What Connor Wants... (BWWM)

CHAPTER TWO: HER

Cape Town, South Africa.

Aubrey stood in the kitchen and washed the dishes. Being a house cleaner was far from what she wanted for herself, but ultimately, she had no choice. Her little boy needed to be fed. She was used to being a fighter her entire life, but even she had to admit that there were days when she lacked the energy to work so hard for a low-income wage.

If it were not for the fact that she desperately needed the money, she would have left this god-forsaken job a long time ago, but as it turns out, she needed every penny.

Aubrey thought of her poor son, who was probably sitting at home waiting for her to return home. Aubrey could not bear the thought of looking into his big grey eyes and lying to him this morning. She wished she had a choice, but then again, she had to lie. Money did not grow on trees for people like her. So now she was one hour late, and her son was alone at their apartment in their dangerous neighborhood. As if matters could not get any worse, her job as a maid in a wealthy couple's home was far from where she lived.

"Aubrey, Aubrey!" She heard the boss yell out; this caused Aubrey to roll her eyes in frustration. In all honesty, Aubrey wished that this was not another instance where she was ordered to run after a mouse because her boss was too scared to do it herself.

"Yes, madam, I'm here in the kitchen!" Aubrey yelled, hoping it would ease the old woman. But before Aubrey could count her lucky stars that her boss had stopped screaming, her celebration was cut short when her boss walked into the kitchen.

"Oh, here you are; I've been looking everywhere for you. I think you should leave the dishes for a while and prepare the guest room, my sister has just arrived from London" Her boss informed her, Aubrey tried to hide the horror on her face to not make her boss question her further.

Oh goodness, I hope it is not Maria. Aubrey thought to herself. Aubrey was haunted by Maria's visit three years ago. Maria made the house unbearable for her boss and Aubrey; one could go as far as saying that Maria was the queen of evil. Nothing ever satisfied Maria, not even the food that Aubrey made.

"You mean your sister Maria, who visited three years ago?" Aubrey asked her boss, trying her best to hold her nerves together.

"Yes, Aubrey, my wonderful sister Maria" her boss responded, leaving Aubrey to wonder what part of Maria was lovely. But unfortunately, Maria was the definition of cruelty when it came to Aubrey.

Before Aubrey could respond to her boss, Maria walked into the kitchen. Maria might have been the devil's sister, but the old woman still had some fashion sense. 

Aubrey was impressed by the older woman's sense of style, even as old as it was. Maria wore tight black skinny jeans (probably to hold all that saggy skin in one place) with a simple black tank top with the words "eat me" written in bold red.

"Elizabeth—"Maria greeted her sister as she entered the kitchen. She stopped when her eyes landed on none other than Aubrey.

Aubrey hated how Maria stared at her as though she were a disgusting creature from the pit of hell. Maria had never hidden her disdain for Aubrey, and in truth, Aubrey also hated the older woman. However, Aubrey knew why Maria hated her. Seeing Aubrey in the kitchen only reminded Maria that a black woman would be preparing her food, and as an older and racist white woman, Maria could not stomach the thought.

"So, she still works for you till now? Maria asked her sister with a disgusted look, and that did not bother Aubrey because she was accustomed to it by now.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Maria. We have missed you dearly" Aubrey welcomed her back, lying through her teeth.

"It's Miss Maria, I'm not married, but you wouldn't know that, obviously. Oh, and Elizabeth, I hope my bedroom is ready. I think I'm suffering what young people these days call jet lag," Maria informed her sister in her high Dutch accent that only the two sisters could understand.

Aubrey was unsurprised that Maria was not married; any man wanting to marry her would be digging his grave.

"Yes, Maria, Aubrey is going to do it right now. Let us go and have our coffee," Aubrey's boss Mrs. Elizabeth informed her sister. Both women left the kitchen, leaving Aubrey in the kitchen.

Good, that is precisely how I like it, all by myself. So, Aubrey thought to herself as she wiped her hands down, preparing to prepare Maria's room to the best of her ability.

Aubrey arrived home just after eight-thirty that evening; Maria had tested her patience again. Maria had complained about everything that there was ever to complain, she complained about the sheets being too wrinkled, and she even went as far as to deprive Aubrey of leaving at her appointed time for no reason.

Aubrey had tried explaining to Maria that her son was home alone and she needed to get home early, but Maria would not hear a word of it. Finally, Maria simply responded that it was not her problem and that Aubrey needed to learn to leave her problems at home and not bring them to work.

Aubrey arrived in her little apartment and dropped her bag onto the floor. She looked around her flat and was not proud of the tiny house she lived in. The paint on her walls was falling off because it was old, the windows needed replacing after all the abuse they took from children kicking their balls at them, and the wood on her doors had survived its fair share of break-ins.

Her home was silent, and she assumed that her little boy had finally fallen asleep after waiting for her for a long time.

"Mommy!" Aubrey heard her son's squeaky voice call out to her, and before she knew it, his arms wrapped around her waist.

"Hey, my little man, how are you tonight?" she asked her son as she crouched down to greet him.

"I missed you, Mom; I'm hungry, Mommy," her little boy told her. This broke her heart. But she could not blame him after all. She knew she did not have much money, and all she could leave him with was a juice box and six slices of bread.

She looked into her son's eyes, and there it was, those silver-grey eyes that broke every fiber in her body. Her little boy had beautiful full pink lips. He had also inherited his father's excellent features, especially those high cheeks and sandy brown hair.

Connor Junior was a mixed-race child. People would often notice at first glance that he did not look quite like Aubrey because most of his features were his father's. Nevertheless, Aubrey smiled bravely because being brave was all she could do.

She ran her hands through her son's sandy brown hair. CJ shrieked, and Aubrey stopped. With every passing day, CJ acted just like his father.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, but Mommy brought you some muffins and orange juice. I hope you still like it?" She asked her son, and the smile on his face lit up brighter than a Christmas tree on a Christmas night.

"Yes, Mommy," her little boy replied with enthusiasm. To Aubrey, there was nothing better than seeing her baby boy happy, which is primarily what motivated her to work harder every day, even when she did not feel like it.

She watched as CJ ate what she considered his dinner—a carton of apple juice and a muffin—while she ate away at her stale bread. Finally, she washed CJ and later tucked him into his bed, tears spilling from her eyes the entire time.

Aubrey cleaned her little house up and then got into bed. She stared at the ceiling the entire time, wondering what had become of her life and where she had gone wrong. Finally, she looked beside her bed, and CJ slept peacefully, unaware of their financial situation.

My little boy is now sleeping peacefully, and I am on my bed, crying to sleep again. Connor, where are you? Your little boy needs you so much. He needs his dad so much. Connor, I need you so much.  Aubrey thought to herself as she allowed the tears to spill. Tomorrow was another day, and she prayed that she had the strength to deal with Maria.