The Hated Millionaire Heir

I don’t know

Blue matra leaves, an ingredient rarely found in the Mansaw islands, it grows on trees high as horizontal cargo transports, it’s said by the inhabitants it is the finisher in any dish cooked. Add this to any stew its perfection will bring paradise to your taste buds, sour it with fried fish, the leaves will taste better than the fish, the matra leaves are so rare they are only cultivated once every fifteen years since its only then that the matra leave petals are blue and ready, if the leaves are harvested when pre mature well… victims say having acid inside your gut is better off. “Honey I need some of these matra leaves.” Sam yelled from the living room, suspicious and anxious to prove whether these leaves are as good as they are rumored, and potent as warned, he found a place to spend his five million idling in the safe for the past seven years because the banks were tired of their money. “How you doing honey?” he greeted, her daughter had woken some minutes ago and in her pajamas she carried herself to the living room for breakfast, “I’m good just this killing hangover.” Mary groaned.

Her hair was rubbished, drool marks patterned her lips, her eyes well filled with clog, her morning breath was worse than the rotten eggs her mother threw away the previous night, she was evidently in shambles. “Young lady what are you doing?” her mother hissed, Elizabeth placed the plates on the table but before that she glared at her daughter, she was in tatters, she didn’t know what pissed her off the most, her morning breath or her stench of puke and alcohol. “You are not eating looking like Bricky Ricky.” Elizabeth stated, placing only two plates on the table, one beside Mary where her father sat, and one opposite her which was for her own, “Mum I had a long day.” Mary complained banging her head on the table. “I don’t care if you fought a typhoon or a Martian from Mars you are taking a shower and a galloon of coffee before you have my breakfast of toast and tea from camel milk.” Her mother clearly stated. Mary was disheartened, what was worth it, she being the mad one in the house for the day and miss her gold prized breakfast, or face the cold wrath of the pouring showers in the enclosed cubicle and enjoy her breakfast fresh. “The shower it is.” She cursed, lazily she rose herself from the table and dragged herself up the stairs to her room, “And shower good!” her mother echoed the banging door indicating the approval. “What were you saying about leaves?” Elizabeth reminded, turning to her husband, Sam showed her the blue petals of the blue matra leaves, how the editor of the Explore Magazine emphasized on its rarity and fatal precaution, “We have to get these leaves.” She agreed.

Thirty minutes later, Elizabeth on her side of the table on her seat, her cup filled with tea, steam zoning all over, she blew her tea calmly to reduce the heat that quickly warmed her hands and rising to burn her, “Mum I’m done.” She acclaimed. “Now that’s my daughter.” Elizabeth proudly commented, in casual mom blue jeans, a black tank top, and matching black sneakers Mary had freshened up for her date, “Drink this first.” Elizbeth ordered handing her a mag filled with a black liquid. “Really mother coffee, I said I’m fine. I feel fine.” She complained, “You do, then it won’t hurt drinking, will it?” her mother rhetorically asked. Familiar with her mother’s mind games, Mary raised the mug to her lips and sticking her tongue’s tip she tasted the surface before a slight sip, “Coffee mother!” she hissed, she raised her voice and it seemed to have angered her mother but fortunately Sam was there to once again change the subject. “How are you and Ricky doing?” he asked, setting his newspaper aside, Sam in his furry home coat pulled his seat close to the table as he grabbed the neck of his mug and took a sip, “We are fine.” Mary answered taking another sip of her coffee. “What’s weird is we haven’t talked much after the gala.” She highlighted, reaching for a doughnut with her right she took a sip of her mug, took a bite, and took another sip making that chewy sound her mother despised so much. “What is he ashamed or something?” Elizbeth rudely asked, willing to revive what was left of the gala drama their morning breakfast was the perfect start, “What your mother means is why are you not talking as much as you used to?” Sam corrected raising his mug preparing for anther sip. “Ever since mother embarrassed him he has been a little distant.” Mary implicated, Elizabeth feeling provoked let her side of her story, “How was I supposed to know that your mechanic boyfriend was related to the Masons.” She clicked harshly. “Well next time ask. For Christ’s sake mother accept this one decision in my life.” Mary retorted, already disappointed her morning happy mood was tarnished thanks to her mother so she decided to spend the rest in her car driving to her date. “By the way mother we have a date right now and if you think we are not serious,” she paused, “Watch me!” she finished dramatically. Made her statement clear, Elizabeth turned to her husband, Sam not ready to hear her wife’s side of the story and how she felt pushed his seat back and grabbed his coffee mug to finish it somewhere peaceful. “Aaaah!” she screamed, Elizbeth clutched her hair her nails digging her scalp, she was angry, stressed, worse was they were out of flour meaning no baking for her.

Blue curtains, each table accommodative for four people, a bench like sofa was on each side, from each table was a foot distance separation, the door was the center of the building from the glass encased wall and on each side three tables. At the end of each table on the far end of the room from the entrance began another row, four tables extended but with a half foot separation, the last table on the left side of the room led to the kitchen while the one on the right led to the restrooms. The walls were painted on the variety fast foods they sold, hamburgers, hotdogs, sausages, chicken grill, the walls represented what was on the menu list. Opting for the last row on the right side from the entrance, in grey trousers, white sneakers and black round necked shirt Ricky sat there waiting, “One hamburger pleased.” He ordered. The waitress, dressed in the work attire, a white shirt, black trousers, a robe, and a hat with a big H on it, wrote down his order, “Just a moment sir.” She uttered heading for the counter. Passing the list to the man over the counter, the lad rushed to the kitchen and yelled, “A hamburger.”, seconds after his shout he walked out with a plate with a hamburger and some salad on the side. The waitress acknowledging the recipient of the order, raced the plate to the seated lad, “Anything else?” the waitress asked, “Not really but I will tell you if I need anything.” He ushered. Glaring at his watch, the short arm on the nine and the tall one on the ten, he counted the clicks the thin one consistently moved till eventually he lost count and rested his hand on the table. Confident in his hygiene and lazy to walk and wash his hands, Ricky placed his hands on the bun and closed his eyes, briefly he muttered some words and eventually Amen which was loud enough, with both hands he grasped the snack and pressing both buns he made his bite, fitting a chunk in his mouth. Pausing to chew and swallow the current in hand he placed the burger on the plate, looking at his watch again he wondered where she was a meat thread stuck between his molars. Irritated by the unpleasant itch between his back teeth, he thrust his thumb and index finger on the upper left side of his jaw, his eyes closed feeling the wavy curves of his teeth the saliva from his glands underneath his tongue rowed its way down the plate in drops.

“Hi baby.” She greeted joyfully, wrapping her arms across his neck she planted her kiss on his lips while Ricky held her by the waist keeping her balance. “Really darling hamburger early in the morning.” She complained, “I didn’t have any breakfast.” He excused himself, “Well then let me give you a real breakfast. Waiter!” she called. Seated, Mary placed her purse beside her while she was opposite Ricky, she reached out her hands and grabbed Ricky’s pulling them to her bringing his body with it, she sniffed his clamped fingers before gently planting a kiss. “Yes um bring me some hot cocoa and three sausages.” She ordered, the waitress took note of the order and as usual she handed it to the tender over the counter who happened to be a different one, “So how have you been dear?” she asked. The dear addressed was confused he didn’t know where to begin, should he blame her for what her mother put him through or should he start by updating her on the current marriage he was coaxed into, either was a bad start. “You seem troubled what’s wrong?” Mary asked worriedly, she knew him long enough to notice his worries, that avoiding eye contact he always did, how he reduced his conversations to yes and no, how he glared on his food yet had no plans to eat it, she grabbed his hands again but this time she clipped her fingers in between his and pressed them together. “Talk to me please.” She begged, Mary had a serious relationship once and this was that relationship, it took years and she wanted to add the toll, so she looked into his eyes and there the lad broke.

“Its my brothers.” He began, “What about them. Did they hurt you?” she panicked, “No its not that.” He calmed her. “Then what is it?” she asked anxiously, whenever his brothers were involved in a conversation it ended by her consoling him on her lap whispering gently, “It will be okay.”, as he broke down in tears. “Can I ask you something?” he posed, “Sure anything.” She encouraged, “Where do we think we are headed. As a couple?” he emphasized, Mary confused how his brothers and their relationship were connected gathered her thoughts before answering. “I think we are heading for a potential future maybe getting married and having a family.” She confidently opinioned, Ricky was in surprised in a brief second, he expected an answer but this wasn’t the exact he had in mind. “My brothers they think we should get married.” He remarked, Mary eventually making sense of the incomplete lines gave her side of the story, “Well my father thinks we should too. My mother will be hard but we can pull through and convince her.” She enlightened.

He bowed, avoiding eye contact, he had said what he had to so his avoiding technique meant otherwise, he differed with his brothers, with her parents, with her hopes, he was elsewhere. “Ricky, look at me.” Mary said, reaching her hand on his chin he raised his head towards her, “What do you think about us?” she plainly addressed. Ricky hesitant gathered his idea choosing the clear and gentle words to phrase it, “I don’t know.” He uttered, “Ricky this is me and you we are talking about. You must have an opinion.” She insisted, again he gathered his thoughts and with a straight face looking in her eyes he said, “I don’t know.”. Mary was in a confused state, where did she lie, if they were to have a future they had to build it together and at this point her other half was still undecided, “Ricky, make up your mind. I love you and I want us to get married so tell me. Do you want that or not?” she firmly asked pulling her hands from him. He swallowed the bitter gulp, looked down on his burger and raised his head again, looked in her eyes and saw that little princess with a gentle fragile heart, he gathered the answer he could find fit. “I don’t know.” He muttered for the third time.