Red

" Where's your parasol you naughty child?"

I stand straighter than the curtain rods, I ducked immediately to the alcove and picked the most elaborate parasol I can hold on to. Knowing my mother for fourteen years of my life, she has this mania for 'Elaborate appearance.'

" Time won't wait on you." There's a steely edge to her cultivated voice.

" I'm here now mom." A flat tone devoid of warmth nor cockiness.

She looked at me thoroughly, then tied the ribbons of my white bonnet.

" Sloppiness is unbecoming with your age, mind the simplest details to create a beautiful you."

" Like you mom?" I asked curiously.

" Not like me, nor anyone. But You. You should be perfect, flawless, a beautiful you."

A questioned looked retaining in my eyes and mom dismissed my inquiry with a simple nod to a halting cab.

" At last! A cab on time, slide along my dearest Portia, we'll be late for the mass."

I bite my tongue to not utter another word, for Sunday mass is so holy in mom's vocabulary.

I sang, heard scriptures, and listen to homily in autopilot. After half a day serving the Lord, I held a solemn sighed of relief, at last time to shepherd us outside.

Mom slightly straieghten her askew mini hat while elegantly having a chit chat with other females of the congregation.

All of a sudden a suffocating humidity clung to my skin, I lift my downcasted eyes and got a shock in my lifetime an intense 6 foot man with patrician features and solid built, lasciviously eyeing me, without fear nor qualm he smirked devilishly sending his intentions.

My attention turns to my mother and to my horror she makes a small bow acknowledging the presence.

Without further prompting he strolled leisurely towards us.

I lowered my eyes when I feel my Mom's simple jabbing at my side, instinctively she held my left hand a bit tightly.

" Good day sir! Such a benevolent day it is."

" It is, madame -"

" Birsch."

" And the lady?"

" Portia Birsch, my daughter."

He tipped his hat in my direction and continue appraising me while listening and answering in monotone.

It's embarrassing on my part, imagine all the gossiping members of the congregation felt the heat of his desire emitting from his eyes, and my over mannerly correct mother not saying any words, or just one word to curb the man's unholy stares.

Without blinking, he offered us a ride and without batting an eyelash, mom accepts. My mom, accepts oh so coyly! Like a teenager in heat!

My mom! So decently in swiping the dirt of our family underneath the rugs, not airing her dirty linen for the neighborhood to see, now, solicitously salivating for a morsel of attention from this unscrupulous man. I inwardly shakes my head. Not a good sign oh Father in Heaven!

The gleaming car stopped and I eagerly opening my side, when mom held my hand. I looked downward and stop what I'm doing, obediently sensing what's going to unfolds.

The chauffeur opens my mother's door, while the dominating man opening my side of door, I refused to look at him for the second time because at the first staring showdown with his foreboding eyes I saw a glimpse of hell.

I stays at my mother's side while they still exchanging pleasantries. Out of nowhere Mia came, lithely walking towards us with a seductive smile that make mother tense.

" Brenda, why don't you invite this fine man inside the villa, as you always instructed Portia, with her legion of admirers."

Mom stood still for a second before a subtle eye glare at Mia's direction. I refrain from chuckling knowing I'll get a murdering mom at my neck after this fiasco.

" Nice meeting you sir," mom politely and abruptly ends the random conversation.

" Aldrich Renoir, a pleasure for me, until next time." Eyeing me nonstop.

When the car rolls out, I breath luxuriously and the gripping feeling I carried loosen immediately. My mother eyed me, cataloguing my reaction, noting the colors of my paled face and the erratic beating of my heart. Storing, sorting, all of these as a reservoir for impending calamity.