“We don’t live together.” Allison tried to explain. “And I am not a slob.”
“Please! I have been picking up after you since you were in diapers.” Matilda snorted. “If you want to know where the pictures are I can show you Stephanie.” Matilda offered I noticed she dropped my formal title. As far as Matilda was concerned I was family.
“Thank you Mrs. Thornsby.” I accepted with glee.
“No.” Came a deep growl behind me as Matilda started to show me the way to the family albums.
“You are no fun at all.” Matilda scoffed. “What are you afraid of that … she’ll see your cute little tushy?” Matilda laughed.
“Hey it’s my tushy and no one is seeing it.” Allison asserted forcibly.
“Like I said she is no fun.” Matilda sighed. “How do you put up with her?” Matilda teased me. “Your lady is very sweet Allison.”
“She’s not my lady.” Allison corrected her.
“Much pretty than the last one.” Matilda said ignoring her last comment. “She was too tall and too white. I don’t like big scary white women they make me nervous.”
“What am I?” Allison laughed making a sweeping gesture regarding her height.
“You are my doux bebe.” Matilda pointed out as she pinched Allison’s cheek. “And you always will be.”
“Fair enough.” Allison agreed. “Speaking of scary white women has old lady Kendell been around yet?”
“No, thank God!” Matilda scoffed. “That is why I came early. I parked my van in the back so I could make a quick getaway. I hate that old woman. She’s always treating me like I’m a maid just because I’m black. Every time I see her she tosses her coat at me and orders me to get her a drink.”
It appeared that at first glance I had also fallen into the same prejudice. The combination of the grand home and a woman of color dusting the furniture. I had automatically assumed that she was the maid. Not the owner of a cleaning company. “So does everyone around here speak French?” I inquired.
“Not Dad.” Allison chuckled. “Mom refuses to teach him. I think she does that so she can talk about him without him knowing it. Although I think he understands more than Mom would like. Matilda speaks several languages.” Allison added proudly.
“That is what my degree is in.” Matilda sighed. “I thought I could travel and be a translator. But all I was offered was secretarial positions. To relax I would clean my house from top to bottom. My best friend suggested that I should do that for a living. I was appalled. Then she explained that I should start my own business. In fact she offered to be my first client since she lived in a big house and with a baby on the way she needed the help. My business grew almost as fast as the baby girl my friend had.” She pinched Allison’s cheek again. “Doux bebe.”
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind who Matilda’s friend was. I also knew that Matilda was probably the only person alive who could get away with pinching Allison’s cheek like that. “What is that you keep calling her?” I inquired as Allison groaned at my question.
“Doux bebe.” Matilda smiled. “Sweet Baby. And she is too.” Matilda reached for the cheek again and gave it a playful squeezed. “David is my petite homme, which means little man. And Nicole is difficulte!”
“Trouble.” Allison translated. “The translations are a little rough at times. Gaia’s family is from Quebec and with her native heritage Mom’s french is a little iffy. Matilda speaks a more formal version.”
“But my grammar is lacking.” Matilda pointed out.
“Great day in the morning!” A deep voice boomed from a room somewhere off to our left. I was a little startled by the outburst. Allison and Matilda didn’t seem to take any notice. “Dad’s home.” Was Allison’s only response.
“Yes he has been watching football all day.” Matilda answered. “Not to worry your Mother made certain that he lit a fire in your room for the two of you.”
“The two of us?” Allison grimaced as I chuckled. Matilda just stared at us blankly. “Hold on it is the middle of the afternoon? How can he be watching football? I didn’t think there were any games until tomorrow.”
“Who knows.” Matilda answered with a shrug. “But if there is a game on that man can find it. I need to finish my work you two go on and say hello to your Father.”
Allison dropped our bags on the winding staircase and took me by the hand. “Come on time to meet Dad.” Allison gave me a gentle tug on my sleeve and led me to the room the shouting had been coming from earlier. She opened the door revealing a large den with mahogany wood covering the walls. In the center of the room sat the largest television I had ever seen in my entire life. A silver hair gentleman was reclined in an oversized leather armchair.
Wrapped up in the game and with his back to us he failed to notice our entrance. “Great day …” He began to shout once again.
“in the morning … you call that a pass!” Allison bellowed out.
“Allison!” He screamed with delight as he jumped out of his chair and rushed over to his daughter. He swept the taller woman up in his arms. His brown eyes twinkled as he set his daughter down taking a step back from her. “Let’s have a look at you child. How are you feeling?”
“Much better Pops.” Allison reassured him.
“And this is?” He smiled at me.
“Dr. Stephanie Grant this is my Dad, Jefferson Kendell the third.” He took my hand gently as Allison made the introduction.
“Jefferson is fine.” He scolded Allison. “You’re a doctor?” He asked eagerly.
“Relax she’s not that kind of doctor Pops.” Allison teased him.
“So you’re a book worm like my little girl then?” Jefferson teased his eldest child as he reached up and ruffled her raven hair.
“Pops!” Allison protested indignantly.
“What? Not getting to big for your britches are you?” Jefferson laughed. “I could still take you over my knee.” He warned her.
“Pops you have never spanked me in your life.” Allison laughed. I suspect that Matilda had never either. “So who plays football on the day before Thanksgiving?” She asked.
“Classic sports.” He answered with pride.
“So this is an old game?” Allison questioned him.
“What’s your point?” He groaned.
“No point Pops.” Allison chuckled. “Basically you are not really watching the game. You’re just hiding in here so Mom won’t catch you smoking your cigars?”
“I am not smoking.” He lied. “My God it’s genetic!” I thought wryly.
“Nice try Pops.” Allison chastised him. “Next time try cracking a window.”
“Speaking of football.” He cut in before his eldest child could lecture him. “When your Mother told me you were bringing home a friend I got an extra ticket for the game tomorrow.”
“The game?” Allison gasped as her face paled. “Oh no.”
“Something wrong Allison?” He asked with concern.
“No.” She blurted out. “Not a thing. We should go find Mom.”
“Okay then.” He turned attention back towards the television. “Oh by the way I lit a fire in your room so the two of you will be warm tonight.”
“About that Dad.” Allison began dryly. “Stephanie and I are not …”
“Of course not.” Jefferson laughed. He had the same laugh as his daughter I was amazed by the way their personalities matched.
“Where is Mom?” Allison groaned in defeat.
“In the kitchen with Gaia.” He answered absently.
“Amazon!” Nicole called out from the doorway. “And you brought the blonde.” Nicole raced over and hugged the both of us. “Now how are you feeling?”