said, Maria was careful never to complain.
“At the end of the school year last year, after Barney had cut everyone’s pay, Maria was so worried about making ends meet that she went through the trash all over campus, collecting things students left behind,” Gaby said now. “Do you know how humiliating that was for her? These girls, the things they throw away—”
“I know,” Sam said.
In the final days of her sophomore year, she had acquired a cast-off mini-fridge, a rug, and a pair of lamps that her mother deemed nice enough to put in the family room at home.
“Even in the kitchen, they told us to throw away an almost-new blender, boxes of dishes, a six-hundred-dollar mixer that worked perfectly fine.”
Sam nodded. The school periodically replaced such things, long before they needed replacing.
“Maria sold all that crap, to pay some bills,” Gaby said. “Not that she got much for it. But still, she felt so bad, so embarrassed. You know she prides herself on being professional. Everything on the up-and-up. I told her that’s her right. She has to survive.”
“Of course,” Sam said.
“It’s even worse for poor Delmi. At least Maria’s sons, my cousins, they contribute. Delmi’s kids are, like, thirtysomething and they all live off her. She can’t even make rent at this point.”
“What about you?” Sam said. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Gaby said. “This job is just temporary for me. Hopefully soon I’ll have enough saved so that me and Josie can move out of my mom’s. And then eventually, I’ll get around to finishing school.”
Gaby’s words made Sam feel guilty. She had wondered many times what it must be like for Gaby, having to serve three meals a day to college girls whose lives were so much easier than her own.
Gaby looked past her. She said, “The princess wants you.”
Sam turned her head to see Isabella on the stairs.
Isabella paused halfway down.
“You forgot your phone,” she said, dangling it over the railing.
“She can’t be bothered to do those last few steps,” Gaby said softly, as if narrating a nature film. “The princess is tired. Maybe her maid could come and carry her the rest of the way.”
Sam didn’t think Isabella could hear her. But still.
She looked from one friend to the other. She regretted, now, the things she’d said about Isabella when she was gone. Sam had inadvertently made Gaby despise her, when she had only been trying to say that Isabella was lovable in spite of her entitlement. Hadn’t that been her point?
Isabella didn’t like Gaby either. She seemed intimidated that Sam should have a friend she didn’t know. She watched Gaby’s expressions in the dining hall and said, “What flew up her ass?”
Sam was happy not to be working in the kitchen this year. She got to sleep later. Caring for Gil was so much easier than that job had been. But she felt bad eating with her friends as Gaby worked. Especially when Isabella put her feet on the table, or left a pile of crumbs when she was done, further convincing Gaby that every bad thing she believed about her was true.
* * *
—
Sam and Gil walked in the front door at ten to five, later than usual. Elisabeth’s car pulled into the driveway soon after.
When she came in, she was on the phone, talking fast. “I feel like I’m closing in on something interesting,” Elisabeth said.
She looked at Sam and rolled her eyes.
“Frankly, I need the money,” Elisabeth said. “I can’t tell you how much I need it. Long story. A bad investment.”
Without a word exchanged between them, Elisabeth took Gil from Sam, placed him in his bouncy seat, reached into her wallet, and pulled out the week’s pay in cash.
“Yes, totally,” she said into the phone. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
Thank you, she mouthed to Sam, giving her the bills.
Sam put on her coat and kissed Gil on the cheek. “Bye-bye,” she said, shaking his fat hand.
She waved at Elisabeth, who, in turn, placed her palm over the cell phone’s receiver and whispered, “Are you coming for dinner on Sunday?”
“I’d love that,” Sam whispered back.
“Great. See you then.”
Elisabeth raised her voice and resumed talking enthusiastically to whoever was on the other end of the line.
* * *
—
When Sam was working, she let herself in each morning at Elisabeth’s request. But when she joined them for dinner, she rang the bell.
That Sunday, Elisabeth answered the door with Gil in her arms.
“He refuses to go down,” she said. “I hope