— a new day —
June 11th, 1938
SOMEHOW GISELLE WAS able to convince Will to leave the couch out in the hallway, which was exactly where she found Ajay sleeping the next morning.
"Ajay," she called out in a soft voice, coming to sit on the couch right next to him. She pushed strands of his messy, black hair away from his face, running her thumb along his cheek. "Ajay, wake up," she tried to tempt him away from sleep. "Come on, I can smell someone cooking breakfast."
He groaned childishly, gathering his blanket in his arms and turning away. Giselle tried not to laugh at the action, leaning forward to sling her arm over his torso and set her chin on the top of his shoulder. "Ajay, come on. This family eats like it's their last meal. You won't get anything to eat if you don't hurry."
"Thirty more minutes," his groggy voice pleaded with her. "Go away!"
She breathed out a laugh, standing up. "Alright," she conceded, "but it's your loss." She walked away from him and moved towards the kitchen, the smell of buttery pancakes beckoning her forth. When she entered the kitchen, Frank and the kids immediately perked up from their spots at the table.
"Ellie! You're back!" Barbara was the first to exclaim, barreling out of her seat to wrap her arms around Giselle's hips.
Albert soon followed, trying to shove his sister aside to give Giselle a hug of his own. "What'd you bring us?" he asked, swatting at Barbara's arms as she held firm.
"Barb, let Albert hug her," Frank called from his spot at the table.
Barbara begrudgingly obeyed, and Albert moved in to take her spot.
Giselle smiled. "I didn't bring anything for you two." She pried Albert away from her to take a seat in between Marguerite and Frank.
"Oh, Ellie, I have so much to tell you!" Barbara said, excitement in her eyes.
"Ellie, hold!" A smaller voice sounded to Giselle's left. "Hold me, Ellie!" She turned towards Dorothy, who sat in her wooden high chair next to Marguerite, pancake crumbs coating her cloth bib and chubby cheeks.
Marguerite wiped away some of the crumbs with a napkin before picking her up and handing her off to Giselle.
"Hey, big girl," Giselle smiled as Dorothy wrapped her stubby arms around Giselle's neck. "So, Barbie, what do you have to tell me?"
She immediately started off with things happening at school, Albert chiming in every so often with tales of his own. Once she was bored of that topic, she then went off to talk about her birthday, which was in "two days, Ellie! Two days!" Then, she spoke rapid-fire about all she had planned for her birthday.
She was somewhere in the middle of talking about what dinner she wanted for her birthday when Selene slipped a plate of pancakes and sausage in front of Giselle.
Giselle smiled at the food. It reminded her of a breakfast she'd get back at home in Mississippi.
"Barb, why don't you tell her about your birthday plans after Giselle's eaten?" Selene suggested, heading back to the stove to flip more pancakes.
Barbara nodded, going back to eating her pancake. Giselle tried to do the same, but Dorothy snatched one of her pancakes and started gnawing on it.
"Heavens, Dorothy, that's not yours!" Marguerite tried to scold through her laughter. "I can take her off of you," she told Giselle.
Giselle shook her head, shooting her arms out over Dorothy's head in order to start cutting up her pancakes. "Thanks, but I've got her."
Marguerite nodded, spearing a square of pancake and popping it into her mouth. "So, last night was quite dramatic," she mentioned.
Frank frowned, looking to her. "What do you mean? Did something happen?"
"Well," Giselle started out, "someone came with me from America."
He set his fork down, leaning close in interest. "But that's impossible, right?"
She shrugged. "Apparently not."
"Well, where is this person?"
"He's sleeping right now, but he should be getting up soon. His name is Ajay if you're wondering."
Albert's mop of ash blond curls swiveled to Selene. "Is he the same Ajay you spoke about?"
"The man whose nana wants him to marry Giselle?" Barbara aimed her way as well.
Giselle nearly choked on her own saliva. "What have you been telling them?"
Selene slipped a pancake onto the stack towering next to her, then ladled more batter into the pan. "They asked how my trip to America was, so I told them about some of the people I met there, and about you and Ajay."
"Yeah," Frank affirmed. "She said he was very nice and funny, and that his grandmother wants you two to marry as Barbara said."
"And that he does tricks!" Albert chimed in.
Giselle raised a brow at Selene.
"I told them that he did gymnastics in secondary school," she said.
Giselle breathed out a laugh. "My gosh, Selene, did you give them a full spread of his life?"
"Will he show us his tricks?" Barbara asked.
"I don't know, Barb, you'll have to ask him when he wakes up."
In perfect timing, Ajay sauntered into the kitchen, his hair messy and shirt unbuttoned enough to show his dark chest hair.
"Mhm it smells wonderful in here," he said as he stretched. He grinned broadly when he saw Giselle, bending down to drop a kiss on the crown of her head, his hands resting on her shoulders.
He straightened when he noticed the other bodies at the table, all gaping at him. "Hello, I'm Ajay Kumar," he waved.
"I'm Frank Elias Dare, pleasure to meet you," Frank said first in his formal tone, much like how he did with Giselle the first time they met.
"I'm Albert Henrik Dare," Albert followed suit, speaking through a mouthful of pancake.
"I'm Barbara Selene Dare," Barbara said next.
Ajay smiled. "Pleased to meet you all." He turned to Marguerite, who had a flirtatious slant to her lips. "Sorry we didn't get to properly meet last night," he extended a hand. "As you've heard, I'm Ajay, and you are . . ?"
Marguerite smiled bashfully, taking his hand. "I'm Marguerite Dubois," she revealed, saying her name in a French accent that Giselle rarely heard her use.
"Ah, so you're French," Ajay discovered. "I speak a little French from school, but don't quiz me on it."
Marguerite giggled. "My grand-mère was French and spoke strictly in French so that I wouldn't forget it. I could teach you a few phrases if you would like."
"I'll have to take you up on that offer sometime. You know, I've been wanting to go to France since I was a little boy."
"Oh, it's lovely!" Marguerite told him. "I guarantee you'll enjoy it!"
"Ajay," Selene called out from across the kitchen, disrupting their conversation. "How many pancakes?"
"As many as I'm allowed," he said, going over to the stack of pancakes. "I'm absolutely starved."
By the time he settled at the table in the seat across from Giselle with his plate of pancakes, Giselle was already halfway through with her plate. It was a hassle trying to get her fork to her mouth without letting Dorothy reach up and snatch it from her, but she managed.
"Aunt Selene says you can do tricks," Frank said. "Can you show us some after breakfast?"
"'Tricks?'" Ajay asked, his eyes sweeping to Selene's.
"She told them about how you did gymnastics in high school," Giselle explained, pulling his attention to her.
"Oh, yeah I did," Ajay said. "Um, well, I'm a bit unseasoned, but I'm sure that I could show you kids a few things. What do you want to see? I think I could still do a black flip off of a tree or a wall."
Frank's eyes brightened. "I don't even know what that is, but it sounds fun. Can you teach me?"
"And me too!" Albert added.
"And me!" Barbara had to say as well.
"Your brother will lose his ever-loving mind if you kids start doing flips and tricks," Giselle told them. Leaning closer to them, she lowered my voice. "So you'll have to do it in secret."
Frank nodded for the group, then looked at Ajay. "Will you teach us?"
"Sure, but Giselle's right, Will doesn't need to find out. I have a feeling that he doesn't like me too much."
"He doesn't," Albert told him. "He hasn't liked you ever since Selene mentioned you when she got back. But I like you, you seem like loads of fun."
"That's because I am," Ajay replied cockily.
"Are you done with your plate, hon?" Selene asked Giselle as she approached the table. Giselle nodded, taking her last bite of pancake before setting her knife and fork down and handing off the plate.
Selene grinned when she saw Dorothy. "My goodness, Dorothy, you're such a messy little thing."
Giselle followed her gaze, grimacing when she saw the pancake the toddler had snatched from her plate shredded all over their laps. "Dorothy," she admonished.
Marguerite took Dorothy from her. "I'll go get her cleaned up while you go shake off those crumbs outside." She took off with the babbling toddler as Giselle stood up, holding up the hem of her nightgown to prevent any crumbs from getting onto the floor.
She carefully walked towards the back door, letting go of the hem and brushing off the crumbs as soon as her feet touched the dewy grass.
"What happened to you?" A voice asked from her right.
She whipped her head towards the voice, shocked to see Will standing at the tree stump with his trusty-dusty axe in hand. He was in his 'wood-chopping' attire as she liked to call it—a white undershirt and dirty brown work trousers.
"What are you doing here?" she asked him, ignoring the feeling of wet grass against her bare feet as she headed towards him. "I thought you were at work."
He shrugged. "I took off. I thought about what you said when I was trying to fall asleep last night and realized that I do need a day off."
"And you've spent your day off chopping wood?" she asked him. "Yeah, that sounds like you're really having a relaxing day to yourself."
He rolled his eyes. "I've been needing to chop wood for a while now," he told her. "Might as well do it while I'm not busy."
She shook her head in disapproval. "I give up on you." She started towards the back door, but stopped when she realized something. "Ajay needs some clothes. Do you mind lending him some?"
He rolled his eyes but nodded anyways. She watched as he stuck the axe into the stump before heading her way.
Soon, they were in Will's room. As Will looked through his dresser for clothes, Giselle sat on the cushioned seat at the foot of his bed, looking around at the plain bedroom.
"Here," Will said after a while, handing her a pile of clothes.
"Thanks," she told him, surveying the clothes. "What about shoes?"
He turned around and headed into his closet, coming back with a pair of his large, brown lace-up dress shoes.
"Thanks, this should be good. He just needs to look presentable enough to not stick out when we go into town."
"You're going into town?"
Giselle nodded. "Yeah, Ajay needs some clothes. I was gonna take him to Gastrell & Butler."
"Give me time to change and I will go with you," he told him, heading into his en-suite to presumably change.
"What? No, you're not coming," she informed him, standing up from her seat. "There's no need."
"You'll need a chaperone."
"Then I'll take Marguerite with us," she shot back.
He went quiet for a few moments, probably trying to find something to counter her with. To her misfortune, he eventually did.
"I'm a man and you'll be shopping for men's clothes," he said. "Neither you, nor Marguerite, nor Ajay have been shopping in this time period for men's clothes. Therefore, I am best suited to go with."
She bite at her lip, realizing that he was right. "Fine," she spat out, "but no snide comments or overprotectiveness, got it?"
He didn't say anything, shutting the door to the en-suite, the sound of the lock clicking into place acting as a punctuation mark to his action.
• — • — •
Unsurprisingly, Giselle was the last one ready to leave for the shops, but that wasn't entirely her fault. Personally, she blamed the strict hairstyle trend of the 1930s. The waves, the curls, the perfectly-styled swoops—it was exhausting work.
Part of her wanted to throw in the towel and go out in a messy bun without a lick of makeup on her face, but 1938 cared too much about a person's image to be that forgiving. She could practically hear all of the gossiping about her now.
Unfortunately, she had never set her hair into curls after her shower the night prior, which left her to corral her hair into something acceptable with the help of the heat tools she had brought from home.
Eventually, she escaped the bathroom looking like she belonged to the decade as much as Marguerite did. She wasn't surprised to see Will the Punctual leaning up against the wall opposite the bathroom, his arms crossed like usual. He had been urging her to hurry up for the last half hour.
Will was dressed in a white button-up short-sleeve shirt and khaki trousers with his shiny, brown dress shoes matching the belt at his hips. Giselle realized that it was actually quite pleasant to see in him something other than his suit or work clothes for once.
"Were you ignoring me?" he questioned. "I've been telling you to make haste for the past thirty minutes now."
"Oh, you did?" she feigned innocence, walking past him to go into her room.
"Yes, I did. I told everyone to be ready at 09:45. It is now 10:02." She followed his actions from earlier, shutting the door and locking it without replying. "I'll give you five minutes," he called out.
She continued to ignore him, going to her closet to pull out a mint-colored day dress that stopped at her shins and buttoned up to her collarbone. Once she had her other necessities on, she stuffed her feet into her white heels and called it a day.
She eventually emerged, coming face to face with Will. "Well, do I look like a woman of this decade?" she asked him, gesturing to her outfit.
He looked her over quickly before snapping his eyes back up to her face. "You took six minutes," was all that he said before taking off down the hallway.
She followed after him, meeting up with Marguerite and Ajay in the foyer. Marguerite wore a similar dress, though hers was bright yellow that matched her bright personality. And Ajay . . . well, Ajay's outfit didn't suit him well at all.
His pants were a hair too long, the hemlines nearly puddling around his feet, and the shirt hung awkwardly on his slim, athletic figure. Despite that, Giselle still thought he was dashing.
"Wow, you look gorgeous," he expressed when he saw her, stepping forward to slip his arms around her waist and peck her on the cheek.
She was barely able to mutter a "thank you" when Will abruptly opened the door and gruffly told them to follow.
Ajay raised an eyebrow. "Well, this doesn't seem like it will be a fun trip."
• — • — •
Giselle had never been shopping with Marguerite before, and she wasn't sure she wanted to ever again.
Marguerite had whisked them away from Ajay and Will in the men's department and charged to the women's department where she had a field day picking out different dresses and blouses and skirts for her and Giselle to try on.
Giselle felt like she was six again and her mother had dragged her to the store to get clothes for the new school year.
"Oh, look at this one, Giselle," Marguerite said, lifting a beautiful, silk dress from the rack and holding it out for Giselle to view. It was a deep blue with thin straps and shiny, blue beading around the v-shaped neckline. "Isn't this just darling? Oh, it would look lovely on you."
Giselle stepped forward, feeling the silky fabric between her fingers. "It really is a pretty dress, but where would I even wear that to?"
Marguerite held it up to Giselle. "I have not a clue, but I'm sure I could find an event. It works so well with your skin tone. And it makes your eyes even bluer." She looked at to Giselle. "You have to try it on."
Giselle was barely able to nod in agreement before Marguerite was shoving her towards the fitting room.
Giselle decided to save her energy by not protesting, and slipped into a changing room to put on the dress. But when she had it on, she was glad that she had complied with Marguerite's suggestion.
She felt like a million bucks when she walked out of the room to stand on the pedestal in front of the mirrors where Marguerite impatiently waited.
The dress fit her wonderfully, framing her curves while still allowing her room to breathe. The color looked great on her, doing everything Marguerite had said it would do.
"Oh, you have to get it, Ellie!" Marguerite exclaimed. "It even fits you well—like it was made for you."
"I can't get this," Giselle said, turning around to look at the back of the dress in the mirror. "But you're right, it does fit me well."
"Come on, I'll purchase it for you," Marguerite said.
Giselle frowned, looking to the girl. "What? No, I can't let you do that."
"Yes you can, and you will. I inherited tons of money from my father," Marguerite told her. "I have more money than I know what to do with!"
Giselle frowned. "If you have so much money, then why are you always trying to marry rich?" she couldn't help but ask.
Marguerite's happy mood shut off instantly, her face perfectly stoic and neutral, though Giselle could see the dark look in the girl's eyes.
"If you were to have seen what my life looked like before my father remarried, you wouldn't be asking me that," Marguerite said, her voice icy. She quickly softened her features, sighing. "I know what struggling is, and I refuse to let my future children ever experience that. Even though I inherited my father's money doesn't mean I don't want extra insurance in the form of a husband."
Giselle stared at the girl, her eyebrows lifted in surprise. She wanted to know more, but didn't pry. It seemed that Marguerite wasn't as spoiled and greedy as she had thought.
"Oh," was all Giselle could say. "Um, I really don't know what to say," she admitted.
Marguerite scoffed. "Yeah, I suppose I wouldn't either." She dropped her eyes, something akin to vulnerability straightening her lips and softening her eyes. "I understand that you don't like me," she said aloud. "And don't bother lying, we both know that you find me annoying."
She looked up to Giselle. "I want to be your friend, Ellie. I've never had a good friend before, but, to me, you're the closest I've ever gotten to having one." She sighed. "I guess what I'm asking is for you to be willing to try being my friend. I promise I'll try not to annoy you. I just want a confidant, and someone to laugh with. I think that's all I've ever wanted."
Giselle's heart ached for the girl. She knew Marguerite wasn't lying. There was sincerity all over her face, and a sadness in her eyes that reinforced every word she spoke.
She saw it then, a small glimpse into what an actual friendship with Marguerite could be like. She normally avoided Marguerite, finding her vain and annoying, but realized that that wasn't the case.
Marguerite had layers, more so than the shallow facade Giselle had originally seen.
So, Giselle's lips quirked into a soft smile as she said, "Alright. I'm willing to try."
Marguerite beamed. "Really? That's great!"
"But, Marguerite, I'm really sorry that—"
"Ah, ah, ah," Marguerite held up a hand, "you can apologize by accepting my generous gift, Ellie."
Giselle grinned, looking back to her reflection. "Fine," she said, rolling her eyes teasingly before heading back to the fitting room to change.
She emerged with her dress draped over her forearm. "Ready to check out?"
"Yes. The boys are probably done by now." They left the room, finding the department clerk and checking out.
"You know," Marguerite started as they began walking out of the women's department, "if Ajay wasn't with you, I wouldn't think twice about snatching him up. He's very handsome."
Giselle smiled. "That he is. And he's so sweet, too. He's really a great guy."
"Do you like him more than Will?" Marguerite blurted out.
"What?" Giselle breathed out, stunned by the question.
Marguerite tilted her head, studying Giselle intently. "You heard me. Do you like him more than Will?" Her eyes narrowed, voice lowering. "Who really owns your heart, Giselle?"
The question shouldn't have made Giselle feel as uneasy as it did. "Marge, you can't just—"
"Hello, ladies," a suave voice cut off Giselle's words.
For once, Giselle was relieved to see Steven Sandoval standing before her, who was in the process of dragging his eyes over Giselle's figure, a smirk perfectly placed on his lips.
"My beautiful American," he greeted, his eyes finally making it back up to her face. "You're a refreshing sight to see."
"Hello, Steven," Giselle greeted politely. "Still as charming as always, I see."
He looked to Marguerite, nodding to her in acknowledgment. "Marguerite, lovely to see you as well."
Marguerite smiled. "Likewise." She looked to Giselle. "I'll leave you two to chat, I think I left something in the women's department." She rushed off, Giselle watching her go and trying to swallow down her protest.
"So," Steven said, bringing Giselle's eyes to him as he took a step closer. "I've been thinking."
"And what have you been thinking about, exactly?" Giselle asked, crossing her arms.
"You," Steven replied swiftly, his blue eyes dancing with mischief. "You and me, to be exact."
"'You and me?'" Giselle questioned. "Well, that seems like a boring topic."
Steven's smile only brightened. "Oh, I quite love this topic, really. I can divulge some of the thoughts I've had concerning it, if you would like. They're very . . . enthralling."
Giselle pursed her lips in contempt. The way he looked at her made her want to shift in discomfort, and his words felt slimy as they slipped into her ears. "Do they consist of me walking away from this conversation? Because that seems quite 'enthralling' to me."
Steven laughed. "No, darling, they're nothing like that. I could tell you over dinner, if you'd like."
"No thank you," Giselle said. "Something tells me that I might not like dinner with you."
"Oh, I believe the opposite." He took yet another step closer, almost too close to be considered proper. "Something tells me that you'll love it." Giselle squirmed under his gaze. "Go to dinner with me and find out," he challenged.
Will seemed to materialize out of thin air before Giselle could answer Steven, Will's body shoving in between the two.
"I told you to stay away from her, Sandoval," Will growled, staring Steven down with a fiery glare.
Steven laughed lazily. "Ah, William, haven't you learned that I don't care what you say to me?" His eyes darted over to Giselle. "Well, my beautiful American, what is your answer?"
"Her answer is 'no,'" Will said firmly. "Now, leave."
Steven stayed in his spot, slipping his hands into his pockets casually as he kept his eyes on Giselle. Will shifted to shield her better, earning a chuckle from Steven.
"William, you're blocking my view," he said nonchalantly, as if the angry man before him didn't scare him in the slightest.
"Leave," Will hissed.
"Not until I get an answer from my beautiful American."
"Don't call her that."
"I can call—"
"Let's go, Will," Giselle said, having had enough. She stepped out from behind Will. "And my answer is 'no,' by the way. I'm actually with someone now, actually."
Steven's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze flashing to Will. "It's not you, is it?" A muscle in Will's jaw ticked, a bellowing laugh erupting from Steven at the sight. "It isn't," Steven realized. "You must be—"
"Come on, Giselle," Will said suddenly, turning around quickly. He placed a hand on her back, guiding her away. "He didn't say anything unsavory to you, did he?" Will asked out of earshot.
"No," Giselle said. She looked around for Ajay and Marguerite. "Where is Ajay?"
"In the men's department," Will answered. "Marguerite is with him."
Giselle furrowed her brows in confusion. "But Marguerite said she was going to the women's department to get something and left me with Steven."
"What? No, she came straight to me telling me Steven was with you." Will frowned.
Giselle scoffed to herself, smiling. Maybe all along, Marguerite's meddling with Giselle and Will had been her way of trying to be a good friend.
"What's that look for?" Will asked, eyeing her smile. He smiled as well, as if he couldn't help himself.
Giselle shook her head. "Nothing, just thinking about a friend."
• • • • • • • • • • •
Word count: 4,362 words.
Question: What is your favorite breakfast food?
I love a full English breakfast, even though I am American. My family recently went to Universal Studios and every single morning I tried to go get a full English at one of the Harry Potter restaurants because I am obsessed. I know it's probably not an authentic full English, but it's still SO GOOD!
PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT TO MAKE ME SMILE!!!