Jennie
Kevin removed my bags from the trunk and rolled my silly little lime green suitcase up the sloping stone towards the door. I just paused outside of the limo, staring up at the gigantic, shining example of prime modern luxury. I looked down at my plain grey V-neck, ripped jeans, and Birkenstocks. I sighed, muttered a curse, and then strode forward to join Kevin. He rang the doorbell once I'd arrived and the door swung open two seconds later to reveal a short, Thai woman with a shrewd eye and an apron over her yellow dress. She exhaled in a puff and turned her eyes to Kevin.
"Txn nī̂ khuṇ kảlạng nả mæw crcạd klạb b̂ān h̄rụ̄x mị̀?" she snapped, reaching for my suitcase and waving a hand at Kevin with a huff. (You're bringing home stray cats now?)
I raised a brow, unaccustomed to being referred to as a street cat by someone that I barely knew. Though, I imagined my comfortable flight attire wasn't doing me any favours here.
"C̄hạn mị̀chı̀ mæw crcạd mæ̂ẁā nm bāng s̄̀wn ca dī." I replied easily and then breezed past her into the house. (I'm not a stray cat. Although, some milk would be nice.)
Her jaw dropped and her eyes grew wide as she stared at Kevin who just doubled over laughing. I raised my eyes to the enormous chandelier above me and the black iron stairs descending from a loft above on either side. To my right was a sitting room, with a casual mix of couches and armchairs, cosy rugs and scattered art work and light fixtures. On my left was a library of sorts, with bookshelves filled to the brim and covering every wall and a well-stocked bar in the centre. Booze and books. Maybe this was Lisa's house.
"My apologies, Madam. I did not know you spoke Thai." the woman hastened to apologise, with her cheeks tinted pink as she slammed the door on Kevin and waved over a younger, male servant to help with my bags. He took my suitcase off without asking and I watched him go, confused.
"Where is she..." I started but she was speaking again.
"Ms. Manoban had something come up at the office last minute. She sends her apologies and promises to return home for dinner. She hopes you will be dining with her." the woman told me, while bowing her head slightly in a sign of submission. Had I truly scared her so much?
"What's your name?"
"My name is Nan, Madam."
"Nan, I'm Jennie. You may call me Jennie. There's no need for all this..." I waved my hands in the air to indicate the ludicrous grandeur of the house around me, "Class separation."
She said nothing but I noticed the hint of a smile on her lips.
"I am making Leng Saap." she told me. "Ms. Manoban told me she recalled that they were your favourite?"
I raised a brow.
"If Ms. Manoban thinks that she's getting out of this Armageddon-level argument we're about to have by appeasing the Gods of Hunger... she knows me better than I thought." I joked and Nan smiled again before bustling off down a hall on the opposite side of the sitting room. I followed after her, struggling to keep up with her as she sped ahead.
"There is the bathroom, just up ahead. But you will have your own in your room, of course. And the walk-in closet as well. Prija will be unpacking your things as we speak so if you..."
"My room?" I spat, incredulous. "Prija? Unpacking my things? Just one second, Nan." I reached out and grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to turn around and look at me.
"Just what, precisely did Lisa tell you I was doing here?" I asked.
"Staying, of course. For a period of time, at least." she replied with a shrug. I furrowed my brow in confused suspicion.
"And what did Ms. Manoban tell you about... us?"
"Very little." she replied, with her tone measured. I could tell that she was choosing her words carefully as she said them. "She has always maintained that she is married. After a while, we learned to stop asking about the wife. One day she gets a call, orders us to prepare a room, and here you are."
"And you don't think that's strange."
"A marriage is between two people, Mrs. Manoban. Nothing more."
With that, she turned on her heel and stalked off towards the smell of Leng Saap and what I assumed was the kitchen. I stared after her, thinking about her words, but mainly about what she had called me. Mrs. Manoban.
Suddenly, it was very difficult to breathe.
I pushed through the door to my room, feeling the panic attack coming on already. I cast my eyes to the young servant unpacking my things in the closet which was as big as my bedroom back home and snapped at her to leave. I regretted it immediately, of course, and thought about apologising even as she scurried out of the room, pulling the enormous door closed behind her. Instead, I made a mental note to find her and apologise later and took a seat on the edge of the bed, burying my head between my knees and taking deep breaths.
It was just too much. It was all too much.
I hadn't thought about Lisa in six years and now here I was, in this frivolous mansion, back in California surrounded by beaches and ocean and constant sunshine. Even the feel of the goose down comforter beneath my legs and the silk sheets underneath almost sent me into another spiral. I slunk from the bed onto the lush carpet and took deep breaths, trying to hold it together. I wasn't made for this life. I wasn't made for this luxury. And to have it all thrust upon me at once was more than a little overwhelming.
And Lisa. Shit. That was not the person that I married.
If we'd met on the street in New York City, I wouldn't have recognised her even if she'd walked up to me and punched me square in the face. There were still some similarities, of course. She was still six foot three, that wasn't something that changed. Her eyes were still green, though they seemed much sharper without the glasses blocking them from view. If I tried hard enough, I could see the Lisa that I'd once known but it was buried beneath the body of a Greek God, and I was not prepared to face the person that she had become.
I cursed again and rubbed my hand over my face. Why hadn't I done more research on the person that I'd married before I'd flown all the way out here and tossed myself right into the thick of things?
Suddenly, a soft knock came at my door and I jumped, with my blood running cold at the words the sweet feminine voice spoke to me through the thin wood.
"Mrs. Manoban, Ms. Manoban is home."
