Page 1 of The Taker

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LEO

“Leo!” my ten year old sister, Lucy, shrieks as she barrels into me and spills my diet soda all over my shirt. “Leo, my pink glitter bow is missing and Ineedit!”

“You’ll be fine without it,” I assure her, stealing a glance at the clock. I have thirteen minutes to clean myself up, get these two gremlins ready, and pack my whites and apron before I have to leave.

She sniffles, her eyes welling with tears.Fuck. Why is she crying?I try to wipe the spilled soda off myself as best I can with a dish towel thatshouldbe in the kitchen.

“But… I need to look perfect. I need to find it.Please,” she begs as she looks up at me with big fat tears rolling down her face. They always get me.

“Okay, let’s make it quick,” I huff, knowing I can’t afford to be late.

I rush around the living room, turning over every object in my path and checking the coffee and end tables. The entire apartment is a complete mess, with askew throw pillows and toys scattered everywhere. Surely a few more out of place thingsin the mix won’t make a huge difference. As I make my way down the hallway, I hear screaming emo rock coming from my middle sister Julia’s speakers. That noise pollution makes me lose IQ points whenever I hear it.

“Julia! I put a casserole in the oven for you two. Make sure you take it out in fifteen minutes and that Lulu doesn’t burn her mouth again!” I shout as I bang on her door. I can’t wait for this phase to pass so she can move onto music that sounds less annoying.

“Okay!” she screams, but I don’t even bother listening to her response as I pass her room and go into the bathroom, the second most likely place that stupid glitter bow would be.

After digging through the ridiculous amount of bath products my sisters cram into the linen closet, I finally find it halfway down the dirty laundry hamper. A quick sniff later tells me it smells fine, and it doesn’t have any stains. I meet Lucy in the living room, tossing her bow to her.

Finally. I pack my bag with my work clothes, pour myself a huge to-go tumbler of iced coffee, and kiss my little sister on the cheek.

“Thank you Leo. Have a good night at work. I love you,” she says as she hugs me goodbye.

“If you need me, call me. Be safe, and make sure Julia puts you to bed around 8:30, okay?”

Lulu smiles at me, then sits on the couch and turns on a classic movie. She loves watching them while she does her homework.

I should be there to help her with her homework.

No matter how hard I work or how fine they seem, I never feel like I’m doing a good enough job raising them.

One day, they’ll be grown up, and I’ll look back on my life and miss these days,I keep reminding myself.

“Hey Leo, you smell like soda,” she says as she opens her book.

Ugh.I run into the bathroom and clean myself up, praying I’m not late to work. After I pack my bag, I run the three blocks to the subway entrance. By the time I pass through the turnstile, I can see my train leaving. I’ll have to wait five minutes to catch the next one, and I’ll be late for kitchen prep.

Yeah, I’m doing agoodjob.

“Leo,these short ribs need parmesan polenta and roasted asparagus, and you have a waiting order of chicken florentine,” my boss, Enzo, shouts at me as he squeezes by behind me.

He tosses a pair of tongs at me from over his shoulder, and I catch them without even looking. I plate a mound of polenta, then place the shortribs on top just so before placing five perfectly grilled asparagus spears on the right side of it.Perfection.

We all work as a cohesive unit in this kitchen, performing a perfected choreography of cooking and plating gourmet food for customers every night. This is aVettoreestablishment—nothing but top-rate service will do.DonVettore was nice enough to give me a job here after my mom left, despite never finishing culinary school. It’s my only means of supporting my sisters, so I made sure to earn my spot here. I also don’t want to be confronted by some scary mafia enforcer for subpar service, so I give my best every shift.

And this shift, I’ll have to somehow double my best efforts. Two of our station chefs called out, and no one was able to replace them, so now I have to do two people’s jobs when I was already overworked to begin with. The raucous clanging of potsand pans, chatter, and noise from the dining room dies away, and I fall into the zone as I plate another portion of chicken and top it with a savory, creamy garlic and spinach sauce.

“Ugh, that sauce smellsdivine,” my friend Sammy groans as he passes me with a tray of hot bread. “Are you going to Club XYZ with us after work?”

“Maybe. Let me see how I feel at the end of the shift.” Julia’s old enough to stay with Lucy overnight, and I haven’t been out in a long time.

I toss the idea of going out to the back of my mind as I bring dish after dish to the front for the servers. Before I know it, an hour and a half has already passed. Only three more hours to go before we can start shutting down.

“Leo, I need you to do me a huge favor,” Enzo rasps, out of breath. “There’s an issue with the broiler I need to fix, and the customers at table seven are asking to speak with the chef. Maria is too new to send out there, and I don’t trust Sammy to hold his tongue if there’s an issue. Go talk to them, and if something is wrong, do whatever you have to to rectify it.”

“Okay.” I’m not a huge people person, but it doesn’t seem like I have a choice.

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