by Jamie Knight
Fresh bread is served. It is nice and warm, must’ve just been baked in the oven. I wonder what the kitchen here looks like? I’ll have to ask Brent to show me sometime. It has to be state-of-the-art with the most modern appliances. Our kitchen at home has all 90s equipment installed. The coffee maker might be the newest piece and that has to be at least ten-years-old.
An appetizer course of chilled shrimp cocktail and deep-fried calamari comes out. I do admit I love these dishes. I have never seen shrimp this large before. I have to be reserved and only take one at a time from the bowl. I want to scarf them all down in a ravenous manner!
Dinner finally arrives and it is filet mignon wrapped with bacon. The sides are grilled asparagus and a sweet potato topped with cinnamon, brown sugar and butter. I cut into my steak and bring a piece to my mouth. It tastes like heaven. Oh, what I have been missing! The best meal we had at home was ribs and Jersey sweet corn for Robert’s sixteenth birthday, the year my dad said he became a man. I thought I was living then!
After dinner they ask if anyone would like a coffee or cordial.
“What’s a cordial?” I ask Brent.
“It’s a liqueur,” he starts to explain. “They’re distilled spirits that are infused with different types of ingredients. Usually fruits, spices or creams. They are typically sweet and a nice accompaniment with dessert.”
Well, when they say you learn something new every day.
“What do you recommend?” I ask him.
“Ask for a snifter of Bailey’s,” he says. “You’ll like it.”
We order our after-dinner drinks, and I’m going with Brent’s suggestion. As we wait for the servants to bring our selections, Arron, Brent’s cousin, clinks on his glass to get everyone’s attention.
“We have an important event to celebrate this evening,” he says with a snarky grin. “Might we have some champagne? And caviar, too. From the private reserve stock.”
The aunts and uncles in the room nod, agreeing that the occasion of Brent’s engagement is cause for celebration.
Arron snaps his fingers at a servant to fetch some bottles. The gentleman in the tuxedo turns towards the kitchen to fulfill his duty. I can’t help but think how rude Arron went about it, however. I would never treat another person that way.
Our after-dinner drinks arrive. I take a sip of my Bailey’s and it is nice and creamy in my mouth. Some cakes and pies are delivered as well. I choose a slice of strawberry cheesecake. It’s delicious.
The champagne is brought out and poured for everyone at the table. Arron clinks his glass again and stands up to make a toast.
“I want to wish Brent and Lindsay congratulations on their engagement,” he says, but his smile doesn’t seem genuine. “I can’t say I want it to last for obvious reasons”—a few of Brent’s relatives chuckle—"but if it does, you have my blessing. Congrats!”
The whole group raises their glasses and responds with “Congrats!” as well. I find what Arron said and the whole sedate mood of the evening to be rather bizarre. But like a good girl I keep my mouth shut. I am completely outnumbered here, and I want them to like me.
I smell the champagne and swallow a gulp. I’ve never had it before and always wondered what the big deal is. It is bubbly and somewhat dry. It seems fine to me, so I take another sip.
Brent’s aunt, Henrietta, takes a sip and practically spits it back into her glass.
“This is complete rubbish,” she says in a ridiculously proper accent.
I keep sipping it. Really, it doesn’t taste bad at all. Henrietta sees this and points at me.
“Oh! Poor dear, Lindsay,” she says in a condescending voice. “How can you drink this swill? Have you never had good champagne before?”
I lower my glass and look around. They are all staring at me expectantly waiting for my reply.
“Oh, I’ve actually never had champagne at all,” I answer innocently and truthfully.
Everyone except Brent breaks out into uproarious laughter. This all escalated quickly. Like they’ve been waiting all night for the opportunity to strike.
I feel my face start to turn red again. I don’t want to blush in front of this family. My face turning beet red will probably make them laugh harder. I take a few deep breaths and rub my cheeks hoping that they are returning to their normal color.
Brent picks up a dish and offers it to me.
“Would you like some caviar?” he asks trying to move on and change the subject.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Fish eggs,” he says matter of factly.
“Oh no, I don’t want that,” I politely decline with a scrunched-up nose. Why would anyone eat such a thing?
Brent goes to pass the dish, but his cousin Collin grabs the plate. He keeps the dish in front of me and starts laughing even more.
“Are you sure? It’s really good,” he says.
I’m starting to smell the fish eggs now and it’s disgusting. I just want them out of my sight before they make me sick. I feel my face starting to go red with anger.
Arron looks at Collin pushing the plate into my face and he starts to snort a bit like a pig. He can’t control himself. The laugher is overtaking him.
“Oh my, Lindsay, I have to declare that you are a delightful country bumpkin,” Arron announces.
This makes me a bit angry. I know he doesn’t mean what he said kindly. It was definitely a cutdown. I will show him!
“Okay, I’ll try it,” I say stubbornly.
I take the plate and see there are several items you can add to the caviar for taste. There are crackers, lemons and diced red onions. I put the caviar on a cracker and add some of the other additions on top hoping to make it more palatable. I take a bite… And I immediately spit it out into my napkin. The texture is just too gross for me. It’s like having grit in my mouth.
The entire room roars again with laughter. This is turning into an absolute nightmare and I was doing so well up until this point!
“We should check the poor girl for lice,” Brent’s uncle Thomas blurts out to more laughter.
My face is going even more red, this might be the darkest shade it’s ever been. I want to run and hide but I don’t want them getting the best of me either. So, I try to relax and ignore everyone.
As for Brent, he is doing his best to keep a calm face, but I can hear him snickering under his breath. I guess that trait of the Morgan family, the one that likes to laugh at the expense of those less fortunate, hasn’t completely skipped him by. It’s very disappointing. I thought he and I were past that.
As much as I want to withstand the abuse, however, I can no longer take it. I get up without a word and leave the dining room. Behind I hear the laughter reach its peak. It fortunately fades from earshot as I break away faster and run up the stairs.
The mansion is so large I easily get lost in it. And that is fine. I am happy to be far away not knowing where I am. So long as I don’t go in a circle and end up back in the dining room with that ruckus bunch.
I try to find the bedroom Brent and I are supposed to be sharing but I only remember going there once to drop off our bags. And at that moment, I just want to grab my things and go. I am so embarrassed by my upbringing. It is clear I don’t belong here. Maybe I could call a cab or take an Uber? That will cost so much money, though. Probably just pocket change to this snobbish family.
I know the bedroom is on the third level, so I walk up another staircase. At the top I wonder if it was left or right. I decide to go to the left and pass by a room with a light on.
“Lindsay! Lindsay is that you?” a choking voice calls out from the room.
It’s Grandpa Morgan!
I rush in to see him. He is coughing quite a bit. I see a pitcher of water with some glasses and pour him one. I take it to him, then help him sit up a bit so the coughing can subside. He takes the glass of water and gulps it down.
“Bless you, sweetheart,” he says with a gentle smile.
I take the cup back an
d set it back by the pitcher. He seems to be settling down a little and is more relaxed. Then he motions for me to come back over.
“Please, sit down and tell me about your evening,” he says.
I join him in the chair next to his bed, look at him, and then immediately start crying.
“Oh my, child, what is the matter?” he asks.
“I will never fit in here,” I say through the tears.
“That simply isn’t true,” he tries to assure me. “What makes you think that?”
I wipe my eyes with a tissue from my pocket and start to compose myself. After I minute, I can talk again. I like how patient he is with me, and the fact he is not laughing at me like the others. How can such a rotten group be related to this wonderful man?
“I just know because I grew up poor,” I explain. “They’ll never see me as an equal.”
“Well let me tell you something kiddo, I was born poor too,” he says.
I am little surprised to hear this. And it makes me feel a little bit better. Finally, someone I can relate to in this crazy house!
“Really?” I say in almost a whispering tone.
“Really. I started with nothing. I had to fight for every scrap when I was a kid. I even made my own baseball glove out of cardboard,” he says. “But I eventually made something of myself and, as you can see, turned that success into an even bigger success.”
I smile. It’s probably the first time I have done so all night.
“I tried to raise my kids well,” he continues. “I wanted to show them the value of hard work and being honest with folks. But it’s tough to do with people who have been rich their whole lives. They don’t understand like we do. Now, does Brent act that way? Can he be an uppity whippersnapper who needs to learn about what is actually good in life?”
“He does… sometimes,” I admit. “He can be a real snob.”
“Well dear, if you are going to be his wife you need to call him out on it,” he says. “That’s what a good girl does. You want to be one, right?”
“Yes, I do,” I confirm.
“I’ve done all I can to help him,” he says. “It’s up to you now to make sure he becomes the man I know he could always be. An even better man than me.”
Grandpa Morgan starts to cough again. I rub his back to help him calm down. And I think about what he said and how I must now figure out ways to help Brent change for the better, because I do believe he can be a better man. I just know it.
Chapter Fourteen
Brent
Lindsay rushed out of the dining room in a hurry. Looking around the table at everyone laughing I can clearly see why. I have to admit I didn’t help the situation by snickering, but her face was the darkest red I had ever seen. Why did I do that? I thought I was over laughing at her. I have to make things right and apologize.
“Excuse me,” I say while getting up.
No one notices or cares when I leave. They are too busy making more jokes at Lindsay’s expense. Words such as “hillbilly” and “redneck” are being thrown around. It’s an ugly scene.
I go out into the foyer and check the main guest bathroom. She’s not in there. I look in the other bathrooms on the first floor and still no sign of her. I then make my way up the two staircases to the third floor. I look in the bedroom where we’ll be staying and still no sign of her. Maybe she’s with Grandpa.
Sure enough, when I approach his room, I hear the two of them in there talking. I stand just out of their view and look in, watching the scene before me.
Lindsay is so caring and considerate. Grandpa appears to be quite happy interacting with her. They are talking about both of their upbringings. How they have struggled. Now they are discussing me! I get a little deflated to find out Lindsay still thinks I am a bit snobbish. I really shouldn’t have laughed at her at dinner.
Grandpa starts coughing and Lindsay immediately rubs his back to help make him feel better. I take this as my cue to enter the room.
“Grandpa, are you okay?” I say.
Lindsay looks over at me and her eyes lock on mine. She is still clearly very upset with me.
“Brent, please come in,” Grandpa says while catching his breath. “I’ll be alright. Your lovely fiancée has been taking good care of me. She’s a keeper, you know that?”
“I am learning that more and more each day,” I say.
I pour a glass of water from the pitcher nearby and walk it over to him.
Grandpa takes the cup. “If I have any more water, I’m going to float out of the room,” he says with a laugh.
“Are you going to be okay, Grandpa Morgan?” Lindsay asks as she tries to help him arrange his pillows.
“Yes, thank you,” he answers. “Now please, you two go. Enjoy your evening. I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep now.”
I wish there was more that I could do. I feel helpless seeing my grandfather this way. This is the same man who I played catch with out in the field. I saw him more than my own father sometimes while I was growing up. Now he needs rest just to get through the day. Poor Grandpa.
“We’ll leave you be,” I say with a nod.
Lindsay and I quietly exit. I wait until we’re out in the hallway away from Grandpa’s earshot before I start talking. I know it is going to be an uphill battle, but I have to make things right with her.
“I’m so sorry about what happened downstairs,” I say. “I got caught up in the laughter. And you know how I react when your face starts to go red. It just looks so funny. It shouldn’t have that effect on me, but it does. I was an absolute idiot. Can you please forgive me?”
“You really left me hanging out to dry! I felt like such a fool,” she says while pointing her finger at me. “You’re supposed to be act…You’re supposed to be my fiancé! You’re supposed to be there for me!”
She almost blurted out the word “acting”. We can’t tip anyone off to our secret. What if Grandpa had heard that? All these emotions need to be dealt with and fast. But before I can respond Lindsay takes off down the corridor running at full speed.
I chase after her, but it doesn’t appear like she knows where she is going. She’s just overwhelmed with emotion and trying to get away from me... from everything.
She turns a corner and bursts through two double doors. I race to stop her from locking me out. She tries to shut the doors in my face, but I manage to stick my foot out to stop them. Lindsay backs up onto a balcony overlooking the ocean in the distance. I slowly step forward and lightly close the doors behind me.
It is rather chilly outside, but she is not going anywhere at the moment. This is where she stands her ground. Such a ball of fire for a little thing. But her shoulders are shaking, and I can see tears rolling down her face.
“Just leave me alone!” she yells at me.
“Lindsay, I truly am sorry,” I say pleadingly. “I made a mistake. Come back inside. It’s freezing out here.”
The moon is up and perched over us. It highlights the fresh snowfall.
“I would rather die than come back inside,” she says definitely. Her hands are balled into fists at her sides.
“Well, that could happen rather quickly out here without a coat. You don’t want frostbite, do you?” I say trying to lighten the mood.
I step forward, unsure of what to do. I don’t like seeing her upset, and I certainly don’t want her to be cold out here. So, I try to wrap my arms around her, but she pushes me away.
“Get off of me!” she screams.
“Lindsay, this is a big house, but someone will hear you,” I warn her.
“I don’t care about your big fancy mansion and your mean family,” she says. “I just want to go home.”
“Lindsay, it’s cold outside and it’s nighttime, just please come back inside and we’ll sort this out.”
“Why did you ask me to do this if you think I’m so ugly?” she asks.
I’m startled by the question. “I don’t think you’re ugly,” I state plainly. “I think you’re absolu
tely beautiful. You just do funny things sometimes. And when your face gets red… well, it makes me laugh. I hope it always does. It’s not a bad thing. In fact, it’s one of the things I like about you most.”
Her face twists slightly as she thinks about what I said.
“You like me?” she echoes my words. A slight smile plays on her lips.
I put my arm around her and pull her in close. I wipe the tears from her face and kiss her on the forehead.
“I do like you,” I admit.
With the moon, the ocean, and the snow, everything seems so crisp and clean out here. I am glad that Lindsay and I are finally clearing the air. I think about how kind she is with my grandfather. I really like that about her. How she can be so selfless. She really is wonderful, and I need to treat her better.
I lean down and kiss her. She is shivering. I hold her tight to warm her up and kiss her more. Things start to heat up in a different way. She kisses me back now, relenting, accepting that things will be okay between us, at least for tonight. Our making out becomes more passionate and intense.
“It’s cold out here,” I say, pulling back for just a moment. “Let’s go back to our room.”
She nods in agreement. I take her by the hand and lead her back inside. I close the double doors behind us and then guide her to our room.
Inside there is a king bed with a solid oak headboard. I turn all the lights off and open the curtains to let the full glow of the moon in. The reflection off of the snow amplifies the brightness. We are bathed in it and it creates a romantic setting for us to connect in.
I pull the straps of her dress and slide them down along her shoulder. Goosebumps rise on her skin. She quivers for a moment and as her dress falls to the floor. Her bra and panties are pink and lacey. She is so feminine. So pretty.
The last time we fucked I kept my clothes on and left her naked at the start. She seemed to like the control I was showing. She enjoyed being guided by me. I will get in the buff straight away this time and let her leave her undergarments on. I like to keep her guessing.
