Someone, somewhere, was having a harder time than me. I could overcome this. I could make this work. I would not feel sorry for myself. Tonight, I may cry just a little. Then I’d be tough.
PORTIA WAS SITTING IN THE great room when I got home after eight o’clock. She looked at me with the same expression she’d had earlier. She hadn’t expected any of this when she’d been looking forward to Jasper’s visit. I wondered if she wished he’d never come. I imagine that was what she thought about most of the time now.
“What will you do?” she asked me when I entered the room. She didn’t look at me. She kept her gaze fixed on her manicured nails.
“I’m going to work nights. I got a job working at a club. That still won’t cover the place she’s at, but I am going to talk to them about a cheaper room or possible payments.”
“She can share a room for four thousand a month,” Portia said lifting her head to look at me. “But that is still a lot. More than you can manage. How long do you think you can work two jobs? What happens when he has late parties and you have to work?”
I hadn’t thought of that. It would be a problem. I wasn’t sure how I could manage this. “Are we keeping Heidi a secret from him on purpose?” I asked. “Not that he should feel obligated to help me pay for her care, but maybe he would understand my need for a second job?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know with him. His father was a cold man. He had no heart. No emotion. Often, he was cruel. I married him young and fresh off the farm. So sure I’d live this fairy-tale life I’d always wanted. The one I thought I should have been born into. I saw glittery things, luxury, and I wanted it all. But with it came a price. He changed me. I changed,” she looked away from me.
Her gaze was now focused on the portrait that hung over the mantel. It was Jasper. A much younger Jasper. “He’s so much like his father. He can be charming, but he’s cold. I can’t trust his actions. I’ve helped you all I can, and feel that I did my duty. You’re not mine to worry over. Your mother knew that and she sent you here anyway. It’s up to you now, so figure it out. This is your life. I have my own to deal with.”
I stood there not sure what to say. There was nothing to say after that really.
There was only one question I didn’t know the answer to. “Why did you help us to begin with then?”
She stood up. The linen pants she was wearing were now wrinkled from her sitting there for too long. She still managed to look elegant. “Because. I owed your mother for something that happened long ago. I’ve done my duty. If there is a God and he does care about our souls, I think he’ll agree I fulfilled what was expected of me.”
I can’t say any of what she said made sense. I wanted more of an explanation. “But what did you owe my mother?”
Portia sighed as if she’d been wearied by my presence. “Nothing. Not really. She made a choice that led to where you are today. That’s not my problem to fix. But she is gone now. I did a kind act for the dead. Nothing more.”
She left the room before I could say more. A kind act for the dead? That was all this was? There had been moments when Portia seemed to care. That she worried about Heidi and me. But now I wondered if I had imagined those moments. That I’d made them up in my head. Wishful thinking.
I left the room the way I had entered. This wasn’t my home. It never had been. Portia wasn’t family. My sister was my only family now. Allowing myself to think there was a chance Portia cared for us had been a mistake. It made me vulnerable. I couldn’t be vulnerable. I had to be strong. Tough. Figure this out. Because Portia was right about one thing: it was my problem. Not hers, and definitely not Jasper’s. Telling him my situation would be asking for help, and I wasn’t doing that.
The doors that led to the veranda opened. I stopped and turned around to see Jasper and Winston walking inside. Jasper was talking and stopped when he saw me.
“Hello. I hope you enjoyed your day off.” He sounded sincere.
“I did. Thank you.”
“We’re here to find food. Not much of a cook and I’m tired of eating easy things out there just to avoid my mother. Could you make us something to eat? Stone was going to, but you’re here and I imagine you could make something tastier than what he can throw together.”
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 make fettucine with alfredo sauce, right? You want that or you want her to make something else?”
Winston was Stone? How had I missed that?
“I’m good with whatever. Provided she can cook,” he said not looking at me or acknowledging my presence. Once again, I felt like I’d been transported to the Victorian era and I was the servant around him.
Jasper chuckled. “Ignore him. He’s a bit of a dick. You just fix something. I’m so hungry I don’t care what it is. Just no grilled cheese. I’ve made myself sick of those.”
I nodded. “I’ll get right to it.”
“Do you know if my mother has gone up to her room?” Jasper called out as I walked away.
“Yes. I believe so.”
He let out a sigh of relief. “Good. Not in the mood to listen to her bitch.”
I didn’t reply, I just exited. I would talk to Jasper later about my second job. I was going to use my excuse for saving for college as the reason why. For now, Heidi would remain a secret. I didn’t want to appear to be asking for his help. That wasn’t the case. I just needed his understanding. Money for college sounded believable enough. Besides, only last week, that was what I had been planning to do. It wasn’t a complete lie. Not really.
I stood in the kitchen and looked at the pantry. I wanted to make something impressive after Mr. Snooty Pants made that comment about my cooking ability. I decided I’d go with what I knew from home—my favorite meal momma made. Homemade biscuits, bacon, sausage gravy and cheese grits. It was breakfast food, but on special occasions momma made it at night. We loved when she did. Homemade biscuits were always good. Smiling, I reached for the supplies I’d need and got to work.
The smell of the biscuits in the oven and the bacon frying filled the kitchen pretty quickly. I smiled to myself. I was sure there wasn’t a Southern boy alive who wouldn’t like this meal. I felt confident they’d both enjoy it, and Winston or Stone or whoever would have to eat his words. Jerk.
By the time I finished the cheese grits and was finishing the gravy, the door swung open and Jasper walked inside. “That smells fucking incredible. Are you making breakfast? I know I smell bacon.”
I didn’t let him see the grin that I was struggling to hide as it spread across my face. “Yep.”
“I love bacon,” he told me.
“Most people do,” I agreed.
He stood watching me, and I finished up without filling the silence with small talk. He was my boss. I didn’t figure he expected that from me.
“Look. About our talk earlier today, I didn’t mean to sound harsh if I did. I am just trying to fix the things my mother has handled poorly.”
I nodded. I didn’t need any more explanation. He had every right to question me being paid that much.
“I know today was your day off so thanks for this. I shouldn’t have asked you to cook. I’m sure you had something else you wanted to do.”