Chapter 5 #2
Tessa rolls her eyes. “Stop calling it a country; it’s an island.”
I get why Roman left her. She is dumb. I scratch my eyebrows to try to quell my frustrations.
“A country is a nation with its own government. We have that, so it’s both,” I reply.
Roman wipes the side of his mouth with a napkin. “Why are you all giving my fiancée the third degree?”
I put my hands on Roman’s thighs. He turns, and he looks irritated.
“It’s okay.” I smirk and whisper.
Ollie chuckles. “She is a big girl, Rom.”
Cliff looks at me and asks. “So what does your family do?
Damn it. Do I tell them the truth? Or make up a small tale about being a poor Caribbean girl living on the beach.
Tessa’s raised eyebrow makes my decision.
“My family is into rum, whiskey, and spirits,” I reply, exhaling and waiting for the truth to come.
Cliff tilts his head. “Spirits and rum?”
Tessa pouts. “Aww, you make rum and wine at home.”
I smile. “My name is Noelle Montredor. My family runs the third largest rum and whiskey brand in the Caribbean.”
Cliff hits the side of his plate. “House Montredor. I have some bottles of your rum in my study.”
“Let me guess, Montredor 1798 Reserve,” I reply.
Cliff laughs. “Yes, it’s a rich rum. I love it.”
I can feel Roman’s stare burrowing into the side of my face.
Chuckling, I bite my bagel.
“So you’re an heiress?” Tillie asks.
I nod. “Yup, I am the oldest. I have one brother in college.”
“Well done, Roman,” Cliff says, his voice full of approval. I know it’s not real, but being accepted tugs my heartstrings.
Elizabeth smiles. “Why are you not home for Christmas? I mean, we love having you.”
“My father and I have artistic differences regarding the company. So I stepped away for three years.” I haven’t been home for three years. A sadness must shroud my face because Elizabeth perks up.
“I have an idea,” she says.
“God forbid,” Roman mutters under his breath.
Elizabeth ignores Roman. “Why don’t we have an island Christmas?”
“You mean a Trini Christmas?” For some reason, this excites me.
“Yes, let’s do it. Make the food, maybe listen to the music?”
Tillie nods. “Create new traditions. I love it.”
Roman scowls. “My fiancée didn’t come here to cook and entertain you all.”
“God no, Roman. But we can make her feel at home.” Elizabeth looks at me earnestly.
Roman nudges my leg, summoning my attention. “You game?”
I look around the table. Everyone is holding their breath for my answer.
“You all have to help; it’s part of the fun,” I comment.
Ollie laughs out loud. “This is about to be chaos.”
“No, we are making my daughter-in-law feel like she is home away from home,” Elizabeth says. Do I feel like crying? Maybe, or maybe, I am just going through the luteal phase.
“You all are about to have the best Christmas you ever had,” I comment.
ROMAN
I chuckle to myself as Jarvis roams the perimeter of the kitchen. He is not accustomed to so many in his domain. Poor man had emergency groceries ordered to the house.
Now I am leaning on the kitchen counter, sipping on what Noelle called ponche crème.
It’s a Caribbean version of eggnog and Bailey’s.
It’s creamy and delicious. I don’t know how she did it, but I want ten bottles of this shit.
Music, laughter, people talking. I don’t think this house was ever so loud or warm.
“This fucking eggnog may be getting me drunk,” Liam says as he comes to stand beside me.
I nod in agreement. The sound of parang floats through the air. The smell of cooked meats and cakes…this house has never smelled so delicious.
My mother laughs. “What is she saying in the song?”
“She met a mister from Margarita, and he wanted to take her to dinner. But it’s Christmas time, so she took him to her home instead.” Noelle explains and supervises Tillie chopping olives.
Even Tessa is tapping her foot. “So she fed him, and then she…”
“Then he ate again.” Noelle laughs. “The Trinbagonian love language is food.”
Tillie tilts her head. “Aww, you love us?”
“Am I doing this right?” My mother asks.
I observe Noelle touching my mother and encouraging her to make bigger balls for what she called a “pastelle.”
My father comes and stands beside me. “So an heiress and a cook. Well done, Son.”
He clinks his crystal of ponche crème against mine.
Ollie, who is clearly tight, moves toward Tillie. He grabs her hand, and they both decide to dance a jig. I can’t help but chuckle, watching my cousin trying to catch the beat.
Noelle claps, her eyes full of mirth. She looks so happy and at home.
“Excuse me, gents.” I take a sip of my drink and place it on the counter.
Noelle’s eyes widen when she sees me. I place my hand in front of her. “May I have this dance, my lady?”
She places her soft palm against mine, and I pull her close to my body. Another song starts, and I laugh in her ear.
“What?” she asks.
I smirk down at her. “This is the song you played on the drive up here.”
“Right. Look at you now, moving in time,” Noelle replies, and she moves her waist in a one-two count.
I look up and realize everyone is dancing. My parents, Ollie and Tillie, and Liam and Tessa.
This feels like a family who like each other. My father teases Ollie about not having any rhythm, and Ollie begins to dance even worse.
Seeing my parents happy and my brother, a part of me feels pleased. All because of this woman that I am holding in my arms. I press my cheek against the top of her head.
“Thank you for this,” I mutter.
Noelle pulls back and stares up at me. “More like thank you. This is amazing.”
The song comes to an end, and then I hear…
“Chapter Eighteen. Axel. As I lean her over the counter, I kneel and lick her sweet, juicy—”
I see the panic in Noelle’s eyes. She jumps out of my arms and rushes past my parents to her phone.
“My God, Axel, fuck me.” With the Bose sound system, the audiobook is clear and crisp.
My parents watch me, and I look at Noelle trying to get her phone to stop. With shaking hands, she tries to stop the audiobook.
“You have the most delicious tasting, cun—” In blind panic Noelle hurls the phone on to the marble floor. There is a heavy crack and it goes quiet.
She looks up, pulling at her fingers. “I am so sorry; that was an audiobook.”
My mother chuckles. “Is that E.L. Howard?”
Noelle holds back a laugh and nods. “Yes. I am so sorry.”
My mother shakes her head. “Child, hush; it’s a good book. Plus, the men in this room can learn a lesson from Axel.”
I laugh. “No, I am good, thanks.”
“Listen to your mother, boy. I read it to her, and it was a—”
Liam sticks his fingers in his ears. “LALALA. We don’t need to know.”
With Tillie’s help, we get back the music. Noelle forgets our dance, and she sits with my mother and Tillie talking, and from the way they are giggling, it was about that book.
Music, drinks, food, and laughter…this was turning out to be a great Christmas.