HOW HARD IS IT TO LOVE

THE EXPENSIVE PLATE

Chapter 6:

After Edward left for work, the house became quiet.

Elisa stood in the kitchen, still holding the sides of her new grey dress, her bare feet cold on the tiles. She could still smell his cologne in the air.

Martha came to her and held her shoulders.

"Breathe, my child. He is gone. He will not be back until evening. Come, there is a lot of work."

Elisa nodded quickly. "Yes, ma. I want to work."

"Good," Martha said. "First, you must learn how to clean this big house. Sir likes everything very clean. No dust."

For the next two hours, Martha taught her everything. How to mop the marble floors without leaving water marks. How to dust the glass tables with a soft cloth. How to arrange the cushions on the big white sofas. How to clean the bathrooms.

Elisa learned fast. At the orphanage home, they cleaned with old rags and dirty water. Here, everything was soft and expensive. The mops were new. The soaps smelled like flowers.

"You learn very fast," Martha said, watching her. "You will be fine."

At 10:00 am, the gate bell rang. Martha went to open it. It was a delivery man. He brought a small white box.

Elisa was mopping near the stairs. She stopped and watched.

Martha came back inside smiling. "Your shoes."

Elisa dropped the mop. Her eyes were wide. "My shoes?"

"Yes. Sir ordered two pairs. Come."

Martha opened the box. Inside were two pairs of shoes. One was a simple black flat shoe for house work, soft and light. The other was a small white sneaker with white laces.

Elisa's hands started shaking. She knelt down slowly. No one had ever bought her shoes before in her whole life. At the orphanage, she walked barefoot everywhere. When it was cold, she wrapped her feet with nylon bags.

"Wear it," Martha said softly.

Elisa put her right foot into the black flat shoe. It fit perfectly. Soft and warm. It hugged her foot. She wore the second one and stood up slowly. She had never worn closed shoes before. She walked one step, two steps. She looked down at her feet.

Tears fell from her eyes. "Ma... I have shoes."

Martha's eyes also filled with tears. "Yes, dear. You will never walk barefoot in this house again."

Elisa started crying, holding her dress. "Thank you, ma."

"Don't thank me. Thank Sir. He remembered your size."

Elisa wiped her tears and went back to work wearing her new shoes. She mopped more happily. She could hear her shoes making soft sounds on the marble. Tap. Tap. She liked that sound. It made her feel like a real person.

At noon, Martha said, "Now you will learn the kitchen. You will wash plates. Come."

The kitchen was big and bright. Most plates were white and simple. But on a separate high wooden shelf, there were four plates that were different. They were black with a thin gold line around the edge. They were shiny and heavy.

Martha saw her looking. "Don't touch those," she said quickly. "Those are Sir's special plates. Very expensive. He uses them to eat his dinner. He bought them from Italy. One plate is more than my one month salary. Only I wash them. You wash the other ones."

Elisa nodded, scared. "I will not touch them, ma."

Martha went to the laundry room to bring towels. "I will be back. Start with the white ones."

Elisa stayed in the kitchen wearing her gloves. She washed the white plates carefully, one by one, with soapy water. She was very careful.

When she finished the white plates, the sink was clean.

Then she looked at the shelf with the black plates. They had small food stains. One had been used last night and put back without washing well.

Elisa thought, Martha is old and tired. Her back hurts. I should help her and wash this one plate. Sir will be happy if the kitchen is very clean.

She did not mean to disobey. She wanted to be useful.

She climbed on a small stool and brought down one black plate with the gold line. It was heavy. Heavier than it looked.

She put it in the sink and started washing it gently with the sponge.

Her new shoes were a little slippery on the wet kitchen floor. Her gloves were soapy.

The plate slipped.

Elisa tried to grab it. Her soapy gloves could not hold it.

It fell.

Clang. Crack.

The heavy black plate hit the edge of the sink and broke into three pieces on the tiles. One piece still had the gold line.

The sound was very loud in the quiet kitchen.

Elisa froze. Her heart stopped.

She looked down at the broken pieces. Her hands were shaking hard.

"No... no... no..." she whispered.

She knelt down and picked up the pieces. Her hands shook so much she almost cut herself. She tried to join them together. She couldn't.

Tears started pouring from her eyes.

Martha came back with towels. She saw Elisa on the floor, crying, holding broken black pieces. Her face went pale.

"Elisa! What have you done?"

Elisa cried harder. "Ma... it slipped... I wanted to help... I did not mean..."

Martha dropped the towels and knelt down. "Oh, my child. I told you not to touch these. Oh, God. Sir will be very angry. This plate is very expensive."

"I will tell Sir it was my fault," Elisa cried. "Please don't let him throw me out."

Martha held her. "Stop crying. We will clean it."

But he did notice.

At 6:30 pm, Edward came back from work. He was still in his black suit. He looked tired. He dropped his car keys on the kitchen island.

Martha was cooking. Elisa was standing in a corner, wearing her black shoes, head down, hands behind her back, still shaking.

Edward sat down and loosened his tie. "Martha, I am hungry. Bring my food. Use the black plate."

Elisa's heart jumped to her throat.

Martha's hands froze over the pot. "Sir... sir..."

Edward frowned. He looked up. "What?"

Martha tried to find a soft way to say it. She looked at Elisa, then back at Edward. "Sir... about the plate... we... the plate..."

Edward's face changed. His eyes became cold. "Martha, what are you saying? Talk clearly. I don't like people mumbling in my house."

Martha swallowed. "Sir... one of the black plates broke this afternoon while washing..."

Edward's jaw tightened. "What? Who broke it?"

Martha kept quiet.

Edward stood up. His voice was loud now. "I said who broke my plate?"

Elisa stepped forward, tears running down her face, her new shoes shaking. "Sir... I... I broke it. I am sorry, sir. It slipped from my hand. I did not mean to."

Edward stared at her. Then at the shelf where only three black plates remained.

He laughed, but it was an angry laugh.

"Of course. Of course it is you. I leave this house for a few hours and you break something expensive."

Elisa knelt down quickly, begging. "Sir, please forgive me. I will pay for it. I will work and pay for it."

Edward looked down at her. "Pay for it? With what money?"

Elisa looked up, confused, tears on her lashes. "With my salary, sir. I will work and pay."

Edward's eyes flashed. He cut her off, his voice rising.

"Your salary? Who told you that you have a salary? Did I ever mention I am paying you? When did we discuss money?"

Elisa shook her head, scared. "You did not, sir. But I thought..."

He slammed his hand on the island. Elisa jumped.

"Do you know what taking you in could cost me?" he shouted. His voice filled the whole kitchen. "I put a roof over your head. I clothe you. I give you new dresses. I buy you shoes. I feed you three times a day. You sleep in a room with air conditioner. And you still have the mouth to tell me about salary? You still want me to give you money?"

Elisa was shaking very hard, crying loudly now. "No, sir. I don't want money, sir. I am sorry."

"You see?" Edward shouted, pointing at her. "You see what you do? You make me talk and get pissed a lot. Since you entered this house, I have been shouting every day. I don't shout. I don't talk this much. But you make me lose control."

He pointed at the broken pieces Martha had packed in a small bag.

"Because you broke that plate, you have just increased your stay in this house. You will work and pay for that plate. You will not leave this house until you pay for it. Do you understand me?"

Elisa nodded quickly, wiping her face. "Yes, sir. I understand, sir. I will work. I will pay."

Edward stared at her on her knees, in her new dress, wearing her first shoes, crying.

His anger slowly dropped, but his face stayed hard.

He sat back down, his voice low and tired now. "Get up. Go to your room. I don't want to see your crying face tonight."

Elisa stood up and ran out of the kitchen, her new shoes making soft taps on the marble, her hands covering her mouth.

Martha looked at Edward, shaking her head. "Sir, that plate costs 400 dollars. How will she pay?"

Edward did not look at her. He picked up his phone. "Then she will stay here for a very long time, Martha. A very long time. Bring my food with a white plate."

Upstairs, Elisa sat on the floor beside the bed again, even though he said she could sleep on the bed. She held her new black shoes in her hands, crying quietly, afraid to spoil them.

She had broken something expensive on her first day of work. And now, she could never leave.