ON HOLD
he pulls back with a smirk, then whispers in my ear with a smile in his voice, "ready, dear?"
i can barely form words, but i manage to choke out a small 'yes.'
"yes, what?" asher smiles devilishly, tilting my head up with his pointer finger...
my table is now presented with cheese and fruit platters for starters. everyone insists i get my helping first because it's my birthday, so i smile and thank everyone before i get my food.
i pick up my smaller fork and push the prongs into one of the watermelon cubes i retrieved. mother says i should try to use forks more often than my fingers because i would otherwise be eating like a caveman. and i am not a caveman.
as i take my bite, mother smiles to me proudly and sips her lemon water. she always uses a straw to prevent potentially slurping.
"how is school going for her, miss carter?"
the last name carter commonly comes from england, which is where my mother is from. she travels a lot for work but now legally lives in the united states. that decision was made by falling in love with my father when they met on a business trip.
she tells me the story all the time.
mother never dropped her surname. has something to do with her family history, which is why i was given her last name instead of my father's.
juliet carter.
"she's doing excellent! right, dear?" my mother turns towards me.
i smile and wave to whichever relative this is and respond. "yes, i'm doing very well in school!"
once i finish my fruit and cheese, more food is brought out and, like before, i'm instructed to get my helping first.
my mother slightly leans over to me and whispers, "you're doing a great job tonight. i'm proud of you, my love. such a proper young lady you've become."
i respond with a toothy smile and fix my posture again by sitting up straight before picking up my dinner fork, setting my small fork back in place on a napkin.
***
"are you ready for your violin lesson, darling?" my mom asks, stepping into my bedroom. "your teacher is on her way here."
i forgot i had violin lessons today. great.
i sigh, "yes, mother. i'll change my outfit now."
why do rich business people insist on making their kids learn an instrument? it seems pointless to me.
my mother smiles and nods. "i'll let you know when she's here." she then leaves my room and i exhale deeply before lifting myself off my bed.
every time we have guests over, (which happens often when mother is home from work), i dress formally so they feel more welcomed and gives a better impression.
mother says it's basic manners, so it's important to always look presentable.
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