Grandpa's Party

Sam woke up with an overwhelming sense of dread. It took her a minute to lay a finger on the cause. The party at the family house.

"Ugh!" She groaned and buried her face in the pillow.

How she wished time could stand still. She was going to meet Desmond's family. She imagined all the men looking like Desmond and all the women looking like Stephanie. From the little she had learned about Desmond's kind of people, she knew she would be an eyesore.

She dragged herself off the bed and entered the bathroom. She was up early today. She guess Ann and Maggie are waiting outside to be the first to enter when it was time to wake up. She took the opportunity to have a quiet morning in the shower. She stood under the shower for several minutes until she heard the expected scuffle in the bedroom. The maids had barged in as usual. When she stepped back into the bedroom, she was greeted with a mess. The girls were scuffling on the bed. They were fighting over making the bed.

"Who made the bed last time," Sam asked

The maids stopped scuffling.

"I did," Maggie replied.

"Then Ann gets to do it this time," Sam said with finality.

Ann gleefully jumped to the task.

Sam went to the wardrobe and threw the door open. Maggie came to stand behind her. Sam took out a pair of black shorts and a yellow shirt. She turned and showed Maggie. She shrugged. Sam turned and went to the bed and left Maggie to close the wardrobe. On reaching the bed, Ann crashed into Sam's feet startling her.

"I just slipped," Ann smiled in embarrassment while she stood up.

"Obviously," Maggie smirked.

"You should be more careful Ann," Ann said with concern.

"And less clumsy," Maggie teased.

"Maggie!" Sam scolded. "It was an accident. It can happen to anyone."

"Yes, mistress."

She was about to start dressing up when she felt wet hands rubbing her bare shoulder. She looked up to see Ann applying cream to her skin.

"Seriously?" She sighed.

A few minutes later, Sam was having breakfast in the second-floor dining room. She was hysterical hearing that all three floors had one big dining room each. How many guests did the house get to feel they needed such big dining rooms?

After breakfast, the three girls took a stroll outside to show Sam around.

"Why, this place is a garden. There are so many plants," Sam wondered aloud.

"I heard this used to be the family house," Ann said.

"Senior master built this place. All the Landons were born here," Maggie said.

"How big is the Landon household," Sam asked curiously.

"Mr. Landon only had one child. Mr. Eric. That's our senior master," Maggie explained fondly.

"He must be a gentleman," Sam said judging by how fondly Maggie had spoken of him.

"Far from that." Ann scoffed. "He is mean actually."

"Because he threatened to shoot you?" Maggie sneered. "You spilled coffee on his white shirt!"

"I was nervous!"

"Awww… you poor thing," Maggie cooed.

"How many children does Mr. Eric have?" Sam interrupted them.

"Three, Gary is the oldest. Mistress Theresa is the second. Tim is the youngest" Maggie said.

"Where are they now?"

"Gary died some months back," Maggie said without emotions.

"Oh no! He must have been mean," Sam said judging from how blandly Maggie spoke of him.

"He was the sweetest," Ann cooed.

"He was boring," Maggie deadpanned.

"He would walk about the mansion anytime he came around and share candies while fist bumping everyone," Maggie slurred.

"That sounds like a lot of fun Maggie!" Sam exclaimed incredulously. "I wonder why you don't like him."

"Maggie only like the wicked," Ann said sweetly.

"Who is your favorite?" Sam asked.

"Mistress Theresa and her gorgeous! Gorgeous!! Gorgeous!!! Daughter," Maggie gushed.

"See? I told you," Ann muttered to Sam.

"You should see them at family gatherings mistress," Maggie gushed. "So sophisticated! They are the best, I tell you."

With every praise that came from Maggie for the mother and daughter duo, Sam felt more hopeless. How was she ever going to blend in? Maggie was right when she said she was going to stand out; just like an eyesore.

"Those Jezebels. Claire is the Darling," Ann said.

"Claire!" Maggie said distastefully.

"Who is Claire?" Sam asked.

"Master Tim's only daughter. The sweetest flower in the Landon household," Ann cooed.

"You've never seen her Ann," Maggie rolled her eyes.

"No, but I've heard such wonderful tales about her gentle beauty and heart."

Another beauty.

"And the Landon household is not some flower bed in a garden," Maggie said.

"Does the eldest not have children?" Sam asked.

"He is Master Desmond's father." They chorused.

Sam halted in surprise.

"Mr. Desmond lost his father?"

The maids look at her in surprise.

"You don't know your husband's father is dead?" Ann asked incredulously.

It was then Sam realized she had committed a blunder.

"I know." She laughed stiffly. "I was just pulling your legs."

The maids too smiled.

"So where is Sam's mother?" She asked to escape the awkwardness.

"You mean Lady Kay!" Maggie gushed fondly.

"Uh-oh!" Sam lamented. "She must be the worst of them all."

"You are right this time mistress. You get the gist," Ann muttered.

"She's the best mistress!" Maggie said.

"She's a gangster," Ann said quietly. "A bloody pirate."

"That's right Ann! The coolest of them all!"

"No, I see where all of Mr. Desmond's foul manners came from," Sam said thoughtfully.

"Didn't master tell you about his family?" Maggie asked cocking a suspicious brow.

"Well..." Sam was lost. "...we should head back now."

She spun on her heels and was startled by the presence of Terry and Gord. Maggie dramatically placed herself between the bodyguards and Sam.

"State your business!" She yelled.

The two stared at her for a moment.

"Does she work here?" Gord asks Terry calmly.

"She must be new," Terry replied.

Gord shook his head. Sam had moved forward and was now beside Maggie.

"You have a guest ma'am."

The two guards immediately left.

"Did they just say I have guests," Sam asked uncertainly.

"Yes, mistress."

They began to hurry back to the mansion.

Reaching the door, Sam already recognized Stella's voice. She was on the phone.

"Get it done, Willy! I don't pay you precious money to fail me no! I pay you to get things done! Get it done! How many times will I say done? Just make sure it's done before noon, or I'll..." She gasped in surprise.

"F*CK! The son of a Bitch hung up on me! Oh, I'm gonna get him! I'm gonna chop off his balls and feed them to him! I'm gonna..."

"You can just fire him."

She turned at the voice.

"Samantha!" She cooed then met her halfway and hugged her. "I missed you."

"I missed you too Stella," Sam said smilingly.

"Who was that on the phone," she asked.

"Some ass of a man."

Sam laughed.

"You needn't curse so much. Just fire the man."

"I'm afraid I can't."

"Why not? He's not getting things...done. And who hangs up on their boss like that."

"He's good at his job."

"You didn't sound like you were satisfied."

"I am never satisfied, Samantha," she said sweetly.

"Sit."

She invited although she did it more for her tired legs.

"How is business?"

"Booming! Desmond sent me to fetch you here."

Sam frowned in puzzlement.

"Where?"

"Out of this house."

"Why?" Sam was even more confused.

"Why would Desmond send me in particular to fetch you," she asked rolling her eyes.

"To make sure...I'm in safe hands?" Sam said uncertainly.

"Do I look like a bodyguard to you?! Well, you and I are going to get you makeover honey!"

"Over what," Sam asked, puzzled.

"Over you! Get your ass out here!"

Stella stood up, grabbed her bag, and walked herself out.

"I'd advise you to follow immediately," Terry said. "She'll be zooming out the gate next.

* * * * *

"Where is Mr. Desmond," Sam asked as they drove to their destination.

"In his bedroom or something. Why?"

"I didn't know he was back."

"Well next time you see those two fine bodyguards, know Des is around."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You shouldn't call him Mr. Desmond, you know. Call him Desmond or people will start thinking things."

Did Stella know their marriage was fake?

"I'll keep that too in mind."

"You can call him Des too, you can also call him something cute like baby, hubby..."

Stella went on recommending names but Sam had spaced out. Her mind was on the upcoming party. She hadn't even asked him when they were leaving. He had talked to her about behaving like a couple but she hadn't been listening. She had been busy ogling him.

"How should a couple behave," she cut into whatever Stella was talking about.

"Well..." Stella was lost trying to process what Sam had said.

"I just want to be a better wife to m...my husband."

"Uh… You want to spice things up huh?" Stella said suggestively.

"N... not quite. I mean publicly."

"You care about people seeing you as a happy couple than you being a happy couple?" Stella asked judgmentally.

Sam was about to fix the damage when Stella burst into laughter.

"You are just like me gurl! If there is no one watching, then it's not worth the hassle. And there I was the other day thinking you were a normal person."

At this point, Sam feared for her life because of the way Stella would take her hands and eyes off the road momentarily.

"Alright! Here are the tips."

She finally got to business after saying how much Sam was like her.

"When it comes to public display of affection, you must always follow your instincts."

Sam shook her head.

"Now tell me. What do you feel like doing when those dark hazel eyes catch the rays of the sun?"

"Well..."

Sam tried to think about something smart to say but she couldn't.

"Honestly, I just look."

"Good! Stare into these eyes like there are rainbows in them. Now, how do you feel when you see that muscled chest?"

"I... feel like being hugged?"

"Good girl!"

Now she was feeling like a bad girl and her cheek took a red tint.

"Hug him once in a while. Don't be too clingy though. Now how do you feel when you see those lips?"

"I..." Sam's cheeks grew really warm.

"You welcome gurl!" Stella laughed.

As Stella had said, she took Sam to a saloon where Sam was given a total makeover. Her nails were painted. Her hair ends were trimmed a styled in the body wave style she had seen on Stephanie. Her make-up was done, then Stella drove them to the boutique and forced a new dress on Sam even after she told her she had several dresses at home.

* * * * *

It was already five when Stella and Sam hit the road.

"I'm taking you straight to the family house," she announced.

"I thought Desmond..." Sam panicked.

"Desmond is there already."

It didn't ease her panic.

"I thought we were to walk in there together. Like a real couple."

"Well, I must confess I ignored his calls back in the saloon."

"Why?"

"I didn't want anything to interrupt your makeover sweets. I wanted you to look best."

Sam sighed in worry. How was she supposed to walk into a room full of elites on her own?

"Don't worry honey. I'm coming in with you."

Sam couldn't decide if that was a good idea.

"Please just don't say anything when we get there."

"I'll try."

A few moments later, they were entering the compound. Sam noticed how this mansion was slightly similar to Desmond's but smaller and much lesser yard space. You would have thought the family house would be bigger.

Sam stepped out of the car nervously. Stella had put her in a straight black knee-length skirt and a green teacup-sleeved blouse. Sam had complained about how the skirt restricted her knee but Stella told her she wasn't supposed to spread her knees while walking.

Stella had come out of the car and had turned to Sam's side.

"You look fabulous! There's nothing to fear! Let's go!"

Stella led the way but slowly with graceful, deliberate steps.

"Follow my lead," she guided.

Sam tried to. Though they were both wearing heels, Stella had opted for slightly high wedges for Sam since she wasn't very familiar with heels. The nude-colored shoe had sandal straps that went up all the way to almost the knee. They didn't feel very comfortable but she wasn't struggling at all.

Nearing the entrance, they could hear chatter from within. The guard at the front door bowed and opened the door. Stella made way for Sam to step in first. She took a bracing breath, held her chin high, and stepped in.