The Blue Dress Sisters

CHAPTER 24: BLOOD RELATIVES

Delilah served soup to her grandparents and cousins, one by one, while Maria and Gertrudis helped with the bread and lasagna.

When Alda saw the girl wearing that simple dress—her mother's favorite—she felt as if she were looking at a ghost. Delilah looked so much like Scarlatta that it sickened her, as if she might repeat all of Scarlatta's mistakes. Yet, she'd inherited just enough from her father to make Alda despise her even more.

After Delilah finished serving everyone, she moved to sit at the table, but her grandmother stopped her.

"Oh, no," she said sharply. "What makes you think you can sit with us? Your work isn't finished. You'll wait until we're done eating, clean everything, collect the dishes, and then you may eat in the kitchen with the maids."

Delilah straightened up, nodding slightly, pretending she had no desire to sit at the table. She heard Gertrudis snicker in triumph behind her.

She didn't know why, but everyone in that mansion seemed to hate her—everyone but Maria.

As her family began eating, the silence was broken by the dry coughing of her cousin Giacomo. His eyes were red as he desperately reached for his wine.

"This burns like the devil himself!" he complained as he placed a hand on his throat, which felt on fire.

Maria shot Delilah a horrified look.

"Did you make the sauce with the tomatoes I sliced?"

Delilah nodded quickly.

"Yes, the ones by the fireplace!"

The two maids clutched their heads in dismay.

"I said by the teapot! Those were hot peppers, not tomatoes!"

Her grandparents and her cousin Caterina were now coughing, gagging from the taste.

The issue wasn't just the peppers but the large amount that had gone into the minestrone soup.

Delilah sighed, resigned to the punishment that was sure to come.

"How could you serve us this?" shrieked Caterina, pointing to her grandfather, who was in the middle of a coughing fit. "You could have killed Grandpa!"

"I'm so sorry," Delilah began quickly clearing the minestrone bowls. "Sorry, I didn't mean to. I was wondering why the tomato was so dry when I made the sauce, but I thought..."

When she tried to take Giacomo's plate, he wouldn't let her. He dragged it slowly to the edge of the table and let it fall over the side. On purpose.

"This is disgusting," he said as the plate crashed to the floor.

Delilah looked to the others, horrified, hoping they would say something to her rude cousin for breaking the plate and throwing the food around, making a mess.

"Clean it up, Delilah," was all her grandmother said, stoic.

She stood frozen for a moment, mouth agape in disbelief, before replying,

"But he did it!"

"Clean it up, Delilah!" Alda's shout made her flinch and jump.

She slowly crouched down to pick up the sharp, jagged pieces the plate had shattered into.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. She had made a mistake by breaking the precious dishware and was being punished with a lifetime of domestic work. But her hateful cousin had broken a plate and thrown the soup on purpose, and no one had even scolded him.

Instead, it was her job to clean up everything.

As her eyes struggled to hold back the tears of anger and helplessness, she wondered: