Chapter 9
Anthea’s eyebrows arched slightly at the mention of Rebecca’s name.
It was clear from Nanson’s tone that he had a bone to pick with Rebecca. Anthea mused there must be a story there.
Carole Interjected, “Whatever you say about her, I guarantee Ann’s not that kind of girl. Hey, you might be hungry after delivering all day. There’s some spaghetti in the kitchen. Help yourself. I’m going to make Ann’s bed.”
“I’ll come with you, Mom,” Anthea said.
“Okay.”
Anthea and Carole headed to the guest room, pulling out a comforter and making the bed. Normally, a thin cotton sheet would suffice for summer, but the basement was a different story – it was chilly all year round.
Carole was still getting to know this daughter of hers, and that made her a bit reserved. The air was tinged with awkwardness as they spread the bedding, neither sure of what to say.
Anthea sensed Carole’s cautiousness and, with a smile, struck up a casual conversation to break the ice. She was determined not to let Carole down. Having been an orphan in her previous life, this time around, she was resolved to cherish the maternal love that she had so fortuitously found.
After making the bed, Carole fetched a plate of freshly sliced watermelon for Anthea.
But Nanson blocked her path, a look of dissatisfaction on his face. “Carole, the girl’s used to living in the lap of luxury, washing her face with Evian! She probably can’t stomach this humble watermelon. Don’t waste your warmth on someone so cold.”
Nanson was also present during the infamous Evian incident. Had it not been for Carole’s intervention, he might have lost his temper with Anthea.
Carole frowned and whispered, “Anthea has realized her mistake. Why bother holding it against
her?”
“People can be deceiving, Carole. Your daughter turned out ungrateful. And she, she was raised by someone else! I’m just looking out for you.”
Despite his rough edges, Nanson genuinely cared for his sister, Carole. He dreaded seeing her get hurt again.
“Don’t worry,” Carole said with unwavering faith, “I can see in her eyes that she has truly turned a new leaf.”
With an exasperated sigh, Nanson gave way to Carole, muttering under his breath, “You’re always so damn hopeful, Carole.”
Chapter 9
With a smile, Carole carried the watermelon to Anthea’s foom, reminding Nanson on her way out, “Finish your meal and get some sleep early. No gambling tonight. Remember, the house always wins.”
Nanson nodded in agreement.
Carole entered Anthea’s room with the watermelon. “Ann, have some watermelon.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Anthea speared a piece of the juicy fruit with a fork, tasting its sweetness. It was from the heart of the melon.
“Mom, have some, too,” she offered Carole a piece.
Carole smiled. “I’m not fond of watermelon, dear. You enjoy it.”
Like all mothers, Carole wished to give her child nothing but the best the world could offer.
Feeling a sudden pang of emotion, Anthea set down the watermelon and hugged Carole tightly. “Mom, don’t worry. I promise to look after you and Uncle Nanson to give you a better life.”
As the night deepened, midnight arrived.
The basement was silent.
A shadowy figure carefully went to the door, sighing with relief upon closing it without a sound. Nanson was grateful that no one had noticed his departure.
Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder.
“Holy crap!” Startled out of his wits, Nanson jumped a foot in the air, his face ashen.
“Shh,” Anthea pressed her finger to her lips, signaling him to be quiet. “Uncle Nanson, keep it down. If Mom hears us, we can’t get out.”
Seeing it was Anthea, Nanson visibly relaxed. “Scram!” he said, “What business does a broke guy like me have playing uncle to a rich heiress like you!”
Anthea didn’t take offense and just followed Nanson out into the night.
