The Butcher's Daughter
1771 Words
Amelia
"Amelia, are you almost ready?" My best friend Kylie calls from upstairs. I hear her coming downstairs, set the mascara down, and wait for her to stomp into my bathroom.
My chihuahua Chico yaps at her.
"Chico," Kylie laughs as she enters the bathroom. "You aren't ready," she huffs.
"I am getting there," I respond as I pick up the mascara to finish my eyes.
Chico keeps yapping at Kylie.
"You know who I am," Kylie laughs at my funny dog. "You have worked your ass off for six years to get your degree. Ernesto and I are taking you out tonight," She says with her hands on her hips.
I have been in school for the last six years, completing my degree in computer science. It took longer than I wanted to because I helped at my family's butcher shop because my father was ill. "I am almost ready, Kylie," I tell her.
Kylie and I have known each other since kindergarten. We grew up in the same neighborhood and attended the same schools. I currently live in the basement of the house she just bought with her husband.
"Are you girls down here?" My other best friend Ernesto calls. I wait till he pokes his head into the bathroom. He is a tall, slender Puerto Rican man with tan skin and black hair. He joined our little group in high school when we found him being tormented in the hallway. "Have I taught you nothing about makeup?" He clicks his tongue. He is wearing short shorts and a white tank top.
I look at myself in the mirror. I thought I looked fine with my smoky eyes, which seemed to enhance the brown in my eyes. I have my hair in a slick ponytail. I am wearing a short black skirt with a silvery crop top. "I look fine, don't I?" I ask my friends.
Ernesto and Kylie look at each other and laugh. "Give me that," He grabs the mascara and sets it down. "We are starting over," He opens several drawers. "Girl, we need to organize this shit."
I roll my eyes and sit on the toilet, waiting for him to work his magic. Ernesto and Kylie own a salon. Kylie does hair, while Ernesto does makeup and hair. They have both become well-known in Aurora for their work. "Where are we going tonight?" I wonder. I am not a fan of clubs, but my two best friends insist on taking me out.
"We are going to Pierre's Wharf," Ernesto responds. "It's the hottest new club," He replies while wiping my face clean. "Paul knows the owner." Ernesto's fiancée Paul is an attorney. Paul knows all the right people and gets us into exclusive clubs and restaurants.
Chico sniffs at Ernesto's toes and wags his tail.
“Chico,” Ernesto coos at the pup. "One of these days, we have to let him play with Daisy," He mentions his Pomeranian. "I would love puppies from them."
"Chico is neutered," I mention, and Ernesto huffs.
"Straight women and their dog neutering," He laughs. I sit patiently as he does his thing while Kylie does my hair.
I stare off into space while my friends do my hair and makeup. Fifteen minutes later and Ernesto takes a step back.
"Done," He smiles.
I stand and look in the mirror. "Damn," I mutter as Kylie fluffs my hair. "I look hot."
"That will be one hundred dollars," Ernesto laughs.
"Put it on my tab," I counter.
He snorts, "Your tab is a mile long."
"Okay, let me hop upstairs to get ready then," Kylie announces and jogs out of the bathroom with Chico yapping at her.
I casually walk upstairs into the main house with Ernesto. I hear his fiancée, Paul, talking to Kylie's husband, Myron, in the kitchen.
"The Bears are on fire this season, Paul," Myron shouts. "You can't possibly tell me that the Packers are better."
"I can and I will," Paul counters.
"Arguing about football again?" I ask.
"It's not an argument," Myron huffs. He is a large man with short brown hair and brown eyes. Today he is wearing one of his many Chicago Bears t-shirts. He is a fan of all of the Chicago sports teams except for the White Sox. "I am just stating a fact. The Bears are better than the Packers."
"How many Super Bowls have the Bears won?" Paul laughs. Paul is shorter than Ernesto, with curly blonde hair and brown eyes with glasses. "You look nice, Amelia," He smiles at me.
"Just nice?" Ernesto asks with attitude while opening the fridge door. He pulls out a bottle of Budweiser. "I wish you had better beer, Myron," he says while chugging.
"You drink it anyways, Ernie," Myron laughs.
"Daddy," His and Kylie's three-year-old daughter, Marnie, runs into the kitchen. "Junie won't share," She whines, mentioning her twin.
"Junie," Myron sticks his head out of the kitchen. "I'll be right back," He mutters and stumbles out of the kitchen with Marnie behind him.
I sit on the island while Moose, their yellow lab, walks up to sniff me. I pat the dog on the top of his head, "Hey, Moose," I greet the dog, who wags his tail.
"Moosey, Moose," Ernesto sings in a high-pitched tone while scratching the dog's ears. Moose turns his attention to Ernesto.
"I'm ready," Kylie calls as she comes down the stairs. She is wearing a very short black dress with her breasts nearly spilling out.
Myron walks back into the kitchen, and his eyes bug out, "Really?" He mutters.
"What?" Kylie shrugs.
"It's a bit much, Kylie," Myron huffs.
"I always dress like this to the clubs," Kylie huffs back. "That's how we met."
"That's the problem," Myron shakes his head. "What if some guy tries to pick you up?"
Kylie grabs his chin, "I don't want anyone but you." She kisses his lips and let's go. "I mean, I let you get me pregnant with twins, I might add."
Myron smiles, "Fine."
"We'll be back tomorrow, baby," Kylie grins.
"Be safe," Myron pulls her into his arms.
"I have to go grab my purse," I say, heading for the basement. My apartment has one bedroom, a small kitchen with a living room, and a bathroom. It's not the biggest, but it works for my little dog Chico and me. Chico yips as I run down the stairs. Before heading towards my bedroom, I check to ensure he has food and water. I hear my phone ringing as I enter the room. I see that it's my mom. I contemplate ignoring it, but I know how she gets if I do. "Hey, Mom," I breathe into the phone.
"Amelia," Mom nearly yells. "I am calling to see if you will be here on Sunday for dinner."
"I already told you that I would," I tell her.
"Okay, will you bring pie? You know how much Jonathan loves pie," she mentions my younger brother.
"I will bring pie, Mom," I tell her. "And I will be there."
"Amelia, the Uber is here," Kylie shouts.
"Uber? Where are you going?" Mom asks.
I sigh, "Out, Mom, we are going out."
"Why?" Mom nearly yells again.
I love my mother, but she can be very controlling. That is one of the reasons why I moved into Kylie's basement. My mom likes to pry into every aspect of her children's lives. I am one of three kids, with one older brother and one younger. My older brother Junior runs the butcher shop with our father, while my younger brother Jonathan is in the Army. He is due to come home from being deployed on Saturday. His fiancée and son live with our parents.
"Kylie and Ernesto are taking me out," I tell her.
"Amelia," Kylie calls again impatiently.
"I have to go, Mom. I'll call you later," I say.
"Amelia," Mom says, but I hang up the phone before she can say more.
I drop the phone into my bag and rush up the stairs. "Don't forget to let Chico out for me," I tell Myron.
"You know I will. He likes Moose," Myron nods at his dog lying in a bed.
I run through the living room and wave at the kids before heading outside, where Kylie, Ernesto, and Paul are waiting beside a white sedan.
"Now, you all should be on the list," Paul instructs us. "If they don't let you in, tell them to call Callen," He mentions a colleague. "Callen will get you in."
"Thanks, baby," Ernesto kisses him as we slide into the car.
Kylie tells the driver where we are going.
My phone rings again, and I see it's my dad calling. "Hi, Dad."
"Amelia, your mother is very upset," My father huffs.
"Why?" I sigh as Ernesto and Kylie stare at me.
"You hung up on her," Dad sighs. "You know how she gets."
"I thought she was done talking, Dad," I sigh. "I told her I would be home on Sunday with a pie for Jon. What more does she need?"
"Don't get that tone with me, Amelia," He grumbles. "She said you were going out tonight."
"Yes, I am going out, Dad. I am twenty-five years old. I am allowed to go out. Ernesto and Kylie are taking me out to celebrate my degree," I explain.
"You know how your mother feels about clubs," Dad says.
"So? Dad, I love Mom, but I am an adult. I can go to clubs. Sorry, Mom can't understand that. I don't go very often," I explain.
"Just be here on Sunday," Dad sighs. "And bring pie."
"Yes, Dad," I say and hang up the phone. I look at my friends, "Parents."
"Tell me about it," Kylie laughs. "My Mom still tries to tell me what food to buy."
We all laugh and settle into gossiping until we reach the club. It's on the waterfront in a very industrial-looking building.
"Are you sure this is it?" Kylie asks.
"Yep," Ernesto says as he pays the driver. "It's the hottest club in town," He saunters towards the door, and we follow him.
There is a line of scantily dressed people snaking around the door, but we head straight to the front. A gruff-looking bouncer with tattoos covering his arms and neck looks us up and down. "Names?"
"Ernesto Chavez, Kylie Crosby, and Amelia Fischer," Ernesto responds.
The bouncer looks at his clipboard before picking up the velvet rope. "Go on in," He smirks.
"Thanks, honey," Ernesto touches his shoulder as we all slink inside.
- Writer
