" Where's your parasol you naughty child?"

I stand straighter than the curtain rods, I ducked immediately to the alcove and picked the most elaborate parasol I can hold on to. Knowing my mother for fourteen years of my life, she has this mania for 'Elaborate appearance.'

" Time won't wait on you." There's a steely edge to her cultivated voice.

" I'm here now mom." A flat tone devoid of warmth nor cockiness.

She looked at me thoroughly, then tied the ribbons of my white bonnet.

" Sloppiness is unbecoming with your age, mind the simplest details to create a beautiful you."

" Like you mom?" I asked curiously.

" Not like me, nor anyone. But You. You should be perfect, flawless, a beautiful you."

A questioned looked retaining in my eyes and mom dismissed my inquiry with a simple nod to a halting cab.

" At last! A cab on time, slide along my dearest Portia, we'll be late for the mass."

I bite my tongue to not utter another word, for Sunday mass is so holy in mom's vocabulary.

I sang, heard scriptures, and listen to homily in autopilot. After half a day serving the Lord, I held a solemn sighed of relief, at last time to shepherd us outside.

Mom slightly straieghten her askew mini hat while elegantly having a chit chat with other females of the congregation.

All of a sudden a suffocating humidity clung to my skin, I lift my downcasted eyes and got a shock in my lifetime an intense 6 foot man with patrician features and solid built, lasciviously eyeing me, without fear nor qualm he smirked devilishly sending his intentions.

My attention turns to my mother and to my horror she makes a small bow acknowledging the presence.

Without further prompting he strolled leisurely towards us.

I lowered my eyes when I feel my Mom's simple jabbing at my side, instinctively she held my left hand a bit tightly.

" Good day sir! Such a benevolent day it is."

" It is, madame -"

" Birsch."

" And the lady?"

" Portia Birsch, my daughter."

He tipped his hat in my direction and continue appraising me while listening and answering in monotone.

It's embarrassing on my part, imagine all the gossiping members of the congregation felt the heat of his desire emitting from his eyes, and my over mannerly correct mother not saying any words, or just one word to curb the man's unholy stares.

Without blinking, he offered us a ride and without batting an eyelash, mom accepts. My mom, accepts oh so coyly! Like a teenager in heat!

My mom! So decently in swiping the dirt of our family underneath the rugs, not airing her dirty linen for the neighborhood to see, now, solicitously salivating for a morsel of attention from this unscrupulous man. I inwardly shakes my head. Not a good sign oh Father in Heaven!

The gleaming car stopped and I eagerly opening my side, when mom held my hand. I looked downward and stop what I'm doing, obediently sensing what's going to unfolds.

The chauffeur opens my mother's door, while the dominating man opening my side of door, I refused to look at him for the second time because at the first staring showdown with his foreboding eyes I saw a glimpse of hell.

I stays at my mother's side while they still exchanging pleasantries. Out of nowhere Mia came, lithely walking towards us with a seductive smile that make mother tense.

" Brenda, why don't you invite this fine man inside the villa, as you always instructed Portia, with her legion of admirers."

Mom stood still for a second before a subtle eye glare at Mia's direction. I refrain from chuckling knowing I'll get a murdering mom at my neck after this fiasco.

" Nice meeting you sir," mom politely and abruptly ends the random conversation.

" Aldrich Renoir, a pleasure for me, until next time." Eyeing me nonstop.

When the car rolls out, I breath luxuriously and the gripping feeling I carried loosen immediately. My mother eyed me, cataloguing my reaction, noting the colors of my paled face and the erratic beating of my heart. Storing, sorting, all of these as a reservoir for impending calamity.

My hidden carefree days was somewhat numbered, everytime I saw his overbearing self, he's like a walking calendar, my dammed alarm clock, that always give me a rude awakening about my value in his standard.

He's the countdown to my damnation and I need to play my card so well, or I'll be doomed. He doesn't veiled his intention, never put any filter or rose colored glasses in front of us, even with anyone, he simply doesn't care, he served it so straightforward that it gives me chills down to my soul.

Now I'm unraveling after his tactics, his moves, he's so dammed poker faced about it. Every encounter is a chance for me to mapped little by little the ways of his devious mind.

And he's here again, confidently lounging in one of mom's prized chintz chair, where even a speck of dust will earned a gruesome stare from her.

Without directly looking at him, I can feel his vindictive stare.

I descend the simple staircase of our villa.

Mom's face light up, approving my modest and up to date ensemble, with a little rise of her well shaped left eyebrow, a signal for me to behave, and to zip my mouth.

" I'm glad you grace me with your youthful charm Portia." An engrossed expression never left his face with an underlying vindictiveness.

I just tilt my head a little to the left to welcome his presence.

" You're so pensive today, must be the weather-"

Am I Mia's daughter or what? That hang sentence again, goading my patience to wear and probably going thinner, but the sudden quirked of my mom's right eyebrow prompt me to reply oh so courteously!

" I'm good SIR, never been better."

I directed my not so innocent glance with mom,

" I need to go, my ballet class will start soon, it's just across the street, mom, can I excused myself?"

The smile, how I hate his smile! So foxy, so sly!

Did he think he won this round, summoning me in my father's house like a pauper. I'll get even. I saw how conflicted my mother at that moment. One thing she can't forego is for her hard earned money to be wasted, and ditching a ballet lesson is a great no no in her vocabulary.

" I'm sorry Sir Renoir, you came in unfortunate time."

I simply half closed my eyes when I heard her heartfelt sorry. Savoring my small win, it's hard to come by, might as well enjoy and basking in this bit of glory.

I half turned my face towards her direction and saw how coquettishly she dabs the corner of her lips with her ever handy flowery laced hankie.

For Pete's sake! Please delivered me from this cloying situation.

With a little wave of her hankie, I alighted with great alacricity. I directly look at Sir Renoir's eyes, not missing his condescending stance.

" Thank you SIR Renoir, for gracing our humble abode. Im so thankful for your benevolent time, I hope it doesn't hinder your other endeavors. " I poetically stated. Dammed that snide smile always directing at me.

" Youth has its own merits and demirits, I believe you chose the right one, my Ever dearest Portia."

He sarcastically replied getting even with my rhetoric.

" Of course SIR Renoir I am my mother's daughter after all. " I smiled frostily gracefully peck at my mother's left cheek to signal my departure.

" Let me walk you out Sir Renoir, to finalize our meeting this day."

That had me stiffen my already stiff posture.

Mom really had a way to convey her message loud and clear without begging nor shouting at me. I salute her, so dearly. One day I'll have her mantra and the eye of my own hurricane.Head high, I continued going out, while they both observed my disposition within that split second I dawdle in the threshold.

" You're so fucking whore Brenda!"

" Hush, tone down that voice. Even if I don't tell you directly, I know you already grasp my plan."

" And you're fucking nonchalant about it?"

" I deserve being a madam of the house, a born lady. This villa is a great testament that I was raised, bred, and educated to belong in the upper echelon."

Mia's eyes become wide as saucer, and her mouth hang loosely for a while.

" That's rich! Are you sure you're still sane? You'll gonna eat your young so you can have this grand opportunity? Did it ever crossed your mind the impact on Portia? You're so low! The lowest among the lowest." Mia almost catch her breath, she got the horror of a lifetime.

" You're just her godmother, I'm her mother."

" Exactly! You're whoring yourself, and pimping your daughter, my goddaughter. Did you listen, really listen just for a minute or two to your inner self. The answer is, No. You turned deaf with your ambition. You're a lot poorer than the scavengers!" A great anguish crept at Mia's contorted voice, so low it actually held a funeral.

Brenda just eyed her companion with detached demeanor.

" Drink your tea, I brewed it stiffly."

" The hell with your stiff tea! Right now I strongly like to make your whole body to stiffen forever, so you can't go through with this diabolical plan, and mind you, I hate tea! It's strong black coffee with lots of sugar for me."

While making her coffee and tasting it without actually savoring the afternoon siesta drinks that they always partake within the enclosure of the balcony under the lush yellow bell shrubbery, that framed their perfect tableau, as two astounding middle aged women, enjoying a reprise to a middle class neighborhood. The place where they grew, become woman, and secretly drift to become a fallen women in society's view.

" You're hell bent in doing this right? Why don't you take coffee for a while, just this once, Brenda. Without cream, without sugar, maybe caffeine gives you awakening and palpitation, that what you're planning is thoroughly against the scriptures in the Bible, that your always cramming at everyone's throat."

" I raised her for this purpose." Brenda stated with a clipped tone.

" Much as I thought and observed." Mia said drily,

" You groomed her to be your greatest pawn, because you don't have a great body, or a face that can launch a thousand ships. Between the two of us and all the boarders of this villa, we surpass you from that category, but-, " she cut abruptly her talk for the incoming cough, thick, abrasive, and painful. Instead of sipping her stimulating coffee to relive the effect of cough in her vocals, she light a cigarette, did a quick drag, she blows it sideways, " you're strategy and wit astounds me to a greater length ever since we're children."

" And you're meddling always grates in my nerves."

Mia chuckled drily, " it's you're conscience surfacing not your nerves, Brenda. It's the reason why I'm here, you're conscience is so nil since you we're born."

" Conscience is good, if I can achieve what I'm supposed to achieve."

" All those rosaries, attending mass, reading of Bible passages is just a facade? So you can imbibe to that great society you want to be a part of? It's not for salvation? Not also for Portia's spiritual guidance?"

" It's not a facade Mia, it's my devotion, my atonement, and I believe in God. Why do you think my plan lead me straight to my ambition?"

" Really, Brenda? You're fine one to talk, you already have a reason to your devious plan. You state it as a divine prophecy, why don't you open a cult religion, it suits you."