Blood & Butlers Page 4

  “Holy fringe top, Batman.” I mock softly with a smile.

  It's nice to see pictures like this of her. She didn’t have many photos at home, and this proved how I always thought she was a flower child. My eyes scan the fringed top that stopped at her waist and then to the big round glasses she was wearing. She had her left hand up with a peace sign standing in front of a monument. I looked closer to see where she was. Frowning, I turn it over and see flawless handwriting that reads, “Lincoln Memorial, Summer ‘78”. I did the math and realize she's only eighteen in this picture.

  Smiling, I place the picture to the side to put it somewhere safe. I pick up a few more laughing at the clothing and hairstyles but stop at one photo. This one is in color. It was my mother dressed nicely in a navy-blue jumpsuit that fit with the 70s wavy hairstyle she was rocking. To the right of her was a man dressed sharply in a black suit. His hair was short, slicked back, and was as dark as his suit. His smile was gentle, and the way he looked at my mother, it wasn’t hard to figure out that this was my father.

  Seeing him is the first time that I was able to see any evidence of what my father looked like. Right away, I can see the resemblance of the genetics’ he passed down to me. We share the same brown eyes and the dimples in our cheeks when we smile. In a way, it is nice to be able to put a face to the man I fantasized about for most of my life. However, seeing these photos still leaves me bitter with the events leading up to this moment.

  Turning the picture over the date says, “Mayor’s Ball 1978”. My mom was eighteen in this photo too. It's crazy to see photos like this. At home, we only had pictures of her and myself as I grew up. There were no pictures of her like these.

  I put the picture down with the others and stare at the box once more. I try to pry open the lid with my bare hands, but the lock is too secure. I grab the letter opener that is on the desk and try to carefully wedge the blade between the crease of the lid and box. However, it won’t budge. Picking up the item, I close one eye and attempt to peer through the keyhole. I want to see what's in there so bad that it's starting to annoy me that I can't open it. Why did the box have to be locked in the first place?

  “I brought you something miss,” calls out an unexpecting voice.

  I nearly jump out of my skin as Darren enters the room. The locked box tumbles from my hands and onto the pile of papers. My heart beats so hard that it's going to give me cardiac arrest.

  I notice Darren is fighting to hide his smile as he places a silver tray down with a white mug filled with a dark brown liquid and a small plate of cheesecake. I pick up the cup and take a whiff. The sweet smell of coffee washes over me and relaxes my tense shoulders.

  “I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee, so I brought cream and sugar as well.” He states as he starts to pick up the papers on the floor.

  “Black is fine,” I reply.

  He stands back up and smiles, putting the papers on the desk in a neat pile. “That’s how your father liked his coffee, as well.”

  It is clear to me that this amuses him, but I'm not. I immediately stop sipping my coffee and place the cup back down on the platter. This time I pick up my fork and begin to eat my cheesecake as Darren starts to speak again.

  “I see you aren’t fond of your father.”

  My eyes dart up at him and lock onto his eyes. He stares at me with such intensity, as if he is trying to figure out what I am going to say next.

  “I can’t be fond of someone if I don’t know them,” I comment.

  Darren nods and puts his hands on the desk, leaning towards me as I lean back. I can practically smell the mint toothpaste he uses as he inches forward.

  “No. I suppose you can’t. However, some of us know people well and still aren’t fond of them,” he replies.

  I stay silent as he continues.

  “Your father was a remarkable man. He was smart, kind, and did what he could to help others. When my mother died, and my father left, your father was there to give me a home, food, and the discipline a young man needed. In return, I offered my employment. He was a good man and loved you and your mother very much.”

  “It must have been nice that he was able to give someone else a life that he had no responsibility for. If he loved us so much, then why did he leave?!” I snap.

  Who is he for trying to make me feel guilty? My father left us, and as a slap to the face, he left a manor to say ‘sorry.’ No amount of money can heal the wounds I suffered from him not being there, and nothing can bring my mother back.

  Darren must have sensed my frustration or seen it in my face as he stood back up and placed his hands behind his back.

  “I beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth. I don’t know why he did what he did, and it was not right of me to say such things. Please forgive me.”

  I roll my eyes and pick up my plate with the cheesecake, shoving a huge piece in my mouth. Damn, this is good. Eating is the only way to distract myself and not ball my eyes out to a guy I just met. No to mention I’m pretty sure he isn’t from this planet. He acts strangely. Then again, I never really had a butler before. Did they all work like this?

  I realize snapping at Darren isn't the best way to release my stress. It isn’t his fault, and he is kind enough to bring me cheesecake. Which, coincidentally, is my favorite.

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry for being rude to you.” I apologize and grab my coffee to take a sip.

  Darren relaxes a little and smiles again. “It’s quite alright.”

  I gaze at him, wondering just where he came from exactly. It's obvious, from his accent, that he isn't from around here and his manors are way too proper. It's like he is from an old-timey movie or something.

  “I have to run to the store for some last-minute things for dinner. Is there anything you need?” He asks, breaking my train of thought.

  I think for a moment and decide there isn’t, but I need to get some fresh air. Being in this stuff room is enough to make me sick. “No, but why don’t I go with you? I could use some fresh air, and I can help you carry bags in,” I say, standing up.

  He seems surprised by my remark and looks slightly confused. Finally, he came to his senses just as I pick up my now empty cup.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he quickly says as he grabs my hand gently to stop me from moving.

  We stare at each other for a solid minute as he manages to loosen my grip from the plate.

  “I can take care of that,” he smiles, enchanting me at the moment.

  This encounter is the second time now that I am at a loss for words. It has to be something about Darren's gentle nature, or it might be the fact that my interactions with guys are slim to none. He grabs the plate from my hands, never breaking eye contact with me.

  “You are the mistress of the household now. I can’t have you take my job away from me. For now, anyway.” He says as his lip quirks up mischievously before walking away.

  I'm so flustered I could scream. My face grew hot as I sit back to replay what Darren said in my mind. The guilt is starting to eat at me again. If I am going to sell the manor, then Darren would lose his job and home. However, I have to be realistic here. This place was too big for me. Not to mention, I don’t have the financial means to keep paying Darren, or whoever else lives here. My father probably set up an account for them before he died, and it might be running out. This possible situation only meant two things; I have to do something with the manor soon, and I can't get attached to anything or anyone.

  When I finally decide to leave the study, I shove the box back into the drawer of the desk. I will figure everything out tomorrow. Trying to tackle all of this is too much for one day. Slowly, I shut the door behind me and make my way to the foyer to wait for Darren. I am dreading the fact that I am going to have Darren in my car. Besides Amy and my mother, no one else was ever in my car, and I honestly didn’t want to deal with any judgmental looks today. I knew my car is old, but no one else would understand.

  I guess w
hat I am wearing was acceptable for grocery shopping, but I want to grab my phone and wallet before we leave. As I round the corner, I bump into something hard, like a pole or statue.

  Blinking, I took a step back and came face to face with a stranger. He is tall and super thin. His hair is whiter than snow and looks like he could be a hundred years old. Maybe two. I swallow hard as my heart races nervously, and I take another step back.

  “I’m so sorry,” I stammer.

  He bows to me without saying anything at first. As he stands up straight, he grins at me from ear to ear. “It’s quite alright, madam. You must forgive this old man. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  I've never been bowed to before and don’t know how to react; this is the second time in one day. I stand there, awkwardly and shrug my shoulders.

  “It’s not a problem. It was an accident,” I smile.

  The older gentleman nods and stares at me for a moment. He opens his mouth as if he is going to speak, but Darren cuts him off. “Reginald! I see you finally met our new mistress."

  Darren quickly changed into regular clothing. He is wearing a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt with a park of black boots. He looks like some wannabe biker bad boy. For some strange reason, it suits him.

  Reginald’s warm voice brings me back to my senses as I look at him while he speaks. “I had a feeling this was our new mistress. She has the young master’s eyes,” he grins.

  He must be referring to my father because I am unaware of any other ‘young master’ that might be in his home.

  Reginald began to bow again to show gratitude, and I quickly shake my head and wave my hands to stop him. “Please! You don’t have to bow to me. I’m not that kind of person, and besides, it makes me feel uncomfortable.”

  Reginald looks taken aback. “Not the kind of person?! With all due respect, ma’am, you deserve nothing but the highest respect. It is your god-given right, your birthright!” He boasts with much pride.

  I am pretty sure that sweet Reginald is probably losing his marbles, which makes the reality of selling the manor even harder.

  Darren is growing uncomfortable and steps between us. He places a gentle hand on my shoulder and starts to push me towards the front door. “Reginald has a lot of work to do. Don’t you, Reginald?”

  The older man blinks and then nods as if he suddenly realized what is going on. “Oh, yes. I have to dust and reorganize the library again,” he laughs, mostly to himself as he hurries away.

  Was everyone in this place crazy? They all act as if it is a different era. What is Reginald saying about my birthright? I try to keep my swarming head full of questions at bay as I rush to my room and grab my shoes. Darren rushes me out the door, and I realize I forgot my phone and wallet. I only hope Amy understands about any text message delays.

  “We better hurry before it starts to rain. If there is one thing I don’t tolerate, it’s a wet floor after it rains,” Darren sighs.

  I say nothing as he pulls keys from his pocket and presses one of the buttons. A loud beep and the roar of an engine come from the side of the building. Curiosity gets me, and I follow Darren to the sound. There is a dip in the wall revealing a covered carport that sits back from the front of the home.

  A sleek, black, four-door, BMW hums softly as we approach. The car is so shiny that it looks showroom new. Was this his car?! The more I am learning about Darren and the manor, the more confused I become.

  “Is this yours?” I ask with an impressed smile.

  Darren chuckles, his eyes looking at my face in amusement.

  “No. It’s yours. This car was used to take your father around town. Now that you are the new owner, this is yours,” he explains.

  I am in complete shock. I don’t think my mouth can close anymore. It's bad enough that I have the manor but now this car? Just what did my father do in life?

  Darren opens the back passenger door and makes me sit in the back. He wouldn’t let me sit in the front and argued with me, saying that a proper young lady doesn’t sit in the front seat. He needs a news flash because this is the 21st century, and I have every right to sit in the front.

  I did my best to not argue with him and keep my eyes on the trees that slide by in my window. The tall oak trees tower over the tiny car as he continues to drive and stop at a stop sign.

  “Darren…what was my father?” I ask absentmindedly.

  The question hung thick in the air. I can see out of the corner of my eye that his hands tense around the steering wheel. His knuckles turn white as he looks back to me through the review mirror.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” he replies, keeping his eyes on mine.

  For a moment, I begin to worry as he didn’t look at the road once. He keeps his eyes on mine and manages to keep the car steady down the highway.

  I try looking away by shrugging my shoulder, moving my body closer to the front seats. I lean in the middle of them silently, wishing Darren will look back at the road. To my luck, he focuses again on what is in front of him when I got comfortable.

  “You know, what was he? What was his job? To be able to afford a manor, fine cars, and to have hired help, it’s hard to believe he was able to afford it in this small town,” I explain.

  Darren relaxes, and the thick, awkward blanket that surrounds us slowly disappears.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t ask earlier. Your father was a very successful politician. He worked in the town hall and eventually worked his way up to congress. He specialized in human rights and the environment. That was where he met your mother. I don’t know all the details, but I’m certain it was there. Soon your father came into some financial investments and bought the manor.”

  I let out a silent breath of relief now that the fear of my father being a mob boss is gone. It makes sense now, but one thing that I didn’t understand was why he still left. For the remainder of the drive, I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to add any more awkward moments. I settle back into my seat eventually, and my eyes examine all the tall buildings that fly past my window.

  Five

  The entire ride to the grocery store is painfully quiet. Darren didn’t say two words to me after I stopped asking about my father. As soon as the car is in a parking spot, he hops out and opens my door. It catches me off guard, and I didn't know how to respond.

  “Um, thanks,” I say quietly.

  Darren only curtly nods.

  We walk in silence into the store. Darren grabs a cart and pulls out a shopping list from his back pocket. Trying to break the silence between us, I give him a small smile. “So why did you change clothes?”

  Slowly he pushes the cart down an aisle and begins to grab items that are needed. “Well, I highly doubt a butler suit would be appropriate in public,” he earnestly smirks.

  I nod, knowing that he is probably right. A suit would cause too much attention. As if it wasn't shocking enough to have a father leave a manor behind for their abandoned daughter. To be walking around with someone in a suit would be too much for me today.

  Just as we were about to turn the corner of the pasta aisle, I am grabbed from behind. Long, thin arms firmly hold onto me. I squirm a little in panic as the air leaves my lungs. Darren swiftly moves to my side and raises a hand to strike the attacker but stops.

  “Lizzy! What a coincidence that I would bump into you here!”

  A smile crosses my face as my fleeting moment of panic starts to subside. I recognize the voice instantly and begin to wiggle from her grasp.

  “Amy! What are you doing here?”

  I'm happy and relieved to see my best friend. It feels like its years, but it was only a couple of weeks since I last saw her.

  Amy grins and pushes her bangs from her short, blonde hair and places her hands on her hips. “I just got into town and wanted to buy snacks for tonight. We’re still watching a movie later, right?”

  “Yeah, we still can. I’m not at the hotel, though. Actually, there’s a lot we need to talk about.” I al
most forgot about the plans I promised her. With trying to get things situated with my mom’s house and school, I kind of neglected her. It was the reason why I asked her to come to Virginia so we could spend some time with each other.

  Amy smiles brightly as her blue eyes slowly shift to Darren. I can just feel the parade of questions I am going to receive. Darren stares back at her in almost disgust but smiles when I look at him.

  “Oh, this is Darren. And this is Amy,” I explain, introducing the two of them.

  Darren smiles even more and nods. “Pleasure to meet you. Madam, why don’t you catch up with your friend, and I will gather the groceries for tonight.”

  Even though Darren is confusing, I am thankful for some alone time with Amy. There is so much I want to tell her, and I feel like I am going to explode.