Christmas with the Allencourts

* * *

A month later

“So, how is married life?” Bridget asked when she and Quisha met for a late breakfast.”

Quisha shrugged her shoulders.

“Well considering it’s not a real marriage, it’s going as well as it can be at the moment,” Quisha said. “He lives in his mansion and I live at my apartment. Every now and then I spend the night at the mansion for show. You know his neighbors and family are extremely nosy and watchful.”

“I couldn’t live like that,” Bridget said.

“I can’t either, but it’s temporary and I am living the life I always wanted by default,” Quisha said.

“Yes, I guess. Seems crazy to me,” Bridget said.

“That’s because it is crazy, but, hey. Why not?” Quisha said. “Remember how we used to dream of being married to a rich man and having the perks of money and living in a mansion?”

“Yes,” Bridget answered.

“Well, it’s not really what it is cracked up to be. If this was real, I would be alone a lot because he is always going on business trips,” Quisha said while she stirred her coffee and looked down into the cup, watching the contents swirl around.

“Something on your mind, Cuz?”

“Chad confuses me at times. He tells me he likes me, even loves me but then he reminds me our marriage is temporary.”

“Are you falling in…love with him?” Bridget asked.

“I tried to deny it. I didn’t want to believe it, but after a few months of knowing him I was Hooked.”

“Are you sure you’re not dickamized or blinded by—how much he is worth?” Bridget asked.

Quisha laughed. “I’m pretty sure it’s not the sex. The money is a definite perk, but there’s something there.”

“Is his family treating you better?” Bridget asked.

“Not at all,” Quisha answered. “And I have to get ready for a Christmas party this Friday. I’m dreading it. His brother is an ass and his sister is cold and distant. But his mother, well she may not make it to New Year so I will be there to support Chad.”

“Chad,” Bridget reiterated. “You should have heard the tone of your voice just now when you said his name. “Chad” she teased.

* * *

Christmas party

Quisha spent the night at the mansion so that when Chad got home from being out of town on a business trip, they could get dressed and go straight to his mother’s house. He had given her a thousand dollars to go buy a dress for the occasion.

Before he got back, she went to her favorite mall and went to various stores looking for the perfect, knockout dress. She found a cranberry-colored sequin dress just waiting for her. It was curve-hugging and backless and she found some matching silk stilettoes.

“Wow,” Chad said when he got home and saw her already dressed. He walked over and stood in her space, placed a hand against her hip and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “You look gorgeous. Let me hurry and get dressed.”

His plane was late, which then made them late. He rushed upstairs to shower and came back down in a charcoal gray suit and a burgundy silk tie. She smiled at his effort to match what she had on.

“Let’s go,” he said.

* * *

Allencourt Family home

The party was going strong when they got there. Quisha always loved Christmas time. She loved the lights, the smells and the feeling of family and friends. When they walked into the great room, Quisha could feel eyes on her appraising her, wondering why she was there. She felt awkward and demeaned. People were judging her solely on her skin color and Chad had left her alone in a corner feeling vulnerable.

Why did I agree to this? she thought to herself. Just then Bryan sidled over to her. His eyes involuntarily scanned her from top to bottom. He stood in her personal space and she reached out and pushed him back. With his eyes trained on her cleavage he said,

“You don’t belong in this family.” His voice was menacingly low so he wouldn’t be overheard.

“Get away from me—you’re drunk,” she said and turned to leave. But he grabbed her arm and held her against him. She wrenched herself free.

“Don’t grab me like that,” Quisha said.

Christmas at the Allencourt house was a sight to behold. Family from all over the United States celebrated with them and with Chad’s mother;—family who had not seen her in years came to pay their last respects in a sense, not knowing if she was going to make it into the next year.

Bryan was never really a drinker, but with his mother dying he had more than his share that night. His true thoughts about Quisha always came through loud and clear when he was sober, but a side of him she’d never seen before started to rear its ugly head.

He was infatuated with her. She’d known that for some time and he found any excuse to be in her face as he followed her around the party antagonizing her. Chad watched his brother for a moment, not knowing what he was saying to Quisha. When he saw that she was uncomfortable he stepped in and grabbed his brother by the arm and leaned in and whispered, “Leave her alone.”

“Or what?” Bryan responded, ready to fight anyone who got in his way.

“Like her or not, she is my wife. I won’t hesitate to punch you in the face if you don’t stop,” Chad said through clenched teeth.

“Wait—you have feelings for that Black wh—” Chad didn’t let him get it out; without a second thought or caring about who saw it, he punched his brother in the face. Stacy saw it and rushed over.

“My god, why did you do that?” she asked and looked at her husband as he nursed a bruised jaw.

“Ask him,” Chad said and went and looked for Quisha, who had maneuvered her way through the guests and outside for some fresh air. It was a particularly cold winter and she wondered why she was still a part of the madness that was the Allencourt family.

“I’m sorry about my brother,” Chad said. “Come back in; it’s too cold to be out here with no coat on.”

Quisha didn’t budge.

“I don’t care,” she said. “I’m not going back in there to be insulted and treated like trash by your family.”

Chad took off his suit coat and draped it around her shoulders.

“I apologize for my brother and I will deal with him. Come back in,” Chad pleaded again.

She agreed but she didn’t go back in to the party. Chad took her to his mother’s office instead. There was no one in there and she could relax or watch TV until Chad was ready to leave. She only agreed to be nice. He’d told her it wouldn’t be in good form to miss what could possibly be his mother’s last Christmas.

As she sat in the room, she looked outside at the snowflakes as they lazily fell to the ground, then she focused on the bookshelf. An interesting book caught her eye. She saw Black Baby and uncovered the rest of the book. How to Raise a Black Baby by Lisbeth Handel.

Quisha pulled it from the book shelf. It was partially hidden; she furrowed her brow and flipped the book over. A picture of a white woman holding what appeared to be a mixed race baby.

She opened the book and an old photo fell out. She studied it for a moment—it was clearly a young photo of Elizabeth holding a mixed race baby. Quisha was baffled. Who was the baby? And where was he now? When she heard footsteps heading her way she quickly put the photo in her purse without thinking, put the book back in its place, and dove for the couch and feigned like she was asleep.

“We’re leaving,” Chad said when he opened the door.

“So soon?” Quisha said. She stretched, taking the charade that she was asleep a step further.

Chad had her coat in hand and helped her to put it on. He seemed troubled, but she didn’t bother him with questions. She had her own thoughts and questions going on in her mind—a mystery that she had to solve, but it made her look at Elizabeth differently.

“Do you know everything about your mother?” Quisha asked Chad as they drove home.

“That’s a random question,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” she said and dropped the subject.