Diamonds and Ice

They’ve been gone for three hours, giving me the peace to finish the all laundry and mending, including the hole in my coat without the usual pesky interruptions or demands. As I set the table, a tiny mechanical bird springs out of hiding to sing its hourly tune. The clock’s pointing arrows warn me that they should be back any moment now.

“I’m so proud of you girls!” my step mother’s voice shatters the silence as she enters the house.

“I can’t believe this! I got matched with the eldest Midaf brother! He’s cute too!” Irina’s bouncy feet shake the floor and everything on it.

“Mine is so much more handsome than yours!” always looking for a way to compete with her sister, Oksana teases her with a fact even I can’t argue. From a very young age, the angels of vanity declared Daniel to be their favorite out of his five brothers.

“Oh, yeah! But mine will be the wealthiest!” with a flash of a tongue, Irina’s comeback shuts her down with what really matters around here.

“Girls! Girls! Manners! Manners!” Step mother decides that their bickering has gone long enough. Finally!

Silently, I watch and wait in our eat-in kitchen. Lunch is set and ready.

“Oh, good! Roasted chicken!” Irina enters, fixing the elaborate hair that I’ve braided for her this morning.

“I’m starving!” right next to her, Oksana plops down at the kitchen nook and whole-heartedly serves herself a portion of boiled potatoes glossed with butter and herb.

“Don’t forget to eat your snow peas too! They’re good for your completion,” as always, step mother never stops fussing over them. “Oksana, go easy on the starch.”

Without a ‘hello’ or ‘thank you’ I remain unnoticed and to stay that way I’ve mastered to glide like a breeze across the floor. Making my presence evident without an expectation or permission only adds unnecessary chores to my daily list.

“Hold up, Victoria. Pull up a chair,” Step mother motions to sit next to her.

I hold my breath. Do my ears fail me? Is this an invitation to eat alongside them? Does that mean I get to eat the same goodness as them instead of picking the leftover chicken from its bony carcass?

“We have to discuss the dinner menu. My daughters’ grooms to be and their parents will be dinning with us tomorrow night and the food has to be made according to their liking."

My lungs deflate, like my heart and hopes. But I can’t show how truly defeated my spirits are and fake my indifference with a straight posture.

“That means you’ll get all the ingredients ready by tonight,” she turns back to her plate.

Something tells me it will be a lengthy trip.

“Yes, step mother. Let me get fetch some paper and a pen from the drawing room,” it’s hard to hold my heavy head up high, but I fight to carry myself with dignity.