Someone had also returned the bath product’s that I had removed from the bathroom last night. There was a light smell of bathroom cleaner in the air. I took my time dressing for the day. I didn’t want to run into Gabe in the kitchen this morning. Hopefully, by the time I got down there he was already gone to work. I was forced to wear one of the outfits I bought yesterday because I didn’t have my bag with my clothes in it.
I chose the blue off the shoulder dress with the flower pattern skirt. It was the one outfit I actually liked until I saw the price. Nobody should have to pay this much for one dress. I brushed my hair into a ponytail that would be completely disheveled in an hour, and after I slipped on my flats made my way down to the kitchen.
I ran into an older Hispanic woman that was shining the floors on the second level. Smiling, I waved at her. That solved the mystery as to how my clothes got hung up and the smell of cleaner in the air.
She stopped mopping and returned my smile. I approached her.
“Hi!”
“Wow! You are beautiful!” Her words were a surprise to me for a couple reasons. She spoke as if she knew me, as if she and I had been friends for a long time. And although she was clearly Hispanic, her accent was as New York as Shanice's. I looked down toward the ground slightly embarrassed at her compliment.
“Thanks!” I muttered. She reached out and gently grabbed one of my hands.
“I wondered about you. I said to myself, what kind of woman could make my son suddenly want to marry.” My eyes rose to hers surprised.
“Now, I know.”
Chapter 7
You’re My Gift, No One Else’s
Yasmin
“Oh, my goodness! You’re his maid!” I was appalled. What kind of animal forces his mother to be his maid? She chuckled for a second before her humor faded, looking off in the distance, an intense sadness settled in on her.
“Don’t judge him harshly. I didn’t give him much of a choice.”
“But why? He’s rich! He can pay for someone else to clean his house.” She grunted slightly and it reminded me so much of the sound her son often made from his throat. Although when he did it, it was more intimidating.
“What is your name chica?” She asked.
“Yasmin, ma'am.” You see, I knew how to treat my elders. I'm beginning to think it may just be a southern thing. The youth up north were crazy.
“Well Yasmin, sometimes a mama have to do what she got to do in order to right a wrong she caused her child. Cleaning his home is the only part he will allow me to play in his life.” She looked down toward the floor before lifting her hand to push her long black curls that had fallen in her face behind her ear.
“And I can’t say I blame him.” She muttered.
“You’re his mother; you don't have to take that!”
“I’ll take it because I’m that desperate.” I opened my mouth to ask her why, but she held up her hand cutting me off.
“Don’t worry about me, beautiful girl. I made my bed, now I have to lay in it.” She picked up her mop bucket and walked toward the back of the hall, but before she turned the corner she stopped and looked back at me.
“It was nice meeting you, but…” She hesitated before she spoke, choosing her words carefully.
“Don’t tell him you spoke to me okay, it will only upset him.” She paused again as if the words she was going to say next were painful.
“Chica... Gabriel gets angry sometimes and…” She hesitated.
“It’s best if you don’t be around him until he cools off.” She gave me one last reassuring smile before she disappeared around the corner.
Wow!
Who treated their mother that way? I don’t care what she did to him. She’s obviously sorry! If not, she would not degrade herself to be his maid. Which meant, he should forgive her. My mother is dead, and I would give anything just to get one more chance to hold her in my arms; to listen to her tell me about her day or sit and watch her roll out dough to make one more pie… or just to tell her I love her and will always do so.
I pushed opened the kitchen door angry, but came up short at the sight of a brand new red coffee pot sitting on the counter by the sink. Next to it was a coffee cup and a can of gourmet coffee. This knocked the wind out my sails. I stood there paralyzed as the cells that made up my body did a little dance at the sight of that beautiful pot.
It was a splash of color in a very sterile room. Slowly I approached it, turning my head to check that I was alone.
He remembered.
As I made myself a cup of coffee, I couldn’t help but ponder over how thoughtful that was. How could a man that remembered such a small detail treat his mother so cruel? I was still battling over this when Stacy sailed in an hour later.
“I am famished, let’s start with lunch. I know this really nice bistro that serves a cilantro lime risotto to die for.” Today, she was wearing a beautiful yellow suit. And just like the one yesterday, it looked as if it had been tailored for her body. On her feet was a black pair of heels that had red bottoms. I smiled at her.
“Sure, just give me a minute to get my phone.”
After Jerome escorted us into
