Chapter 3: Welcome Dinner

Mabel's POV

I took a close look, and It was the one the lady had given me at the wedding.

It read: "Please look after my son and keep him safe, just as you would yourself.”.

A frown crept on my face. Was she mocking me? Who needed protection, he or I?

I squeezed it and let it drop to the floor. “It's nothing important,” I said dismissively.

*****

Standing in front of the huge mansion, my fingers clutched tightly on my purse.

“It's okay to be nervous, most first times are like that.” Nora nudged me.

Nervous? Who was nervous?

I glanced at her without saying a word. We had just met, so it was understandable to assume things.

“Lead the way,” I said curtly. She walked towards the main entrance and I followed behind.

She already told me that she was familiar with the place because her mother had worked for the Fergusons ever since she was a kid.

And Now, due to a situation she got caught up in, she found herself in the same position. She didn't delve into details and I couldn't care less.

Soon we entered a room that had a long dining table that looked like one that could be found in a boardroom. It was surrounded by about 15 chairs.

The table was so big, yet only 3 people were present. The groom, the mother, and the grandfather.

“Over here!” The woman exclaimed as soon as she set her eyes on me. She stood and held out the seat right next to her for me.

“Call me if you need anything,” Nora said in a tone only audible for me to hear. Before I could say, Jack, she was gone, I sighed.

“Thank you, ma'am,” I said as I made to sit.

“Oh please, just call me Emily.” She waved her hand in the air and returned to her seat.

She was being too cheesy and I felt quite uncomfortable. “Oh, okay” I forced a smile.

“You have no regard for your elders.” came the devil's voice. Our eyes locked and all I could see was hatred.

He leaned forward, his elbows on the table.

“You also have no sense of responsibility.” He added, as if taunting me.

“I'm right on time.” I countered. I didn't care if they'd been seated for about an hour or more; I got here exactly in time. I made it in time. I didn't tell anyone to be earlier than the arranged time.

“Cut her some slack. It's barely 12 hours and you're already stressing your wife.” Old Mr. Ferguson reprimanded.

“I see you liked your present.” He turned to me.

“I didn't have much of a choice,” I responded with my voice barely above a whisper.

Just then, I saw the servants trooping in with trays of a variety of dishes. In no time, the long table was occupied.

One of the servants made to serve me but Emily stopped her. “I'll do it”

“I hope the meals are to your liking, I put a lot of effort into this,” Emily stated as she carefully took a little portion from each dish and placed them before me.

“I appreciate the effort, Emily.” I thanked her genuinely.

The rest of the night was extremely boring. No music, no entertainment.

Nora made to show me around, but I was already tired; nothing else interested me.

I couldn't wait for 9pm so I could leave.

The clicking sound of heels caught my attention. I could tell I wasn't the only one surprised.

A woman, old enough to be Landon's grandmother, emerged from the dim light, in a fitted red gown and red heels.

She walked with so much elegance; what surprised me more was her ability to walk in such high heels at her age.

It's not like she was extremely old, but the lines on her face and forehead gave her away, despite all that make-up.

Her red lipstick glistened in the dark.

Her fingers were decorated with expensive stones, all in red. I wondered what her obsession with red was about.

Landon's eyes darkened.

“Why is she here?” He asked his grandfather who looked quite taken aback.

“Did I miss the party?” She kissed the old man gently on his cheek, and with a gentle rub on his head, she grabbed a glass of water. “God! I'm so thirsty.”

“Why are you here, Olivia?” the old man asked, his voice holding a hint of anger even though he tried to mask it.

I sensed something off in their moods, and somehow, it excited me because I was about to be entertained for real this time.

Finally! Some drama! I watched enthusiastically as everything unfolded.

“How do you mean?” She placed the empty glass back on the table and pouted. I must admit, despite her age, she was really beautiful.

“My grandson got married and you didn't think I was worthy of an invite? How could you treat me like an outcast?” She placed her palm on her chest dramatically. I guessed right, she was his grandmother.

I almost laughed out loud. This was so entertaining. This would be such an interesting story to report. Too bad, I couldn't do it.

I grabbed a glass of water and gulped down everything; I needed the energy; it's not every day you get to see a wealthy family fighting.

In a split second, she appeared behind me, pretty swift for her age.

“She's so pretty..“ she gasped, touching my shoulder, “You sure have eyes for good things, just like your grandfather.” she commended Landon, almost blushing at her own words.

I left out a tight-lipped smile.

“But you look oddly familiar.” She squinted, her gaze so intense that it could pierce one's spirit.

I could see Landon's gaze on her growing colder and colder, he leaned to his grandfather and whispered a few words, his gaze not leaving Olivia. The old man sighed.

I was curious, was there some kind of internal conflict in their home?

“I ask again, why are you here?” the old man sounded irritated this time.

“Because I have every right to be here,” Olivia replied, almost yelling.

“Didn't I tell you that I would let you know when the time’s right?” the old man questioned. “Why don't you ever listen?” he tried to restrain himself from yelling.

“We're family, why are you taking sides?

I made all this effort to celebrate an addition to this noble family and you choose to embarrass me in front of everyone, servants included.” She sniffed.

The servants who seemed to have forgotten themselves and become onlookers, scurried away.

I felt a little pity for her.

The old man sighed in frustration. “You should go back.”

Olivia's eyes widened in shock, I couldn't believe it too.

“Take the jet, that would be less stressful.”

The old man remained unfazed.

“Ho.. how do you mean? I just got here, why should I go back?”

“Because you acted on your own accord.” Old Mr. Ferguson clarified his tone void of emotion.

“Hurry up and leave.” He stood from his seat, “Dinner is over, everyone should get some rest.” With that, he walked toward the staircase.

Then he stopped, turning once again “Mabel, Landon will show you to your room.” Your room? Like singular ‘your’ or plural?

And why did it have to be Landon?

He turned to face the stairs, and continued,

“Olivia, there's no place for you here today, save your energy and leave,” he said with finality.

To say I was completely confused was an understatement.

There was grave silence and the tension in the room was palpable.

But it was soon interrupted by a deep masculine voice,

“She is not going anywhere!”