Jiraiya

The meeting

 

The soft screeching sound of tires announced our presence as my car came to a stop in front of the four-door garage of my parents’ home. I stepped out almost immediately; rushing over to the other side of the car.  My attempt to be a gentleman was thwarted by Gracen, who let herself out of the car just before I got to the door.

"Really?" I said as I heard the door open, catching sight of Gracen as she stepped out.

"You don't have to open doors for me all the time, you know."

She gently closed the door behind her, stretching her left arm out towards my direction, her purse in her other hand.

"But you could do this," she added with an adorable smile.

"Yeah, right," I responded before taking her hand, clutching it in my arm.

Gracen looked dazzling under the early morning sun.  I was dressed simply in a pair of white linen pants and a grey buttoned down long-sleeved shirt. I was in no way a guest in my parent's home, so luxury wasn't part of my wardrobe for the day.

Gracen had tried to keep it gracefully unpretentious; she wasn't so sure about how receptive or approving my parents would be of her fashion style. I was of little help.  My only advice was that my parents were cool people and her clothing wouldn’t matter a bit. Gracen knew better than to listen to me.

She was draped in a knee-length, white fitted dress with green flowery patches all over. The dress blended beautifully with her skin color. She wore a simple, yet exquisite, piece of jewelry and a small green handbag to go with it.

The front door flew open as soon as we reached the doorway.  Lucy, the housekeeper greeted us, dressed in a black uniform with a white apron tied around her ample waistline.

"Hello Sir, it's so nice to see you; we have been expecting you."

"Hello Lucy, it is good to see you. How have you been? It's been a while."

“I am good Sir,” she replied giving me a friendly smile. She stepped back from the doorway to let us in, before closing the front door behind her.

"Babe, this is Lucy.   She takes care of my parent’s home and she does such a wonderful job. She and Rose, our cook, have become part of the family." I face Gracen as I introduced her to Lucy.

"Meet my fiancée, Gracen," I added with a flourish.

They exchanged warm pleasantries as we stood there in the foyer.

"Where are father and mother?" I asked Lucy as we walked toward the sitting room. Gracen seated herself on one of the beautifully designed cushioned chairs. 

"They are upstairs. I will get them right away," Lucy responded. "I was helping Rose with breakfast in the kitchen just before you arrived," she added before darting off.

Lucy’s mission was cut short by the sound of my mother’s voice and footsteps coming from the stairs at the far end of the living room.

"Jiraiya!" my mother called out affectionately, excitement peppering her voice. “I thought I heard your voice.”

"Mother!" I replied with joy in my heart, and turned in her direction.

"So nice to see you Son," my mother said as she took hold of me, drawing me in to a warm hug. “It’s been much too long.” She gave me an extra squeeze as she fussed over me.

One could tell, just by looking at us, that we had shared many memorable moments together and that we loved each other dearly.

“Where is she?" My mother asked after she had released me from the hug, and before catching a glimpse of the seated Gracen. 

I chuckled from the expression on my lovely mother’s face.

"Oh my! You are so gorgeous, my dear," mother said, as she advanced into the room.  Gracen rose, eager to give and take the embrace.

“Thank you, Mrs. Sampson,” Gracen responded shyly with a visible blush to her fair cheeks.

"Where is father, mother?" I asked.

"He said he would be down in a moment," she responded without looking at me, her gaze still transfixed on Gracen. “You did not tell me she was this gorgeous Son."

Another round of footsteps could be heard walking down the stairs.

"Good morning, father," I greeted with my hand outstretched, heading towards the stairs.

My father had a slight smile on his face as he slowly walked his way down the stairs. I glanced back at Gracen. I could tell she was nervous. I gave her a comforting smile before turning back to my father.

"Morning Son," he replied shaking my hand before he pulled me into a back patting short embrace.

We walked back to the sitting room, so I could introduce my father to the woman I hoped to make my wife.

"There is someone I would love you to meet, father," I said, as I went to Gracen’s side and clutched her hand in mine. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze to calm her apprehension.

"Father...meet Gracen...my fiancée. She is the one I've been talking to you about over the phone," I said, as he stood before us.

"Hello Mr. Sampson. It’s so nice to finally meet you and your wife," Gracen said shyly, gesturing her arm in my mother's direction.

My father nodded his head in greeting. He had a tight smile on his lips as he made his way over to sit in his favorite chair. 

"Jiraiya has said quite a lot about you over the phone,” he told her as he sat. “No wonder the boy can’t find his way home more often,” he added.

Gracen and I went to sit in the chairs directly opposite him and adjacent to my mother. “I’ve been busy in the office,” I replied in way of apology. “You taught me to be at the top of my game and that’s what I’m doing.”

"Is Rose done in the kitchen? I'm hungry." Father responded, ignoring me, almost immediately facing mother.

"Rose is almost done with the meal," my mother replied.

“Good," he stated.

"So, my son told us you are a model?" He turned his attention towards Gracen once again; eyes hard and piercing. I flash him a look, telling him to behave, but he pretends not to see.

"Yes, Sir. I am a fashion model for a global magazine and several local magazines.” 

"Oh, wow," my mother exclaimed in admiration.  

"And how has prancing around in front of a camera worked out for you so far?" My father probed; paying no mind to his wife's surprised gasp.

"Well... It has been good so far; quite challenging having to be on the move at a moment’s notice.  But all in all, it's been a wonderful experience,” she responded, as though she had prepared for the question.   Only I knew she was anything but calm.

The look on my father's face however did not suggest that he was impressed with her answer—not one bit. He stared at Gracen intently, as if trying to study her and see into her character.

"As a fashion model, what exactly do you do?" He asked with a smirk to his lips.

Gracen seemed as if she could sense the distaste in his tone; I certainly could.  In direct contrast, my mother was so overwhelmed with excitement that she barely noticed anything out of the ordinary. I saw through Father’s calm demeanor; I knew he was asking routine questions to assess my soon-to-be bride.  It was beginning to get out of hand.

Gracen tried to take it all in stride as she answered my father’s questions. "Well...basically, I get paid to appear in front of the camera," she blurted out, trying to sound funny.

No surprise that mother got the joke; she burst into loud laughter. My father maintained his tight-lipped smile, earning him a frown of disapproval from me.  Father continued his quizzing as if he were the family lawyer.

"So, I am guessing there are times you might have to-- how do they say it these days; bare it all?"

The look on everyone's face, with the exception of my father’s, was one of instant shock, confusion, and blankness. My mom had her mouth ajar, her palms placed on her cheeks in embarrassment.

Just as he was about to speak further, Rose the cook swept into the room.

"Good morning, Jiraiya. It’s good to have you home. Good morning to everyone, breakfast is served!"

A deafening silence reverberated around the vast room, sending chills down my spine. I looked up at the high ceiling in exasperation.

I stood, and Gracen struggled to get to her feet on wobbly and shaky legs. I knew that my father’s words had thrown her off balance and she was struggling for composure. I assisted her to her feet and took her palms in my hands; they were cold and sweaty. I cursed silently as we walked towards the dining room.

"Don’t pay my father any mind, Gracen. It's going to be alright; he is not usually like this. I will speak to him as soon as this meal is over," I spoke softly into her ear so only she could hear as I tried to reassure her.

She looked up, sadly, into my eyes as we walked. I could see her anger and disappointment lurking in their depths. I hoped to God that she could see the sincerity in my eyes and understood that I wouldn’t put up with my father treating her in the way that he did. I felt unspeakable sadness as I saw the deeply etched look on Gracen’s face.

We ate in utter silence.  For most of the meal, mother tried to crack some jokes but none of us were in the mood. The expression on Gracen’s face said a thousand words.

Gracen and I left at exactly noon. The rest of our visit was fairly brightened up by my mom's efforts; she had tried her motherly best to cheer up my fiancée and she had managed to pull a few strings.

We shared a warm hug with my mother before Gracen and I bade the family goodbye.

I led her through the garage in silence. The consecutive slamming sounds of both doors as each of us got into my vehicle brought an immediate end to the hush.

"Your father doesn't like me!" Gracen finally said with soberness lacing every word.

I turned to look at Gracen; her expression said it all. She was distraught.

“Don’t say that, he likes you. That’s just his way of expressing himself," I attempted to console her.

"He doesn't like me and it's because I am a model."

"I am sure he didn’t mean it that way. Don't worry I will fix the situation, I promise."

It was evident that father did not like Gracen, simply because she was a model.   He had not held back his distaste. Our journey back to Gracen's place was, for the most part, heavily cloaked in awkwardness. I could read Gracen's thoughts all through the trip by the expression on her face.

As I parked my SUV in front of her house and the engine noise died down, there was a long meditative pause.  Gracen finally spoke.

"So, what are we going to do now that it’s obvious your old man doesn't like me?"

"Stop saying that," I repeated, trying to persuade her when, in actual fact, both of us knew the truth. "It’s all going to turn out well.

"Well, if you say so," Gracen sighed.

"For what it’s worth, my mother likes you a lot," I stated, trying to ease the tension in the air. "And I like you too. In fact, I love you. Which makes it two against one and I am pretty sure Rose the cook likes you and Lucy does, too," I added with a smile.

"Really, Jiraiya?" She asked

"What? I was just kidding,” I feigned ignorance. Hurt by my words, she moved to leave but I swiftly pulled her back, holding on to her waist. The gear system between us was the only things preventing me from swooping her into my arms.

"Listen to me, Darling. It's all going to be okay. I promise you. There isn’t anything in the universe which could tear us apart.”

Gracen slowly looked into my eyes; I hoped my eyes emitted genuineness. I really meant what I had just said.

"I hope so," she let out in a small voice.

I pulled her closer into my arms as the faint smell of her perfume wafted into my nostrils. I wanted to make love to her right then and there until my senses were numb. I convinced myself that I would stand up to my father and fight for our love.

I pulled away to stare deeply into her sky-blue eyes, breathing in slowly as I took in the freshness of her scent, before planting a soft kiss on her lips.

Gracen responded.  She suddenly became unresisting as she trembled in my grasp. I could feel the quaking of her body; the fear of the uncertainty that suddenly lurked in our future.

I broke the kiss and drew slightly away from her lips as I whispered again, “I love you, my darling.” Her eyes were still tightly closed, and I soothed her with more placating words. "It's going to be okay, Babe. It's all going to be fine."

My lips latched onto hers again and resumed the warm, passionate kiss. I became oblivious to every other thought; the only thought on my mind was to make her my wife, soon.

 

*****

Later that night after leaving Gracen's place, I burst into my parents’ vast sitting room for the second time in a day. The look on my face wasn't anything close to what it had been some hours before.

Rose came rushing in from the kitchen; the swinging door slamming against its frame. The sound echoed through the house as the maid greeted me with a surprised look on her face.

"Mr. Jiraiya.”

"Where is father?" I thundered, stopping whatever dialogue might come next.

The shock on Rose’s weathered face switched immediately to a look of concern. Her mouth remained open, but nothing was said.

I wasn’t in the mood to stop and explain things to Rose. I headed in the direction of the stairs in quick movement. Just then, swift footsteps filled the air. My mother came rushing down from the second-floor landing. She had a troubled look on her face.

"What's wrong Jiraiya?" She enquired; a visible look of concern mottled her face. "We weren't expecting you again so soon. I thought I heard you shouting. "

I stopped in my stride.

"Where is father, mother?" I asked, paying no mind to the questions asked or the troubled expression on her face.

"Is anything the matter?" She asked again, trying to understand what was going on.

Just as I was about to speak further, a voice came from the upper level staircase.

"You can't marry her!" The voice said calmly, albeit sternly.

"And why is that, father? Is it because of your domineering nature— a habit which you have refused to let go or overcome—or because you are just too unhappy yourself to want to see your only son happy?" I thundered in protest.

"I don’t give a damn about ruining your happiness if happiness is with that bimbo. You can't marry her and that’s that!” My father said again in his thunderous and, at the same time, demanding voice.

"You see that, mother? You see?" I asked, turning my gaze towards my mother with my arms swung wide apart, gesturing my cluelessness about my father's behavior.

"Why do you have to be so damn overbearing? I don’t see how the hell you put up with him all these years mother, father has always wanted to have his way on things that don’t concern him. But this time, it's not going to happen. I won't let it." I shouted turning my gaze back to my father, who had remained on the top landing of the stairs.

“Listen for a minute Son, you have—"

"You heard what I said before, father? I won't let you stop my happiness!" I said in exasperation, cutting him off.

“Calm down Son. Your father doesn’t..." my mother started to say but my father cut her short before she had it all out.

“Shut up Martha!” He roared.

“Oh Lord!” Rose muttered behind me. She was visibly shocked and concerned; this was the first time she had ever seen me out of control. I had always been a charming and obedient young man whenever I was around her.

"Jiraiya, you just need to calm down and let's talk this over," my mother suggested calmly, trying to douse the tension in the room.

"No disrespect but there is nothing to talk about mother." I stated in protest.

"You know I’m right don't you? How he treats you; he chooses what you wear, places you go, people you meet, and the food you eat? It's inherent in him; it's his nature," I added shaking my head from side to side.

"We’ve put up with this attitude for so long. But I'm no longer having any of it! I had to go through all the unhealthy existence of schooling in that despicable boarding school as a child and you called that the perfect upbringing. As if that weren’t enough, you only came visiting once in two months when other children had their parents come visit them at least twice a month."

“Please, don’t Jiraiya. My problems with your father don’t concern you,” my mother had a pleading look in her eyes.

Something must really be terribly wrong with mother to defend a beast of a man like my father, I thought to myself as I stood there, confused and angry. I had lied to Gracen when I said my parents were cool. I had done it so she wouldn't worry.

"And look how you turned out, Son." My father cut me to shreds in his rant.

"Yeah, I own one of the top real estate firms in the country and I get involved in a variety of charity events. It doesn't change the fact that I am not happy with your behavior towards Gracen! And you have made it so with your uncompromising ways," I responded in my rebuttals. "Nothing that I ever do is grand enough for you.”

"Son, she is a model for Christ’s sake. How can any decent young lady even choose that as a profession? Don't you see the pictures?" My father asked, trying to spark some sense of reasoning from me.

"Apparently, you seem to have seen quite a number of pictures in your life time. The only picture I see is that of my wedding with Gracen; framed beautifully by the very best of artists and hung strategically on the wall in my living room where everyone can get a view.  But you won’t be in the pictures, if you don't quit this damn attitude of yours!"

I was just as angry as my father was and we argued back and forth. I was glad that Gracen wasn’t here to see me like this. My mother rushed to my side— her eyes watery with tears. I took her shaky hands in mine. “I am sorry Mother, but the truth had to be said." My mother and father both watched me in surprise, unable to utter any word.

I raked a hand through my thick crop of wavy hair, rumpling it like the now rumpled clothes I had on. I stood there trembling as anger continued to course through me. An unfamiliar pounding had begun in my head, but I pushed the feeling aside.

The stern look on my father’s face had begun to disappear. I wanted to believe that my angry and anguished words had gotten through to him; that I had touched some spot in him that weakened him deeply.

"I am sorry Son. I didn’t know that you resented the methods I employed in turning you into a sensible young man."

A palpable silence filled the atmosphere in the sitting room; no one said anything for a while.

Warm salty tears slowly rolled down my mother’s cheeks; her soft whimpers brought an abrupt end to the silence in the room.

Rose walked around me and patted my mother on the back as she tried to comfort her—she was shedding tears of her own. Rose was almost family—she knew where all the skeletons were buried.

The tension in the room started to abate as I let out a heavy sigh.

Father began his descent down the stairs slowly.  He was visibly shaken by the events that had unfolded in the last few minutes.

My mother's feeble whimper had turned to uncontrollable sobbing as Rose tried to comfort her. Father got close to his wife and pulled her out of Rose’s embrace and into his arms, holding her tightly; while I stood wishing things had turned out different.

He hugged her tightly and whispered softly into her ears.

"I am sorry... I am sorry but Jiraiya shouldn’t marry that glorified exhibitionist!"

Words that were meant to comfort made my mother weep more. He contained her in his arms, all the while glowering at me.  I slowly shook my head, feeling dejected.

I crossed my arms over my chest as I looked on at my parents; Father continued to hold my weeping mother. I sighed and felt the world heavy on my shoulders. Cease fire, I told myself. Enough fighting for one day. Inwardly I increased my resolve to marry Gracen...with or without my father’s well wishes.

"I'm sorry Martha...for everything," my father finally let out.

"I know, Frank, I know... it’s okay," she muttered softly in response.

I walked out of my parents’ home, leaving my hard-nosed father to console his long-suffering wife. I walked into the night with the love of my beautiful Gracen strong in my heart.