The Millionaire's Mistress

ONE

“Cara! I need you to take out the trash!”

The blonde girl sighs, taking the much-overused earphones out of her ears and walking towards the kitchen with heavy footsteps. It’s not a long walk, considering that every room is about an arm’s length away; sometimes, she can hear her mother’s breathing through the thin walls.

 As she turns her face away from the stench of the garbage bag, she can’t help but glance at her mother with a sense of pity. Hilary Winter is a seamstress for the local boutique down the street that underpays her severely, but that is with any job here in Chester Springs. 

Cara walks out of the house, the rusty door creaking loudly as she closes it behind her and makes her way towards the overflowing cans. Just as she dumps the black garbage bag on top of the seemingly never-ending pile, Maria emerges from the house next door, a thin cigarette pinched between her fingers. 

Cara’s eyes light up. 

Maria was someone she looked upto; not only was Maria going to college out of state, she was paying for it herself. Every time Cara sees her she’s sporting a new accessory— last month she was wearing a watch worth more than her mother’s income for the month. She's a testament to dreamers like Cara.

“What’s up?” Maria approaches her, grey smoke flowing out of her plump lips. 

“Same old. How come you’re here? Is your semester over?” Cara tries to hide her fascination with the woman standing in front of her.

“Nah, came over for the weekend, had to give mom some money for this week. The catering has been rough for the last month.” Elise Sanchez, Maria’s mother, was a freelancing caterer, the jobs were uncertain and the pay, mediocre. 

The casual way Maria talks about providing for her family makes Cara both envious and inspired. 

“Wow.” The expression slips from Cara’s lips before she can really process it. “I mean - I mean it’s so great that you are making so much money. I wish I could do that.” There is an undertone of disappointment lacing her words because deep down, she thinks she might have the same destiny as her parents, or Maria’s mom, or everybody else here in Chester Springs.

 Although there’s nothing more she wants than escaping this poverty and the nothingness that comes with it, somewhere she believes her dreams are too far-fetched. 

“Girl, you can.” Maria clicks her fingers so the excess ash at the end of her cigarette falls to the grimy cement. Cara’s ears perk up.

“I can?” She almost sounds like a child being told they can fly.

“Hell yeah, I mean if you’re willing to do that kind of work,” Maria trails off, almost as if she wishes she could take her words back. 

“I will do anything! What is it? Tell me!” Cara reaches out and grabs Maria’s arms in excitement. The thought of making the American dream dances in front of her eyes. 

“Sh! Calm down,” Maria stares her down, seeming to think over her words. “Alright, I’ll tell you but you have to promise me you’re not going to bring this up with your parents or my parents or anybody else,” Suddenly the dreamy atmosphere dissolves into apprehension. Cara nods her head slowly. 

She doesn’t have to tell anybody, she just wants to get out of the four walls that have weighed her down for the entirety of her life. 

“Do you promise? This is not a joke Cara, if you tell anybody, neither of us can make money,” Maria already looks like she regrets bringing it up. “Actually it’s way too risky, never mind, you will find something that works for you, okay? I have to go,”

And with that, Maria pushes her half-smoked cigarette into one of the bins and begins to retract back into her house. 

“Wait! Maria! Please!” Cara rushes after her, her eyes already glassy as she realises that her only shot is being taken away from her. Maria turns around, pinching the bridge of her nose in hesitancy. 

“Look, Cara, I’m sorry for dangling the dream and taking it away like this, but I can’t risk—“

“Maria please,” Is all Cara can say before her eyes start brimming with pathetic tears. She feels so helpless, so devoid of hope, and now, when she thought she could almost have it, she’s not even given a chance. 

In all her eighteen years of existence, she has waited for this moment. The moment where somebody tells her what to do to get out of here. “You don’t understand, school’s over, my mom wants me to start working like her, I can’t live like this please you have to help me out,” She begs in hopes of breaking Maria’s insecurity. 

“Cara…” Maria sighs, rubbing the young girl’s shoulder. She feels for Cara, she really does. She remembers being in the same spot, begging for a way out of this hell, and the day she was given a pass, her life changed forever. Somebody took that risk for her, and now it’s her turn to pay it back.

“Okay. I will help you. Stop crying now, alright?” Maria pats her head comfortingly and Cara looks at her with eyes full of crystal tears and hope. 

“Really?” She sniffles. 

“Cara! How long does it take to take the bloody trash out? All you do is waste time!” Her mother’s yelling interrupts them and Maria gives Cara a sympathetic look. 

“Meet me tomorrow morning before I leave, okay? I’ll tell you what to do.” 

The next morning, Cara can barely wait to get out of her bed, which is unusual because she almost always has the opposite feeling. Last night, she kept tossing and turning with both excitement and a little bit of fear of the unknown. 

She has no idea what allows Maria to live her dreams, but whatever it is, Cara is sure she can and will do it. Not telling her parents what she’ll be doing does make her a little uncomfortable, but she rationalised it enough in her head last night to not worry about it.

 She figured it’s really one parent she has to deal with-- her mother. Her father is gone for half the month anyway, and when he’s here, he’s too worried about making ends meet to talk to his only daughter. 

Ivan Winter is a launderer at the new oil rig, Westwins. When he’s not working at the rig, he does odd jobs for the neighbourhood so he can put a meal in front of his family. 

Of course her mother is drowning in clothes the first thing in the morning. Her pale face has lost all lustre, to the point where the dull khaki she’s working on seems to have more shine. 

When she notices that Cara has woken up, she gives her a smile and wishes her a good morning. Cara’s heart aches. 

“I did leave you the last slice of bread. We need groceries, hopefully the payment comes in today after I drop off this delivery.” She mutters, and as Cara bites into the stale piece of bread, she’s given another reason to change her destiny.