SkyGirl5
Cadet
Chapter 2
Once inside the bathroom, Michael intended on putting Grace up on the counter so he would have better access to clean her scrapes. Looking around the small space, though, he found no such thing. Apparently, bathrooms of the fancy variety had free standing sinks with no counter space. Instead of having drawers beneath the nonexistent counter, a narrow chest presumably held towels, toilet paper and other such items off to the left of the sink. This item, however, was far from stable enough to support Grace’s weight, so Michael instructed his daughter to sit on the toilet (seat down).
Upon opening up the top drawer of the narrow chest, he found the first aid kit Sydney had directed him to. He washed out Grace’s cuts before applying some antiseptic to them; he did not even wish to comprehend what vile germs lived on the sidewalks of New York, where she had unfortunately received her scrapes. “That pinches Daddy,” Grace whined.
“Sorry honey; it’ll feel better in a minute,” he told her. Then, after placing a Band-Aid on each injured area, he cleaned up the bathroom quickly, returning it to the pristine state it had been in when they entered it. Once this was done, he picked up his bag and Grace’s backpack and led the way out of the bathroom to the hall, where Sydney was pacing around her foyer. She stopped when she saw them though, and gave them both a curious look.
“Thank you very much Miss Bristow,” Michael said politely, taking Grace’s hand in his. “We’ll be going now.”
“Oh no wait!” she said as she practically lunged in front of their walking path. Michael looked slightly taken aback and he snaked a protecting arm around his daughter. “No, no I mean I feel so bad still for scaring you half to death….please, please stay for dinner it’s the least I can do!”
“What are ya having?!” Grace asked, sounding rather interested.
“Grace!” Michael said warningly. Then he looked up to Sydney who was smiling softly as his little girl. “That won’t be necessary at all, Miss Bristow.”
“Please, I insist. I mean, if you need to get home to your wife I understand, but-”
“We don’t have anybody to go home to!” Grace cut her off. Then, she looked up at her father and tugged on his hand. “Please Daddy?! Come on I don’t wanna eat soup again!”
Slightly embarrassed, Michael knelt down on the floor beside his daughter as a pink color filled his cheeks. “Grace, we don’t need to intrude on this nice lady’s dinner. Come on let’s go.”
“But she invited us!” Grace exclaimed. “Please Daddy!” Michael gave her a stern look, but she merely protruded her bottom lip and made a pouting face at him, one she knew he could hardly resist. Grumbling inwardly, Michael glanced up to Sydney and saw that she was wearing a similar pleading expression. Realizing he was fighting a losing battle, he very begrudgingly agreed to stay.
“Wonderful! I’ll go make sure there are three settings at the table,” Sydney beamed as she quickly walked back through her house. Grace was just about to scamper after her but Michael caught her by her arms and held her firmly so he could convey his warning.
“Grace I want you to be on your absolute best behavior, alright? Elbows off the table, say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and don’t ask any rude questions,” he listed his daughters most common offenses. “And when we leave we’ll be having a discussion about the polite ways to turn down someone’s invitation.”
“Why would you do that?!” she asked in confusion. Michael shook his head and told her they would talk about it later before walking back through Sydney’s very elegant home.
“This is like a museum!” Grace said in a hushed voice as she examined all the fancy vases used for decoration and paintings adorning the walls. Michael nodded in agreement; it was the most decadent home he had been in. Then again, he had not been in many dwellings that were even half as fancy as Sydney’s.
Michael and Grace found Sydney in the kitchen along with a Hispanic woman wearing a grey maid’s outfit. The fact that Sydney employed help did not surprise Michael in the least since the car that nearly hit them was obviously part of a private limousine service. Standing there in her kitchen with granite floors and countertops, he wondered what profession allowed her to live so well. Surely it was not any job he had access to.
“Please sit,” Sydney said, gesturing towards the table. Grace rushed over, shed her backpack and plopped herself down in one of the high back wooden chairs sitting around the large oval table. Michael took a slightly more demure approach, walking very casually and sitting down carefully, pulling his napkin into his lap as he did so.
“So, Grace, what grade are you in?” Sydney smiled at the little girl who was examining all the sparkling silverware surrounding the china plate in front of her.
“First,” Grace said happily. “My teacher’s name is Ms. Henry, but I don’t like her.”
“Why not?” Sydney asked with a slight laugh.
Grace scrunched up her nose. “’cause she’s old and she smells like old people.”
“Grace!” Michael said sharply.
“Well she does,” Grace said with a shrug as Sydney stifled a laugh.
Their conversation was briefly interrupted by the woman working in Sydney’s house, who she identified as Consuela, began carrying heaping bowls filled with mashed potatoes, chicken and carrots over to the table. Grace was practically salivating as her father gave her spoonfuls of each of the food items. She dug in immediately, proclaiming how wonderful everything was.
“Slow down,” Michael cautioned her quietly.
Upon hearing Michael speak, Sydney glanced over to see Grace shoveling food in her mouth as though she had never eaten before. This concerned her slightly, but she could not stay anything about it considering she had just met the couple beside her in a most unfortunate way. “So Grace, do you like first grade better than kindergarten so far?” she asked, deciding on a lighter form of conversation
“I guess so,” Grace said after swallowing a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “It’s harder…but okay I guess.”
“Good,” Sydney smiled softly at her. Then, she turned to Michael, “so what is it that you do?”
“Oh nothing,” Michael said quickly. “I mean, I have a job, I’ve had a few different jobs, but nothing important and probably not as interesting as what you do,” he said, purposely changing the subject away from himself.
“You mean running my father’s empire? Not summuch,” Sydney laughed softly.
“Empire?” Grace repeated. “Is he a king?”
Sydney smiled at her. “No, I meant that figuratively. He just owns a lot of the buildings downtown.”
Michael smiled inwardly, realizing the exact reason for her wealthy status. Once he saw that Grace was mostly finished with her meal, he encouraged their great escape from Sydney’s home. He had hardly touched the minimal amount of food on his plate mostly due to the fact that he was too preoccupied with making sure that Grace did not make Sydney regret her very generous invitation into her home. “C’mon Grace,” Michael said subtly, “We need to get going.”
“Do we hafta?” Grace pouted.
“Yes we hafta,” he said, mocking her tone. Then he turned to Sydney and thanked her once more. “This really was too much, but thank you anyway.”
“Oh, no, please it was the least I can do,” she said, waving her hand casually. Then, she walked the two of them to the door to say goodbye once more. She wanted to do more for them instead of sending them back out into the dark, but she sensed Michael’s extreme hesitation regarding anything she did or offered them. Keeping this in mind, all she offered them as they left was a smile.
“Thanks!” Grace called back to her as she descended the front stairs of Sydney’s house. Sydney smiled and waved back to her. Instead of going inside, she hovered in the doorway, watching them until they disappeared. As she was waiting there, she heard Grace ask, “Where are we sleeping tonight Daddy?”
“I don’t know yet honey,” Michael responded. Finding this a very peculiar statement, Sydney’s brow wrinkled as she shut the door slowly. Standing there in her foyer, she could not help but wonder the real truth behind the man and girl she had just shared her dinner with. The sad part was, she would probably never find out.
Once inside the bathroom, Michael intended on putting Grace up on the counter so he would have better access to clean her scrapes. Looking around the small space, though, he found no such thing. Apparently, bathrooms of the fancy variety had free standing sinks with no counter space. Instead of having drawers beneath the nonexistent counter, a narrow chest presumably held towels, toilet paper and other such items off to the left of the sink. This item, however, was far from stable enough to support Grace’s weight, so Michael instructed his daughter to sit on the toilet (seat down).
Upon opening up the top drawer of the narrow chest, he found the first aid kit Sydney had directed him to. He washed out Grace’s cuts before applying some antiseptic to them; he did not even wish to comprehend what vile germs lived on the sidewalks of New York, where she had unfortunately received her scrapes. “That pinches Daddy,” Grace whined.
“Sorry honey; it’ll feel better in a minute,” he told her. Then, after placing a Band-Aid on each injured area, he cleaned up the bathroom quickly, returning it to the pristine state it had been in when they entered it. Once this was done, he picked up his bag and Grace’s backpack and led the way out of the bathroom to the hall, where Sydney was pacing around her foyer. She stopped when she saw them though, and gave them both a curious look.
“Thank you very much Miss Bristow,” Michael said politely, taking Grace’s hand in his. “We’ll be going now.”
“Oh no wait!” she said as she practically lunged in front of their walking path. Michael looked slightly taken aback and he snaked a protecting arm around his daughter. “No, no I mean I feel so bad still for scaring you half to death….please, please stay for dinner it’s the least I can do!”
“What are ya having?!” Grace asked, sounding rather interested.
“Grace!” Michael said warningly. Then he looked up to Sydney who was smiling softly as his little girl. “That won’t be necessary at all, Miss Bristow.”
“Please, I insist. I mean, if you need to get home to your wife I understand, but-”
“We don’t have anybody to go home to!” Grace cut her off. Then, she looked up at her father and tugged on his hand. “Please Daddy?! Come on I don’t wanna eat soup again!”
Slightly embarrassed, Michael knelt down on the floor beside his daughter as a pink color filled his cheeks. “Grace, we don’t need to intrude on this nice lady’s dinner. Come on let’s go.”
“But she invited us!” Grace exclaimed. “Please Daddy!” Michael gave her a stern look, but she merely protruded her bottom lip and made a pouting face at him, one she knew he could hardly resist. Grumbling inwardly, Michael glanced up to Sydney and saw that she was wearing a similar pleading expression. Realizing he was fighting a losing battle, he very begrudgingly agreed to stay.
“Wonderful! I’ll go make sure there are three settings at the table,” Sydney beamed as she quickly walked back through her house. Grace was just about to scamper after her but Michael caught her by her arms and held her firmly so he could convey his warning.
“Grace I want you to be on your absolute best behavior, alright? Elbows off the table, say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and don’t ask any rude questions,” he listed his daughters most common offenses. “And when we leave we’ll be having a discussion about the polite ways to turn down someone’s invitation.”
“Why would you do that?!” she asked in confusion. Michael shook his head and told her they would talk about it later before walking back through Sydney’s very elegant home.
“This is like a museum!” Grace said in a hushed voice as she examined all the fancy vases used for decoration and paintings adorning the walls. Michael nodded in agreement; it was the most decadent home he had been in. Then again, he had not been in many dwellings that were even half as fancy as Sydney’s.
Michael and Grace found Sydney in the kitchen along with a Hispanic woman wearing a grey maid’s outfit. The fact that Sydney employed help did not surprise Michael in the least since the car that nearly hit them was obviously part of a private limousine service. Standing there in her kitchen with granite floors and countertops, he wondered what profession allowed her to live so well. Surely it was not any job he had access to.
“Please sit,” Sydney said, gesturing towards the table. Grace rushed over, shed her backpack and plopped herself down in one of the high back wooden chairs sitting around the large oval table. Michael took a slightly more demure approach, walking very casually and sitting down carefully, pulling his napkin into his lap as he did so.
“So, Grace, what grade are you in?” Sydney smiled at the little girl who was examining all the sparkling silverware surrounding the china plate in front of her.
“First,” Grace said happily. “My teacher’s name is Ms. Henry, but I don’t like her.”
“Why not?” Sydney asked with a slight laugh.
Grace scrunched up her nose. “’cause she’s old and she smells like old people.”
“Grace!” Michael said sharply.
“Well she does,” Grace said with a shrug as Sydney stifled a laugh.
Their conversation was briefly interrupted by the woman working in Sydney’s house, who she identified as Consuela, began carrying heaping bowls filled with mashed potatoes, chicken and carrots over to the table. Grace was practically salivating as her father gave her spoonfuls of each of the food items. She dug in immediately, proclaiming how wonderful everything was.
“Slow down,” Michael cautioned her quietly.
Upon hearing Michael speak, Sydney glanced over to see Grace shoveling food in her mouth as though she had never eaten before. This concerned her slightly, but she could not stay anything about it considering she had just met the couple beside her in a most unfortunate way. “So Grace, do you like first grade better than kindergarten so far?” she asked, deciding on a lighter form of conversation
“I guess so,” Grace said after swallowing a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “It’s harder…but okay I guess.”
“Good,” Sydney smiled softly at her. Then, she turned to Michael, “so what is it that you do?”
“Oh nothing,” Michael said quickly. “I mean, I have a job, I’ve had a few different jobs, but nothing important and probably not as interesting as what you do,” he said, purposely changing the subject away from himself.
“You mean running my father’s empire? Not summuch,” Sydney laughed softly.
“Empire?” Grace repeated. “Is he a king?”
Sydney smiled at her. “No, I meant that figuratively. He just owns a lot of the buildings downtown.”
Michael smiled inwardly, realizing the exact reason for her wealthy status. Once he saw that Grace was mostly finished with her meal, he encouraged their great escape from Sydney’s home. He had hardly touched the minimal amount of food on his plate mostly due to the fact that he was too preoccupied with making sure that Grace did not make Sydney regret her very generous invitation into her home. “C’mon Grace,” Michael said subtly, “We need to get going.”
“Do we hafta?” Grace pouted.
“Yes we hafta,” he said, mocking her tone. Then he turned to Sydney and thanked her once more. “This really was too much, but thank you anyway.”
“Oh, no, please it was the least I can do,” she said, waving her hand casually. Then, she walked the two of them to the door to say goodbye once more. She wanted to do more for them instead of sending them back out into the dark, but she sensed Michael’s extreme hesitation regarding anything she did or offered them. Keeping this in mind, all she offered them as they left was a smile.
“Thanks!” Grace called back to her as she descended the front stairs of Sydney’s house. Sydney smiled and waved back to her. Instead of going inside, she hovered in the doorway, watching them until they disappeared. As she was waiting there, she heard Grace ask, “Where are we sleeping tonight Daddy?”
“I don’t know yet honey,” Michael responded. Finding this a very peculiar statement, Sydney’s brow wrinkled as she shut the door slowly. Standing there in her foyer, she could not help but wonder the real truth behind the man and girl she had just shared her dinner with. The sad part was, she would probably never find out.