Page 35 of Eyes Like Angel (Eyes Like Angel #1)

Eva

Within weeks, a month of winter has settled in, and the ground floor at the Divine Miracles Church was partaking in a busied structure due to a sudden mess with an important event. The nuns lined up, as I was alongside them, between the gaps we aligned ourselves in, listening to Mrs. Rivers’ words.

“Here’s what I needed for all of you for today. Working, cleaning, and being punctual. I need half of the nuns to work with nurses, tending to the homeless with first aid kit and proper resources to be precise and time-wise,” Mrs. Rivers addressed, pacing and observing each one of us.

They kept their eyes forward as they nodded along to her firm instructions.

“This month will be our time to make necessary preparations. A once in a lifetime opportunity! This charity will be set in weeks. I want all of you to be attentive, to each and every single of our individuals, and provide them with forbearance and hospitality. Once you’re done with providing hospitality, come back to me and report.

Every single one of you must be punctual and generously gracious to these people.

You don’t know where they’ve been. Today is a mark for a landmark for the Rivers Foundation to be flourish, and revolutionary, compare to other foundations.

We must strive harder and better and most importantly, do not fail me. Understood?”

It’s becoming clear that Mrs. Rivers’ propositional and carried the means of her job seriously.

Then she halted her steps and scrutinized me.

“Do you understand, young lady?” she asked me, towering her height, lines on her shadow loomed over my countenance.

Only I could somewhat decipher. After all, she hired me several days ago, maybe weeks ago. She expected greater things from, greater actions for me to take other than housekeeping services.

I nodded.

“Don’t just nod at me,” she said curtly, snapping her fan closed. “Answer me when I asked.”

The nuns besides me held their tongue from snickering. Their chest vibrated in slightest form.

“Understood,” I said in simplest phrase, not tucking my neck down as her gaze never pulled away from mine.

“Excellent,” she said, facing the other nuns. “Go. You’re dismissed. All of you.”

As I was about to march to the exit, Mrs. Rivers called me, her closed fan slapped against her open palm. “Not you, girl! Stay here.” Her fingers beckoned me to go forward.

Then I came over steadily, waiting for her, despite my anxiety was rising, fingernails digging in, so does the pressures over layered my stiffened posture.

Anxiety? No, this condition is supplanted by a treacherous devil. I shouldn’t give in.

I mustn’t give in.

I mustn’t.

I hoped to be as clean as a devoted angel.

My clammy palms folded to fists, pinching my skirt.

“Since you’re so good at cleaning, you are going to be pair up with the assistant from the church kitchen. His name is Micah Angelo. He’ll be seeing you in the kitchen back door over there,” she pointed with her fan. “He’ll be expecting you. Don’t let him down. He’s a nice and respectable man.”

At once, I went through the back doors, and—

“Before you go,” she said, beckoning her fingers at me to come forward, placing the golden keys directly on my palm, “here at the back door keys, one for the back building, and the other for that door over there. Make sure you and Micah only possess these keys I replicated, if you or Micah let anyone trespass in the back area, you two are to be questioned. Am I clear?”

I swallowed my hesitation.

“I…understand,” I answered politely.

She acknowledged at my submission. “Good. Get to work.”

Then I absconded, my skirt fluttered as I rushed to the doors Mrs. Rivers pointed at. From there, I searched the kitchen doors from an elongated hall, wondering where the kitchen doors lead.

My ears perked at the sound of cabinets flown to closure, and I followed the traced sound, leading me back in the kitchens, where the kitchen staff was gone, except a young man, who had his head turned back at me, whistling a catchy tune I was unfamiliar of.

I approached closer, praying I don’t disrupt him in a wrong time. But he looked so cheery in his own way, dishes washed and clean trays settled into the drying rack.

“Excuse me,” I articulated.

His body flinched at my voice. “Woah, Jesus! I-I mean, hey, there! Sister Eva, I assume?”

I nodded, willing to cooperate. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Ah, thank god you’re here. I was just getting worried to where you’re at.”

He piled the clean dishes up back inside the cabinet.

His guffaw was loud as the booming speakers in the church system, clapping his hands at once altogether, as if he was ready to face head on with impossible challenges with an ease, easy-going and mature, unlike any guys or elderly men I came across.

Chill and filled with cordial presence.

“So what am I going to be doing, sir,” I used my regular worker voice, like how I did when being as a housekeeper in the Fort Heaven neighborhood.

“Sir?” he released a brief guffaw, in a one ‘Ha!’ “Please, call me Micah. I’m sure Mrs. Rivers informed you my name.

I insisted on it when she mentioned how other workers should call me ‘Sir’.

But I find that term kind of old, and I don’t feel old.

Don’t like the vibe I’m getting if everybody decides to be formal with me. ”

I tried to make a polite and trivial conversation to fill the quiet void.

“How…old are you?”

“I’m twenty-two years old,” he confirmed, his cheeky dimple appeared.

“Ah,” is all I said.

“So, are you ready to work with me?” He adjusted his second-handed watch.

I looked up once more, meeting his dark, glistening eyes. “I’m ready.”

“Wonderful! Okay, so, let’s get to the basics.

” He moved over to the counters. “When it comes to the kitchen, all we have to do is to collect the trays from the homeless and wash them—morning, noon and night. We each gather them around thirty trays, twenty if you can’t carry heavier, but I’d be happy to assist. And we each take turns for the kitchen when washing and rinsing.

We must clean every single one of them in three hours while putting the trays in the extra cabinets, to avoid any rats or cockroaches infested. ”

Nodding my head as he spoke in regarding to a proper guide to trays and the kitchen, step-by-step. Hearing him talk eased the tension on my body.

The way he gestured and expressed with his hands, his laid-back posture, and the calmness in his voice, it was safe for me to stick by his side, fueled me to learn more tips and tricks to be super-efficient and spotless.

“So, any questions, Sister Eva?” he peered over me.

“We take turns, right?”

“Yup, that’s right.”

“What if one of us gets hurt, whether it’s by accident or something else…”

His brows scrunched. “Something else, what do you mean by that?”

“Like…let’s say I’m sick or injured while working,” I said, half-lie, smoothing my velvet gloves.

He had his hands on his hips. “Then I’m handling all the work while you put the dry stuff away,” he simply informed.

“Besides, we can’t let Mrs. Rivers know about this, of course.

She’ll be mad if I do all the work, but I am actually not uptight.

I can carry heavier stuff, too. If you’re having a dislocation on your shoulder or not bending your injured knee or something else, just call me and I’ll handle the rest.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t hesitate,” he added, putting his palm over shoulder, but stopped due to my slight flinch. Regardless, he lowered his hand and offered a brief handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sister Eva. I know you can do it. Just don’t mind what other people say about you. As long as we have paycheck, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Proceeded to agree at his terms, he said the wet napkin aside and was the first person to turn the key over at the backside after quitting the church kitchen.

“We’re the only ones to have these keys, right?” I asked.

“Mm-hmm, that’s right.”

He unlocked the door, but was having an impossible time to nudge the gravity on the wooden oak door with a bright exit sign stickered on it.

“And what happens if one of us loses the key?” I spoke up.

“Then I give this one to you. As long as Mrs. Rivers won’t know, it won’t hurt her.”

“And what if she approached me about the keys?”

“Then tell her that I lost the keys from running around up and down making a fine contribution to our little society,” he said lightly.

Then I laughed a little.

He turned around and veered at me.

“You know, Sister Eva, you sounded kind of pretty when you laugh,” he commented casually.

That caught me off guard, but quickened at my shake once he shoved against the door outward by force, sunlight pooling in.

“Ready to do this?”

“I’m ready,” I confirmed.

“Alright, good luck,” he said, pacing himself at the crowded space, and the ailment of dread washed over me.

“Don’t let those assholes get to you, okay? Not even those petty Karens everywhere,” he added with urgency. “Always known for being a killjoy and self-righteous whenever it benefits to the cause from meddling and poking noses to someone’s business.”

My head angled to the side.

“Karens,” I uttered in soft puzzlement and soft terror. “Are all the women here are named Karen?”

“No, no,” he said, guffawed. “It’s a meme that people comment makes on the internet.”

Doubts overshadowed me. “Internet…”

Micah looked at me in the eye seriously this time. “You’re kidding, right?”

My pulse ran hot. “I never…kid.”

The confidence in my voice wavered as he handed me the purple apron for me to tie on.

“Well, good news, Sister Eva. We have a lunch break in a total of twenty minutes. Which means,” he set the timer on, “we have a lot to talk about in the golden days of memes and the context to keep up with the slang. I’ll even teach you in a proper way, so that you could become like me, more confident and less tense when facing your hater or use it as a coping mechanism. What do you say?”

My shoulders bopped. “Sure. Why not?”