The Big Break

Sleet pummeled the hood of Sasha’s black parka as she sloshed through the dirt-flecked slush layered on the sidewalk. The wind howled in her ears and mixed into the cacophony created by the thwack of sleet and revved engines. The new cars, that spewed exhaust into her lungs as they passed, contrasted with the dilapidated buildings that lined the street. Boards covered the windows and graffiti covered the boards. Litter collected at the edges of the road and blew into the small, yellowed yards of the abandoned homes. Sasha’s emerald eyes darted in analysis of each home as she wondered what lay within. The number of abandoned buildings shocked Sasha when she moved to Cincinnati a year ago, but now they marked the distance of a mile left in her walk to work. Sasha averted her eyes to the sidewalk ahead and raised a hand to protect her dry eyes from the cold air that nipped at her bare skin. Her other hand rubbed the silky tag attached to her coat pocket in circular motions as she tried to ignore her wet, numb toes thanks to the cracks worn into the bottom of her boots.

The world never relented. Raised by an abusive mother, kicked out of college due to a lack of money, and left homeless and without a car by the end of her junior year; Sasha knew hardship, but her mulish manner kept her in stride as she awaited her break in life. She hung her head in shame as she arrived at the rundown barbeque joint where she waited tables. Grime covered the white painted bricks, the “Open” sign blinked in threat of dying, and the knob of the paint-chipped, green door hung loose, but people continued to flock within for what they declared to be “the best wings in Cincinnati.” Sasha didn’t view the job as shameful. Her coworkers worked hard and knew how to provide phenomenal customer service that took tremendous patience. The job required skills, but she yearned for influential work and recognition.

Sasha waved at the cooks in the back upon entrance and offered a dulcet hello to the blonde waitress, Stacey, who leaned against the hostess stand.

“Hey Sash,” she replied without a glance up. Stacey twirled her blonde hair around her stubby index finger as she scrolled through her phone with the other. “Since you’re here, do you think you can cover the rest of my shift for me?”

Sasha rolled her eyes, then glanced down at her analog watch and noted thirty minutes until her shift began. “Sure.”

“Awesome. You’re the best.” Stacey leaped up and pulled out her fur coat and Michael Kors purse from the stand’s under cabinet, oblivious to Sasha’s piercing glare and pressed-thin lips.

Sasha huffed in vexation, as Stacey darted out of the restaurant, and placed her own coat and purse under the stand, then moseyed over to one of the dining room’s rickety, red tables where she flipped open her black, Moleskine notebook. With a crisp and satisfying click of her pen, she filled the pages with black cursive. Her hand ached due to her swift scrawling of script by the time her first customer entered fifteen minutes later. She stared at the page as she imagined her script one day playing on screen. She hoped her dream one day would be a reality, but for now, she closed the notebook with a sullen sigh and tied her black apron around her slender waist as she scooted out of the booth

“Welcome!” Sasha flashed a broad smile as she strolled over to the tall, dark-haired man who stood at the entrance, picking up a menu from the hostess stand on her way. “You may sit wherever you’d like.”

The man pointed to the booth closest to the door. “Here’s fine, if that works for you?”

“That works for me.” She placed the menu down at the booth. “Can I get you something to drink?”

The man shrugged off his tan, trench coat and sat down. He appeared out of place in a grey suit and leather, dress shoes. He ran a hand through his slicked back hair then pulled out a pair of square-framed, reading glasses. “Water is fine. What’s your name, Miss?”

With a meek smile, she replied, “Sasha.”

He quirked an eyebrow and gazed at her with warm, brown eyes. “Sasha, what?”

Her head tilted as her brows furrowed and her mouth gaped open, surprised by his question. “Oh, it’s Sasha Delcroix. What’s your name?”

He smiled and glanced down at the menu. “Oh, my name is no matter of importance.” He waved a hand, and Sasha read it as her sign to leave.

“Okay, I’ll be right back then.” She hurried off to the back of the restaurant and filled him a glass of iced water as she pondered the mysterious man’s identity. Is he a businessman? Maybe he’s someone famous? She couldn’t decide.

When she returned, she found the booth empty except for the menu and a lone piece of paper placed on top of it. She frowned as she set the water on the table and raised the paper to eye level. She scanned the message scribbled onto the page. I find myself in inheritance of $20,000, in which I cannot accept. I leave it to you.

Sasha’s eyes widened and she raised a hand to her quivering lips as she spotted the check written out to her below. She scoped the room in hopes that the man remained somewhere nearby to thank, but he was gone. A smile spread out on her face and her eyes watered as hope filled her within. Unable to hold in her joy, she squealed in excitement.

“What in the world is going on?” a cook hollered from behind the kitchen counters.

Sasha rushed over to the counter, a spring of cheer in each step. “A man just gave me $20,000!” She held out the check for the cook to view.

The cook pulled off his white, chef hat and looked into Sasha’s eyes. “Man, I would love to be you right now. What are you going to do with it?”

Sasha paused and averted her eyes. “Well, I’m definitely buying a car and saving some for publishing my scripts, but the rest of it I don’t know.” She peered back up at the cook. “I’m happy to share with you guys, and then whatever I have left over, I’ll give to the Moleskin Foundation.”

The cook cheered. “Oh, yeah! Bringing in some big money. Thank you, Sasha.”

A giggle escaped Sasha as the cook wiggled his hips in a happy dance. “You’re welcome.” She looked back down at the check written out to her. All her efforts to push through life and its hardships paid off. Finally, she caught her break.