DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story based on the style of VC Andrews. The basic idea is mine.
SUMMARY: Summer and Jewel finally meet the man their momma is enamoured with. Nick seems like a great man, but is there more to him than meets the eye?
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yay, people are reading! This makes me happy. I appreciate the suggestions and am working on incorporating them into upcoming chapters. Thanks for reading!

CHAPTER 2: MOMMA'S NEW BEAU

- - -

The next morning, we left the small, crummy motel and headed out for Nick Olsson's place in Wedgewood.

According to Momma, Nick's place had thirteen bedrooms and four bathrooms, and a jacuzzi. It even had a sauna, she had bragged to us, on the ride over, and a spa.

Nick was going to make all of our dreams come true, Momma insisted.

"Well, if he's making you this happy," I told her, "I'll survive. All I want is for you to be happy, Momma."

Nick's home was nearly three times the size of the house we used to live in, in Atlanta, before we moved to Virginia. Nick's place was built in the style of an old Southern plantation home, with a sprawling yard, and a servants' quarters almost as big as our old trailer home in Lynchburg tacked on to the side of the main house.

Nick's mansion was like straight out of a fairy tale.

The front door opened and a tall, thin man stepped out onto the porch, dressed in a black Oxford shirt and neatly pressed khakis. He had blond hair that dusted the top of his shirt collar. He didn't exactly look like a country music producer to me.

Momma jumped out of the driver's seat and ran for Nick, throwing her arms around his neck. "Oh Nick, I'm so happy to see you," she said, burying her face into the crook where his collarbone met his shoulder.

Nick patted a hand down her blonde hair and glanced over her shoulder, to Jewel and me. "Is that Summer and Jewel, Rachael?" he asked, giving Momma a kiss on the cheek.

"Yep, those are the girls." Momma stepped away from Nick, bearing a smile so big, I thought maybe it would crack her face in two it was so wide. "Come on, girls, say hello to Nick."

Jewel and I approached our Momma's new beau cautiously.

"Hey there, Jewel," he drawled, reaching out and giving Jewel's braid a gentle tug. "Hello, Summer." Nick moved to hug me, and I stiffened in his arms, not used to having any man hug me, not even my own father.

"Go on, hon, it's all right. Nick's going to be your stepfather, he won't hurt you," Momma teased, gently, when I tensed up. "They're not used to men. Their father left us when the girls were just toddlers."

Nick nodded, moving away from me. "I see. It's all right, girls. In no time, your momma and me will be married and we'll be a real family."

As Nick led Momma to the house, holding on to her elbow, Jewel reached out and tugged on the hem of my t-shirt.

"I don't like him," she whispered to me, as we followed Momma and Nick. "He wears too much cologne. Daddy never wore cologne."

"You don't remember Daddy," I scolded.

"I do remember Daddy," she protested, petulantly, jutting out her bottom lip as she tended to do when she didn't get her way. "I remember him!"

"He left when you were just three, Jewel. You were too young to remember him," I reminded her, as we entered Nick's mansion. "I don't even remember him that much, and I'm four years older than you."

Jewel sighed, shoving her hands into the pockets of her blue-jean cut off shorts. "Well, I don't like Nick. He wears too much cologne. And I don't like his accent," she pouted.

"You'll get used to him eventually," I sighed. "It'll just take a little while. He does seem like a nice guy."

Jewel continued to pout. "He's trying too hard."

"You just met him," I whispered to her, as we followed Momma and Nick to the sitting room.

Momma took a seat on a red velvet divan, beside Nick. He pulled her hand into his lap and squeezed it. An older woman, obviously Nick's maid, in a shapeless gray dress and faded white apron came out from a hidden door, bearing a tray of tea and snacks.

"This is Ms. Parker," Nick said, gesturing to the woman, "my housekeeper. She and her son, Alex, live on the property as well, in the servants' quarters." Nick turned his eyes to my sister and me and smiled. "Her boy is about your age, girls. Maybe the three of you can become good friends. He's been yearning for someone his age to play with for years now. Hasn't he, Ms. Parker?"

Ms. Parker looked at us and offered a thin smile. She must have been pretty once, but it seemed the years had not done her justice; her face was thin and pale, and her hair, dishwater blonde and drab, hung loosely at her shoulders. "Indeed, Mr. Olsson. My boy will be thrilled." She nodded to us and departed hastily.

Momma tugged on Nick's hand. "Where is the boy, Alex?" she asked, leaning into his shoulder. "I'd like for the girls to meet him. It'd be nice for them to meet a friendly new face right away."

Nick smiled at Momma, blue eyes shining and full, and I had to look away and roll my eyes at Jewel, clandestinely. She held a tiny hand to her mouth, giggling. "Well, Alex should be on the tennis courts right about -- " Nick couldn't finish his sentence, for Jewel had interrupted him with joyous shrieks.

"You have a tennis court?" she cried, jumping with excitement. "I love tennis! I play!"

Nick beamed and stood up, putting a hand on Jewel's shoulder. "I'll summon Ms. Parker and she can show you girls to the courts," he said. "Ms. Parker? Could you please show the girls to the tennis courts?" he called out to the housekeeper.

Ms. Parker re-emerged from the secret door, wiping her hands on her apron. "Certainly, Mr. Olsson. Come girls," she said, gesturing to us with a dusty hand. "We can take the back way, and I can tell you all about Mr. Olsson's secrets." She cast Nick a sly smile before leading us through the secret passageway.

- - -

"Mr. Olsson's father came here to the States following the second World War," Ms. Parker explained, as Jewel and I followed her through the secret passageway. "Originally, the family had been from Sweden, but when the war arrived, Father Olsson -- Gustaf -- packed up his young bride Maria and moved to America."

"But World War II happened in the 1940s," Jewel piped up, trotting to keep up with our pace. "Nick isn't old enough to be born in the 1940s."

A cool, inexplicable draft whistled high in my ears and raised goosebumps on my arms. I shivered and curled my arms around myself in a feeble attempt to shut out the cold.

Ms. Parker smiled at Jewel. "Mr. Olsson was not born until much later," she said, warmly, and I wondered how the housekeeper knew so much about him and his family. She must have sensed my train of thought, because she added, "I have been well acquainted with the Olsson family for many years now. Ever since I was your age, Jewel."

"Wow, that must've been a real long time then, since you're older than my momma," Jewel blurted.

"Jewel Elisabeth," I cried, appalled, but Ms. Parker didn't seem offended; in fact, she seemed almost amused.

"Yes," she agreed with a slight smile, paushing before a black door. "I am quite old." She pushed the door open, and suddenly, we were standing before the grand tennis court.

A golden blond boy about Jewel's height was tossing tennis balls high into the air and whacking them with his raquet. His long blond hair flopped in his face and he paused to brush it aside, when he spotted Ms. Parker.

"Ma!" He dropped his raquet and raced over. Alex Parker came to a halt when he spotted Jewel and I. "Who are they?" he asked, twisting his face into a scowl.

Ms. Parker smiled. "Now, don't be rude, Alexander Parker." The boy just scowled at his mother, who offered us an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for my boy's rude manners."

Alex's frown deepened. "We're not their indentured servants, Ma. Quit talking to them like they're better than us," he snapped at her. He picked up his raquet and bag of tennis balls and stomped out of the court.

- - -

When Jewel, Ms. Parker and I got back to the sitting room, Momma and Nick pulled hastily apart. Momma reached up to dab at the corner of her mouth with her fingers, and Nick coughed into his balled up fist.

"You're back so soon." Momma straightened the front of her dress. Her chest was red and splotchy, and I had to roll my eyes. As if we couldn't tell what she and Nick had been up to. Momma slipped off her white lace gloves and patted her hand to her chest. She picked up a glass of lemonade from a tray next to the divan and sipped delicately.

"We had a nice walk. Ms. Parker told us a bit about Nick's family," I said, taking a seat by the window. Jewel crawled next to Momma on the red divan and couldn't help but yawn behind her small hands.

Momma pulled her fingers through Jewel's hair and smiled at the two of us. "Did you see the sights?" she asked, as Jewel rested her head on Momma's knee.

"We went to the tennis courts," Jewel said, closing her eyes, yawning openly now. "And we saw a boy. He was kinda rude."

Momma looked up at me, raising a blonde eyebrow in question. "A boy?" she asked.

"Ms. Parker's son," I explained, nodding to Nick's housekeeper. "Alex?"

She nodded and smiled. "He's usually a well-behaved young man," she said, clasping her hands behind her back, "but I think Alexander woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

Momma, Ms. Parker and Nick all shared a laugh. I slumped in my seat and crossed my arms over my chest, as Jewel started to doze off in Momma's lap. As Momma glanced down at Jewel and pulled her pale, feathery wisps of blonde hair out of her face, I did not miss the look that passed between my new step-father and his housekeeper.

An odd feeling settled in the pit of my stomach then, but I swallowed it down with a sigh and a sip of lemonade.

- - -

TBC