by Teisha Mott
"Really?" Andie was curious. She never imagined that Jeremy had a sister. She realised that she knew nothing about his family, except that his father was on the Supreme Court. "How old is she?"
"Seventeen. She just finished lower sixth at Mount Alvernia, and for the record, your cousin Klao is her hero!"
"Really?" Andie raised one eyebrow. "How come?"
Jeremy shrugged. "Beats me. All I know is that I have spent the last five years or so hearing about how cool Klao Persaud is and how nicely she dresses, and that Klao Persaud was going to Law School. That might explain why she decided that she wanted to go to Law School as well.”
"Well that’s really cute!" Mrs Persaud smiled. "Klao would be pleased to know she’s a role model. You can tell her when you see her at Ravi’s birthday party tomorrow night.”
Samantha snapped to attention. “Say what now?”
“We added Jeremy’s name to the guest list for the party tomorrow night,” her mother repeated.
This was a joke! Samantha thought. It had to be a joke. Why would her mother do something like that? Didn’t she realise that this was Jeremy Malcolm? Did everybody suddenly forget that this was the creature that had gotten her drunk and pregnant. Why was it that, all of a sudden, because he was all polite and smiling that they felt they needed to be nice to him?
“No!” She flung down her fork. “He isn’t coming to Grandpa’s party! Why would you invite him, Mommy?”
“Samantha just try to calm down and stop acting like a child!” Mrs Persaud frowned. “It makes perfect sense that he comes to the party. That way he can meet everybody…”
“Why does he have to meet everybody? I told you, just like I told him that I don’t want him to be a part of this. Why are you forcing him on me?”
“Why do you insist on being mean?” Jeremy ventured.
“You just shut up!” She screamed, making Jeremy sorry he had not just kept his mouth shut and watch her argue with her parents. “Why you are even here in the first place?”
“Yeah, you know what,” Jeremy returned. “I had absolutely nothing better to do than to come here and have you insult me all evening. Whoopee! This is my dream come true.”
“Jeremy…” Dr Persaud began.
“Oh please!” Samantha interrupted. “People like you grow and thrive on controversy. You get a kick out of being here knowing fully well you aren’t wanted. I wish you’d just go home!”
“Go home?” Jeremy asked. Is that your panacea for everything, Samantha?”
“Stop!” Dr Persaud interjected once more.
Samantha pushed back her chair. “I’m not going to pretend that I want you here!” She yelled. “I didn’t send for you!”
"That’s because you are too selfish and self-absorbed..."
“Don’t you even begin to lecture me about being selfish, you pompous, skirt-chasing…” She ran out of insults. “You know, I really don’t like you!”
Dr Persaud threw down his fork. “Shut the hell up!” He roared.
There was sudden silence at the table. Rosilda, on her way to clear the dishes so Theresa could serve desert made a U-turn back to the kitchen. Andie snuck a peek at her father. He had turned red with rage, and the vein in his forehead was bulging. She had not seen that vein since he had asked Dennis, their handyman to wash his Mercedes SUV and Dennis had taken it on a joy ride, and managed to run it into the gate post on the way back. Andie was sure her father would have killed him.
“Andrew...” Mrs Persaud squeezed his hand, subliminally begging him to keep his cool.
He took a deep breath. “There is no shouting in my house, and there is especially no shouting at my dinner table!” He said calmly.
“But Daddy, I…” Samantha began.
“Samantha, shut it!” Dr Persaud repeated, and Samantha knew she better stop.
“Do you think that when you yell and snipe like a couple of basic school children that you’re acting like two people who can actually raise a child?”
Jeremy glanced at Samantha, then at Andie, wondering if the question was rhetorical. He had enough experience with his father to know that if the question was rhetorical and he answered, he would be in deep crap; and if it wasn’t rhetorical and he didn’t answer, he would be in equally deep crap. As Samantha did not offer a response, he thought it wise to do the same.
"Jeremy, you do not come into my house and talk to my daughter that way. Don't you have any manners whatsoever?"
Jeremy felt like slime. He could not look at Dr Persaud. What a brilliant first impression he was making. "I lost my temper, Sir. I'm sorry..."
"Sorry isn't strong enough a word to describe you Jeremy!" Dr Persaud responded.
"Amen!" Samantha murmured.
“Samantha…”
She looked at her father.
“Sweetheart, I know you don’t like him,” he continued. “I get it. But here is the rub – from your own admission all of this is more your fault than it is his!”
“Daddy!” Samantha was incredulous.
“And at least he’s here and willing to work out the mess you both got yourselves into, instead of disappearing into the wind like I am sure the half a brain he has told him to do. So if you know what is good for you, you better stop being a damn prima donna and cooperate, because whether you like it or not, he's a part of this.
Samantha could not believe what her father was saying to her. She looked at him. She looked at her mother and her sister and her brother. She looked at the man who was going to be the father of her first and perhaps only child. This was unbelievable. Everybody was taking his side. She stood.
“Where are you going?” Christopher asked. “Dinner isn’t over!”
“I lost my appetite! Excuse me.”
“Sam…” Andie began, as Samantha headed towards the stairs.
“Let her go, Andie,” she heard her mother say.
Samantha stormed to her bedroom and threw herself across the bed. Two tears finally meandered down her face. How did she get here? She wondered. When did she suddenly stop being Samantha Persaud? When did life suddenly start to suck for the perfect girl? Two more tears quickly followed the first two. Samantha hugged her pillow, and allowed a sob to escape her throat. Forget Micah telling her he didn’t love her any more. Forget waking up in Jeremy’s bed. Forget taking the First Response test and seeing the positive result. Forget that evening when Andie had blurted out what was truly going on. All those moments were just the beginning of the end. This was now the end. This is what rock bottom felt like. As at that moment, it was not possible for her life to get any worse. She buried her face in the pillow and cried as though she would never again stop.
145
Just Perfect!
chapter eight
Saturday, May 31
"I brought you something to eat!"
Samantha turned around, and found herself looking at Jeremy Malcolm, looking too much like Tyson Beckford on the runway, in dark grey distressed pants and blazer with light grey pinstripes and a black cotton shirt with white topstitching. The blazer had a notched collar, and the pants were straight legged and flat front, and they seemed to be moulded to every inch of his toned, tight body. Samantha felt her mouth go dry. She could not help but stare at him. It was unfathomable that one man could be so totally stunning.
She quickly caught herself. “Why are you talking to me?”
“Because you look bored,” Jeremy told her. "And hungry. I haven't seen you eat anything all evening and you have to eat!"
Samantha looked at the plate he had fixed her. It was piled with four-cheese pates, salmon tarts and one of each from the sushi spread that she had been salivating over earlier. Was he a complete moron, she wondered.
"For your information, Einstein, I cannot eat any of what is on that plate, unless you want me to have a mutant baby with six eyes and three legs!" She snapped, walking away.
Jeremy frowned at the plate. He knew that there were some things that pregnant women couldn't
eat, but he wasn't sure what was on the list. She couldn't eat cheese and salmon? They looked healthy enough, and salmon was brain food. He would have to do some research on the internet later, but in the meantime, he was not going to let Samantha escape. She had been dodging him all evening. He followed her.
“Well, I am sure you can have this. It's just fresh fruit. I watched the bartender blend it especially for you– very good for you and good for the baby too. Here…”
Samantha looked at him. He was smiling at her, showing off his dimples, and holding out a glass of what appeared to be blended fruit punch, complete with a tiny umbrella stuck to the rim of the glass.
“I suppose you want a prize!” She said tartly.
“I would settle for you talking to me like a civilised person for a while!”
“In that case, keep your stupid drink!” She walked away again, and Jeremy followed her, drink in hand.
“C’mon, Sam… Why do you insist on being difficult?”
“Why do you insist on harassing me?”
“I’m not harassing you,” Jeremy clarified. “I’m trying to be nice to you.”
“Well, stop trying so hard!” Samantha advised, taking her drink from him. “It makes you look needy, and I don’t like needy people.”
“Is that why you don’t like me? Because you think I’m needy?”
“That’s just one of the many, many reasons! Go away!”
He still followed her. “When do you have to see the doctor again? I want to take you…”
“You know what you could do for me that I would really appreciate?” Samantha asked him. “What would really, really make me happy?”
“What?”
“You could get away from me before someone sees us talking and thinks we are friends!”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. He wondered how many times in the night she would tell him to go away or leave her alone. He would start to count as of now.
"Do you know when we will know if it is a boy or a girl?"
"No!"
"Andie and Christopher are dead set on a boy. What do you want?"
“To not have a baby!”
“Well, you should have thought about that before you didn't take the Plan B like I told you," Jeremy pointed out.
“Really helpful, Jeremy!” Samantha scoffed. “Go talk to Phillip, and explain to him how you lied about sleeping with me and leave me alone."
She turned away from Jeremy and almost bumped into her grandparents, James and Joyce Moreno.
“I was standing there with your grandmother when I saw this unusually gorgeous young woman walking across the room!” Grandpa James related, as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “And I said, ‘Joyce, isn’t that girl a gem? Isn’t she simply divine? Who is she? An angel on loan to us for the night?’ And she said, ‘Don’t be silly, James. It’s our granddaughter.’ And I thought she must be lying, because by no stretch of the imagination could a man like me be so lucky as to have a granddaughter as beautiful as you!”
Samantha smiled. Grandpa James always made those little speeches. It was his way of telling her she looked nice.
“Hello, Grandpa, hello Grandma!”
Joyce Moreno kissed her other cheek. “Hello darling. Your grandfather can be such a tool. I’m sorry to hear that you suffered a bout of retrograde amnesia!”
“What are you talking about, Grandma?” Samantha asked.
“Well, since you have been home from NYU for nearly a month now, and you couldn’t deign to pay your grandfather and me a visit, one must assume that you had amnesia and forgot that we existed!” Grandma Joyce explained.
“I’m sorry, Grandma, but the past few weeks have been so perplexing, and …”
“What could have possibly perplexed you to the point that you could not have spared an afternoon to call on us?” Grandma asked.
“I’ve been busy, Grandma…”
“Really? Were you taking over a developing country? Were you on a mission trip in Darfur? Had the CIA sent you off to find Osama Bin Laden? What world changing life or death matter could have held your attention and kept you so busy that you could not even pick up the phone and say ‘Hello Grandma. I’m home from NYU for the entire summer. I’m still alive and I’m happy to know that you and Grandpa are alive too.’? Hmm, Samantha?”
Samantha blushed. Her grandmother was glaring at her. Jeremy noticed, and decided to rescue her.
“Good evening, Mr Moreno, Mrs Moreno,” he said. “I’m Jeremy Malcolm…”
Grandma Joyce looked him up and down as though he was something she had found under her shoe. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” She asked meanly.
Jeremy was momentarily taken aback. “Oh – sorry – I’m…”
Samantha felt a bit sorry for him. Her grandmother was not the nicest of persons, she was well aware. “Jeremy works at Persaud Financials,” she told her grandmother. “He, Nathan and I all went to UWI together, and he did his MBA at Columbia. He’s very good friends with Phillip.”
“Not much of a recommendation!” Grandpa James commented wryly, offering Jeremy his hand. “But that’s not your fault, is it? Nice to meet you, Justin.”
“Jeremy…” Jeremy began, but he realised James Moreno couldn’t care less.
Grandma Joyce was still looking at him with disdain, as if she was trying to decide whether she liked him or not. Jeremy was trying to decide the same thing too. He certainly did not like the way she looked. She was very wrinkly and old, like an apple that was in the bin for too long. Her hair was snow white, and she had a patch of red eyebrow. Her mouth was thin and set in a straight line, like her lips had been sewn together by invisible threads. Grandma Joyce Moreno looked like a nightmare come to life, and she was staring at Jeremy with her hazel eyes, and making him very uncomfortable. Finally, she turned her gaze away from him, and addressed Samantha.
“Turn around let me get a good look at you, Samantha. Have you put on weight?”
“I – I might have…” She stuttered.
“You might have?” Grandma questioned. “You most certainly have. Have you no self-control whatsoever?”
“Joyce, leave her alone!” Grandpa James interjected. “She looks healthy. Would you prefer her to be an emaciated twig?”
Joyce Moreno looked at her husband. “All I am saying is that she needs to watch what she eats. She has always been big boned, if not borderline plus-sized. If she is not careful, she’s going to be fat. Do you want a fat granddaughter, James?”
“As long as she is as beautiful and smart as this one, I don’t care either way!” Grandpa James placed another kiss on Samantha’s flaming cheek. “Come along Joyce. Let’s leave the children alone and go and entertain ourselves with people of our own generation.” He shook Jeremy’s hand once more. “Take care, Jason. I suppose we will see you later.”
He whisked his wife away. Samantha stood as though she was rooted to the floor. Mortification flowed through her veins. Grandma Joyce never failed to make her feel bad – from she was a little girl until now.
“You okay, Samantha?” Jeremy asked, still a little thrown off by the fact that James Moreno still had not caught his real name.
“I should be used to her by now,” Samantha said, blinking back tears of disconcertion. “But that’s my grandmother for you. No matter how hard I try, she has never approved of me.”
Jeremy took her hand in his, and was pleasantly surprised when she did not pull away. “Well, if it counts for anything, I don’t think you look fat at all – not now; not ever! I think you are beautiful and perfect.”
“And I could not agree more!”
Samantha turned and looked at her other grandmother – the one she favoured. Sylvia Persaud looked more beautiful and elegant than any woman on the downside of seventy should look. She was dressed in a simple silver and blue evening dress that made her look like the Queen of England. Her silver hair was pulled back into the most elegant of figure eight bun. Samantha recalled when she was a little girl, Gr
andma had taught her the art of the figure eight bun. This grandmother never made her feel fat or out of place. In fact, both Andie and Christopher would agree that when it came to favourite grandparents, the Persaud ones won hands down. Grandpa James was okay, but Grandpa Ravi was a barrel of fun.
“Hello Grandma! Are you having a good time?" Samantha gave her grandmother a kiss on her cheek. Grandma smelled like vanilla and brown sugar.
“I would be if I didn't have to be babysitting your grandfather!” Grandma scoffed. “I tell you, you would think he and Sushil were eight years old, the way they carry on! I think any minute now, jimmies and measuring tapes will be whipped out to see who is more endowed, and that would give TATTLER something to write about!”
Jeremy could not hold back a chuckle. Grandma Sylvia looked at him, and raised one eyebrow. “Well, who have we here?”
“Grandma, this is Jeremy,” Samantha said.
“Jeremy?” Grandma gave her a questioning look.
“Jeremy,” Samantha repeated. “He’s – uh – Phillip's intern… The father..."
“Is he now?" Grandma looked at him, both realisation and a wide grin on her face. “I can certainly see why, Samantha. He’s absolutely beautiful!”
Jeremy was glad he had far too much melanin to turn red in the face.
“Grandma!”
“Well, he is!” Grandma insisted. “If I were fifty years younger I would have taken him on myself!” She gave Jeremy a hug and a kiss. “It’s nice to meet you, my darling boy."
Samantha scoffed. Grandma really had a nerve to say Grandpa was immature, when there she was, practically salivating over Jeremy.
“Thank you,” Jeremy said, quite taken aback. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Mrs Persaud.”
"Sylvia, please!" Grandma corrected. "I may be the original Mrs Persaud but really, there are too many of us in this room for me to feel unique. Or if you play your cards right, you may soon call me ‘Grandma’!"
"Grandma, please!" Samantha knew her grandmother was just teasing, but she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like having Jeremy in their family, and then ashamed of herself for having such a thought.