I'd completely pulled my old blankets and sheets and replaced them
with silk and mink I'd conveniently packed. I refused to put my
clothesany were near the old dusty drawers. Besides, that'll only seem
like I wanted to be here. I didn't.
Aretha Heins called dinner, so I washed up and changed out of my long
blazer jacket. I didn't want to ruin it, so Ishrugged on a silk teal
blouse. It hung just above my thighs, so I left my tights on.
"Willow, we're waiting for you!" she called up the stairs again.
I scowled in the mirror. Still the same. No one eats unless everyone
is seated at the table. Seriously, these people practically lived in
the stone ages.
"Coming!" I yelled back and stole one last glance in the mirror and
rushed down the stairs.
I paused when I saw the table was full with guestsI couldn't recall
even being introduced to. I automatically felt out of place. Not just
the clothesand everything, but conversations were being thrown all
over thetable and I was afraid that I'll have no interests in it
whatsoever.
Empty plates, and full glasses of wine sat in front of them, but I
felt slightly uncomfortable to be here...until I spotted Grams. I
loosened up a bit. She smiled and nodded for me to take a seat.
"Come sit over here Willow," Aretha called, as her hand waved
frantically to the chair between her and Satchel.
Blinking, I noticed Satchel's cowboy hat hadbeen removed, astonished
to see what a man he'd really turned into. His face was out in full
view, displaying wisdom, and maturity.
I sagged my shoulders, feeling bad that for how I treated him in the
last couple of hours.
It wasn't his fault I was here, and it wasn't his fault that I was in
a bad mood because I had to be here. But seeing him, brought so many
memories back, it felt likeI was a little five year old girl all over
again.
He'd obviously found some soap in the last hour, because he cleanedup
nice as I noticed his hair was gelled back, anda clean shirt clung to
his skin.
His piercing gaze was something I remember: Light green eyes that
caught the light brilliantly. He'd always had that youthful face, but
his body was something else.
He'd grown up so much.
"You gonna stand there and stare, or sit down? I'm starving here,"
Satchel murmured, breaking me out of my thoughts.
Noticing I must've lookedlike a weirdo staring at him for so long. I
caught myself blushing and stumbled to find my seat. I watched as
Satchel's elbows dug onto the table and his hands clenched together in
a praying gesture, and frowned.
I was about to ask him what he was doing, and then Aretha started
chanting a verse. Right, she was saying grace, how could I forget?
I followed in suit, and voiced a quick, "Amen" and picked up my fork to eat.
I didn't want to be rude, but all I saw on the table was a fist load
of carbs, fat, and more carbs. I watched everyone dig in,chewing on my
lips thoughtfully.
"Potato and gravy?" Aretha offered.
I shook my head. "No thanks, I don't—" I stopped talking when Satchel
leaned in to whisper in my ear and my heart flipped a 180 as he did
so.
I eyed him warily as he invaded my personal space, giving me a whiff
of his natural scent.
"I don't remember you turning down food? You used to devour mash like
ice-cream." He had a half smile on his face, as cocked an eyebrow up
ininterest.
He was right, I'd been a food lover. There wasn't one thing I didn't
like eating. Except peas, I despised peas. But growing up in New
York?And a school reputation? Well, there was only so much you could
eat to stay thin, and good looking. Carbs was on theno-no list.
I noticed he had a faint smell of aftershave on too, I was fighting
off theurge to inhale it, when he went back to digging in. He took the
bowl fromhis mother and scooped three or four loads on hisplate.
"You're really gonna eat all that?" I asked, surprised hitting my
voice. He scoffed like I'd said something stupid.
He raised an eyebrow as he reached for another bowl, and
shrugged."Unless, you want some?"He asked, shoving the meat bowl
toward me.
I shook my head and wrinkled my nose. I wasn't a big fan of red meat,
though I'd eat it if Ihad to.
He shrugged and grabbed the bowl of meat, slapping piles of it on his
plate. He didn't stop until his plate had it's own summit.
I watched in awe as Satchel made use with a knife and fork, making a
clean tidy work with the food, as if savoring it. I marveled at his
table manners, and his polite conversation starters.
His attention divided, always complimenting something or someone. He
wiped his mouth with a napkin and froze. I'd just been caught staring.
He scowled, throwing his napkin back on the table."You know you gotta
cut that out." He said a little annoyed. I cleared my throat.
"Cut what out?"
He glared. "The staring, you know it's rude to stare."
I bit my lips, slightly embarrassed at my rudimentary manners."Sorry,
just...whatever."
I went back to my almost empty plate because I was sure he was going
tomake me say things I didn't want my grandmother overhearing how foul
mymouth could get, and decided to ignore him altogether.
I'd managed to find someveggies, and a spoon full of meat. So, I
picked at it trying to avoid his eyes.
I looked up when someone addressed me with a question. It was a little
girl about seven years old sitting on the other side of him. She had
reddish brown hair, and light green eyes. She smiled trying to see
past Satchel.
"Are you Satchel's girlfriend?" The way she said "girlfriend"
soundedlike she was singing it.
I almost choked on my veggies. I'm sure I hadn't blushed this much in
less than twenty four hours.
"Shut up Derryn!" Satchelmuttered, his eyes giving her a 'warning'
look. I shook my head.
"Ah...no, just a..." I was struggling for a word. She giggled.
"That's not what Satchel said. He-" By this time, Satchel had covered
her mouth and whispered in her ear. She had a whining look on her
face, and went back to eating.
"Who's she?" I asked finally.
"Derryn, my little sister," said Satchel, as he chewed on a mouthful.
I struggled to recall if Satchel had a sister. He didn't as far as I
remembered. As if reading my mind, he answered.
"You were gone by the time she found out she was pregnant," he added.
I nodded absent mindedly. I wanted to ask him how his mother ended up
in a wheel chair, but I couldn't find the words. He'd already finished
his meal and wiped a napkin over his mouth.
He muttered a quick 'excuse me' and left the table.
I looked around the tableand all the adults were deep in conversation.
So I decided to follow him.
--
- - - - -
And Allah Knows the Best!
- - - - -
Published by :->
M NajimudeeN Bsc- INDIA
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
No comments:
Post a Comment