Eaton and Associates - A/U Modern-day Chicago. Tris is a nineteen-year-old orphan struggling to build a life for herself after a tragic accident took her parents, her home, and her comfortable suburban teenage life. Tobias is an up and coming young attorney with a tragic past and a sizeable inheritance. Watch as their paths cross at Tobias' law firm, Eaton and Associates. Rated T (PG-13) for occasional language, adult situations, and violence.
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Tris Prior goes through her nightly routine. Push the little loveseat across the worn carpet of her tiny living room, stopping as close to the radiator as she can. Go into her ice cold bedroom for sheets, blankets, and a pillow. Close the bedroom door so the living room's pitiful radiator might keep her somewhat warm in spite of its pitiful output.
The bedroom would be easier to heat, and her full-sized bed, which nearly fills the closet-sized room, would be infinitely more comfortable than the tiny couch, but the radiator in the bedroom produces no heat at all, and the large drafty windows let in the cold night air. So Tris makes her bed on the loveseat every night.
Once the makeshift bed is put together, Tris washes up, brushes her teeth, and puts on pajamas. Now that it's November and it has gotten cold in Chicago, her pajamas consist of leggings, worn flannel pants, a long-sleeved thermal shirt, socks, and - on really cold nights - a sweatshirt.
She walks around the small apartment, checking that the door is locked and the deadbolt is secured. She checks the window latches and tucks old towels against the glass to try and stop the cold drafts. One of the windows has a bullet hole in it, which was there when Tris moved in, patched with clear packing tape. She added another layer of tape when it started getting cold, and checking the tape has become part of her nightly ritual.
Once she is confident that her little hovel is as secure as it's going to get, Tris crawls into the mass of blankets on the loveseat, curls into a ball, and tries to sleep. It's not easy in this neighborhood - the crime and poverty rates are high in this part of Chicago. It's not unusual for Tris to hear gunshots at night, and police sirens sound so often she barely notices them anymore.
This life is a far cry from the suburb where Tris and her brother, Caleb, grew up. Their family was middle class, comfortable in a paycheck-to-paycheck kind of way. Their house was small, but clean and warm. They attended good public schools. Their mother, Natalie, was a stay-at-home mom, a wonderful cook, and a faithful volunteer at several organizations. Their father, Andrew, was a brilliant man who gave up lucrative prospects when he was young to pursue his passion for public service. The Priors were a loving couple, and good parents.
And then they were gone.
Andrew fell asleep behind the wheel one night when the couple was coming home late from a work holiday event. Their car crashed into a freeway underpass, and both were killed instantly.
When their parents died, Tris and Caleb's comfortable world died with them. The accident was Andrew's own fault, so there was no one to pursue for liability for their deaths. The couple didn't have life insurance, either. When the estate was settled, it took everything they had to cover their debts and the cost of the funeral.
Tris was eighteen when her parents died, legally an adult, but not finished with her senior year of high school. Caleb was nineteen and away at college. His professors were understanding, and Caleb came home, bumping across the Midwest on a bus. His education was financed through scholarships and grants, and he had to maintain his grades or pay everything back, so the siblings decided that after the funeral Caleb had to go back to school.
Tris stayed in their parents' house for as long as it took to get their affairs settled. Then she watched as her family's possessions were sold at an estate sale and her childhood home went on the real estate market.
Of course she wasn't completely alone during that difficult time. When everything was being sold, Tris' friend Christina and her parents offered Tris a place to stay. They cleaned out a garage stall so she could hold on to sentimental items and the kind of everyday things that are of no value to sell, but which cost a lot to replace. Tris and her friends loaded boxes of everyday dishes, worn towels and bedding, a mattress set, a battered coffee table, and the little loveseat into Christina's garage. She also saved the family photo albums, her own clothes and art supplies, and her mother's wedding dress.
The remainder of senior year was a struggle for Tris. She grieved hard for her parents, and for the life she lost. She managed to hold down a part-time job at the mall, and scraped by in school. Under normal circumstances, she might not have been allowed to graduate as her grades took a nosedive. But Tris' teachers knew that she was smart, and a good student normally, and they understood her loss and grief.
After graduation, Tris knew she couldn't afford to stay in their upper-middle-class suburb. Her parents had barely afforded to live there, and Tris knew there was no way an eighteen-year-old with just a high school diploma could make enough to afford the cost of living. She searched the city and found a cheap apartment. It was in a bad neighborhood, and Tris knew the housing authority would probably shut it down if they got a look at it, but the landlord asked very little down and kept the rent low in exchange for cash and the tenants' silence on the many health and safety violations. Tris had enough in savings from her job to pay the first months' rent and utilities.
Tris assumed that in a city as large as Chicago she would be able to find a decent job that didn't require a college degree. They had to need waitresses at all the expensive restaurants, sales people at the high-end retailers, and receptionists at all the office towers, right? But finding work had proven difficult. Part of the problem was that Tris didn't have a car. She was dependent on the city's public transit system to get around. It was effective, but took a long time to get from point A to point B, and not many routes ran to her crime-ridden neighborhood late in the evening. Riding the trains and buses every day added up, too, and Tris had to factor that into her salary requirements.
She finally found something to tide her over - a daytime waitressing gig at a cafe called Georgie's. The cafe was within walking distance of her crappy apartment, which was good. But it was a cheap place in a bad neighborhood, so the tips were terrible. And aside from those meager tips, she only earned minimum wage. If she picked up every shift she could, never taking more than her one day off per week, and if she counted every penny, Tris could afford her rent with utilities, some minutes for her cell phone, and three simple meals a day.
Sometimes Tris had to skip a few meals when the tips were poor, when she needed to have more copies of her resume printed, or when Caleb's birthday came and she had to send him a little gift. In spite of her already slight frame, she lost weight in the five months since she moved out on her own.
Caleb has no idea how bad Tris is struggling, and she wants it to stay that way. His scholarships, grants, and the internship that kept him in Indiana all summer mean that he has a place to live, three meals a day, and a good future. Tris fears that if he knows what her apartment is like or just how pitiful her job is, he might jeopardize his future trying to save her.
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Tris wakes up on the same little loveseat where she watched Saturday morning cartoons as a child. She stretches her stiff back and begins the morning routine of putting her bedding away and praying for hot water. She's lucky this morning, her quick shower is lukewarm.
She dresses in the ugly pink waitress uniform of Georgie's Cafe and wonders, not for the first time, how many other women have worn the faded pink dress. Gathering her winter coat and purse, she locks the apartment on her way out.
As usual, she's early for work. If the cafe isn't busy, she can use the time to drink a cup of coffee and look through the want ads in the morning paper. If the cafe is busy, or if one of the early shift girls wants to leave sooner than scheduled, Tris happily takes the extra hour of work, even though her feet will complain by the end of the day.
Today the cafe is quiet. A cook named Al is manning the grill, and Tori, the cafe's owner, is waitressing. Tori doesn't wear the ugly retro uniform. She's dressed in jeans and a black shirt, and Tris can't help the pang of jealousy she feels as she tugs the short dress a little lower on her thighs.
Tori and her brother, George, inherited two side-by-side storefronts from their grandfather, George Sr. Tori opened a tattoo parlor in the smaller storefront while George took over their grandpa's cafe. The neighborhood steadily declined, but the siblings fought to stay in business. George Jr. was killed five years ago in a mugging that turned deadly, and everyone says that Tori has never been the same. She closed the tattoo parlor to focus on keeping her brother's restaurant from going under.
Tris can tell that Tori's heart isn't in the restaurant business. She's a very talented artist, but losing her brother broke her spirit. That doesn't stop heavily inked patrons from begging her to tattoo them. She usually says no, but Tris has seen her arrange tattoo jobs for favorite customers or when she needs the money.
"You're early," Tori greets Tris.
"By the time the caffeine kicks in I'll be ready to clock in," Tris replies, pouring herself a cup of steaming hot coffee.
Tori just nods, and Tris sits down with the newspaper to check the help wanted ads. She finds three new jobs to apply for, all receptionist positions downtown that don't specify the need for experience or higher education. Tris makes note of the addresses and decides that since tomorrow is her day off, she'll dress up and deliver her resumes in person.
The rest of the day flies by in a rush of coffee cups, order slips, and plates of greasy diner fare. Tris chats with the patrons she knows, and tries to spend as little time as possible with the known troublemakers and the guys with the gang tattoos.
Tips are good enough that Tris feels confident about her plan to take a trip downtown to apply for jobs. When she gets off work at the diner, she stops in at the public library to use their computers to look for more job possibilities and to check her email. There are no replies from prospective employers, but she does have an email from Caleb that makes her smile.
When the library closes, Tris returns to her chilly apartment. There she sets out a decent looking work outfit - a grey pencil skirt with a little ruffle detail at the hem, a matching grey blouse, and a royal blue cardigan. Nude hosiery will do little to keep her legs warm, but it's something. And her mother's grey leather pumps, large black purse, and simple silver earrings will complete the look.
Tris makes herself some soup for dinner, and prepares a sandwich to take along downtown as tomorrow's lunch. Then it's back to pushing the loveseat near the radiator and bundling up for bed.
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A/N: Something NEW for E&A - Pinterest Boards! Look me up on Pinterest - AnnLiberty (all one word) - I have boards for some of my stories, so you can see the visuals that inspired me!