Chapter Six - Emma
I've got her. Regina has fallen right into my trap of friendly conversation. She has no idea that as we chatter away over breakfast, I will be carefully weighing up all the information she gives me about herself to see whether any details don't quite add up or unwittingly points to her true intentions about my son. I know there's no chance of her coming out and saying, "I love money and I want loads from Henry," she might give away little here and there that indicate an unsavory character or outlandishly lavish tastes. I'm bound to find something if I keep her talking long enough.
And I know there's something. No doubt in my mind. There was a moment there last night when I considered attempting to hold off on my judgements because the voices of my family were ringing in my ears, telling me that I was being rash and looking for the worst in others "as per usual." I was going to be sensible and sleep on my gold-digger theory, but I didn't sleep. Not enough anyway. It was way too cold. I always find it hard to readjust to the freezing weather when I come back home, and last night it felt like I woke up every five minutes to pull my extra blankets back on. They just wouldn't stop sliding off the single bed I've had since I was child. I didn't want a king-size bed because I wanted more space around my room. I shouldn't be surprised that they swerved Henry's childhood bedroom in favor of a top-floor suite with not one but two double beds and a sweeping view of the mansion. I am sure Regina would accept nothing less. I was pissed off about the sleeping arrangements from the moment I woke up this morning and I have been pissed off every second since. My son is fucking right next door to my room!
Still, I have to play nice so that Regina doesn't work out I'm on to her. I think she picked up on my distaste when I first came into the room, and it made her all stutter and skittish. She wouldn't be nervous if she had nothing to hide, would she? I've just got to soften my approach a little to keep her from closing off completely. It's going to be a tricky balance, but I know I am up to the task.
"Breakfast!" Henry calls out.
Regina's face lights up as she turns towards the archway. It's the first time this morning that she's seemed genuinely happy. It is because of hearing Henry's voice? I must admit that would be pretty sweet and unexpectedly … Ah. No. Following Regina's eyeline, I see that she's only looking at Henry's tray. It's round silver tray loaded up with a pot of tea, jug of milk, bowl of sugar cups, two mugs, two plates of toast, a few pats of butter, and selection of mini jam and jaws-and it makes Henry look like a bloody butler. It breaks my heart seeing him so eager to please Regina. Even worse to see it working.
"Mom, grams need help."
"Yeah," I got up to enter the kitchen to help her grab the rest of the dishes then Henry puts down the tray on the table wondering what's taking me so long. "Are you joining us, mom?"
"She is," Regina says. She's still smiling, but with a little bit forced now. Something in the eyes. Regina had already started to get up and now sits back down. "I love breakfast," Regina says suddenly. Her voice overlaps with mine, cutting me off just when I was about to ask questions. None of them were going to be about her opinions on breakfast. Although it might be to get her talking about her favorite places to splurge on an extravagant brunch. How often is Henry footing the bill for eggs Benedict and bottomless mimosas? Regina starts shaking her head before I can think of a way to ask subtly. "I don't love breakfast," she says. "That was weird, sorry. I just like it."
Henry comes back in with an extra plate and mug, and Regina looks relieved. Maybe she is a similar sort of awkward to my son after all. I need to get a closer look at their dynamic, so I reckon I'll let the conversation move naturally for a while. I am not having much luck getting my questioning started anyway.
I butter my toast and Henry pours us all juice and tea and we work our way through the usual small talk. Mom and dad are happily eating as usual on the table with us, they are not as chatting as Henry. No, I didn't sleep that well and my parents inquired why I was sleeping late. Yes, the snow was beautiful last night which suggested by them as well that they drank hot cocoa with cinnamon and enjoyed the snow late last night. Okay, I don't need to know that. Yes, it will be great when everyone gets together later. They asked if I have any dinner plans, and that's a no, I do not have any plans since now I am focusing on proving I am settling down. It was nice and quiet breakfast so far.
Regina doesn't join in. She hasn't uttered a single word since she came out as a breakfast fanatic. She just nods along to the conversation, and only answers when grandparents ask simple questions. She was polite and kind towards everybody. After few minutes, I get fed up with waiting for something more "dynamic" to happen.
"So, I assume you're a London girl, Regina?"
"Me?" she asks. Then she shakes her head, "no, I am Puerto Rican then moved to Brooklyn, New York at young age."
"Cool," I say. "Whereabouts in the city?"
"Um, I grew up in Kings County, but also Boerum Hill because of my family lives there, so I go back and forth."
"Mom, that's near the warehouse, isn't it?" Henry says to me then he turns to Regina, "Before mom went traveling for work, she rented this amazing, converted warehouse in Brooklyn for a short time."
Regina seems to perk up at this, "The pub or one in Angel and my favorite place is the Italian pantry shop."
"Angel for comedy and the pub to drink," I was surprised and she's completely right, "the pantry was so good. I loved that place!"
She laughs, "yep, and I always go back for more." We continue talking about the places around Brooklyn and it seems we ran into the same people and it's amazing we haven't meet. Regina beams at me for first time and this time, I know that one is a real smile that lights up her eyes.
"We all can go see comedy when we visit Brooklyn. Don't you think, mom?"
Regina's smile falters slightly. She looks awkward again, and maybe a bit guilty? She starts shaking her head back and forth slightly this time. "Yes, comedy is the best date night."
I narrow my eyes, finding the sudden change in her mood and behavior very confusing. My suspicious are reignited, "that is so sweet that you get to go out a lot. I bet you don't only go to the comedy cubs, though, right?
She opens her mouth as if to reply, but then she stops herself. She just nods. It's no less awkward than the head shaking. She scratches her neck. Returns to her milky cup of tea. Henry jumps in, in his cheery tone, "Do you remember we went to the book tour," then turns to me, "We loved going to book tours and signing conference. Regina smiles, "Oh yeah, that was a lot of fun, we loved traveling and going book tours. We loved exploring and …." Henry follows to explain what happens during the book tours. Mom & dad was enjoying listening and talking, so oblivious to what's happening. That was very strange change of emotions in short amount of time.
Few moments later, she scrapes her chair back, "excuse me," then turns to mom and dad, "thank you for delicious breakfast." Mom replied, "that's alright dear."
She pulls her hand away from Henry's to pick up the toast she's slathered with apricot jam and take a quick bite. "I am not hungry this morning. I really need a shower. I apologize. Thank you for breakfast," repeating herself then eyes towards me, "Emma, nice to see you again."
As she rushes past me, I smell her perfume. A lovely delicate scent. Sweet like vanilla but with a hint of something warm and spicy. It smells expensive. Why would Regina put it on this morning if she knew she was going to have a shower so soon? She's also all dressed for the day ahead already with tight knit red dress that hugged her body so perfectly. She's awfully sexy and shinier today it was last night. She definitely don't need a shower or hair wash. Something else has made her want to abruptly end our conversation. Something to make her leave her beloved breakfast behind. Something like me mentioning Henry about going out dates' nights?
"Is she all right?" I ask once she's left the room.
"Oh yeah," Henry says, although his furrowed brow tells another story. He looks totally perplexed by Regina's sudden departure. Why is he wasting his time with someone so strange and shifty?
"Yeah, mom," he says again with more confidence. "She's fine. She's tired and we didn't get much sleep last night."
Ew. That will be why.
"I don't need to hear that," I say.
He sighs with a blush has spread across his face and neck, "Maybe she'll have a nap or something after her shower, then I'm going to take her on tour of the gardens. We're going to go swimming later, too. And in the afternoon, I have a few bits I have to get finished for work. I just have to check how they are doing and finalize some orders. Duty calls! After that, I hope to be free for the rest of Christmas…."
"I nod as he babbles on and on as usual. She always does this when he's anxious or embarrassed. No point in trying to interrupt. I sit back in my chair and take a long sip of my black coffee, feeling sorry for my son, but also secretly pleased that Regina already seems to be feeling the pressure from me. Maybe she'll become so ashamed of herself for taking advantage of my sweet son that she'll crack and fess up to what she's been doing. I might only take a few more questions from me at this rate. I'll have to find a way to ask her some more after her shower.
Twenty minutes later, I just so happen to be walking down the corridor of my room. And up it. And down it again. Maybe I lost something up here, or maybe I'm stretching my legs. Dunno. I'm packing up and down of the corridor that happens to have Regina and Henry's right there.
Henry is safely out of the way downstairs, doing the washing-up and helping grandparents. While I won't stand for Regina taking advantage of his generosity, it's my right as a mother to protect him and I am busy enough up here, strolling up and down the hallway.
One of their doors creaks open.
How strange. There's Regina. What an absolutely crazy coincidence to bump into her here. I raise my brows in surprise and walk over to meet her. And even more strange, she's still in same clothes and haven't showered. Her hair isn't yet and nothing has changed as I. get closer. I can smell that she's still doused in that sweet and spicy perfume of hers. All that changed is now she got a bit of mascara and fuck-me-red lipstick on.
When she sees me, her eyes widen slightly, "hi."
"Hey!" I step closer. "Funny seeing you here. I was just looking for …" I cast a quick look around for excuse. I don't know if it's the chemistry between us or why am I here exactly. "I heard this lamp wasn't working." I reach over to a tall floor lamp next to Regina. Pulls its chord twice, on and off. "Oh, it does work? Good."
She smiles tightly, leaning out of the way of my outstretches arm or at least she's trying. She takes a small step backwards and starts looking for her phone, "sorry, I have to take care of this." In one swift movement, she disappears back inside her room.
I fight the urge to kick over the floor lamp. I can't keep loitering around now that I've used up that stupid improvised excuse. I wanted to ask Regina more questions as soon as possible to really pile on the pressure, and to get as much info as I could before the rest of my family came rushing in to pull her attention in all directions. I guess I still have the rest of the day to play with. I file her probably-fake phone call away in my mind as minor evidence of her major caginess, and make my way back down the stairs to the ground floor.
The only solid plan I have today is rearranging all the tables in this room. Every year, the grandparents and I would push all the tables together to make one long dining table in the middle of the room. The smaller square tables were custom-built for this, so they all fit together seamlessly, and any telltale cracks get covered by a tablecloth. I've never seen the point in reconfiguring the whole room just for Christmas, when we already have a perfectly nice dining room in the family wing. I try not to engage too much with my mother's ideas about how to make every single room perfect. I have never been able to fit in into this picture-perfect family, which is probably why I left and traveling around the United States as a bail bondsperson. This year, I am turning over a new leaf. When everyone gets to bed tonight, they will see that I've already put myself to work. Team player of the year. MVP.
I pull all the tablecloths off and pile them in a corner. I am free to drag the tables around the room, their sturdy legs occasionally catching on the rug. I guess it's kind of nice to reclaim this room for ourselves. I suppose there is a lot more space in here than it is in the dining room. We have always needed plenty of space to lay out all the food we get through at this time of year. A freshly baked loaf of bread. A giant soup kettle. A tray of sweet mince tarts. All just sitting out throughout the day so that anyone can help themselves at any time.
We are lucky we have such a big kitchen. That is one upside to my home being run down a little and only eat when I can afford. I stand back and admire my handiwork and the beauty of this place, my home. The dining table is all set up now, stretching out dramatically through the center of the room. I washed the big tablecloth myself yesterday, and I've topped it with a patterned Christmas colored runner and a few candles, plus the garland that was arranged on the fireplace before.
It looks properly Christmassy, and I've filled with some sort of fizzy excitement. I've never really been that arsed about Christmas and strangely I've never felt joyful triumphant. Although, seeing the dining room set up in all its glory might just be getting me into the spirit. I suppose over the last year, I escaped to have been getting a bit same and it's the same story every year where I go. Now, for the first time, I'm enjoying being back home and experiencing a proper winter, complete chilly weather, warm jumpers and perfectly decked singing halls.
I suddenly can't wait for the rest of the family to get here, and for them to be all excited too. They're going to be thrilled when they see this room. They will be all marvel at how I've set it up so beautifully and ahead of schedule too. I grin. I miss having a festive feeling and still smiling proudly at myself.
The smile is wiped off my face when I hear the front door clattering shut.
I rush to the nearest window in time to see Regina and Henry walking away from the house, both huddled up in big coasts and heading for the gardens. No! I missed them! I meant to keep an ear out for them coming down the stairs then I was going to run into them in the foyer, casually ask where they're off to then accept Henry's kind offer to join them on a tour of the grounds. Henry would drag the tour out to over an hour, and Regina would have no choice, but to stick around for the duration, answering all my carefully selected questions along the way.
That would be the perfect plan, if I hadn't forgotten all about it while I faffed around with these tables. I can't chase after Regina and Henry then ask to tag along for the tour now. That's it! She dodged me again!
For a while I resign myself to watching the two of them as they trek across the lawn leaving boot prints in last night's snow. Regina keeps a careful distance from Henry the whole way. She has her arms pinned down at her sides, not letting them so much as brush her boyfriend's body. The only time she does touch him is to give him a playful little shove on the shoulder. Just enough flirting to keep him sweet, then right back to her straight-backed posture. She cranes her neck as they walk, taking everything in greedily. The huge lake holds her attention for the longest, as she stops to gawp at the evergreen foliage surrounding the water's edge and the small stone waterfall that feeds down to a lower, wider level of the lake. I am not surprised that she likes it so much, given that it is most expensive feature of our garden by far. My parents hired gardeners and several people to remodel the garden, chopped down several trees to make space.
I turn away suddenly. I can't stand watching her anymore. I leave the window and march out of the dining hall while leaving the pile of tablecloths behind.
When the front door swings open again about an hour later, I'm ready. I wander out of the ticket, eating left over monkey bread and into the foyer to meet Regina and Henry, armed with a simple plan. "Oh, hey, you two," I say. "Grandma is about to make some soup for lunch. Will you join me? Help warm yourselves up?"
"Ooh, soup would be great, mom," Henry says, rubbing his gloved hands together. "What do we have?"
"Grandma making carrot and coriander. Minestrone. Probably some French onions or something."
"What about you, Regina? Care to join us?"
"Oh." She pauses in the act of shrugging off her boxy black overcoat and glances around the hall. "No. None for me, thanks. I do want to eat right before we go swimming," then glances at Henry, "but you should go with Emma."
"You sure?"
Regina is walking around. Her heeled boots click on the wooden floors with each confident stride. She finally pulls her coat all the way off in one sharp pull as she reaches the stairs.
"I'll just grab my swimming costume," she throws over her shoulder.
No. I can't let her slip away again. I am running out of time before the rest of the family gets here to make everything ten times more complicated. Stop pussyfooting around and finally get to the action. Luckily, I came armed with a back-up plan in case soup failed me.
"Regina!" I call after her, "Would you like to go to a Christmas market with me?"
She pauses halfway up the stairs. Turns around to look down at me. I meet her gaze with my very sweetest smile.
"Today is the last day it's in town, and I really want to go. It's in town- only about ten minutes away. I thought you could come with and get any last-minute Christmas shopping sorted out?" I gesture sideways to him, but I keep my eyes fixed on Regina. I need her to agree on this. And surely she has to, to avoid appearing too rude. I keep smiling sweetly up at her. "We could head out after you've been swimming."
"The poor thing like a deer caught in headlights. Eyes round and wide, hand gripping the banister. "Yes," she says at last. "Yes, of course. That sounds lovely."
"Fantastic!" I finally break eye contact. "Henry?"
He shakes his head sadly, "I'd love to, but I have to work this afternoon. I have meeting that I cannot miss."
"Oh no! I guess we'll make it a girls' trip then, Regina. Give you something to do while Henry's locked away working!" Another innocent smile, "I'll meet you back down here in two hours." I want her to give herself time to swim and not to rush her at all. Yes!