Cinderella is a Fraud

Chapter 2: Denny's is hiring

Her fist slammed into his jaw with a sickening crunch. He flew into the table behind him, the poor rickety thing collapsing into pieces under his drunken weight.

The satisfying sounds were like music to her sore eardrums. The adrenaline pumped in her ears, drowning out the sound of the song that had been repeatedly playing on the overhead radio for the last thirty minutes.

The man groaned in pain, limbs splattered across the floor, tables and chairs spilled over.

She rubbed her raw wrists, throbbing from the full-force punch.

“You…bitch..." The drunken man slurred, groaning on the floor beneath her. A one-woman army, she stood tall and proud over him, not an ounce of pity towards his clambering form.

“Say that to my face, you son of a-" She lurched towards the fallen man, fists raised once more but a hand on her wrist stopped her in her tracks.

“Fable," The girl behind her, with long brown hair pulled into a ponytail, and teary-eyed green eyes behind black-rimmed glasses looked no worse for wear, thankfully, “Don't. You'll get in trouble again."

“It's fine, Violet," The girl named Fable cleaned her hands with her apron wrapped around her waist and smiled kindly at the girl, “People like that have it coming."

“You…" a hand weakly gripped onto her heeled boot, the man on the ground sneering. One of his teeth was alarmingly missing.

Without missing a beat, Fable shook him off and ruthlessly stepped on the man's hand with her boot. The man howled in pain, grasping at her boot as if to pull her away.

“MALLORY!"

Violet flinched at the booming voice echoing in the bar. Fable did not.

“Mr. Eades," She acknowledged the approaching man with a nod.

Mr. Eades was a man in his fifties with graying hair, a scowling, and a horrid limp on his left leg. "You," Mr. Eades pointed at a passing worker and then at the fallen man groaning in pain, “Get this filth out of here. Mallory, Taylor, with me."

And the boss walked back to his open office, not waiting for the two to follow.

“You did it this time, Fable," Violet whispered as she and Fable followed their boss into the office.

Once inside, Mr. Eades slammed the door shut behind him, and wobbled behind his desk, almost collapsing into his creaking chair.

“Taylor," Mr. Eades barked at Violet, “What happened?"

Violet jumped, her apron grasped tightly in her clothes as she started, stammering out, “I was doing my rounds like normal and that man, he'd been bothering me all night. He wanted me to get him another drink but I told him he'd already had 12 and you said to cut them off after twelve so I told him but he just wouldn't take no for an answer. And then he started saying all this stuff."

“What kind of stuff?" Mr. Eades asked, voice softening at her distressed look.

“That I should come back to his place with him. How pretty I'd look in his bed." Violet looked sick as said it. “But I said no. I told him to leave me alone but then he…"

She choked on a sob, bravely holding back her tears.

“And then?" Mr. Eades prompted, gently.

Violet looked up, eyes brimming with tears as she whispered, like telling a terrible secret, “He grabbed my butt."

And then she burst into sobs.

Fable snorted, then faked turning it into a cough as Mr. Eades sent her a venomous look.

“You're free to go, Taylor," Mr. Eades said, holding out a tissue box to her. Violet took the whole box, sniffling pitifully like an abandoned puppy as she nodded. “Take the rest of the night off."

“Thank you, sir," and then she was gone, leaving only the two of them.

Mr. Eades sighed, leaning back into his seat as he rubbed his forehead in frustration.

“Mallory?"

“I warned him. twice." Fable said firmly, “He refused."

Mr. Eades groaned in response, leaning back into his chair. It squealed, worn wheels rubbing across the tiled floors.

“This is the third time this week," Mr. Eades sighed, “You've knocked ten guys out in the past month. I've warned you over and over, you can't keep punching paying customers."

“He wasn't a paying customer any more, he got cut off," Fable pointed out.

“Fable."

Fable straightened in her seat, any humor fading from her pale face at his stern voice. Mr. Eades looked exhausted as he stared at her, worn down.

“Yeah," Fable nodded, numbly.

“We're a small business, Fable. I can't keep losing customers because of this. I'm sorry," Mr. Eades truly looked regretful as he folded his fingers across his desk.

“I know."

She did.

“I'll put in a good word with my cousin. He's hiring over the summer for some labor forces," Mr. Eades said gravely, “It's not much but it's something."

“Don't worry about it," Fable only smiled, a practiced plastic thing, emptiness settling where her heart was supposed to be.

“I hear Denny's is hiring."

Fable walked home, the backstreets she called home bursting with life. People sitting out on the sidewalks, doing who knows what. She crossed the street lined with various flashy businesses, neon signs brightly shining in the dark.

The apartment building, she entered was dirty, crumbling in places, and lacking any air-conditioning.

But it was home.

She twisted her key in the lock and entered, flicking their dirty mat back down which used to say 'Home Sweet Home' but time had worn it down to 'He weet me.'

“I'm home!"

Fable called out her nightly ritual like always, placing her jingling keys on the dish next to the door. As the door fell shut, the sound of pattering feet on the floor caught her attention.

Ready as always, just an eight-year-old girl swung around the corner and launched herself into her arms. Fable caught her with a laugh.

“Fable!" The girl looked up at her with her wide, brown eyes, so trusting. “Welcome home!"

“Thank you, Isla," Fable kissed her on the head. “How were you today, little bug?"

“I had an appointment today! They put this weird thing in my chest and it went beep beep beep. Mama said I did really good and they gave me a lollipop. It turned my tongue blue. See!"

Isla opened her mouth up wide, going “Ahh" as she allowed Fable to peer at her tongue, which indeed was a blue color.

“I see. Did you bring me one home, too?" Fable chuckled, trudging into the kitchen as Isla followed her like a duckling to her mother.

“Of course! I got one for Mama and Elodie, too but Mama's made her sick."

As the two entered the kitchen, a woman with a colorful bandana wrapped around her head sat at the table with a girl in a wheelchair. Between them was a pile of playing cards and colorful chocolate candies, arranged very neatly.

“Poker, again?" Fable asked as she entered the small kitchen.

“And she's kicking my ass," The woman grunted, gesturing to her handful of candies.

“Language," Fable scolded without any heart.

“You just need to get good," The girl in the wheelchair grinned, a massive pile of candies in front of her.

“Elodie and Mama have been at it all day," Isla pouted, taking a seat on her sister's wheelchair arm.

“But she's about to be beaten," the eleven-year-old Elodie said, pushing all of her candies into the middle of the table, “All-in."

“Oh, you are so on," The woman mirrored her daughter's actions and without looking away from her daughter's challenge, said, “There's meatloaf in the fridge, Fable."

“Thanks, Charlotte," Fable said, maneuvering around the table to microwave the plate of soggy meatloaf. “I got it."

“Full house!" Charlotte grinned, revealing her hand of five cards, “Beat that."

“Wow, that's good," Elodie looked surprised at the woman's cards but then sent her a sly grin, “But not good enough."

She flipped over her hands, revealing four 4's and a 9. “Four of a Kind."

“You cheater!"

'I'm just too good for you."

“You're both weird," said Isla with a pout, “I don't like this game."

The microwave beeped just in time and as Fable grabbed the hot plate from the electronics, Charlotte looked at Elodie meaningfully, “I think it's time for bed, don't you girls?"

“What?" Isla gasped, “Fable just got home. She's got to read me my story!"

Elodie, however, only smiled at her little sister, “I'll help you with your bath tonight and then Fable can read later. I'll even use the bubble bath."

“Bubble bath?" Isla's eyes lit up. “Really?"

As Elodie nodded, Isla hummed, thinking about it, and then turned to Fable, “But you still have to read me my story, okay?"

“Of course, little bug," Fable smiled, “Once you're all squeaky clean."

Elodie pushed her wheelchair out of the kitchen, and Fable mouthed a 'Thank you to her. Elodie only nodded, eyes anxious as she wheeled around the corner.

Fable sighed, grabbing a chair and seating at the table. She picked at her meatloaf with a fork.

“I need to talk to you about something," Charlotte said, carefully. “Elodie stayed home from school this morning. Well, she answered a call for you from your teacher, Miss Forsythe."

Fable stiffened.

“Honey," Charlotte leaned over to grab her hand.

“Why didn't you tell me you might lose your scholarship?"