My Mother's Daughter

Chapter 6

Rebecca stared at the chauffeur in the rearview mirror. His features were the definition of sharp angles and lean hollows, which narrowed to a firm unyielding boxer's jaw that seemed to have been roughly chiseled from stone. Too harsh to be considered live-in, his features revealed arrogance and a remoteness that were in decided contrast to his outwardly penitent tone.

A faint white scar on his cheek added a menacing touch. His deeply set eyes were as dark and unrevealing as midnight, while his hair shone silver in the summer's sun. She looked out the passenger's window and watched the scenery.

"Miles?" Miles St. John, her driver of seven years. They had quickly bonded over box juices from her to him, and candy from him to her. Rebecca had to hide her candy though, or else her stepmother would have thrown them in the trash, and most likely terminated Miles' contract. He was a friend and one of the few people she trusted, and although he was much older he preferred she addressed him as Miles. Not that her stepmother knew, she practically would have a fit.

"Yes Rebecca." He replied respectfully.

"Take me to the mall."

"As you wish." The car became silent again.

Rebecca invited Miles to join her, and they both entered the chaotic shopping center, instantly regretting their decision. People of different size, height and ethnicity hustled busily. Because it was summer, the mall was filled mostly with teenagers doing the usual, 'hanging out'. Rebecca did not feel like shopping, so she and Miles sat in the outdoor seating area of a restaurant on the second floor. It was adjacent to the crowded and overly loud food court, yet the setting of the restaurant was serene and relaxing.

A waitress approached their table, extracting her mini notepad and pen from a deep-pocket black apron with experience and confidence.

"Welcome to All's Good, where all is good, and it is good to have all. How may I take your order?" Sarah, the polished nametag declared, favoured her customers with a smile, the tip of the plastic pen a half inch from the dove white page, as she awaited their response. The short mahogany, naturally coloured hair was tucked behind diamond studded ears, the long spiky bangs skimming her eyebrows.

"I'll have an iced tea, please." Rebecca replied coolly, and inclined her head to her company granting permission for him to order what he wanted.

"I'll have a coke." He said dutifully. The waitress nodded and disappeared. Rebecca scanned her surroundings. The court was lively with chatter, soft music played in the background, frequently interrupted by the announcement of a lost child, bag or item. Sarah returned with the drinks, also setting a basket of breadsticks appetizers on the table, and left. Rebecca sipped her drink and smiled as a couple that spoke French got into a heated argument.

"Oh-my-gosh, Rebecca?" She stiffened and reluctantly turned towards the familiar voice. It was them alright, she sighed. The four most popular girls that attended her school. Not that she was not popular, just quieter and well liked. They were cheerleaders and she was not. The one who spoke was the leader, Simone. The others, Vanessa, Shantel and Marsha were her advocates. Rebecca smiled humourlessly.

"Hello Simone... and friends." They all accessed her appearance, then grinned mischievously.

"Well, it's certainly a surprise to see you here, since this is a place for 'ordinary people'. And wow, what a nice outfit. Where'd you buy it, in the eighteenth century, perhaps." Marsha covered her cherry coloured lips to hide her laughter, while Shantal and Vanessa laughed openly. Simone, pleased with her joke, flipped the ends of her bleached streaked hair, loving the fact that she was the centre of attention, and the star of the show.

Rebecca grinned and grinded her teeth like tyres crunching over gravel. Look at Simone trying to be funny, she thought, using shallow insults which hardly caused Rebecca cheeks to reddened with embarrassment.

"It is nice, though disturbing, to see you doing your best to fit in by coming to the mall, Rebecca. But, it's going to take a lot more than showing up here in order to be one of us. Plus, that clown outfit isn't helping matters. Maybe, next time stop by the circus, I'm sure you will fit right in." Simone snapped pink polished fingernails at her friends, an indicator that it was time to leave. "See you around Charles."

In union, and with the practised grace of a cheerleader, one by one they turned on their heels to leave, however, Simone continued to stare at the seated girl. Seriously she said,

"Rebecca, wipe your face, you've got something on it." Rebecca kept her gaze trained on the other girl, but in her peripheral vision she noticed the movements of Miles, who while draining the remnants of his drink, slightly shook his head. With that acknowledgement of the truth she replied,

"I know."

"Then wipe it off." Simone rolled her eyes exaggeratingly.

"Sorry Simone, but it's impossible to wipe away my beauty. Something you and your crew lack in abundance." Shocked with the response, the four girls stood with mouths agape. With the momentum changed in Rebecca's favour, and Miles sensing the same, he assisted his young lady from her seat.

"And Simone," Compared to her stepmother, the girl's bark had no bite, and the scratches were superficial at best. Rebecca walked closer. "Next time you want to make fun of someone make sure it isn't me. You'd be smart to follow the saying, 'never trust a quiet person' because I can certainly make your life a living hell. Feel free to call my bluff though, I'm just itching to show you what I can do. Enjoy your day ladies."

With every stride she commanded attention, and with every sway of her hips she left behind an aura of sophistication and style. Her exit was a mesmerising display worthy of the runway.

It could have been a short walk to the vehicle, but the high-heel shoes she wore slowed her gait. She ignored the spectators, the young who stared in disdain, the adults who probably thought she was an attention seeker, but she smiled humbly at the old who thought her charming. They were possibly reminiscing on the good days long gone.

Rebecca sighed as she plopped onto the backseat, relieved to be away from the calculating eyes of misinterpreters of her actions. Miles lowered the air condition and increased the fan speed to quickly cool the cabin, and his young lady.

"Take me home Miles, I've given her enough time." Though puzzled by her odd statement, the chauffeur did not ask questions nor coax for an elaboration, instead he did what he was accustomed to doing for the past fifteen years. He placed the key in the ignition, watched the road and minded his business.