Rhénee Johnson: Emelda's Sapphire (Book One)

Chapter 27

Mr. Sinclair didn’t get to talk with Rhénee until after their starter meal was served. They were to have some tasty mushroom soup. After the waiter left them, Mr. Sinclair took in the aroma, sniffing it for a while. Rhénee looked at him, wondering why he did that. She hoped that he wasn’t doing it just to stall. The soup is good; you don’t have to sniff it so much, Rhénee thought to herself.

Mr. Sinclair took the spoon that lay next to the white bowl of soup to take a taste. He mumbled to himself after putting a spoonful of it in his mouth. Rhénee took a spoon and took a spoonful of the soup. She realized why Mr. Sinclair mumbled as though in ecstasy. However, she still wanted him to get the conversation started.

"This soup is wonderful," Mr. Sinclair commented.

"It really is," said Rhénee as she looked up at him.

He took a napkin beside his bowl after finishing the soup and wiped the corners of his mouth with it. "Let me not bore you with comments about how good this soup is," he said. "But I would like to start off this conversation with a question."

It surprised Rhénee that he would want to start that way, but she didn’t say it out loud. Right now, all she could do was listen.

"Have you ever thought that your grandmother was a very good woman? More like a saint, perhaps." Mr. Sinclair asked.

Rhénee shook her head. "She’s a human being like everyone else," she answered. "We all have a good and a bad side."

"The only reason you’re saying this now is because there are things that have come up related to your grandmother."

Rhénee shrugged her shoulders. "Well, aren’t they?"

Sinclair scoffed. "Yes, they are. I want you to remember what you thought of your grandmother before you came to Madison. Even before she died."

Rhénee didn’t know where Sinclair was going with this, as answering his question now proved to be difficult. She thought of a better way to respond.

"When I was young," Rhénee started to reply, "I always pictured my grandmother as a good person, like you said, almost like a saint."

Sinclair smiled at her, and the waiter came over to take away their soup bowls and announce that their main meal was on the way. Sinclair turned to look at the window on the far side of the restaurant.

"I know what I’m about to tell you is silly, and knowing you, you might not consider it," he said.

Rhénee shifted in her seat. She had a feeling that she wasn’t going to like what he had to say, so she did her best to prepare herself for the worst.

"Don’t let what you’ve gone through since you came here taint the memory you have of Emelda."

Sinclair now turned to look at Rhénee, who now had a puzzled and angry look on her face. He expected that much from her. He didn’t expect her to smile and nod as though she were a kid. That Rhénee was long gone. Memories of her when she was younger and running around the premises at Emelda’s mansion played in his head. Now he was looking at an older version that hadn’t only matured body-wise with that beautiful face of hers but also turned out smart. Smarter than he expected. She resembled her mother, but the look in her eyes and the way she thought reminded him of Emelda and her son.

"You must be joking, Mr. Sinclair," said Rhénee as she chuckled. "Doing that will be impossible. Not after everything I have gone through these last few days."

"I know. I actually regret not doing something about it sooner."

There was a look of regret on Sinclair’s face. Rhénee never thought he could ever show this side of him to anyone. This was something new. She always thought of him as a man in control of everything.