Tea With Miss Abraham | #loveintragedy

Chapter Three

Behind the Curtain

Winter had begun. Though Clifton and Miss Abraham had never seen each other, the two developed a close bond: discussing music, literature, art, business, sports, and travel. Occasionally, when he hadn't worked, Clifton visited for dinner. One night, as cooking ham lingered through the mansion, Miss Abraham sighed, watching snow cover the gardens through a window.

"What was that for?" Clifton spoke, beyond their barrier.

"I rarely see you since the first snow."

"You've never seen me."

"You know what I mean."

"That's why I come once a week for the plants and once a week for dinner. And you know my uncle has me on other projects."

"You're right. I'm sorry." The woman plopped onto her couch and sketched a drawing.

"You're upset." Her pencil slowed against the paper as he spoke. "I know your voice. Something's been on my mind, too."

"What is it?"

"Why don't you ever mention your family?"

"Because I don't want to." She tightened her grip upon her pencil.

"We've talked about my family-our first lunch."

"That's different. You wanted to." She blinked back tears, and her arms ran rigid as hard-bottom shoes stepped toward her curtains, "Clifton-"

"Kelci, I want to see you."

"You can't."

"I can't because you won't let me."

"I'm doing you a favor!"

"A favor?" he scoffed. "How can keeping me from seeing someone I care about do me a favor?" Clifton's shadow paced the curtain's limit. "If anything, it's selfish."

"I'm not selfish, I'm embarrassed."

"Embarrassed? You don't have to hide from me." The woman covered her eyes, tears drowning her palms. "Kelci." Curtain rings screeched, and she ran for her side's door.

A man's hand locked out the winter winds before she escaped. With no place to turn, Kelci buried herself in the door's corner. She tensed as his fingers touched the garnet burn on her neck, the initial pains, horrors, and surgeries flooding back. She trembled, and a tear swept her skin.

Warm hale arms, tinged by the sun, circled her, "Kelci, I love you." A cry muffled within her sealed hands. "Tell me what happened to you." Her covered face wavered over and over, buried at the corner. "Tell me about your family, anything. Please." Tears fell at her waist, brushing his skin. "Kelci."

"Don't call me that." She shouted, pushing his arms away. "Mr. Underwood...I'm terminating your employment."

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do." She clasped her shaking hands, keeping her tone united.

"You don't want to see me again?"

"I can't miss what I've never seen." Kelci slid down the corner when Clifton's shadow fled her body.

Hard-bottom shoes stormed through the main doors, and a slam followed, slicing her heart in pieces.

*

Knock, knock, knock, knock!

"Kelci Ann Abraham, open this door!" Betty marched into the attic. "You foolish girl. Don't you know that man loves you?"

"He told me."

"And you fired him anyway?"

"Clifton's never going to love me once he sees me."

"Now, you listen here, Miss Abraham. I was married for thirty-four years before the good Lord called my husband Home, and if I can tell you anything about love, love recognizes no barriers. I almost died from pneumonia. My husband stayed by my side day and night 'til I was back on my feet again. And Clifton? That man won't abandon you over something out of your control." Betty handed the girl a tissue. "Now, you call that boy up. Tell him everything-about Lark, about your folks, and the fire. Woman, you nearly lost your life."

"Are you finished yet, Betty?" Kelci retorted, laying on her pillow.

"Stubborn as a-" Betty clenched her jaw by the door, "If you end up alone in life, Miss Abraham, it's your own fault." The housekeeper sealed Kelci's door.

It rattled.

*

The scorching sun beat upon her dress as she labored, watering her thriving flowerbed. Sweat lined her brow while the neighbor's children hopped through their sprinkler.

"Miss Abraham, the next applicant just arrived. I'll entertain 'em while you freshen up."

"I won't be long, Betty." Kelci proceeded into the house and removed her straw hat once entering a bathroom and brushed her raven hair.

She tended to her dry lips and applied medication cream on her recovering skin. It had been seven months since her argument with Clifton. Kelci tried calling him, even writing the man letters, but he never answered. And could she blame him after the way she treated him-as kind as he'd been? At least, Kelci kept his flowers safe,  gentle reminders Clifton existed in her life.

And he loved her.

"Miss Abraham," Betty knocked, "are you almost ready?"

"I am." Kelci set her brush on the bathroom's countertop. "Tell me more about the applicant. I can't afford another screw up in the bakery's numbers."

Kelci fired two bookkeepers and one accountant in the last five months, and her best bookkeeper just went on maternity leave.

"Oh, you'll like this one, ma'am. Their alma mater is quite impressive."

"Betty, not another young applicant."

"Give the young people a chance, Miss Abraham. Now, sit here and drink your tea. I'll bring 'em on back."

Kelci sighed and sipped on her sweet tea while admiring her and her sister's old theatre room, or the art room, as the household termed it now. The room seemed twice as vast now that the golden curtains had been pinned with silk gold ribbons. Kelci blew a breath as Betty's voice strengthened in the hallway. Meeting new people always made her nervous, still overcoming the self-consciousness for her burns.

*

He posed his sweaty palms into his pockets, ignoring the employees' numerous whispers.

"Now, don't you worry. Miss Abrahams' a kind lady. She's like an onion, though: peel her back a day at a time." Betty patted the candidate's arm. "She's in there waitin'. Good luck, sugar."

The young man entered the sunlit room, admiring its intricate paintings, statues, and chandelier. A grand white piano and easel set behind golden curtains, pinned in matching silk ribbons beside their walls. But all the room's beauty fell to nothing  as a woman drank tea on a grand couch. Her eyes were clover green, circling wide when she met him. Had he offended her before he could speak?

She stretched her hand forth, slightly shaking, and he said, "You're beautiful."

"Oh." Her clovers blinked, and she rapidly reached for a closed folder, beside her pitcher of tea. "Thank you, Mr..." her lips flushed pale.

"Mr. Underwood." Clifton answered, and warm slender arms latched onto his neck as Kelci cried in his embrace. "I'm never letting you go again."