RafaelI push the little plate aside and look at Madeleine. “You pick one,” I say. “I like all of them.”Her eyes haunt me. She’s practically begging me to forgive her, and it’s hard not to crack under the pressure. “No.” She shakes her head. “The cake is the one thing you wanted to do.”“Fine. The Italian Cream,” I end the conversation right then and there. I cannot take one more argument.She perks up and smiles, but I quickly crush her excitement with a cold look.“Is something going on between you two?” Angelica asks and looks from me to Madeleine.I don’t take my eyes off Maddie when I say, “No. It’s just been a hell of a week.”The little old woman, Etta Bianci, the youngest granddaughter of the original baker, pretends she can't hear us while she writes down the order. Unlike Angelica, she has picked up on the tension between me and Madeleine, but she knows better than to say anything about it.“There has to be enough cake for two-hundred-and-fifty people,” Angelica declares.
MadeleineI don’t get a chance to talk to Ethel until much later that evening. After I put Betsy to bed and kissed her goodnight, I go downstairs to see Ethel accepting a take out order.She looks up and giggles like a little girl. “I was naughty,” she says. “I ordered food from Gusto. I figured we deserved a treat.”“What’s Gusto?” I ask as I walk over to her.“Just the best Italian, English-owned restaurant in the city.”I smile and sit at the counter, watching as Ethel dishes up the food and gets two wine glasses from the cabinet. She fills both glasses with white wine and hands me one. I sip it, grimace and put the wine back down.“So what happened with Rafael?” she gets straight to the point.I grab my glass and empty it in one go, barely even tasting the alcohol as it slides down my throat. Ethel refills the glass, and I start talking.By the time I’m done, our plates are empty and so is the bottle. “I don’t know why I kept doing it. I just pushed his button.” I stab the air wi
MadeleineFor a good minute, Rafael doesn’t speak, then he says, “You don’t have to worry about it. I made sure you and Betsy will be taken care of if I ever go to prison.”I fold my arms over my chest and glare at him. Is that what he thinks of me? That I’m just here for the money? “Do you think the only thing I’m worried about is your money? I know how to make money, Rafael.”He sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “I didn’t say that.”“You implied it.”“No. I just don’t want you to be worried. You and Betsy will be set for life.”Frustration and anger swirl inside me like a tornado. “You don’t get it! What about you? What will become of you?”“To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought. If I go to prison, I go. Such is the life.”“How can you be so flippant about it?” I bite back a scream. “You have no idea what it’s like. I’ll be at home all day worrying about you.”“Jesus Christ Madeleine,” he sighs. “Why are you doing this now? You knew what you were getting into. Since I
Rafael“Bail is set at a hundred thousand dollars,” the judge declares and drops her gavel.It’s about what I expected. I take Leah by the elbow and nod at the bailiff who leads us from the courtroom.“Well thank you for trying,” Leah says as soon as we’re in the corridor that leads back to the holding cells.“What do you mean trying?” I ask. “With your rap sheet, you’re lucky that I managed to get you out on bail.”“I don’t have a hundred K, Mister.”“I’ll post your bail. Just make sure you check in with the pretrial officer every week, and for God’s sake stay away from your husband. I don’t want to waste my money on someone who can’t follow simple instructions.”Leah’s mouth drops open. “No. I can’t let yah pay my bail.”“Would you rather sit in jail for the next year?” I glance at my watch. The argument went on for quite some time, and by now Madeleine will be waiting for me. I’m more concerned about her than I am about Leah. “See it as a token of my gratitude. For taking care of
RafaelI arrive at the courthouse two hours before the bail hearings are scheduled to begin. I already checked and made sure Madeleine is on the roll today - right between one Bertha Clarke and Leah Thomas.The building is already awake. Paperwork shuffling, phones ringing, prosecutors walking in with coffee and circles under their eyes, harassed paralegals running after them with files in their hands. The city never sleeps, and neither do the bastards who go after soft targets like Madeleine so they can look like they’re doing their jobs.I take the elevator up to the sixth floor, straight to the District Attorney’s office. I don’t wait at reception. I don’t ask for permission, and no one tries to stop me. I open the frosted glass door to Assistant District Attorney Nolan’s private office like I own the building.He looks up from his desk, mid-sip of coffee. “Rafael. Haven’t seen you in a while. Are you here as a defendant or-”“Shut up,” I sharply cut him off. “You’re going to drop
MadeleineThe moment Rafael leaves, everything starts to happen really fast, and I don’t have time to think about what will happen next.A female officer escorts me to the holding cell. She doesn’t say anything - not even when I stumble because the canvas shoes are too small and I can’t feel my toes. She just pushes me forward like I’m a stubborn cow who won’t get in the milking machine.A steel door opens with a loud buzz, and a metallic clack. Suddenly we’re not alone anymore. The air is filled with the noise of dozens of women screaming and talking at the same time. We walk past two crowded cells and three guards before we stop.“Get back!” the guard hollers, and the cell door swings open on rusty hinges.There are six women already inside. One’s pacing like a caged animal. Another is curled up in the corner, whispering to herself. The others are louder - laughing too hard, talking too fast, swearing at no one in particular.The officer places her hand between my shoulders and giv