Only Mine

Chapter 6

I was up at 5am -- the morning of my second first day of college. Anna had pulled some strings, undoubtedly because of her last name -- our last name, and had gotten me enrolled in the same university as her. The college was located in the heart of the city and had a highly regarded Arts and Business program. I had been up early to try and figure out what I wanted with my future. I had no family to fall back on, and I needed to move out of Anna's house soon. My college education was benevolently funded by Jean's deep pockets and I kept falling deeper and deeper into debt with a man I wanted to stay clear from.

I finally managed to drag myself and get ready for the big day. I was a bag of nerves when I entered the dining room to find Anna already scoffing down a plate of fluffy pancakes. Francis was already fussing over her and trying to force some orange juice down her throat.

"Francis, I hate OJ," Anna said, blocking Francis from pouring any into her glass.

"If your body could talk, it would disagree," Francis clapped back. He again tried to maneuver some juice into her glass.

My entrance seemed to distract Francis from Anna and he bustled towards me and started to fret over my breakfast plans. 

"I actually will be skipping breakfast today, Francis," I said.

Francis looked at me with a severe expression that brooked no disagreements and said, "You'll have a plate of buttered croissants." Completely ignoring any arguments from me, he simply headed into the pantry to get me my food. 

"You aren't leaving here till you feel like ripping open the top button of your pants," Anna says through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Is he always like this?" I ask.

"He's been this way since I was 2," Anna replies. "You think I wanted these pancakes? He won't let me leave till every last morsel is licked clean off my plate."

"You've known him since you were 2?"

"Francis has been here all my life. He took me to my first day of kindergarten. He also taught me how to ride my first bicycle. I remember falling off my bike in the driveway and scraping my knee. I didn't stop crying till he cleaned all my cuts and soothed me with a big bowl of hot fudge brownie and vanilla ice cream. The man is at least a 100 years old," Anna says.

Just then Francis comes in with a plate stacked with croissants and I seem to lose the nerve of rejecting the old man his tiny request. Anna seems to think the same when she grudgingly allows him to pour her a tall glass of OJ. "You can convince me to eat anything, Fran," Anna says. She smiles at him with nothing but love in her eyes. Francis continues to dote over her, as if she were his own granddaughter, for the rest of the morning till we finally make our way to a tinted black SUV. Gabe is casually leaning against it in a sharply dressed black shirt and dark blue jeans.