The black electrical tape did not even hold until the toast was cold. I pressed my thumb against the rubber sole of Leo’s blue canvas sneaker, but the adhesive gave way with a dry hiss, exposing the gray cardboard underneath.
“I can walk on the heel, Mom,” Leo said.
He stood perfectly still by the kitchen table with his hands tucked behind his back. He did not complain about the draft coming under the backdoor, though his bare ankles were pale in the early morning light.
“I am sorry, Leo,” I said, rubbing my left wrist where my husband’s watch used to sit. “We just need it to last until the first of the month.”
A gallon of milk at the corner store in Columbus was three dollars and forty cents now, and the red ink on the rent notice said six hundred dollars. I did not have seven dollars left in the copper jar on the counter.
“The glue has lost its tension,” Leo said, watching the black tape curl back toward my fingers.
“Just keep your toes tucked under the cart, Leo,” I whispered, pulling another strip of tape from the roll.
The tape curled up at the edges the second I let go, refusing to stick to the dirty blue canvas.
The basement supply closet smelled of citrus pine disinfectant and wet mop strings. The autumn chill had already settled into the brick walls, making my fingers feel stiff as I reached for the clean rags on the lower metal shelf.
Arthur, the retired security manager, was waiting by the metal shelves. He reached into his coat pocket, his fingers fumbling with his brass pocket watch before he pulled out my nightly schedule sheet.
His hand shook so much that the yellow paper fluttered between his fingers, the white sheets rustling in the draft.
“You are late, Rosa,” Arthur said, giving a dry, gravelly cough.
“I am sorry, Arthur,” I said. “The babysitter had to stay with her sister today, and I could not leave Leo on the front porch.”
Arthur looked at the heavy door leading to the lobby, then back at his schedule sheet.
“Julian is on a tear today,” Arthur whispered, checking the hallway. “Keep your head down on ten.”
I guided Leo into the back of the service elevator behind my gray cleaning cart. The metal walls of the service carriage were cold and smelled of wet iron and old grease.
“Stay in this corner behind the trash liners,” I said. “If anyone comes in, you do not make a sound.”
“I will be quiet,” Leo said in his slow, remarkably calm cadence.
He stood perfectly still, his back pressed against the metal wall, his hands tucked behind him.
The black tape on his right shoe had peeled back entirely now, dragging on the floor like a dead leaf.
I reached down to tear the loose strip away, but the whole sole of the sneaker came off in my hand, leaving his white sock resting directly on the cold floor.
Leo looked down at his white sock against the dark linoleum, but he did not wiggle his toes or pull his foot back.
The canvas was completely ruined, the blue fabric torn wide open at the seams.
“I can go barefoot,” Leo whispered.
If anyone from management saw a barefoot child in the penthouse hall, my badge would be gone before dark. But there was no babysitter, and I could not leave him in the street.
The tenth floor penthouse suite was quiet except for the sound of my dust mop on the polished marble. The brass dial on the wall safe caught the light from the desk lamp, gleaming like a small coin in the corner of the office.
Julian stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, spinning a gold signet ring on his pinky finger.
“Tell them the funding is secure,” Julian barked into his phone, his voice loud and rapid. “I do not care about the board meeting. We close the deal on Tuesday.”
I kept my head down, pushing the cart slowly along the edge of the mahogany desk.
Leo was sitting on a yellow plastic crate behind my cart, his bare feet tucked completely out of sight under the black plastic shelf.
Julian turned around, his eyes sweeping the room, and his brow furrowed as he looked toward the doorway.
“Who left the service door unlocked?” Julian demanded, cutting his call short.
“I am sorry, Mr. Julian,” I said, stepping between him and the cart. “I was just finishing the floor.”
Julian did not look at me, but his fingers kept twisting the gold ring.
The heavy brass elevator doors sliding shut with a cold, metallic scrape.
I did not let Leo out of the corner until the hallway was completely empty and the heavy elevator doors had settled into their frame. The penthouse executive suite was quiet now, the only sound being the squeak of my rag against the long glass tables.
Leo sat on a blue plastic utility crate near the corner, his small shoulders hunched forward as he watched me work. His bare feet were tucked back out of sight, but he kept his eyes on the heavy brass dial of the wall safe behind Julian’s mahogany desk.
