by Cherry Kay
“That their son is a red blooded male.”
“No, Christopher.” she pushed him away and stood up. She sat on the radiator under the window facing onto the oak. “Speaking of red blooded males. What's this I hear about you screwing your way around the women of New York?”
“I what? Is that what my mother said?”
“Your dad told me. Yeah, he seemed pretty proud of your efforts.”
“He shouldn't have said that.”
“So, am I just another one of your conquests? Did you get through all the white girls? The Hispanics? Is it time for the African Americans now?”
“Don't be ridiculous, Lorelle. You know I liked you from the time we met. There was no agenda. I was attracted to you. We're still together aren't we?”
“So I passed the test?”
“What are you talking about, what's wrong with you?” Christopher was raising his voice now. “Why do you want to keep picking a fight with me every two seconds? This is a holiday.”
“Yes it's your holiday. Your family holiday and I shouldn't even be here.”
“And what's that supposed to mean? Weren't you the one who begged me to let you come?”
“Let me come? That's rich. How dare you?”
“Well how dare you accuse me of, well I don't even know what I'm being accused of. I don't even know why you're shouting at me.”
“Because you're shouting at me!”
The bedroom door opened and Judith stepped in.
“I'm sorry. I did knock but you didn't hear me.”
“Sorry, Mother, what is it?” Christopher's cheeks were burning red.
“I was just coming to ask Lorelle if she wanted to join me in the kitchen.” She gave Lorelle a broad smile, all teeth, and in Lorelle's opinion, little sincerity.
“You never have anyone in the kitchen, Mother.”
“Well, I don't know Lorelle very well, I don't know what she eats so I thought I'd show her the choices before I got lunch under way.”
“Oh, Judith, I'm not fussy. Anything will do for me.”
“Still, I'd like to show you around the place so, you know, you can feel at home.”
Lorelle looked at Christopher. His expression was saying, how dare you, this is a privilege to be invited into Mother's precious domain. She read the signals loud and clear. She was in socked feet and padded over to Judith.
“I'll get some shoes on and be straight down,” she said.
“Splendid.” Judith left the room and the door ajar.
Lorelle looked around for her case to find some indoor shoes, all the time she was still fuming. What had she gotten herself into and what had gotten into Christopher? Why were they arguing? This wasn't right.
Downstairs the look on Judith's face told a story. This was just what Judith wanted. Lorelle was playing into her hands by turning everything Christopher said to her into a fight.
“Settling in okay?” Judith grinned.
“Just fine, Judith.”
“Well that's just good. Look, I would have fried up a batch of chicken pieces if I'd known Christopher had you in tow, but as it is, you'll have to settle for a chicken salad. Or perhaps a salad Nicoise?”
“I can't eat olives, they upset my stomach.”
“Oh what a pity. So no Nicoise, just a regular chicken salad.”
“Yes Judith, can I help you at all?”
“No, you just make yourself at home. Go wander around. You'll find some more art pieces in the study, the dining room and along the hall.” She pointed a finger in the direction of these rooms.
“You sure I can't help you at all then, Judith?”
“No, that will be all.”
Lorelle slowly left the kitchen, seeing that smug expression on Judith's face once more, and shuddered as she walked along the hallway, looking up at the artwork and taking it all in. The best display was in the study. She sat on a large red armchair and looked up at a modern sculpture. It stood out among all the classics and for a while, Lorelle was lost in a daydream, conjuring up the images of works by the old masters. Eventually she began to feel calm.
Back in the kitchen, Christopher popped his head around the door. Lorelle made her way to the dining room which was just off the kitchen where she heard Christopher's voice.
“Only me, just came to see how you two were getting on,” he said to his mother, then looked all around to find that Lorelle was nowhere to be seen. “You on your own, where's Lorelle?”
“I have no idea, she just took off when I asked if she could wash the lettuce.”
“Strange. Should I go look for her?”
“I'm sure she'll be back when she feels like it. Um, Christopher, I don't like to say, but she seems to be a tad hot blooded don't you think?”
“Hot blooded? Oh no, upstairs we just had a bit of a misunderstanding.”
“I see. Well she nearly bit my head off when I told her lunch was a chicken salad. Said something about her people pulling out all the stops when they had company and would have fried some chicken or something.”
“Well maybe her folks do that but I didn't think Lorelle even likes fried chicken.”
“You never know how people will be once they're out of their own environment. But not to worry, I'll go lay the table in the dining room. You keep your father company until I call you. Won't be too long now.”
Judith walked towards the dining room door. It opened slowly and Lorelle stood behind it, slowly clapping her hands.
“Oh you're good,” Lorelle said.
Judith smirked and barged past her with the cutlery and began to lay the table.
“I see what you're doing, Judith but it isn't going to work.”
“What are you talking about?” She returned to the kitchen and grabbed some plates and went about setting a table fit for a king while Lorelle followed her to and fro,
“This is all some elaborate plan of yours to turn Christopher off me the way you were turned off me the minute you saw my black face. You think I'm not good enough for your son. You think if you push all the right buttons you can finish us. Well, you're wrong Judith. You might have Christopher fooled but I'm not.”
“Lorelle, I haven't the faintest idea what has gotten into you. I know you probably thrive on all that lively dialogue, hands waving around, voices raised, big wide eyes, but this is a respectable home and I won't abide it. Do you hear me?” She stood inches from Lorelle and hissed in her face. “He won't stay with you, he was made for better things and I won't have it any other way.”
Lorelle leaned in closer still.
“Whatever he decides to do is up to him but I won't stand for any interference from you.”
“Don't think you're a match for me, young lady. Any game you want to play, remember – I wrote the rules.”
“Well, let's play.”
The door to the dining room opened from the hallway.
“There you are, Lorelle,” Christopher smiled. “What's this? You two playing a game?”
“Something like that.” Lorelle answered and took the wine glasses from Judith's hands and placed them on the table.
“Christopher, go and call your father,” Judith said in a soft voice. “It's time to eat.”
He left the room and did not feel the invisible mist of ice that circled it. It whipped its way around the women, the crockery on the table, the legs of the antique dining table, and melted as quickly as it had arrived the minute the men arrived for lunch.
5
“Aren't you cold, Lorelle? Come back to bed, it's freezing.”
The first night spent at Christopher's parents had passed. Lorelle had found no reason to retaliate to Judith's blatant attacks on her reputation since lunch on the first day. Judith's attempts to cause a rift between Lorelle and her son had gone completely unnoticed by Christopher. He was thick skinned when it came to his mother and was carrying out his role as the dutiful son to a tee, oblivious to his mother's dislike and mistrust of his girlfriend. Lorelle had made a secret vow that
if she and Christopher made it another year then they would not, under any circumstances, be spending it with Judith.
Lorelle had slept reasonably well but only because she gave in to Philip's insistence that she try his exclusive brandy reserve. She sipped from the large glass as Judith did some needlepoint, constantly looking at Lorelle over the top of her glasses. Her expression was unfathomable but behind those eyes Lorelle could sense the plotting and sabotage playing out in her mind. All Judith needed was time and all Lorelle could do was hope that she didn't have anything too sinister up her sleeve. She could go into battle with Judith if it was necessary, but it would mean a complete turnaround of character if she was forced to play Judith at her own game.
The four of them had said their good-nights as pleasantly as any group of people meeting for the first time could possibly do, any onlookers would have thought this to be the perfect family, but Lorelle was worried.
She woke early, before daylight, and crossed to the window. Christopher was fast asleep and breathing heavily. She slid the curtains open quietly and stared out at the large oak just outside. It looked asleep, still in the unmoving air and just allowing patches of indigo sky to show through its bare branches. It was about five o'clock in the morning and Lorelle knew she would not get back to sleep. She looked over at Christopher. Her sketch pad was on the table and she was torn between the idea of drawing him as he slept or sketching the early morning view from the window.
It was hard to see anything outside and mostly it was her faint reflection that she saw. That's when she decided to open the window, to take in the textures of the old tree. The cold, as she stood staring out, was what woke Christopher.
“Sorry,” she said. “I'll close the window. I couldn't sleep.” She sank between the covers and wrapped her arms around Christopher's broad chest, he lay back and hugged her.
“It'll be light soon, we can go for a walk before breakfast if you like?” he whispered but she could already tell that he was drifting back off to sleep.
She fell in and out of a light sleep until, before she knew it, she was sinking into a slumber that lasted until nine o'clock. She woke to find Christopher already up and not in the room or the bathroom. She sat up, confused and groggy, but made her way to the shower to try to splash some life back into her body.
Downstairs the house seemed deserted. She called out for Christopher. “In here!” Judith called from the kitchen. Lorelle took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
Judith stood loading dishes into the dishwasher and glared across the room at Lorelle.
“Well, Sleepy Head, the men have gone on an errand for me.”
“Good morning, Judith. Will Christopher be back soon?”
“Possibly, help yourself to breakfast, I've got a few calls to make about our party on Christmas Day.”
“You're having a party?”
“It's a tradition, didn't Christopher tell you? We have a gathering of a few of our friends in the evening. It's a catered affair, not a fried chicken wing in sight.” She breezed by Lorelle who stood dumbstruck at the doorway.
A party! Christopher had said nothing about it. She had one nice dress but she was sure it wouldn't be suitable for the type of party she was sure Judith would be throwing and she could imagine the type of friends Judith would have. She tried to brush it off, there was still time to get something, there must be town nearby, perhaps Christopher could drive her.
She poured some coffee. She could hear Judith's voice booming from the study along the hall. She couldn't make out what she was saying but she returned with a large smile across her face and it certainly wasn't for Lorelle.
“Well, that's all sorted,” she said rubbing her hands and looking around.
“What's all sorted?” Lorelle eyed her suspiciously.
“Oh just confirming my guest list. One of them is coming over today to talk party arrangements.”
“Oh, you allow people to help you plan the party?” Lorelle leaned back in her chair and circled the rim of her coffee mug with her finger.
“Only those with taste.”
“So if you're busy with party planning, Christopher and I can go sightseeing.”
“If he has time.”
Judith looked over her shoulder when she heard the men arriving back to the house and unlocking the door.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Lorelle asked.
“You'll see.”
Judith left the kitchen with Lorelle fast behind her. Just knowing that Christopher was out of the house, leaving her alone with the mother from hell sent shivers up her spine. What if she turned out to be a crazed axe murderer who had a string of unsuitable girlfriends buried out back under that old oak tree. She made a mental note to look for signs of mounds of earth in the garden that were at least five feet six inches in length – her height to be exact.
“Ah, there you are, boys.” Judith was at the front door holding up her hands.
“You know, Judith, I don't know why we can't just grow our own mistletoe,” Philip said. “You see, Lorelle, Judith has us go half way up a mountain to get hold of a branch of this little beauty.”
He held up a small branch of freshly picked mistletoe.
“Well, I thought you men enjoyed running errands for me,” Judith looked from one to the other, neither spoke. “Well, who's going to put it up above the door?”
“I'll do it, Mother. I'll just get the ladder but first...”
Christopher grabbed the branch from his father and held it with one hand over Lorelle. Judith froze.
“Now, let's see if we can have the first kiss under the mistletoe.”
He wrapped one arm around Lorelle's slender waist and pulled her close. He bent to kiss her.
“I'll leave you to it, son.” Philip raised both hands and edged his way past the couple and headed for the study.
Judith, on the other hand, stayed rooted to the spot, eyes widening beyond comfort and teeth clenching together. Still kissing, Lorelle opened her eyes and watched the patch of red on Judith's neck rise to her forehead. Lorelle winked at her and closed her eyes. Judith bumped into Christopher as she tried to get away from them.
“Yes,” she said. “I'll leave you both to it.”
She slammed the living room door, prompting Christopher to finally come up for air.
“I think we've frightened your folks away. That was a bit rude of us.”
“They're grownups. How are you this morning?”
“Fine, but I'd like to get out of here for the day. Buy me breakfast?”
“You got it. Give me five minutes to put this up and we'll go out.”
“Good, I'll go up and get my camera.”
Lorelle spent a whole day out with Christopher. He took her to his old haunts. Not too far from his parents' home was a stone plateau that was covered with icy snow.
“And here, ” he told her, “was where I first made out with Amanda Lewison.”
“You freak, Christopher, it's so exposed here, not to mention dangerous.”
“Well, I was reckless back then and I found out later that Amanda Lewison had no moral compass whatsoever. It was summer and that tree was a lot fuller, it flowers too, not sure what it’s called.
Lorelle snapped a picture of it, and then another.
“So what happened with Amanda Lewison?” she asked, looking through the lens and casting a quick look at Christopher.
“Oh, she moved on to some older guy but she introduced me to her friend.”
“Joanna?”
“Ah yes, Dad told you.”
“I really don't mind that you had a deep and meaningful romance when you were younger. You'd be pretty boring if you didn't have a history.”
“It's great that you're not the jealous kind, Lorelle. I really like that about you.”
He stared at her for a long while.
“What is it?” she said.
“Oh nothing. I just haven't seen you this relaxed and at ease since we got here. It's not as b
ad as all that, is it?”
“As long as we can stay out all day. Your mother is better in small doses.”
“I hear that. Come on. I'll show you where I nearly died.”
They were cold and tired when they got back to the house. They had lunch in a quaint little restaurant, it had guest rooms above and it occurred to Lorelle that they could both check in there and just turn up for Christmas dinner, leaving quickly after this party Judith had planned. But she kept the thought to herself. It had been a wonderful and rather romantic day she'd spent with Christopher and she didn't want to spoil the atmosphere. Surely, she could survive tomorrow too – Christmas Eve. Christmas Day was likely to go by quickly and Judith would be busy.
When they pulled up to the house they were laughing and holding hands. The pine tree in the living room window was lit. It took up the size of the large window and Lorelle couldn't help admitting that if she and Christopher were married with kids, this would be the ideal place to spend Christmas with them. It gave her a warm feeling, already she was thinking about a future with him but she would wait until they were back in the city before she dared to reveal her growing feelings.
Christopher rang the doorbell, his arm around Lorelle's shoulder. Philip answered the door.
“Come in, come in. Did you have a good day?”
“It was wonderful,” Lorelle said. “I took lots of photos and-”
