Meeting the Family

Ann had woken up with a crumbling stomach and had left the room groggily. The place had been so quiet like it would be in Desmond's house after the servants were done with the morning chores.

Listening closely, she could hear voices down the hall. She followed the voices from the hallway till she saw an open door. She could hear now. Desmond was talking.

When she came into view of the doorway, the first person she saw was an old man. He was sitting at the head of the table. while the rest sat to his left and right.

Desmond was the first to the man's left. The next seat was empty. On the third seat sat a teenage girl. On the right were Desmond's aunt, her daughter, his uncle, and his wife. Sam guessed that part.

Desmond was telling them something that happened in Japan that seemed to be displeasing to the people on the right side. It was later that she realized they were discussing her.

She was going to retreat as quietly as she had come before the old man saw her. His face lit up with a smile.

"Come on," he encouraged kindly when Sam hesitated.

She entered and made a beeline for the empty seat beside Desmond while avoiding the others' scrutiny. Desmond stood up and pulled her chair out for her. She sat.

It became quiet around the table. Sam peered at those in front of her. They were watching without blinking. Desmond crept closer to her ear.

"Chin up," he whispered, then kissed her cheek. Her blood sizzled.

Sam tried desperately to leash her shyness. She looked up, then looked them in the eye, one after the other, ending with Eric.

"Happy birthday, Mr. Landon," she said.

He nodded with a smile.

"I thought you wouldn't be gracing us with your presence today," Sam smiled shyly.

"I was just taking a short nap."

"Before greeting the family?" Theresa sneered.

"She's here now," Desmond said.

"Pa, this is my wife, Sam. Sam, this is my grandfather." After saying that, he went back to his food. The rest of the dinner exchanged looks.

"Won't you introduce us?" Bianca asked.

"Sam was supposed to greet the family and not everyone." His uncle's wife blinked at his rudeness.

"And we are not family?" she asked.

"I forget sometimes but I am hungry. Introduce yourself if you want to." He resumed eating.

"I am not eager to be your family any more than you are, nor is mine," Timothy sneered.

"We don't have crime and thuggery in our genes. That Russian bitch should know your family."

"Ignore him!" Sam told Desmond aloud, to everyone's surprise.

Sam had noticed how Desmond stilled when Timothy began to talk. After he dropped the last line, it was obvious Timothy wanted Desmond to attack him, which was working till she spoke.

Desmond was about to spring out of his seat into Timothy's face but stopped at Sam's words. Not out of obedience, but out of surprise. That was the bravest thing he'd ever witnessed from her.

"What did you say?" Timothy asked with knitted teeth.

"Tim!" Eric snapped. "I won't take any nonsense from you again!"

"Why are you scolding him, Pa?" Desmond started it!" Rhonda chipped in.

"And, you little piece of shit!" she faced Sam. "How dar..."

"Go to your room, Rhonda!" Eric snapped.

Her jaw dropped dramatically.

"What?! I'm not a child, Pa!"

"Are you talking back at me?"

Rhonda groaned and left dramatically.

"I don't want to hear any sassy remarks here! You won't ever give me peace! Even on my birthday!"

Everyone muttered some sort of apology and returned to their meal. Desmond picked up the empty plate in front of Sam and dished some rice for her, then handed her a regular table spoon. Sam began to eat the rice.

After a few mouthfuls, she picked up the chicken in her left hand and took a huge bite, smearing her mouth with sauce.

"That's it!"

Theresa stood up and left. Sam looked up, confused. Timothy followed too. So did Paige. Getting to the door Paige turned with a frown.

"Claire!"

Claire rolled her eyes before standing up. She went round to Eric's side and kissed his cheek before following her mother.

"She's the sanest of them all," Eric said fondly.

"She sure is." Desmond shrugged.

"If it weren't for her, I would have been dead a long time ago."

"At least you are old enough now," Desmond deadpanned.

Sam looked at him.

"Are you surprised? This young man would celebrate my death," Eric said light-heartedly. "That won't get you Javo, you know? My will is somewhere in Mr. Zach's office."

Mr. Zach was the family's lawyer. Sam felt sorry for the old man.

"This boy wouldn't come to see me back when he was in Japan. I had to lose a son to see him again."

The bitter note in his voice was unmistakable.

"Samantha, you must know who your husband is."

"Sam and I are retiring early," Desmond interrupted.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin, then took Sam's hand. Sam followed him reluctantly.

"Shouldn't you be trying to please him?"

Sam asked immediately after they entered their room, and Desmond slammed the door behind them.

"If I get too soft with him, he'll suspect I'm trying to manipulate him."

"And telling him he is now old enough to die is just soft enough," she said sarcastically, facing away.

"It's none of your business," he said, pulling off his shirt and dumping it on the bed.

"What were you doing in Japan?" She asked, turning around and frozen at the sight of his bare torso. She looked away subtly.

"Just do your job, Miss Denis," he said blandly.

"Well, it's too hard when I am kept in the dark," she said indignantly, to his face.

"I knew nothing about your family till this morning...and you weren't the one telling me."

Sam was frowning at him, her green eyes narrowed in indignation. Desmond moved closer to her, but she didn't back down and kept staring at his face.

He noticed how her hair looked lush and bouncy and not the matted mop it was the day he'd met her on the street.

Stella did a great job.

"It's your job to do the research," he said.

She huffed and tried to turn away, but he stopped her by holding her back by the shoulder.

"It was brave of you to kiss your boss in front of so many people."

Sam blushed.

She spat out, "You told me to behave like a couple."

"And here I thought all you knew about a couple was holding hands in the streets; tell me, Samantha, how experienced are you in matters of romance?"

"I don't know anything, Mr. Desmond. I was only following instructions," she fidgeted.

He smirked.

"Your actions spoke of a lot of experience."

At this point, all Sam wanted was to be buried. She shrugged his hand off and strode to the wardrobe. It was then that Desmond noticed she was wearing his shirt.

"You are warming up to your wifely role, ain't you?"

Sam glared at him cluelessly.

"That's my shirt."

"You can have it back after I change."

She took the things she had chosen and went into the bathroom.

Desmond sat on the bed with a grin. Sam was so full of surprises. trembling in his arms with nervousness one minute, then kissing him in the next. Facing the floor in the presence of his family one moment and telling him to ignore them to their faces the next Who knew what she was going to do next?

He could hear the shower running. In a few minutes, she was out, wrapped in a towel. He went to the bathroom too.

When he came back, she was already in bed. The farthest end of the bed with the duffle pulled high to her chin. Desmond got under the sheet next to her, not bothering to make much distance.

* * * *

Sam was jolted awake by an impact. She found herself on the floor next to the bed.

"That's what you get when you stay too close to the edge of the bed."

She looked up at the sound of Desmond's deep, lazy voice. He was in the closet, combing his hair and looking in the mirror. It was already morning, and Desmond was already dressed in a black shirt and pants.

Sam got up fast, still feeling disoriented from sleep.

"Good morning, Mr. Desmond," she greeted groggily.

"Get yourself ready fast. Breakfast will be served in a minute."

Sam ran into the bathroom. To save time, Desmond personally selected the clothes she was to wear.

Running out of the bathroom, Desmond handed her the clothes.

"Hurry up," he said and walked out.

Sam stared at the clothes. It looks like someone is warming up to his role too. She wore blank pants and a green crop top. She hurriedly put her hair in a bun, put on her shoes, and hurried out. She was startled by Desmond's presence outside.

"You are still here?"

"We are a couple. We should stick together. He said with a grin.

Sam took the hand he offered and let him lead her.

"This mansion is very similar to yours in a way."

"What way?"

"Like how it gets very lively and busy with servants going up and down, and then quiet and empty the other time."

"It has been the way of the family for a long time. The servants do their chores and go back to their quarters. In that way, we achieve three things. The servants get time to do personal stuff, we get more privacy and don't grow too dependent on their services."

Sam nodded in understanding.

When they entered the dining room, only the old man was seated in his place. The table was already laid and Eric had started eating.

"Good morning, Pa," Desmond greeted as he took his seat beside Eric.

"Good morning, Mr. Landon," Sam greeted and sat next to Desmond.

Eric didn't respond. Sam thought he hadn't heard and was going to repeat herself when Desmond stopped her by placing a hand on her arm.

"He heard you," he said quietly.

They had breakfast in silence, and none of the other members of the family joined in. What was making Eric so withdrawn?

"Where is your precious daughter-in-law? Didn't she come to wish you a happy birthday?" Desmond chided.

He hoped he could get the old man out of his foul mood, but Eric only looked at him over the rim of his cup and continued stirring it with a spoon.

"You shouldn't tease your grandfather so much, Mr. Desmond," Sam said gently.

Eric's teacup froze in its ascent to his lip. Sam's heart thundered.

"Mr. Desmond," Eric repeated.

"Habits die hard. She used to call me that before... you know?" Desmond winked suggestively.

Eric quietly continued eating.

After they were done eating, Desmond held Sam's hand again.

"See you around, old man," he said as they headed towards the door.

"My precious daughter-in-law, as you like to put it, will be here by noon."

Desmond turned to look at him. Then left, pulling Sam along.

* * * *

"Get your things. We are leaving," he commanded immediately, as they burst into the room.

Sam was clueless as to why he was so angry and, in a hurry to leave, but it was good for her. Every moment here kept her on edge. She found the bags in the wardrobe and began to fold her things inside. In twenty minutes, they had already hit the road.

"Why are we running away from her?" Sam asked in the car.

"We are not. I just can't stand her," Desmond replied.

That's why he was running. What's the difference? Sam thought.

"Who is she?"

"My stepmother," Sam gasped.

"You have a stepmother?"

"I just said that!" He snapped.

Sam immediately sat up in her seat. For a while, the car became silent.

"You can call me Desmond in private," he eventually said. "I don't want to risk you calling me master to your grandfather's ears again."

The car stopped in front of Desmond's mansion, and the two stepped off and headed inside. The house was empty. It was almost noon then. The servants must have been done with their chores and gone to their quarters.

Reaching inside, Sam saw a woman in a straight black knee-length dress on the couch. The woman smiled at her. Sam had never seen her before. She heard Desmond stop behind her.

"What are you doing here, Paige?" Desmond growled.

The woman smiled calmly.

"Lest you forget, this is my husband's house."