Chapter Ten
Chapter
Ten
Beulah
Portia was sitting in the great room when I got home after eight. She looked at me with the same expression she’d had earlier today. Portia hadn’t expected any of this when looking forward to Jasper’s brief visit. I wondered if she wished he’d never come. I imagine that was what she thought about as she fretted in various rooms of the house, drinking and angry and worried.
“What will you do?” she asked. She didn’t look at me, her stare vainly fixed on her manicured nails and their color.
“I’m going to work nights. I got a job at a club. It won’t make up the four thousand more that Heidi needs, so I’ll have to talk to them about a cheaper room or possible payments or. . .”
“She can share a room for four thousand a month,” Portia interrupted, lifting her head to look at me. “But that’s still more than you can manage. How long do you think you can work two jobs? What happens when Jasper has late parties? Or needs something else in the evening?”
She could share a room. I could afford that with this extra job. But my brief moment of relief instantly faded from the other things she’d said. I hadn’t thought of Jasper’s late parties or if he needed me to do anything at night.
“Are we keeping Heidi a secret from him. . .I mean, ah, on purpose? Not that he should feel obligated to help me pay for her care. But maybe he would understand my need for a second job if I told him?”
She shrugged. “With him, I don’t know. His father was a cold man. No heart. No emotion. Often cruel. I married him young and fresh off the farm. And sure, I’ve lived this fairytale life I’ve always wanted from the start—the one I should’ve been born into. I saw glittery things, luxury, and, of course, had to have it all. But with that came a heavy price. He changed me. . .I changed,” she then looked away from me. Portia focused on the portrait hanging above the mantel. It was of Jasper. A much younger Jasper. “He’s like his father. Jasper can be charming. Yet, he’s cold and controlling, and I can’t trust his actions. I’ve helped you all I can. I feel I did my duty. You’re not mine to worry over. Your mother knew that, yet she sent you here to me. It’s all up to you now. Figure it out. This is your life. I have my own to worry with.”
I stood there, not sure what to say. Really, I had no response. Although, I did have a question. “Why did you help us to begin with?”
Portia came to her feet and exhaled. The linen pants she was wearing were wrinkled from where she’d sat too long. Still elegant, she responded with the truth. “Because Beulah, I owed your mother for something long ago. Now I’ve paid her back, done my duty, and if there’s a God who cares about our souls, then I think he will agree, I fulfilled my obligation.”
That didn’t make any sense. I wanted an explanation. “What did you owe my mother?”
Portia sighed as if weary from my presence. “Nothing, really, your mother made a choice that led to where you are today. That’s not my problem to fix. Now she’s gone. I did a kindness for the dead. There’s nothing else to say.”
She left the room before I could push for more. A kindness for the dead? That was all this was? There’d been moments when Portia seemed to care. To worry about me and Heidi. Now I wondered if I’d imagined those moments. Made them up in my head. Wishful thinking, I guess.
I left the room the way I had entered. This place wasn’t my home. It never had been. Portia wasn’t family. My only family was my sister. Allowing myself to think there was a chance that Portia cared for us and sincerely wanted to help had been a mistake from the beginning. That made me vulnerable, and I couldn’t be vulnerable. I had to be strong and work through what I was dealing with. Portia was right about one thing. This was absolutely my problem. Not hers and definitely not Jasper’s. Explaining this to him was asking for help, and I would never do that; some pride had to remain intact.
The veranda doors then opened. Jasper and Winston walked inside. Jasper was talking, but he stopped when he saw me. “Hello,” he said. “I hope you enjoyed your day off.” He sounded sincere and interested.
“I did. Thank you very much.”
“We’re coming to find food. I’m not much of a cook, and I’m growing weary of eating easy things just to avoid my mother. Could you fix us something? Stone was going to do it, but if you’re here, I imagine you’d make something more edible than he would.”
Stone? Who was Stone?
“Uh, sure. Any requests? Or do you want me to just make something?”
Jasper looked at Winston. “You were going to do fettucine? You want that or something else?”
Winston was Stone? How’d I miss that?
“I’m good with whatever, provided she can cook,” he responded, not looking at me or even acknowledging my presence.
Jasper chuckled. “Ignore him. He’s a bit of a dick. You fix whatever you want. I’m so hungry I don’t care what it is. Just no grilled cheese, I’m sick of those.”
“Alright,” I replied.
“Do you know if my mother has gone up to her room?” Jasper asked as I walked away.
“Yes, I believe she has.”
He sighed, “Good, not in the mood to hear her bitch.”
I didn’t reply as I left the room. I would talk to Jasper later about my second job. I was going to use the excuse that I was saving for college. For now, Heidi would remain a secret. I didn’t want to appear as if I was asking for his help. That wasn’t the case. I needed his understanding, and money for college sounded believable. What I’d been planning on doing anyway. It wasn’t a complete lie. And Portia had made it seem as if telling Jasper about Heidi was a bad idea. Like she wouldn’t suggest it.
I looked at the pantry in the kitchen. I wanted to make something impressive after Mr. Snooty Pants commented about my cooking. I decided I’d go with something from home. My favorite meal momma made was homemade biscuits with gravy and bacon, salty cheese, and grits on the side. It was breakfast, but momma made it at night on special occasions. We loved it when she did. Homemade biscuits were always good. Smiling, I reached for the supplies and instantly got to work.
The smell of the biscuits and the bacon frying quickly filled the kitchen. Grinning, I proceeded. I was sure there wasn’t a southern boy alive who didn’t like this meal. I was confident they’d both enjoy it. Winston, Stone, or whoever he was would have to eat his words.
By the time I had the cheese grits finished and was done stirring the gravy, the kitchen door swung open, and Jasper came inside. “That smells fucking incredible. Are you doing breakfast? I know I smell bacon.”
I didn’t let him see the smile struggling to spread across my face. “Yep.”
“I love bacon,” he told me.
“Most people do,” I agreed.
He stood watching as I finished without small talk. I didn’t figure he expected that from me, being my boss and all.
“Look, about our talk earlier today, I didn’t mean to sound harsh if I did. I’m trying to adjust the things my mother has handled poorly.”
I nodded, didn’t need any more explanation, Jasper having every right to question what his mother paid me.
“I know today was your day off, so thanks for doing this. I shouldn’t have asked you to cook. I’m sure you had something else you wanted to do.”
I took down two plates from the cabinet. “I was going to do laundry and read. Do you want me to serve y’all, or make your own plates and eat in here by yourselves? Wasn’t sure if this was a casual thing. Either way is fine with me.”
Jasper grabbed the plates from my hand. “We can fix our plates and eat in here. We can even use paper towels instead of the monogrammed napkins Portia has us use.”
Stone then walked in. “Is that bacon?”
I grinned, unable to help myself.
“She made us breakfast,” Jasper replied.
Stone-Winston-Ass didn’t look pleased, nor was he disappointed, appearing neutral, as he always did. No emotion. Darkly closed off. I knew he could smile. I’d seen it that once. Whenever I was around, he didn’t smile, and though I wasn’t sure why he disliked me unless he didn’t like hired help, I knew he was here for a reason, whether work or fun, or personal.
“If you’re good, I’ll leave y’all to it,” I told Jasper with my hands on my hips.
“Yeah, it’s great, enjoy your evening.”
I gave Jasper a parting smile then left. I didn’t look at Winston. There was no point because I didn’t exist, not to him anyway.