Since the day that Mrs. Preston yelled at me, I kept myself away from her kids. When Mama went to work, I just took my art supplies and made drawings in the corner of the living room. Luckily for me, Tuffie was an amazing model, so I had sheets upon sheets of teddy bear drawings. Although, around then I started drawing more than just her. I started sketching people passing by too. There was this old couple that sat on a bench outside the Preston house every Wednesday, and I loved to draw them.

One day, Mama dragged me over to her job, but when Mrs. Preston let us in, she was giving me an even more rude look than usual. She looked ready to lock me in the attic or something.

“Phoebe, could you take your daughter home?” she asked while rushing back to put on makeup. “I don’t want her ruining my company.”

“Mrs. Preston, ma’am, I can’t just leave her at home alo-”

“Why not?”

“She’s just a little girl-”

“I will not have her making a fool out of me in front of Christina! Can you afford to be disgraced by the Hawthorne family?!”

“I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t know who they are.”

“What?! You haven’t heard of them?! They’re only the richest, most influential family in New York! All you would have to do is look at them wrong and they could make sure you’re unhirable! They could get you tossed into the gutter in less than a day! Do you want that?!”

“N-No, ma’am,” Mama shuttered. I had never seen her actually afraid like that before. “But Maxine…”

“What if I stayed with you?” I asked Mrs. Preston, making her reel back.

“What?!”

“If I stayed with you and just drew, then I couldn’t do anything you wouldn’t want,” I said.

“Hmph, you’re not to say a word,” she threatened. “I don’t need Christina thinking that rabble like you are welcome in my house.”

“Yes ma’am,” I said, biting my tongue to not lash out right back at her.

*   *   *   *   *

“Victoria, how are you?” Mrs. Hawthorne asked, letting her kids run into the house.

“Just fine, Christina,” smiled Mrs. Preston.

Two boys and two girls ran inside, colliding directly with the Preston children and creating a whirlwind of noise. I was still crouched in the corner of the living room behind a large chair, hiding from the view of everyone. Mrs. Preston didn’t look very happy about the kids making all that noise though.

“If you’re going to make so much noise, do it in your rooms,” she hissed, and the kids all ran away laughing. “And don’t interrupt the maid!”

“Honestly Victoria, you need to let your kids have some fun,” laughed Mrs. Hawthorne as they both migrated to the living room.

“They have enough as it is,” she sighed. “Too much for their own good, I’m afraid.”

“Beatrice, dear, go play with your sisters,” Mrs. Hawthorne begged. I peaked out from behind the chair, but didn’t see anyone else. Then all of a sudden, Mrs. Hawthorne lifted up her floor-length dress to reveal a girl about my age clinging to her leg.

“I won’t wanna, mommy” the girl whined, clutching her mother’s leg harder.

“Honey,” the mother said, bending down and holding her daughter. “You need to go socialize and make friends, ok?”

“They don’t like me…”

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Beatrice looked up at her mother. “It’ll be ok, hun. Just go have fun. It’ll be ok.”

“Ok…” She looked past her mother and stared me dead in the eyes. Quickly, I ducked back behind the chair. “Mommy, who’s she?”

“Who’s… who?” Mrs. Hawthorne asked, confused.

“Probably a rat,” Mrs. Preston hissed.

“It was a girl!” the girl said.

I heard Beatrice run over to the chair and very slowly, I saw her face appear beside the chair, looking at me like I was an exotic animal. Of course, with her bright green eyes and the wavy platinum blonde, she looked like the exotic animal to me.

“She’s right here, mommy!”

“Shhh,” I shushed. “Don’t-”

“Oh!” Mrs. Hawthorne exclaimed, moving the chair out of the way to see me better. “Hun, what’re you doing back here?!”

“I…” I looked over at Mrs. Preston, who looked ready to bite my head off. So I grabbed my art supplies and Tuffie, then tried to run away. Unfortunately, Mrs. Hawthorne grabbed the back of my overalls and pulled me over.

“Dear, what were you doing back there?” she asked sternly.

“Hiding…” I mumbled.

“From who?”

“From… From…”

“It’s just the maid’s daughter,” Mrs. Preston said, rolling her eyes. “She’s supposed to be quiet and not poke her little head out.”

“Oh Victoria, let the girl play with the others.”

“Mmm sorry Christina, but-”

“It couldn’t hurt having another girl around,” she interrupted, not paying Mrs. Preston’s comment any mind. “You and Beatrice run along now. Go play with the other girls.”

Mrs. Hawthorne shooed me away with her daughter. As the two of us walked down the hallway, we both looked at each other and slowed to a standstill. Then all of a sudden, out of absolute nowhere, she poked me right in the eye!

“Agh!” I cried, falling backwards. “What was that about?!”

“You look and smell funny,” Beatrice said curiously.

“You act funny,” I shot back.

“No I don’t,” she frowned. “Why does the lady hate you?”

“She hates everyone,” I sassed, getting back up.

“Not mommy.”

“That’s ‘cuz she’s scared of your mama.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know… ‘Cuz she’s scary?”

“Mommy’s not scary. Unless you take the cookies without asking. Then she…” Beatrice shuddered. “I don’t like her.”

“Who are your sisters?”

“Ada and Alma are joykills and Angel’s no fun, and my brothers are all bullies except for Reginald. He’s the only one who knows how to treat a lady-”

“Ugh, Beatrice, are you feeding her lies?” Katie called from the bedroom just ahead.

“I don’t lie!” Beatrice stomped, making me back away. “I don’t lie! I don’t!”

“Who are you?” a girl asked, popping her head out the door.

“Max?” Katie asked in delight. “Mother said you could play with us?!”

“Well… Mrs. Hawthorne said I could,” I shrugged.

“Might we know your name?” the other girl asked.

Right as she asked that, all the girls and boys in the room flooded out into the hallway, forming a barrier of children in front of me. They stared eagerly and watched me like I was going to perform some trick.

“I- I’m… Um-”

“This is no way to make a lady feel at home,” one of the boys said, stepping forward and taking my hand. “That's not how gentlemen do it!” He looked back at me. “My name is Reginald,” he said, kissing my hand. “And what is yours?”

“M-Maxine…” I stumbled. I know when you’re really young, you think you know love. You fall head over heels for every dumb boy around the block. But I’ll tell you, in this moment… I really felt something.

“It’s ‘Reginald: The Proper Gentleman’ coming out again,” his brother whispered, making everyone else laugh.

“You can laugh now, Alexander, but who’ll be laughing when no woman wants you because of your poor manners?” Reginald taunted.

“I don’t need women,” he said, turning his nose up. “They’re all selfish, needy pricks.”

At that moment, all 5 girls, including me, gave him a look that left him stammering to amend that statement.

“Don’t look at me like that! I didn’t mean it that way-”

“I think brother has a point,” said one of his sisters. She turned her attention to me. “I’m Alma, and this is my sister, Ada. And… I guess you already met Beatrice.”

“Mother said not to say my name so meanly!” Beatrice stomped.

“Stop being such a snowflake,” Ada said. “Nobody’s going to think you’re any fun if you don’t control your temper problem.”

“I don’t have a temper problem!” she screamed, hitting a side table. We all watched as a small vase tumbled off, sending glass shards, flowers, and dirt cascading all across the floor.

“Oooo, someone’s in trouble,” Alexander smirked.

“Mommy!” Beatrice cried, running into the living room. We all chased after her as she ran into Mrs. Hawthorne’s arms, crying. “Mommy, mommy they’re being mean!”

“Nuh uh!” Ada countered. “Beatrice came in stomping and shouting!”

“They made fun of me!” she cried.

“Who did, honey?”

Beatrice pointed in our general direction, but I guess Mrs. Preston thought she must’ve been pointing straight at me. She put on the meanest face and looked me dead in the eyes like she wanted to strangle me.

“Baby, baby,” Mrs. Hawthorne soothed. “I’m sure they were just playing-”

“Nobody believes me!” the little girl sobbed, running straight out of the house.

“Ugh, I knew letting Maxine play with the rest of the girls was a mistake,” Mrs. Preston spat.

“Please Victoria, it’s not the poor girl’s fault,” Mrs. Hawthorne sighed. “My daughter has been a bit of a… problem around other kids.”

“No excuse to me,” she grumbled. “She upset little Beatrice. I’d tie that thing up in the backyard if I was her mother.”

“I was thinking on doing the same thing to mine,” Mrs. Hawthorne muttered. She turned around and looked at all of us kids. “Go, play. Don’t stick your noses into drama.”

“Except you,” Mrs. Preston sneered, pointing at me and keeping me firmly frozen in place. “PHOEBE!”

“Yes, ma’am?” Mama asked, rushing throughout the house and panting by the time she got to us.

“Take your daughter and leave early,” she waved. “I think you’ve done more than enough for today. Both of you have.”

“U-Unerstood, ma’am,” Mama said, bowing a bit. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do before we leave?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Preston said, narrowing her eyes in disdain. “There should be a broken vase in the east hallway. Clean it up on your way out.”

*   *   *   *   *

“I’m sorry, Mama,” I said, bowing my head while we sat on the bench. 

It was just a small one on the side of the street, big enough only for the two of us. We got to take a seat on days off and just watch the people passing by. I tried to convince some people to buy my art, but… nobody was impressed.

“Why’re you apologizing?” Mama asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well… ‘cuz Mrs. Preston made us leave because of me.”

“What didja do?”

“Nothin’ really. I just tried to play with the kids and that girl went crazy.”

“Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do,” she said. “That’s just silly. Would you want me to apologize for the sun rising too early in the morning?”

“No.”

“Well there you go.”

“I guess…” A man looked down at me and I eagerly looked back up. “Oh, sir, sir, do you want to buy some of my art?!”

“Well, let’s see it first,” he said. I handed him my best sketch of Tuffie posing like she was flexing her muscles. The man burst into laughter. “I don’t have any need to buy children’s scribbles,” the man laughed, letting the paper go. I had to run out into the street to catch it and come back to Mama.

“Mama… nobody’s ever going to buy what I make, are they?”

“Oh baby…” Mama pulled me into a hug. “I think you’ll make it big when you’re a grown woman.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so,” she said with a smirk. “You wanna know what I really think?”

“What?”

“I think with some time and practice, folks are going to line up from here to Virginia to just get a look at one of your drawings.”

“Thanks, Mama,” I smiled, burying my face in her chest. She returned the hug gladly.