1
Sofia walked out of the back room mumbling while carrying the tray of pasta high above her head. This was far from ideal, but what choice did she have? She had only one hour to prepare and she wasn’t about to blow it just because she was supposed to be working. She also couldn’t risk being overheard. Her parents would flip out if they suspected what she was up to.
The one nice thing about working for your parents was, she didn’t need to worry about getting fired. The downside was what they expected from you. Since her brother Sal wasn’t interested in continuing on the family name, either by giving them a grandchild or running the business, it seemed both fell to Sofia. She could sit down with her parents a million times and they wouldn’t hear her. They wanted what they wanted, and one of their children was going to make it happen. Sofia seemed to have drawn the short straw and was stuck.
It wasn’t that Sofia wasn’t good at it; she could do this job with her eyes closed. Heck, she had the same finesse with the customers as her mother, and her skills in the kitchen weren’t too shabby, either. None of that changed a thing. She wasn’t her mother, and the last thing Sofia wanted was to be tied down to the restaurant. Up early and to bed late. Never really going anywhere or seeing anything. Sofia had dreams, big dreams. She wanted the bright lights, the luxurious lifestyle, the cameras flashing and people calling out her name.
They call my name all the time here, when they want a refill or the check.
“Sofia, table four is waiting for their pasta puttanesca,” her mother shouted from the kitchen.
“Yes mama,” she replied as she continued weaving through the tables. It figured the time that she needed to get out of work early, was also the night they seemed to be extra busy. Of course, her mother had to put a sign out front saying, “Buy one entrée, get one free.” She tried containing her frustration, but it wasn’t easy.
Raising the tray even higher, she swayed when she should’ve swerved when one of the patrons spilt wine on himself and stood up quickly. It triggered a chain of events that seemed never-ending. His chair flipped and knocked the back of Sofia’s knee, she grabbed hold of another person’s shirt and she could hear the fabric ripping. Letting go, she tumbled to the floor, her tray went in the opposite direction. Shrieks and swears could be overheard, but barely. It was her mother’s voice that seemed to echo through the room.
As she struggled to get back up on her feet, her mother was apologizing to everyone. At one point, she would’ve sworn she heard her mother call her clumsy. Instead of standing there arguing, she began cleaning up the mess with one of the dish washers. Her father came out from the back, took her by her elbow, and led her into the kitchen.
“Sofia, go home,” he said.
“Papa, I can’t. Mama needs me.” Home sounded great, but wasn’t where she wanted or needed to be.
He reached up and pulled some spaghetti out of her hair. “And you, my dear daughter, need a shower. So do some of the customers. Now go before your mama comes in here and gives us both an earful.”
At times like this, being daddy’s little girl worked in her favor. She placed a kiss on his cheek and said, “Thank you Papa. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“And your mama too. So best sleep well tonight.”
Sofia nodded and walked over to grab her purse. She held it extra close to her as she slipped out the back door. It wasn’t that she was concerned anyone would rob her, but there were important papers in there she didn’t want to fall out.
Once she was inside her Jeep Liberty, she opened it to confirm all was safe and sound. Pulling out the papers, she looked them over. “Thank God.” Sofia tossed them on the passenger seat and pulled away. It was unfortunate that it had all gone down this way, but really, it was perfect. She was getting what she wanted without having to ask. Because if she did, she’d have to lie, and that wasn’t something Sofia felt comfortable doing.
Good thing I’m a pretty good actress.
There wasn’t much time to waste. She took the fastest shower and put on her makeup so she could be back out the door. It wouldn’t matter if she knew the lines or not, if she wasn’t there on time. Thankfully, the traffic lights were in her favor and before she knew it, Sofia found a parking spot and was entering the theater house.
Her heart was beating fast, as though she were about to take the stage in front of an audience. There were hundreds of people trying out for the role. It wasn’t even a lead part, either. Sofia knew the one thing they all had in common: We all want it.
The butterflies in her stomach were threatening to take flight as she took center stage. It was just an audition and only six people, who she wasn’t even sure were paying close attention, were the ones she should be concerned about. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind and focused on the lines she’d been rehearsing to herself earlier.
If she hadn’t been, it was possible she never would’ve lost control of the tray and…I’d still be stuck at work instead of where I want to be.
Sofia knew it was a rough start, but after a few words, the rest of the lines seemed to flow easily. When it was over, someone said ‘thank you’ and called the next person onto the stage. All she could do was take a seat and wait to see if she was going to be one of the lucky ones. Watching the others, she felt deflated; they all seemed good. Sofia didn’t have a portfolio to set her apart from the others. All she had was a passion, which she’d yet to reveal to the world. Was this going to be her break? In a few minutes, she was going to get the answer.
Her cell phone vibrated and she looked at the caller ID. It was her mother. One call that she should take, but no way in hell was she answering it in the theater. With the acoustics, she was positive her mother’s voice would be heard by all, and even in Italian, they would get the point: Sofia was in trouble.
Declining the call, she turned off her phone and slipped it back into her purse. There would be hell to pay for this tomorrow, but tonight, she just wanted one shot at her dream.
“Number seventy-one,” the stage manager called out.
That was her. What was going on? She got up and headed right over.
“I’m Sofia. I’m number seventy-one.”
He handed her a bag and said, “Please put this on.”
Taking the bag, she looked inside. It was filled with torn and tattered clothing. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“You are going to the second level. Read the instructions, we will be monitoring you outside.”