Endless Pursuit

Chapter 4

Esther was not deceiving Miranda but herself only. She had been saying she would get a job now for five years, yet did nothing to do so. All she did was wait for Miranda to get her paycheck and make demands on the money while ignoring the fact she was practically paying all the bills, from feeding to electricity bills to her house rent and so many other bills.

The only things Esther did was drink all day and fight with her father, who was jobless as well and who had a gambling addiction.

Her dad was no different, nor was he better. He had never been a responsible father, so Miranda didn't expect much from him. From her childhood days till now, she always knew he was a hopeless father. All he ever did, while her mother worked herself to the bone, was gamble all day with money she was sure he stole. He never worked. He just sat in the parlor all day, drinking and watching TV, smoking, and going out with his friends to gamble.

Miranda hated him. And she hated her mother for marrying him and giving birth to her. Sometimes in the past she had asked her several times why she chose her Dad out of all the men chasing after her. Her mother, Esther, was from a middle-class family. She fell in love with her Dad, fleeing from home since her parents disapproved of her dating an ex-convict, and started to live in the slum with her Dad.

They got married, and Dad had promised her that he would change and become more responsible.

Her gullible mom had believed him. Having cut ties with her family, she dropped out of school and started working to support her home.

She had Esther and worked for many years, yet her Dad could still never get a job. He kept reassuring them that he would get a job and stop wandering around the slum, robbing people, causing trouble, gambling away all our properties, putting them all in debt, smelling of drugs and cocaine, and sweat.

Miranda’s childhood was horrible. She was malnourished all of the time. Sometimes, she wondered why and how she turned out this pretty in the end. Perhaps it was because of her strong genes, as her parents were very comely. She likes to think it was her father's handsomeness her mother fell for rather than his character and virtues.

Miranda also turned out to be responsible and sane, unlike her parents. Maybe because she was sent to live with her mother's sister for some time after the incident happened until she died of tuberculosis, while her children had blamed her for her death, saying her black hair had been a sign of bad luck; they all had blonde hair in their family.

Aunt Marie died immediately after Miranda was done with high school. She still remember how sweet she had been and how she would rest her head on her thighs as she caressed it and spoke sweet words into her ears.

She had died, and Miranda had had to return to her home. Things had not changed. Her mom had stopped working and started a small business, which eventually crashed because of her father's endless borrowing from her. Miranda had to take on a job to support her family.

Because of that, her mother too stopped trying to make money, and the whole family started to depend on her.

She was tired and miserable.

She walked past the train station and remembered the first time she had left the slum. It was when her mother had sent her to go live with her sister. She still remember how dark it was, how her bloody hands had clung to her bag, her heart beating with fear and anticipation, and the dried tears on her cheeks making me feel uncomfortable.

And how her aunt had taken her into her arms that night and said the kindest words.

A tear ran down her face.

“I miss you. I miss you, Aunt Marie,” she muttered, “no day passes without me missing your smile.”

She took a taxi, which took her to her college.

“I hope I can meet up for the first class,” She had said.

“Don’t worry! This car is new! The engine is still very new, and it moves as fast as ever!” the driver reassured her, even though she wasn't talking to him.

Aunt Marie.

She thought about her again as she walked briskly to the lecture hall. She got there on time and sat down with her class mates.

Aunt Marie's family had not even allowed her to attend her funeral. They still had this superstitious belief that she was the precursor of sorrows and grief since she had black hair and since Aunt Marie started getting sick when she arrived at their humble abode.

Miranda didn't blame them, though. Their father, Aunt Marie's husband, used to be the Catholic priest of some weird church until he got tired of being celibate and settled with her aunt.

He still attended the parish, where they were fed strange doctrines and ideologies. She once attended the church, and had been severely uncomfortable there.

Classes for the day were finally over. She could not concentrate that much because her mind was full of the bills she had to pay. The topmost of them was her college fees. The deadline for the payment was very close, and I still hadn’t gathered enough money for it.

This was what she was thinking about when she reached the Café she usually worked at. As soon as she stepped into it, her boss, a short, chubby man in his late fifties and balding red hair, stomped over to her.

“Miranda! You are late!”

“Sorry, boss,” she replied, even though she only had been seven minutes late.

“Eat your sorry! My customers have been waiting for you! They want you specifically to make their drink!

Yet when I look around, there's no sign of you!”

“I was in class, sir. We just finished classes for the day.”

“That’s no business of mine! I employed you here to work for me! I don't care about your lifestyle! Now go into the kitchen and make them some coffee and latte!”

She nodded and went into the kitchen, where she prepared the customer's orders given to her by the waiter.

She delivered the drinks herself because she was also working as a waitress. She had begged the manager to employ her as a barista and a waitress so would be paid a heavier sum. The cunning manager had immediately agreed. After all, that was one person doing the job he would have had to pay two!

He had also remarked that she was beautiful and that it would attract a lot of people to the shop.

And, of course, it did. It attracted several lewd men and perverts who would not spare a chance to flirt with her and even harass her. Every day, she. had to deal with the fear that one of the men would slap her across the buttocks or make some. weird suggestions.

After all, the manager did not care what happened to his staff.

The other customers she had to deal with were the rude and obnoxious ones who thought because they were customers, they were on top of the world.

One even went as far as spilling his hot coffee over her. The manager apologized to the rude customer instead and reprimanded a soaking-wet Miranda that day.

The manager of this café was someone she wished to kill.

The last order she had today was a weird one, though. She was to serve two coffees to our regular customer, a wealthy man she had never served before but heard about, and a business partner he had brought along.

What was funny was that the business partner he brought along with him had requested coffee without sugar.

Why would he want coffee without sugar? Who drank that?

She finished her preparations and left the kitchen to serve the customers. Outside the kitchen, she saw Azalea, her work friend, and other girls hunched in a corner and watching something.

She walked towards them and saw they were watching a customer with awe. She moved closer and saw it was the customer she was to serve. She wondered what was so special about him that got them staring at him.

She walked towards him and soon realized why they were all staring. The new customer was very handsome!

With dark, spiky hair with some falling over his eyes, this man's face looked like the gods themselves sculpted them. He was so devilishly handsome with eyes that seemed they were piercing into her soul when he had looked at her briefly. He wore a grey suit that fit his body perfectly and gave him a very classy look. She knew he was a wealthy person as soon as she him.

She could barely concentrate on her walking as she walked towards them. She avoided looking at him as much as possible when she finally got to their table and bent to place the cups on their table.

Miranda could feel his eyes on her. He was staring at her. She took more time serving them so she could remain longer in their presence and know if this handsome dude was genuinely staring at her or whether she was just imagining it.

She leaned back. He was!

She looked at him from the corner of her eyes and felt he was about to say something when her hand mistakenly knocked on one of the coffee cups, and the coffee spilled over the table, soiling important-looking documents.

The regular customer gasped, and she knew then that she was in big trouble.