Dawson in fur

II

                                  II

     What will you do?" Madeline, after hearing Sonja's dilemma, could not contain her shock and happiness for her best friend.
     "I don't know. What if its not true? This letter could be fraud. Some sick trick."
     Madeline held the photo in her hand. Examining it carefully.
     "Why would someone send you an exact photo of your mother's portrait. I saw the frames in your house, it's exactly the same."
     This bothered her the most. Jo would hang frames after frames of their portrait, she would always ask what her mother looked like, Jo would smile and bring her to the wall upon the stairs and point to a smiling woman in the picture frames. She would spent an hour a day looking at the picture, capturing every detail the portrait would offer.
     One afternoon, when she was six or so, Jo caught her gazing intently at the frame of her mother. When Jo asked what she was doing, she said she wants to remember mother's face. By looking at the portrait she hopes, someday, to recognize her mother's face in heaven. Jo felt bad for the children, atleast Jonathan remembers their mother. Sonja was barely a baby when she died.
     Jo would bring her to the music room and tell her about her mother when she was alive, she would take up anything that Jo says. Speaking french, reading her favorite books, cooking her favorite foods, even learning to play the piano.
     When Jo was on her last breath, she gave her the Jade pendant with a gold chain. It was beautiful, she remembered Jo said back then, that it was the only thing her mother had left forever. That all the Fey's first born daughter have them, and that she was sorry she kept it from her.
     "Sonja, I want you safe."
     Madeline reached for her hand. She was gripping the cushion a bit hard.
     "But what if my Father is there? Jones?" She seeked Madelines understanding. "I want to see them. Be with them."
     "I understand."
     "I'll try to reach them tomorrow."
     They both started to fix the room and head for the bed.
     Sonja's heart feasted with joy to see her Father again, and Jonathan, dear Jones. With that in mind she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

     Hey," Michael steals a glance at Sonia. He felt uncomfortable when she did not speak with him, he thought something is wrong. "You okay? You look... distracted."
     Last night, Sonia couldn't wait and she barely had any sleep.
     "Can I use your phone at home later?"
     "Sure." Michael's confused look made her laugh. And her mood shifted lightly.
     At work, she was clearly distracted. The doctor made disapproving remarks that she can't follow simple instructions. Her mind was still with the whole event last night.

     After a tiring day at work, she heads for Michael's.
     "Do you know what time it is?" Michael lazily opened the door for her.
     "I just got off from work." She glanced at the hanging clock in the livingroom. It is three in the morning.
     "What is so important about this call anyway?" He yawns and settles himself in the couch, propped on his elbows.
     "It's about my Dad. Where's the telephone?" She says joyfully.
     "In the kitchen." He waves his hand. Eyes shut.
     She does the task with ease and dialed the number attached to the letter. Suddenly she feels like puttimg the phone down. Doubt clouding her mind.
     "Hello. Who is this?" A man's voice answered. Inquiring.
     "Hi. I'm Sonia Johnson, is Julia Dawson there?"
     "Wrong number. Oh! Wait. Are you Sonia?" The man sounds british. And bored. His voice alters after recognizing her voice.
     "Yes. Uhm. I—."
     "Wait for a second Miss." The man leaves the phone, a minute later she hears a sound on the other line and a smooth silky voice was happily greeting her.
     "I—we have been searching for you all this time darling!" The woman cheers.
     "I'm your Aunt Julia."

     After a long conversation, they decided that she will indeed come to London. She has a son—John Dawson—who might be in the Philippines this time of the year. He will be the one escorting her to London.
     "Oh. Honey, soon I hope! Goodbye for now." Julia voice stills and the line goes dead.
     And just like that she is to cross half the globe to see her Father. She can't wait, even deprived of sleep she feels restless. She walks back to the living room to find Michael passed out on the couch. Looking at the clock, its already six in the morning.
     Without saying goodbye she made her way out of his apartment.
     A long week has passed. She had been waiting impatiently. Doubting if it was real. She settles herself on the round tea table against the patio.
     She looked gloomy like the weather, it was raining badly. The glass was blurry from the cold, Sonia rests her head against the humid glass.
     "It's Sunday. Are you gonna sulk all day?" Madeline interupted her thoughts of doubt and regret.
     "Sorry." She mumbles.
     "Look. You can't be serious, give it time. Its only been a week af—. "
     The doorbell rang. They looked at each other. Nobody dares to move. It rang again. Madeline made swiftly to open the door to find a man.
     Drenched. From the rain? He looked american. With his sandy blonde hair and brown eyes.
     "Is this were Miss Johnson lives?" He inquires. Thickly accented. British.
     An American with british accent.
     Everything was frozen in time. Sonia could not believe what she was seeing in front of her eyes. Madeline seemed to forget she can speak.
     Opening and closing her mouth like a nutcracker.
     She advanced to the door. Saving her friend from embarrassing herself more.
     "Yes. I am. Sonia Johnson. Please come in, you are soaked. You might catch a cold."
     "Yes. Thank you."
     Madeline disappears and returns with towel and clothing for him to change.
     "I hate to trouble you—."
     "It is nothing. You can take a shower in the bathroom, we can wait."
     "Much obliged." He says dryly.
     After he was gone to the bathroom. Madeline mouths HOT to Sonia. She snorts and busies herself with the coffee maker.