Amore In The Shadows

Chapter One: Shadows of the Past, Echoes of Today

10 years ago....

Bright car lights shine into my eyes, music swells in my ears, and the smell of beer invades my nose. The car comes to a stop beside me.

"Come on, sweetie, let's get you home," that familiar voice says. The coolness of the AC sobers me up, enough to know my surroundings.

"How was my baby's first party?" she says as the night's events play in my head. How many people there were, playing beer pong in the kitchen or the lounge where people were playing spin the bottle.

"It was good, Mum," I say quietly, as all I can think about is telling my younger sister everything and how comfy my bed sounds right about now.

My eyes drift closed ever so slightly, the swaying of the car stopping me from falling completely adrift. After some time, I give up and decide to wait until I'm in my own bed to sleep.

"Mum, can I ask you something?" Curiosity gets the best of me once again, as it so often does.

"What was Dad like?" Her smile drops, and her demeanor changes. Her body becomes rigid, and the grip on the steering wheel tightens.

"I'm not discussing this. All you need to know is your father is a bad man," her tone completely changing, dark and cold, completely unlike her.

"But Mum...." Before I finish my sentence, two bright headlights shine into the front of the car, right at us. A scream rips through the air. It came from me. The last thing I heard was the crunching of metal and my mum telling me it will all be ok.

Present day....

I wake up to the smell of baked cookies. I wander down to the kitchen of our small house to find my sister pacing back and forth.

"What's wrong now, little sis?" I giggle as I see her failed attempt at cookies. She glares at me as she explains how she needs to make cookies for next week's bake sale for her school. I tell her I'll make some when I have time, then head back upstairs to get ready for yet another busy day. My days consist of taking my sister to school and working two jobs to pay the bills and for the massive debt my mother left me before her passing.

I quickly shower, then throw my hair into a loose knot on my head. I put on some mascara and lip gloss to show some effort and to look even the tiniest bit decent for work. When I look half-decent, I make my way downstairs and make sure my sister has everything she needs for her day.

"Ready to leave, Isabella?" I yell up to her. A groan coming from her room makes me smile to myself, seeing what a wonderful young woman I've raised alone.

Once we get closer to her school, we say our goodbyes and part ways. I rush down the busy street filled with coffee shops and restaurants until I come to a tiny warehouse at the end of the street.

"Good morning, Darel," I yell into the back break room in the far corner. I look towards the clock, 9 o'clock, just got here on time. I look at the list to do today, and three shipments are due in by lorries. Before my shift starts, I quickly eat a banana, as I forgot to eat breakfast, then head to the packing room. By 12 o'clock, the first lorry arrives, and my hands are sore from lifting several heavy boxes. My job is just packaging the boxes and making sure nothing breaks during travel; however, the past few years, I've also been the one to load them onto the lorries because Darel is never around to help. 5 o'clock comes around, and I've loaded and sent off three lorries with over 50 boxes packed inside. My hands are sore and blistering, and my back is in agony. The pay might not be the best, but it's all I could find in the short amount of time.

By the time I get home, Isabella is already sitting at the counter with a cookbook in her hand.

"Where did you get that from?" I ask, startling her. She throws the book down in a huff.

"The teacher. I got the dates wrong, and the baking needs to be handed in tomorrow. Everyone is baking, and I know we don't have the money to keep messing up on it, so I want to make it perfect," she says all in one breath.

She's stressed. I can see that evidently on her face. Since my mother's passing and the debt she left me, we have been struggling with money. I work two jobs to keep us barely afloat. Isabella has offered to get a job multiple times, but I keep refusing and telling her she needs to focus on her schoolwork. I always tell her I have it handled, but she always looks at me with a worried expression when she thinks I'm not looking.

"Come on, let's get these done for you, okay? And don't worry about messing up. It's how we learn to be the best," I beam at her, trying to lighten the mood.

Four burned batches of cookies and a kitchen covered in flour later, we are finally done and have a batch of perfectly smelling chocolate chip cookies sitting on the counter cooling down. While Isabella is in the shower, I clear up the atrocity in our kitchen, then I go up and shower myself before my second job.

A very long walk later, I arrive at the first house that I'm going to clean. Yep, I'm a cleaner, and a pretty good one. We get a lot of regular customers, and this one is my favorite to clean: a small cottage wrapped in vines and ivy, with a small cobble walkway leading up to it, and inside, a modern living style. Something I would consider perfect for us, and maybe one day I can live that dream. As I come to the door, I'm greeted by Bertie, a small old man with the kindest heart.

"Hello, dear. I've been waiting for this all week. I even baked cakes if you would love some tea and cake." I smile a genuine smile, one that only comes out with him. He lives here alone, as his kids are all off living their separate lives. He's lonely and just wants company, which is why I stay longer when I'm cleaning his cottage.

Once I've had tea and cake and everything is as clean as it can be for an old house, I part ways with him and tell him I'll be back next week. I walk away feeling lighter and happier than I did before. It's like he has this power to drain away negative emotions and feelings. Five clean houses later, I'm walking home in the dark with my thoughts. Ten minutes later, I'm at my front door, staring into the window, watching Isabella playing her games. She's laughing an airy laugh and pouting when she loses. I chuckle to myself and turn the key to unlock the door. I yell to her that I'm home and make my way up the stairs to bed. My head hits the pillow, and it's lights out for me.