1. Anise, Like The Seed

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Anise

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Anise

I scrub the saucepan that had caramel that had burned in the pan. "Fuck my life," I mutter to myself.

"Can Ralph teach the new kid not to burn fucking caramel it's the fourth time this week?" I scrub harshly with the sponge.

I turn around to get some more soap when I see a tall man. His hair slicked perfectly and parted. A small mustache and a fresh blue suit. I shout and jump back. I recognized him from the paper. "Oh, I'm sorry sir. I didn't know you were there."

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. The embarrassment I felt was to the point where if I could jump off of a cliff I would. Honestly, I wouldn't mind it.

"No worries my dear everyone gets frightened. My name is James March. Yours?" He grabs my hand. I pull back and wipe my hand on my apron to make it less wet.

"Anise Harding." I shake his hand. There was a shocked look on his face. Was he expecting to kiss my hand? Probably not but for whatever.

"Anise, Like the seed. I always liked Anise squares when I was a kid." Mr.March laughs.

"I was a Necco Wafer gal." I stood there nervous. I smile.

"Ah yes. Could I bring you to a diner?" Mr.Marchs face gets a little flush.

My mouth dropped to the floor a little bit. "Uhm... I have a shift right now. Maybe sometime else." I look back at the caramel pot.

"Your boss said he is going to put the new kid on it. Maybe he needs to know how it feels to wash his caramel off of the saucepan." I bit my lip and think. Do it fuck it you have 50 bucks saved.

"How about after my shift?" I ask.

"I'll be waiting." He walks out of the back of the restaurant.

I continue washing the stupid pan. Making the occasional fuck mutter. I washed plates and pans. I look at the clock at 2:37. I was off my shift. I hang up my apron and clock out. I find my navy blue jack and button it.

I go outside into an Alley to find Mr.March, smoking a cigarette. "How long have you been here?"  Mr.March was new money and surely wouldn't be accepted into an old-money society. I would be considered new money once I get my inheritance back. Maybe he was my ticket out of the slums.

"Only for an hour." He was handsome and from what I could tell from the little conversation he was sweet.

"Hmph. So where are you gonna take me?" He puts out his cigarette and starts walking with me.

"I was thinking of going to my apartment for a drink." He winked. Since prohibition, people were sneaky about their alcohol. People called it different things.

"Okay." I felt uncertain about doing this. I felt that I shouldn't be. He walked next to me for a few blocks.

His apartment complex was beautiful, it reminded me of my old house which now was being occupied by my brother and his family. He leads me inside and leads me up the stairs. He opens a blue door with the number 64.

This is weird. He is too casual. I was nervous for some reason. I felt as if I should get out of the apartment. He wasn't a murderer so what did I have to fear.

"For someone as rich as you I didn't picture you living in an apartment." I giggle looking at all the fancy decor.

"Well until I can get a realtor to sell me a house I will live here. I am thinking about moving out of the Boston Area and moving to California. At least there old and new money doesn't exist." He pours some whiskey into a cup.

I was only 19 but I guess it was okay. He hands me the cup. I start to drink it quickly. "Slow down you don't want to get drunk. This is just a relaxer." He giggled.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I put the cup on the chestnut coffee table.

"Tell me why is a woman like you working as a dishwasher?" The question hit hard but the one thing I learned about living on the streets is that you can't show emotion.

"My father was a sexist son of a bitch. He put in the will for all the sisters that I have to get married to get my inheritance. My parents died before I got married but either way, I was gonna marry for love."  James pours himself a glass.

"Who were your parents?"

"John and Mary Harding." James's eyes go big.

"Ah yes they died of the Spanish flu if I am correct?" He takes a sip of his drink.

I nod. "Glad they died. I hated them but during the last time of my mother's life I wanted her to live even though I hated her." I sit on the green velvet couch.

"I hate my father he was the meanest son of a bitch you could ever meet. He would beat me if I got a verse from the bible wrong. That's just a small example of what he did when I was a child." He blinks back a tear.

"Your mother?" He sits next to me.

"She died during the Spanish Flu Pandemic. But she treated me with kindness. My father abused her too. Assaulted her right in front of me." James looks at the painting above the fireplace.

"Where are you living now?" James asks looking at me.

"Brutes." He looks at me almost disgusted.

"I will not allow you to stay there. I will get you a proper hotel room and I shall pay for it." He grabs my hand tightly.

"Mr.March..."

"James."

"Well James first let go of my hand and I will think about the hotel offer. But Brutes isn't that bad. They clean the beds and it's only ten dollars a night." James let's go of my hand.

"I have met someone who got typhus from Brutes." He scoffed.

I shake my head. I stand up and turn around. "Thank you Mr.March for the drink but to get a bed." I walk over to the door and walk out.

I couldn't believe him. I shake my head as I walk to the small bedding house. I go up front to the lady. She was new. She was smoking a cigarette as she read a book.

She looks me up and down. "Sorry, we are filled up. You aren't gonna get a place for a while."

I nod and walk out of the building.

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