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I didn’t, but only because my father probably pawned it off years ago.
“No, but I can use my phone.”
“It’s not the same,amorina. You need to hold the camera in your hands andfeelas you take the photo.” She looks somewhere behind me, as if she’s remembering. “Your grandfather was gifted, just like you. He, too, could see things that no one else did.”
I’ve seen some of my grandfather’s photos, and she’s not wrong. They’re stunning. There’s no way I’ll ever be as good as him, but it’s nice that Nonna thinks I am. I reach into my bag, pulling out my phone so I can show her a picture I took on the way to school when I notice the time.
“Oh no! I’m late. Vinny is going to kill me.”
“You tell that boy to call me if he has a bone to pick. I’ll put him in his place.”
I snort because I know she’s serious. Vinny is one of the most feared men in our neighborhood, and Nonna might be the only person who can put him in place.
Leaning over, I kiss Nonna’s wrinkled cheek. “I love you. I’ll see you on Monday after class.”
“I look forward to it,amorina.”
As much as I wish I could see her over the weekend, I have shifts at Vinny’s salon during the days and then at his Italian restaurant in the evenings. God knows I need the extra cash right now. My father blew his last paycheck, and we have bills that are overdue. Trying not to feel down, I gather my things and leave Nonna’s room. I’m lucky that she’s able to stay in such a nice place. My grandfather left behind a lot of money when he passed and Nonna was smart and invested it. I’m mostly just glad that my father doesn’t have access to it. He’d gamble and drink it all away, and then she’d be out in the streets.
Sometimes I feel guilty because I don’t tell Nonna how bad it is at home. I’m lying to her, even if it’s indirectly. Like, if she knew I needed money, she’d give it to me. But I know my father would get his hands on it and keep on until there was nothing left. So it’s best that I say nothing. Besides, I’ve survived this long. I can survive a few months longer. Because as soon as I can, I’m going to move out of his house and never look back.
Outside, I shiver as I wait for the bus. I should have brought a jacket, but I’m trying to enjoy the last bit of warmth before fall moves into Brooklyn, which will happen soon since it’s mid-October. I might regret this decision when I leave Vinny’s shop, since it will be after dark. I just hope I don’t cross paths with my father. He’ll be in a mood since it’s his payday and he won’t have a check to spend. Even though it’s not my fault, he’ll find some way to blame me. If he's feeling foul, he might even take his fists to me. I rub my arm. It healed months ago, but sometimes it still aches, like now when the weather is about to change.
I’m frowning as I step into Vinny’s salon. The bell above the door dings, and Gia, my other tormenter, sneers when she sees me, which is really just icing on the cake at this point. I know Gia because she went to the same high school that I attend, though she graduated two years ago. I hoped and prayed that once she graduated, I wouldn’t have to see her again. She told everyone she was going to Europe to model. Guessing that was a lie since she’s at the salon almost as much as me.
I have to bite back a groan when she taps her long, red acrylic nails on the glass countertop. She was supposed to be off today. What in the heck is she doing here?
“You’re late.”
Jesus. Can’t I catch a break?
I glance at the clock on the red wall behind her. “I’m ten minutes early.”
She hums. “Definitely late. I’ll make sure Vinny knows, too.”
Vinny is her uncle, so it’s not like he’s going to take my side. Okay, that’s not fair. Hemight, but I won’t hold my breath. Any time Gia gripes, he does whatever it takes to get her to shut up, which is usually giving her what she wants. I’m sure if I made a big enough stink, he’d take my side, but it’s just not worth it. Unlike Gia, I have actual problems.
“Some of the stations need to be swept, and the laundry is behind.”
And why is that, I wonder? Could it be that she has been talking instead of doingherjob? As the receptionist, she’s also supposed to keep the laundry going while my tasks include sweeping and washing client’s hair in the back room far, far away from her.
“I’ll get right on that.”
“The bathrooms need to be cleaned, too.”
My jaw aches from gritting my teeth. “Okay.”
That’s not technically my job, either, but I know better than to argue. Gia smirks at me as I pass, and I’m careful not to step too close to her. She’s tripped me or ‘accidentally’ bumped into me before, and I wouldn’t put it past her today.
In the employee break room, I put my bag in my locker and grab my apron before closing the metal door and locking it. The vibe back here differs from the client’s area. There’s a counter with peeling brown plastic with a coffeepot and microwave. More often than not, the microwave is dirty with food splattered on the inside. A table with four plastic chairs sits in the middle of the room on beige tiles that are cracked and long overdue to be replaced. Those chairs have seen better days and there’s no way I’d sit on one because there’s a good chance it might break.
The long wall has green lockers that look similar to the ones at my school. When I first started, I didn’t lock my locker and learned the hard way that there was a reason everyone else did. Losing the fifty bucks in my bag was a blow for so many reasons. It made me not trust my coworkers, which really sucked since I like most of them. The real kicker is that I can’t even say Gia is the one who took the money because there are a few people in the salon who are just as sketchy as her.
Tying my black apron over my clothes, I make my way to the utility closet to get the cleaning supplies. I loathe cleaning bathrooms, so I might as well get that over with now. I make sure the men’s bathroom is empty before entering. The men’s is usually the worse, with lots of pee splatters on the floor and wall behind the toilet. Thankfully, it’s not too bad. God knows I’ve seen worse. I shudder as I remember. There are just some things that can’t be unseen.
The women’s bathroom takes a bit longer to clean, but only because Vinny likes to provide feminine products for anyone who needs them. The same goes for the unisex bathroom. I finally finish restocking everything and go back to the utility closet to get my broom and dustpan.
The salon has thirty stations, a smoke lounge, and two private rooms that are used for waxing customers. Each space has either red or black walls with black tiled floors. Most of the employees will clean their own stations, but a few of them like for me to do it because they think it makes them look more important. Thankfully, all I have to do is sweep up any hair on the ground. Sometimes a stylist will ask me to take dirty instruments and sanitize them, which I don’t mind doing.
