Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.
Chapter 10 - They are Different from You and Me
Monique smiled as Will stood at parade rest and endured a grilling from her mother.
Understanding Will made it easier to deal with some of his idiosyncrasies. Smaller and younger than other boys in his class he had seized on ROTC as a way to command respect he could not receive in other ways. Monique worried he had taken the lessons too much to heart, he showed a deference for authority she often found annoying. She crossed her fingers and hoped her mother didn't regard his posture as poking fun at the seriousness of the request.
"…and you're paying for the round trip?"
"Actually, Ma'am, I plan to fly out. Monique will fly with me rather than taking a commercial flight."
"And you're going to your parents' home. You aren't stopping to spend the night somewhere along the way?"
"No, Ma'am. A refueling stop or two, but otherwise straight to the coast."
Momma's eyes narrowed with suspicion, "Refueling stops?"
"Yes, Ma'am, don't want to pull a 'we're out of gas' routine in mid-air."
Momma smiled, "Okay, just reassure me again that Monique will have her own room and everything will be properly chaperoned."
"I promise to be a perfect gentleman, Mrs. Grant."
"And he is, Momma."
Almost two weeks later Will had one reminder for Monique on their way out. "I'm pretty sure my sister will be there at least part of the time. She is Barbara, or Barb. Her husband may be out of the country. He is Kenneth, or Ken. You do not, under any circumstances, refer to them as Barbie and Ken."
Barbara sat where she commanded a view of the driveway. She smiled as a taxi pulled up in front of the house, eager for a look at the girl who had captured her little brother's heart. She waited impatiently as Will paid the driver, "Charles," she called, "William is home. He and his guest will have bags." Will left the taxi as Charles went down the steps for Will and Monique's suitcases. The driver popped the trunk and Charles pulled out a nondescript duffle bag that piqued Barb's curiosity. Will, meanwhile, had gone to the other side of the taxi to open the door for Monique. Barb saw the back of her head as she got out. Only as Monique stood and turned to the house did Barb catch her first clear look at the young woman, "Oh, my God, this is going to be a problem."
Barbara was not the only surprised person. Charles raised an eyebrow, but it was not his job to question. He'd understood he was to put Will's guest in the blue room, but decided he'd wait for confirmation on that order. Monique simply stood by Will as the taxi drove away. She stared, open-mouthed, at the house. "You grew up here?"
"Mostly. We have a little place in Boston and a summer home out on the island-"
"Wait, you've got three houses?"
"You asked where I grew up. I started the list. I only have an apartment and own one house."
"You own a house?"
"Probably more of a cottage, out on the Cape. It's really more of an investment property."
"Let's go inside. I need to sit down."
Charles had preceded them into the house, but remained standing in the hallway, awaiting orders, as Will pushed the door open, "Mom? Dad?"
Barb came in view at the door to the drawing room, "He won't be home until tomorrow. She's at a garden club meeting or something - probably home in an hour or two."
"Barb! How long can you stay?"
She nodded, "All week, just for you. Kenneth is in Dubai until God knows when. Should I assume this is Monique?"
"Sorry. Monique Grant, my sister, Barbara Barrington. Barb, Monique."
Monique felt Barb's eyes rake over her critically, "She's attractive," the woman thought, "what in the hell is she doing with Will?"
Charles coughed politely, "Pardon me, I believe I was to put the guest's things in the blue room?"
"Yes," Will told him. Addressing his sister and Monique, "Why don't we sit and talk in the-"
"Monique and I will be talking in my old room," Barbara told him, taking Monique by the arm. "You can either go talk with the cook about dinner or find something masculine to do."
"I don't-" Monique tried to get a word in.
"Nonsense," Barb told her. "I'm sure Will knows how to do something masculine. And I want to talk with you."
Monique cast a look of near panic over her shoulder and Barb steered her down a hall, up a flight of stairs, down another hall, and into a yellow bedroom probably half the size of Monique's entire apartment. "Sit," the dark blonde commanded, pointing to two delicate chairs in front of a small fireplace.
The two sat and stared at each other for a full minute before Barb spoke, "May I assume this is as uncomfortable for you as it is for me?"
Monique nodded her head yes, not willing to speak
After a minute Barbara broke the silence. "My brother has amazingly little dating experience," she noted.
"I'll say," Monique muttered softly.
"So I've always assumed the first girl he brought home would be a complete mistake. My guesses were some ditz with a nice set of boobs or a gold digger more interested in his money than him. Any chance you are a ditz?"
"I resent your implication, and I don't think you know your brother very well," Monique replied hotly.
Barb raised one eyebrow in a supercilious manner, "You're not a ditz. And I know my brother exceedingly well. Are you going to tell me some romantic nonsense about falling in love with him at first sight?"
Monique hesitated. "I don't have to answer your questions."
"No, you don't. But if you're honest with me I'll be honest with you. Your choice."
Another uncomfortable minute passed in silence before Monique spoke. "Okay, when I met Will I thought he was the most boring guy I'd ever met. I was really mad at the friend who introduced us."
Barb smiled, "That's honest. Will is a good kid, but he's never left a good first impression with anyone. Who was this mutual friend who did the introduction?"
Monique recognized a woman with shrewd interview skills as she chatted with Barb. Will's sister wanted to make her comfortable and open her up more than Monique felt like being interrogated. The two continued their subtle duel for another twenty minutes, with Monique knowing she had been pressured into saying more than she wanted to say.
Barbara nodded at her, "You've survived the first round of interviews. You appear honest to me and I like to believe I'm a good judge of character. I don't know if you have any business with my brother, but I will suspend judgment for the moment. You will probably meet family more suspicious than I."
"That's something to look forward to," Monique muttered.
"Consider yourself warned. And family isn't the only hurdle. You've got a brain, and appear to have a backbone. You'll need both. Will can be amazingly stubborn and insist he gets his way.
"I've not noticed that. He seems very flex… Now you've got me doubting him. He has seemed flexible." "But the stubborn is certainly true."
"There are two possibilities. He may have been so disoriented when he fell for you that he hasn't been acting like his old self - but as he becomes more comfortable that aspect of his personality may reassert itself. My hope is that he's outgrown that unfortunate trait. It made it difficult for him to hold on to friends."
"You've studied psychology, haven't you?" the black woman asked suddenly.
"Master's Degree. Why do you ask?"
"I'm planning on a minor in psych. Or maybe a double major with my business."
"Business?" Barb said it in a way that showed it raised her suspicions about Monique's interest in Will's money.
"I'm going to manage a Club Banana after I graduate."
"Will won't let his wife work in retail."
"Wife?"
"Oh, Will hasn't asked you to marry him yet?"
"What?"
"He's going to, probably soon. How will you answer?"
"I don't know… I don't want to get married to Will, at least not right now. I don't know that I ever will. I want to know him better, maybe someday-"
"Well, you can plan your answer for when he asks. And if you are serious about working you should start thinking about how to present that." The older woman looked at Monique and smiled. "If I think you're good for my brother I'll have your back against anyone in the family - including mother and father. If you hurt him I'll cut your heart out. But I attack from the front. I won't stab you in the back. Do we understand each other?"
"No, but I'll try."
"That's good enough for the moment. Now, let's find Will. I want to watch the two of you together - and figure out what I'm going to say to mother when she gets back."
Barb wished she'd more time for character analysis before Mother came home. Will appeared to still be too much Will. While he paid more attention to Monique than she could recall him demonstrating to anyone he was still too sure of himself and demanding to be in control. Monique struck her as a strong individual; if she put up with that sort of treatment it could only mean the black woman wanted a piece of the family fortune. Barb closed her eyes and shook off the suspicion. Monique was visiting a home full of strangers and could be justifiably nervous. Barb would give her the benefit of the doubt and try to gain a better sense of the young woman during the week.
As Barb contemplated how to treat Monique her mother arrived home. The three were talking when they heard a woman's voice at the door. "Did William and his friend arrive?"
"Yes, Madame," Charles replied, "they are in the drawing room."
The younger set rose as Mrs. Du entered the room. She paused in surprise, then recovered as best she could and went over to them.
"Mother," Will greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.
Trying not to stare at Monique, Will's mother stared off into space some four feet to the side.
Barb made the introductions, "Mother, this is Will's friend, Monique Grant. Monique, my mother, Mrs. Linda Du."
"I, um, trust you had a pleasant flight," Will's Mom managed, still without looking directly at Monique.
"It's okay to be a little uncomfortable," Barb told her Mom. "Will didn't tell us how young she was. Monique will just be a sophomore in college this fall."
Linda Du laughed nervously, glad for her daughter's support. She managed to look more directly at Monique. "We are happy you could come. You must tell me about your education goals while you are here."
But supper provided no opportunity to talk about Monique's college plans. Mrs. Du seemed only interested in talking with her son. While Will tried to bring Monique into the conversation his mother kept her words few and polite to the stranger at the table. Both Monique and Barb noticed the disinclination to include Monique in her questions. Barb credited it to her mother being uncomfortable, Monique took it more personally. Barb tried to compensate by engaging Monique in conversation, which earned her mother's gratitude because it gave her even greater freedom to ignore the black woman.
Monique's early life as an army brat fascinated Barb, and the knowledge that the black woman spoke German had Barb testing her own rusty conversation skills in the language.
The meal failed to convince Barb that Monique and her brother represented a good match, but the young woman had enough brains that she might really have come to appreciate Will's good points.
Monique withheld judgment on Will's sister also. The older woman was too penetrating and suspicious to be counted as a friend, but Monique really wanted to believe Barb wouldn't try to sabotage her and would give her a chance.
"What would you like to do this evening?" Mrs. Du asked her son at the end of dinner.
"I don't believe Will has taken her down for a walk along the beach," Barb intervened. "Fortunately we'll have a week to get to know Monique better." Monique shot Barb a grateful look for proposing she and Will have some time together.
Monique and Will changed, and saw Barb on their way out. His sister looked Will over, and complimented him on dressing better.
"You're welcome," Monique replied.
Barb raised an eyebrow, "You're dressing him already?"
"Just giving him some tips."
The older woman gave Monique a smile and a nod and the knot in Monique's stomach loosened slightly as they went out.
"What's that," she asked as the two neared the ocean.
"Boat house. Have you been sailing before?"
"No," Monique admitted.
"Barb and I will have to take you out before you leave."
"Do we have to take her along?" Monique pouted.
"No, but she handles a boat better than I do. When I was little I wanted to sail on an America's Cup crew. But when your sister handles a boat better than you do you get a pilot's license and take high-speed driving courses to compensate."
The two walked along the beach for almost a mile, there were very few homes, and all of them as impressive as that of the Du's. Will named various residents, and Monique discovered she had heard most of the family names before in relation to politics or business.
They encountered only one person, who stared hard at Monique.
"She's with me," Will told him. He raised his arm to show they were holding hands.
The man laughed, "She looks like a keeper. How long you home?"
"Only a week."
"Stop by and introduce her any time."
Another knot in Monique's stomach loosened slightly. Not every meeting would be as uncomfortable as what she experienced at the Du home.
After walking back they stood on the warm, moonlit beach rather than returning to the house and Will continued kissing practice. Monique took a great deal of pleasure in how well he had mastered his lessons.
"I thought Barb and I would take Monique sailing," Will told his mother at breakfast the next morning.
"That's fine, dear."
"Did Monique bring anything grubby enough for going out?" Barb demanded. She looked over at the black woman, who looked puzzled. "I'll take that expression as a no. And since I don't think we have anything that would fit you I'll take you shopping." Monique wasn't certain if the comment was a less than subtle insult about her hip size, or a simple observation of fact. "Will, you are welcome to come with us. We can go sailing tomorrow – besides I think you'll need to have the boat here looked over first."
"Day after tomorrow," Linda reminded Barb, "I told you about the invitation to the Stevensons'."
"No one told us," Will grumbled.
"All the neighbors will be there, you have to go," his mother told him.
After breakfast Will drove. "You can come with Monique and me, or go to The Sharper Image," Barb informed him.
Will hesitated, which Monique took as an answer, "We'll call you when we're done for lunch," she told him. He grinned and went off to look at gadgets.
"I'm buying, where do you want to go?" Barb asked as Monique studied a floor plan.
"Where do you suggest, since I don't know what I need."
Barb made several store suggestions, and Monique did not pick the most expensive option and picked out a sensible outfit once there.
As they left to find a pair of canvas shoes for Monique the older woman stopped and stared into a window, "Should we buy a gift for Will too?"
Monique started to agree, but glanced into the store first and found they were in front of Victoria's Secret. "No," she hissed angrily.
Barb raised and eyebrow and looked suspicious.
"Why do I feel like everything you say to me is a test?" Monique demanded.
"Because it is," Barb admitted. Monique frowned. "Remember, I told you I would be honest with you if you were honest with me."
"Can you tell me if I'm passing or failing?"
"You're holding up very well. Either you are an amazing manipulative liar or I need to send a thank-you note to your friend Kim."
"We can stop at the stationary store before we meet Will."
Barb smiled, "I'm not assigning a passing grade until after a second visit. But I'll probably cancel the background check I planned to run on you next week."
Monique stared, open-mouthed. "You were going to do a background check on me?"
"I told you, I'll be honest with you."
"I'm not sure if you're a friend or an enemy."
"Neither yet," Barb reminded her, "and I'm not deciding now either. But I think we're going to be friends."
Monique doubted that would ever happen.
Will's father managed to say even less to Monique at supper than his mother.
And Will's father had left before Will and Monique made it downstairs the next day. His mother was upstairs getting dressed.
"How should we dress for the Stevensons?" Will asked.
"You two are off the hook," a well-dressed Barb told them.
"Off the hook?" Monique asked.
"You got excused from the 'event' Mom had wrangled invitations for. Why don't you take her in to Boston to walk the Freedom Trail or something," she suggested to Will.
"What do you mean, 'got excused'?" Monique wanted to know.
Barb sighed, "What she confided in me is that she needs more time to adjust to you before she introduces you to her friends. My fear is that she hopes the two of you will break up before that."
"That's-" Will blurted angrily.
"That's my interpretation," Barb quieted him. "I could be wrong. Remember, she said she's trying. Give her credit for effort. You might have given her a little more warning, Will."
Monique didn't mind a day spent exploring Boston with Will, with a lesson on eating a lobster properly and trip on the Red Line to Harvard Square.
As they sat down for breakfast the next morning Will observed, "Beautiful day for sailing."
"Twenty percent chance of a storm, you shouldn't go out," his mother warned.
"Eighty percent chance of a gorgeous day and a lot of fun," Barb pointed out.
"Wear a swim suit under your clothes," Barb told Monique. "We'll probably take a dip while we're out."
The boathouse smelled of disuse.
"Glad we had them check the boat over," Barb said critically.
"The folks should get rid of the boat if they aren't going to use it."
"Why don't they use it?" Monique asked.
"We had a brother who died in an accident while sailing," Barb explained.
"Disappeared," Will corrected her.
"And we don't know it was an accident," Barb snapped. "Drop it."
Monique stayed out of the siblings' exchange and stood to the side as they checked things over. "I expected a yacht or something."
"You don't sail a yacht," Will laughed. "A crew handles it for you."
"Speaking of crew," Barbara saluted her brother, "what are your orders today, Captain?"
"I thought we'd go out a few miles, down the coast aways, into town for a late lunch and home for dinner."
His sister nodded agreement, and Monique asked, "What about me?"
"You're passenger, but we'll give you some lessons once we're out on the ocean.
Will and Barb raised the jib and main sails on the sloop-rigged vessel and Will dropped the center board in place as they headed out to sea.
The next couple hours were one of the most beautiful moments of Monique's life.
"Will is tacking to the northeast at the moment," Barb explained. "Wind is from the north, so he can't sail too close." The older woman also explained the names for various parts of the vessel, and let her handle the sheets to trim the sails.
Monique had almost begun to feel comfortable when the wind suddenly dropped and Barb gave a loud, "Bloody hell!" and called Will's attention away from Monique to a bank of ugly black clouds rolling in fast from the east. "Mom's twenty percent just hit a hundred."
"You want to—" Will started.
"Take us back!" Barb barked.
Monique remembered Will telling her Barb was the better sailor, and wished the woman had taken the tiller.
"Monique, get on a life jacket," Will called. He changed heading and brought the sloop around before the east wind hit.
"What now?" the black woman asked.
"Lie flat."
"Lie flat?"
"What are you doing?" Barb demanded.
"Jibing south, going to run us in."
"What did he say?" Monique asked Barb.
"He said lie flat." Barb gritted her teeth and hoped Will knew what he was doing.
Monique did as instructed, and learned why a minute later.
"Ready to jibe," Will called.
"Ready," Barb answered.
"Jibe ho!" The boom on the main sail whipped across the deck.
Barb scrambled forward, "I'm dropping the jib!"
"Thanks."
They jibed twice more before the rain hit, and what had seemed a perfect day quickly transformed into hell.
"Why's he doing this?" Monique asked as Barb lay close to her as the boom swept over them.
"He thinks he's got more stability jibing than tacking in rough water."
Barb's attempts to calm Monique's fears did little to help Monique's fears when she heard Barb grilling her brother a minute later. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Once we're in position to run in we can go a lot faster than if I tried broad reach in."
"Yeah, if you don't run us aground or broach us. Reaching would be safer."
"Trust me."
The rain poured down on them. Monique began to worry about drowning while onboard ship. "We're going to start our run in now."
Monique wished she knew what he meant, but his voice sounded optimistic. Barb dispelled that illusion. "How the hell do you know?"
"Trust me!"
"Need a straight answer, Will, or you face a mutiny."
"New Global Justice GPS, best one available."
"Hope the damn thing's waterproof."
"So do I."
Running, as it appeared to Monique, meant the wind almost directly behind them and going faster in the stiff breeze than they had any time earlier in the day.
"You can sit up, if you want," Barb told her.
"Are we safe now?"
"Only if my brother has a good way for us to stop."
"What?"
"Sailboats don't have brakes."
Barb's comments made Monique fear the storm even more. The young woman had no idea how fast they were traveling, but might have guessed a hundred miles an hour.
"Can you see anything," Barb asked anxiously.
"Enough," Will called, "get ready to drop sail in a couple minutes."
Lowering the sail slowed the boat. With visibility poor his sister couldn't tell if Will was a genius or a fool, then she saw the outline of the boat house through the driving rain. They virtually drifted in the last twenty feet, but that was much better than moving by too quickly. The siblings laughed loudly as they jumped on the dock and secured lines to the cleats. Will gave a hand to Monique from the boat and the three scrambled to the boat house, where a hysterical mother waited for them with a pile of towels. The towels were ignored as she grabbed her two children and held them tightly.
Barb gave her mother a minute to calm down, then slipped out of her grasp and tossed a towel to Monique and began to dry her own face and hair with another.
They waited fifteen minutes, hoping the rain would end. The rain gave no hint of stopping and the trio who had been out on the boat wanted dry clothing so the four headed up to the house.
"We'll have you out again tomorrow, or the day after," Will promised Monique as they trudged through the downpour."
"Please, no," his mother requested.
"Got to agree with your mom," Monique told him.
"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Du managed to say.
As Monique toweled off she reflected that Barb had said nothing of her own sailing abilities, preferring to let Will have the spotlight. She wondered if Will would have given his sister the same benefit if the roles were reversed. It wasn't a bad family, they just weren't as open and welcoming as her own.
Other than the one 'dear' on the afternoon of the storm Linda Du never used the term towards Monique again, and her discomfort around the young black woman remained obvious.
Monique related very well to feeling uncomfortable. Most of the household staff was African-American – including Charles whose faint British accent came from his upbringing in Jamaica. Monique, who had no experience with servants, didn't like asking for things, and felt like they resented her when she did.
And so the week dragged slowly on to its inevitable end. Monique felt slighted by Will's parents, minutely scrutinized by his sister, ignored by the servants, and too often ignored by Will.
Will took her along when he went to see acquaintances and neighbors, but Monique could never feel a part of the gathering. Still, she did get a thrill at a neighbor's house as she looked across the crowded room and saw a familiar face. She nudged Will, "That's Ted Kennedy!" she whispered.
He glanced over, "I don't think so."
Monique stared harder. "I'm sure that's Ted Kennedy."
Will looked again, a little longer. "You're right. I'm sorry, I didn't recognize him sober… Would you like an introduction?"
Monique stared at Will, "You know him?"
"Not well. His niece lives next door to this house."
"You have a Kennedy in your neighborhood!"
"Her name isn't Kennedy. And it's no big deal. They're a large family. You'll find his relatives in half the better neighborhoods in Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island."
To Monique the fact the Senator remembered Will's name seemed even more impressive than Will being able to introduce her.
By the end of the trip Monique found herself anxious to return home.
The cabin in the small plane was quiet enough for normal conversation. "That went very well, didn't it?" Will said cheerfully as they reached cruising altitude for the first leg of the trip back.
Monique looked at him, hoping to catch some indication that he was being ironic. It had been one of the most harrowing weeks of her life. Was he suffering from his old inability to read people, or had he projected his optimism for what he wanted to happen onto the grim reality?
"I'm not sure I'd say it went very well… I'd probably not even say well. You didn't notice your Dad sneaking out of rooms to avoid talking with me, or your Mom acting like I wasn't there at dinner conversations?"
"I'm sure you're imagining that."
"Denial and projected optimism," Monique thought to herself. "Maybe I'm just tired. It was a stressful week for me."
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "Can we stop anywhere for a romantic candlelit dinner on the way back? We can phone your mother and say we'll be a little late getting you home." "I have an important question I want to ask."
"Thanks, but what I know for certain is that I'm tired. I just want to get home and get a good night's sleep in my own bed."
Will fell silent for about fifty miles. Monique, unsure how much concentration he needed for flying, watched clouds. This was assuredly not the time or place he had planned, but there was no time like the present.
"I hear a rattling sound," Will told her.
"I don't hear anything."
"I've got very good ears. It sounds like it is coming from underneath your seat. There is a sliding compartment down there with some charts in it. Could you check it for me?"
Wondering what Will imagined he heard; Monique pulled the compartment open. "There's some sort of little box in here."
"Open it. What is it?"
Monique opened the small box and stared, "OMG look at the size of that rock."
Will waited thirty seconds, "Well? Will you?"
Monique closed the box and put it back into the chart compartment, closing the drawer.
He waited a little longer, "Monique? Will you?"
"Not a good time to ask," she snapped. "I'm stressed out, and I'm not planning on accepting any proposals until after college."
"But you don't need to finish college if you—"
"Not a good time to ask," she repeated even more emphatically. She punctuated her comment by turning away from him and closing her eyes.
He managed to honor her request for silence for almost seventy-five miles.
"Maybe later?" he asked softly.
"Maybe much later," she responded.
Will grinned and let her nap. She hadn't said no.