The Birth (The Black Wing Book 1) (10 page)

“Ms. Clarisse has done so much for me. But the idea of facing her own children—I think I will lose it.”

Mr. Müller chuckled and said Ms. Clarisse knew I would eventually meet her children. If she knew, then, why didn’t she prepare me for it?

“A driver will be here a week after her funeral services.” he said.

“I can’t go to her funeral?” I asked.

Mr. Müller shook his head with a frown

“She specifically detailed her will, estate planning, and trusts. As for her funeral services, she just asked to be buried with her husband. Her family informed me that they will be having a private burial.”

“That they won’t be attending” I concluded.

“Be on your best behavior. Ms. Clarisse wouldn’t want you to stress out your baby. Don’t forget, a driver will pick you up within a week and take you to the family estate.”

Before Mr. Müller left, he paused for a moment.

“I was told you were evicted from her room during her last moments.” he began. “The health facility was unfair, Ms. Clarisse really wanted to see you. Again, she was very fond you.”

When Mr. Müller left, I got ready and went to work. Because of my pregnancy I’m stuck doing paper work in the office. Ms. Clarisse’s absence made my job at Gilia back to the unbearable state it is. I’m no longer allowed to have any contact with any residents. After her death, I was demoted back to my position as a server. The staff and residents were relieved I was able to ‘tame’ Ms. Clarisse, but they complained about my rumored inheritance, and threatened Mr. Bradley for favoritism. I didn’t take their accusation personally, soon, I will no longer represent this company.

After a week melted off my shoulders, I spent my night in bed, hoping the sun wouldn’t rise. The passing days made me anxious, in just a short few days, I will personally meet Troy, Ana, and Ben.

T
he morning arrived and I left the hotel. At the exit, a black vehicle lingered on the drop-off zone. I walked to the opposite end and waited. The limo slowly backed towards me. A chauffeur got out and came around to open the back door for me. I kept frozen when his arms gestured an invitation to the back seat. The chauffeur smiled.

“Miss Lola I presume? My name is Benjamin, I’m here to escort you to the Mable Mansion—miss?”

“I still don’t know if I want to go.” I hesitated “I was just going to tell you that I might not go.”

“Mr. Müller said you’d be uncertain about attending. Now I’m no one to force you, but please remember who you’re doing this for. This was Ms. Clarisse’s wish.”

Ms. Clarisse, even in death she’s getting her way. I gripped my fists and entered the vehicle, the dark leather molded my weight and figure. The limo has a distinct scent of polished chemicals. When the chauffeur drove off, I watched my truck grow distant from the parking lot.

“Do you like music? Should I put anything you like?” Benjamin added.

He’s an old fellow, aged well in time, his gray hair fell over his dark skin. He looked at the back mirror to see me and I looked away. A migraine started to pulse on the left side of my temple, my palms started to heat up, anger, and excitement flustered in my chest.

“Excuse my rudeness, but I know what you’re thinking. You don’t want to see those kids of hers, don’t you?”

I didn’t reply.

“I was their family driver—yes I mean that as past tense. I’m apparently too old for them, they fired me as soon as Ms. Clarisse was sent to live in Gilia.”

“You know Ms. Clarisse?” I asked.

“Know? I was her favorite driver! We went everywhere together. That lady is one of a kind. The last time I saw her, she got that manager to let her go to Hawaii and of course—she dragged me along to be her chauffeur!”

I smiled at him, I recognize him from the first time I passed Ms. Clarisse at the lobby. Benjamin was there, escorting her.

Almost half an hour into the road and Benjamin began humming a low tune to himself. I didn’t want any music played, so he decided to make some himself.

“Do you think it was okay?” I said.

“What was okay Miss?” questioned Benjamin.

“What they did to Ms. Clarisse.”

Benjamin continued driving but his humming stopped. After gathering his thoughts, he finally exhaled and apologized for his delay.

“As much as it’s none of ‘my’ business…they are mighty…unfair.”

“I’m sorry you got fired.” I added.

“When Ms. Clarisse went to live in Gilia, they fired a lot of us old folk. When she found out, she referred everyone to other areas, and made Mr. Müller hire me!”

Benjamin cackled, his powerful voice began to subside the anger I gathered within.

“I think she wanted to keep me close.”

Benjamin doesn’t look near upset about Ms. Clarisse’s death, or at least he doesn’t express it. He’s not the slight agitated about returning to the people who fired him. I have to be like him, and put my own feelings aside—no matter what happens at the presentation of her will. Acting on my thoughts and fueling my anger towards Ms. Clarisse’s children will only disrespect her, I can’t do that to a woman who has been nothing but loving to me.

While most of the richest Californian homes reside in the hills, most branched out and built their homes outside of the city. We went through the community in the hills that has its own security. We passed an almost secret road where neighbors grew miles apart from each other. The city grew distant as we passed acres of land, each displaying extravagant peeking houses over the walls that surrounded them.

We are half an hour on the road, growing near the coast until Benjamin announced our arrival. Beyond the congested cypress trees, is a pearl mansion flickering through the metal gates that protect it. A single driveway stretched through a row of fenced pine trees, trimmed and perfectly aligned.

“This was her home.” I said to myself. “I remember this place from her photo albums.”

“Born and raised.” said Benjamin. “When she got married, this is where they started their family. Ms. Clarisse loved her home, but after Mr. Mable’s death, she demolished her view of this place. She couldn’t enjoy it like she used to.”

The decorated steel gate opened by two nearby workers dressed in full clothed uniforms. My mouth dropped from the sight of this aristocratic mansion. As Benjamin drove ahead, the corners grew wider, expanding the roman style pillars that guard the wide maroon door. Statues of the face of white lions hovered over each window. The elevated grey roof overlapped with what appears to be attic windows. This mansion is as intimidating as a castle.

“It’s as old as you think it is.” said Benjamin. “This mansion has been through the worst earthquakes and fires. Nonetheless, the Mable family has torn and reconstructed the same style countless of times. What you are seeing is a replica of history. The Mable family is more than old money. Ancient is appropriate word for it.”

That is clearly something Ms. Clarisse never mentioned to me. Why would she anyway, I wouldn’t be able to understand her. When we reached the front of the mansion, I noticed a limousine.

My marvel of this mansion has become short lived, reality has kicked in, and the chest pains returned. The idea of seeing Ms. Clarisse’s family gave me heartburn.

“Are they here?” I asked.

“That vehicle belongs to a group of lawyers.” replied Benjamin. “They all had a cold stare in their faces. They must be Troy’s representatives.”

Benjamin instructed me to wait for him to open the door. I thanked God for the custom and gave myself the few seconds to feel invisible. When he opened the door, he offered his hand and helped me out of the comfort of the leather seats.

“You’re not alone.” Benjamin assured. “Mr. Müller is inside, don’t worry your little head about their personalities. They deserve to get their share, they waited this long for it. Perhaps they will…choke on it.”

Benjamin cracked a wide pearly smile. His soul is wiser than mine, I will need to take the next steps alone. I thanked him for the ride and watched him drive off.

A maid welcomed me at the foot of the entrance. As soon as we went inside, she rushed me through one of the halls. My eyes tried to capture as much as I could of Ms. Clarisse’s home. The hall has a light aroma of flowers. The walls are filled with frames of what appears to be family members. I tried to imagine Ms. Clarisse running through these halls as a little girl, as a woman, her first date with Mr. Mable, and her last steps—on her way to Gilia. My imagination brought chills through my spine. I folded my arms to loosen the rough goosebumps on my skin.

The walk feels endless, and I can no longer keep track at how many colossal doors we passed. I tried to imagine what was behind every door, but the maid’s fast feet have no mercy on me. When she stopped to let me catch up, her eyes glanced at my attire as a Gilia employee, and my swollen belly. She forced an awkward smile, and continued. At the end of the hall is an oversize seven-panel French door. A creamy silk curtain covered what was on the opposite side. The maid swung the doors open with her long slender arms. What I thought would be a simple room, became a ball room. Rows of silver chandeliers sparkled over me. The patterned porcelain floors mirrored my reflection. Royal blue drapes hung over the arched walls, the long slim windows above invited the sun to feed the tropical plants inside. This room must have entertained many guests, but today, it is exclusively reserved for the presentation of Ms. Clarisse’s Will. The grand stage laid ahead, where I imagined countless of bands playing music. Now it’s empty, covered by the red stage drapes.

Rows of plush seats centered the room. I found Mr. Müller in the front, leaning on the oak table that has a pitcher of water. He looks busy, flipping through the papers inside his briefcase. The lawyers Benjamin described are also here, and there’s seven of them, standing behind Mr. Müller. I’m not sure if they really were Troy’s representatives, maybe they’re just trust lawyers or estate lawyers. One of them took notice of me and whispered to Mr. Müller who turned his attention to me. He welcomed me with a smile and told me to sit on the left row, apart from family row. I silently obeyed, wiping my sweaty palms on my satin pants. The thought of being given Ms. Clarisse’s cabin worries me, what if Ana objects? I don’t think I have the right protest something that doesn’t correspond me.

As much as Ms. Clarisse explained, I never understood why Troy, Ana, and Ben were outraged that the inheritance didn’t pass on to them after their father’s death. Why would they put their mother in a five star senior home, and disregard her so easily. Was this all in spite of their father’s actions?

Mr. Müller took a glance at his silver watch and shook his head, ten minutes have passed. They are running late. From the way he frowned, it must be disgraceful to Mr. Müller that they would arrive late for something so important. For Ms. Clarisse’s sake, I couldn’t express my opinion—much less myself.

“It looks like there’s going to be a lot of people” I said, glancing behind me and counting the chairs.

“I’m afraid not.” said Mr. Müller. “This is just a formal look, those who will be attending are—”

An interruption kept Mr. Müller from finishing his sentence, the doors behind us swung open by the maid who escorted me. I kept my head straight, admitting one fact. They are here, late—but here.

My last memories with Ms. Clarisse started to come back. No matter how much water she drank, her dry lips couldn’t hydrate. Her pale face grew weary and her eyes have become difficult for her to remain open. She spent most of her times on the phone, pleading Mr. Müller to not give up in contacting her children. She wanted to see them one last time, but we didn’t receive any visitors.

My toes curled, my legs wanted to lift me on my feet and run. Being in the same room with them gives me an uneasy feelings. More than one pair of shoes echoed on the porcelain tiles. I finally looked behind and found them half way through the seats. Without a doubt, her first son is here, Troy.