A/N: Chapter three! I am so thrilled about this fic!
Disclaimer: I don't own Disney. I do own Mama, and kind of own Ezra. I used the existing name, but, essentially, the character itself is original.
Dazzled as she was by all of the breakfast party's grandeur, Essie could not deny that she felt extremely uncomfortable in the company of all of those fine and fancy white folks. They were ten times more refined than she was, from the way they talked to the way they daintily sliced away at their boiled eggs. She didn't hardly want to open her mouth for fear of saying something wrong, and yet, Charlotte seemed bent on dragging her forcibly into the conversation at every available opportunity. Essie only participated for her mistress's sake, for the only person who appeared to be having a rougher time than herself was Charlotte. Essie was well aware of the poor girl's frequent glances over at that Tom Clarke boy, only to quickly refocus her attention on her food, blushing slightly. When she laughed, it was a forced, shrill giggle that was much too loud to be natural, and Essie could only conclude that the poor dear had gotten her fragile little heart broken again, and was putting up quite a show to prove to everyone that she was just fine.
George, on the other hand, seemed quite oblivious to his sister's heartache, and was having a grand old time, chatting gleefully with a pretty young woman who Essie recognized to be Miss Margaret Livingston, another aristocratic friend of the Gracey clan from up in Arkansas. This in itself was an odd phenomenon, as George, though subjected to many a dinner party in his twenty one years, was not exactly the social centerpiece at a party, and could often be seen drinking a glass of scotch off in a dimly lit corner by himself, and it was even more strange that he seemed to have taken up a romantic interest in Margaret. Essie thought it to be rather poor timing for him to start pronouncing his entrance into the world of the socially adept, when his sister was currently a bit of an emotional wreck.
"So, Essie, dear," Charlotte's aunt Melinda said, causing Essie to jump with surprise, "Does your family work here, too?"
Essie glowed with embarrassment, and was for once glad for her dark, ebony skin, as it concealed her incessant blushing, but was a little touched by the fact that the all too visible rosiness had also crept onto Charlotte's cheeks.
"Well, my mother works in the kitchens, and my brother, Ezra, works out in the fields. My father…isn't employed here," Essie finished hurriedly. She didn't want to get into the story about how her father had been sold to a slave auction when she had been only seven years old.
"Oh, well, how lovely," Mel said warmly, who obviously hadn't noticed the tender spot that she had brushed upon. "All of you work so hard on this big old place, it's a blessing to have you all, we wouldn't ever be able to keep up with all of this work without you!"
Essie smiled politely as she had been raised to do, and the smile turned into one of relief when Charlotte hurriedly changed the subject. The rest of the breakfast went fairly smoothly, though Essie was greatly relieved when they were all dismissed to go about the rest of their morning after what seemed like hours of breakfast. She hurried away, and made a beeline to the dark, narrow servant's stairs that led to the kitchens, where she knew that her mother would already be slaving away on lunch. Unfortunately, she hadn't anticipated the look of shock that flashed across her mother's face when she was seen wearing a 'fancy rich girl's dress'.
"Good lord, girl, what are you wearin'?" the tired, aging woman exclaimed, "You better get that fine dress away from these pots and pans," she added, waving her away from the simmering food.
"Miss Charlotte had me accompany her to breakfast this morning, Mama," Essie explained meekly, "She seemed like she was needin' some company,"
"What, with all them rich folk to chat with?" Mama asked incredulously.
"I seem to think that Mr. Tom Clarke has broke the poor girl's heart," Essie said.
"Don't you go sayin' thing like that in front of your Mistress, or she might well just have someone whip your hide, girl," Mama warned, but before she could respond, her brother Ezra flew in through the kitchen door that led to the rest of the plantation.
"Oh, good lord, boy, you're gonna give this old woman a heart attack any day now!" Mama said, clutching her heart.
"Sorry, Mama," Ezra said, grinning devilishly.
"Boy, what are you doin up here, anyhow?" Mama scolded, "If they find out you were up here, they'll whip your hide!"
"Nah, Mama, I'm supposed to take Miss Charlotte for a ride on her pony this afternoon, they gave me the day off from the fields," Ezra said.
"Well, you consider yourself lucky, boy," Mama warned, waving her knife at him. Ezra usually got off easier than the rest of the young men who worked the fields, because he was so talented with the plantation's horses. Equine was what Ezra truly loved.
Ezra gave a whistle when he noticed Essie's dress.
"Well, girl, look at you, all spiffed up!" Ezra said. Next to horses, teasing his younger sister was Ezra's second favorite thing to do. "Are you going to some fancy party today?"
"No, I already did," Essie said defiantly, sticking up her chin.
"Her mistress asked her to join her at breakfast this morning," Mama jumped in before they could get started at each other again.
"Well, getting friendly with them rich white folk now?" Ezra mocked.
"Now, you watch your tongue boy," Mama warned. "Don't you have a pony to tack up?" she added when she noticed the fierce look on Essie's face.
Ezra grudgingly abandoned the enticing smells in the kitchen, giving Essie a final teasing look before heading over to the stables. Essie felt the steam rolling out of her as she watched his retreating figure through the tiny window, and, newly rejuvenated from her visit with her family, bid goodbye to her mother and departed to Charlotte's rooms to return the day dress and prepare her mistress for riding.
