Misconstrue

TWENTY-SEVEN, effendi

It's amazing how quickly panic creeps in during certain situations. My initial reaction upon seeing my ex? boyfriend was to cry my heart out and once the tears dried up my mind went into overdrive.

"How are you here?" I ask Emilio as the chickens cluck nosily from their various locations in the yard. Emilio's eyes mirror my own and if I weren't in such a state of disarray, I would be melting at the fact that I saw him cry. 

This man has cried with me. He's being empathetic. He's come all this way just for me.

"Balei..." I turn toward the gates as the sound of a vehicle driving up the hill has caught my attention. "...why didn't you tell me?"

I place my hands up as I return my attention to Emilio. My knees grow weak as I look at his face - a face that I've been missing dearly for the past three weeks. His hair has grown passed his ears, and there's evidence of stubble, which can only mean that he has not seen his barber since I left. But despite all of that, he's miraculously pulling off this new, rugged look. I sigh softly as the thought of placing small kisses over his face crosses my mind.

"We don't have time for this." I point to the left. "We need to catch the chickens!"

I take off immediately without giving Emilio a chance to react. Mr. Phillips' name is on my lips as I enlist his help in my newfound mission. The urge to cry returns as I'm clawed and pecked by the reluctant chickens. Emilio and I meet constantly in the middle of the yard as we capture the birds one by one. Mr. Phillips gave us looks of uncertainty and it's obvious that he's dying to know the details. 

Emilio has been trying to get a word in each time we arrive at the crate, but between my sniffling and the small drop of trepidation I'm feeling at the arrival of my other grandmother, I can't bring myself to say anything to him. And you know, he smells delicious! His scent engulfs me and whatever cologne he's wearing is so strong that I can taste it in my mouth. 

I actually can't believe that I have Emilio Casemiro catching chickens. I laugh at that. I ignore the annoying chickens and the stares of the people standing in the yard as I laugh loudly. With a nervous chicken in my arms and my head tilt toward the sky, my shoulders shake vividly as I take in this chaotic moment. Emilio looks back at me with a small sigh and a shake of his head but doesn't interrupt my maniac giggles.

"What's so funny, miss?" Miss Cottrell stands akimbo after joining the chaos. 

My laughter dies immediately in my throat and my stomach churns angrily. An unfamiliar sound passes through me which I assume is bred from the depths of my annoyance. Miss Cottrell is short with gray wavy hair down to her waist. Her spectacles shine under the sun as she looks up at the grand house with a nod. Miss Cottrell always liked this house, and I think she likes it because of what it stands for. Here in Charlestown, big houses belong to well-off families. 

It took me a while to understand why my dying grandmother was pleased when my parents divorced. And I'm sure I'll have the same feeling once I leave this island.

****

"Why didn't you tell your father that you were coming?" I shrug at Miss Cottrell's question. I have no intention of having a conversation, but she just keeps talking! 

"There are some things I wanted, but now I'll have to wait until next year." I try not to scoff. One would think that that was a general comment, but judging by her tone it's obvious that she is blaming me. 

The audacity. I rushed to Nevis so that I could be with my grandmother during her last days and this woman is annoyed that I didn't come bearing gifts. I sigh softly. Now that the chaos has died down and the chickens are securely in the boot of Miss Cottrell's car, nervousness and anxiety has returned.