Missing Piece

I entered into the kitchen and saw Leila with her back turned, busying herself in front of the sink.

"Ms. McCrae... wha-- why is she cleaning?"

"I can't cook shashlik now. That takes time. I'm cooking steak since I already had marinated beef."

"Okay. Concerning Ms. McCrae--"

"I tried to reason with her. And it turned out I don't really have any solid argument as to why she should not do the cleaning except that she shouldn't."

"So you simply let her?" I asked, incredulous.

"I don't see why she is your manager. She's better off being a lawyer or a prosecutor," Leila scoffed.

Okay?

It seems that she had just lost an argument and she's not happy about it.

"Why are you down here already? Your lunch is not cooked yet."

She turned to look at me.

Oh. Beast mode Leila is definitely on.

"I felt bored in the studio," I lied, taking my seat in the kitchen island.

"What happened? How did she do it?" I asked her, feeling a bit amused now.

She let out an annoyed breath and turned back to her work.

"Don't make me start. That girl... I don't know how to put it. She has a way with words that you won't be able to refute without sounding stupid. It's the first time I felt stupid for as long as I can remember. But I got a point. She should not clean because it is not her assigned work. And what would you say? Your manager cleaning the house? I firmly defended that cleaning is not included in her duties."

I stifled my chuckle. This is my first time seeing Leila worked-up.

"And what did she say?" I asked with an amused smile.

She turned around to face me, hands on hips.

"Well! She said everything that concerns you is her work. I asked her how is cleaning about you. She said this is your house and it is her concern to see to it that it is prepared well for your guests tomorrow and that considering the size of this place, Otto and I won't get it all done by tonight. I know that but... I felt stupid saying I know we won't be able to get it done but still, she should not touch even a duster in the house. I was being illogical in a sense yes, but not all things are supposed to be logical. You understand me?"

I nodded at her, doing my best to keep a straight face.

"Now leave me alone. I have a lunch to cook."

She took out a pan and a bottle of cooking oil.

"You told her not to touch anything but she did. Did you show her your angry disappointed face? That used to straighten me up when I was being stubborn."

"No. She offered me a deal. She said to let her clean and she will give me a signed album of Bon Jovi. Can you believe that?? Who can refuse such offer?"

I finally burst out laughing.

Leila can't say no to Bon Jovi.

"Really? How did she know about that?"

"We were happy talking about some things in the garden yesterday. We talked about you then it came to the topic about our own personal favorites. She didn't have any but her mother was as crazy as I am about Jon Bon Jovi. Daphne, her mother, actually liked classical music but she was crazy about Jon and had collected all of his band's albums."

I frowned.

"You're talking about her mother in past tense. So.. she doesn't like him anymore? And you said Ms. McCrae doesn't have a favorite singer. Why would she bring Bon Jovi's album all the way here?"

Leila paused.

"Her mother had gone."

"Gone? You mean dead?"

She just nodded.  Leila doesn't like talking about death.

"Well, I'm happy that I got a signed album but upset about how she used it against me."

I let out a dry chuckle.

So that's why. Her mother is dead so she cannot protect her from her father's lunacy.

"I think you did not exactly lose Leila. Both of you won since you both got what you wanted."

"I guess that's true. But don't you tell her I'm flattered when she gave me her mother's favorite album. I'm supposed to be displeased about how she manipulated with it."

"The two of you are closer than I thought. If her mother cherished it and she brought it with her as a memento, she can't easily give it up to anyone."

"Exactly dear. That's why I'm flattered. And if I got to be honest, I'm rather fond of her."

"I know," I chuckled.

"If my daughter is alive, she would be around her age."

It's the first time Leila volunteered to talk about her daughter.

"Yes. She would be around her age. Ms. McCrae is born in 1998."

"Aizere would be a year younger. She was born in 1999."

I don't know what else to say so I just kept silent. Leila doesn't talk to me about sensitive matters like this in all 20 years we've known each other.

"I'm almost done cooking the steak. You can fetch Dionna now and have your lunch."

"You cook fast," I said and stood up from my seat.

"Steak cooks fast," she retorted.

I smiled. And she's back to her beast mode.

"I'm not complaining because I really am hungry. The smell is mouth-watering."

"Alright. Off you go now. I don't want anyone around me complaining about being hungry."

I laughed at her then went out of the kitchen. I found Ms. McCrae vacuuming in the family room.

"Hey. Leila says lunch is ready," I called out to her from the door.

She looked up to my direction.

"Okay Sir. I'll be right behind you. I'm almost done."

"I'll wait. Leila told me to get you. If I'm back without you, I'll sour her mood further."

"Is she still upset?"

"Livid," I chuckled.

She let out a sigh and went on vacuuming.

"I kept telling her it is fine. This kind of work helps me de-stress"

I walked into the room and sat on one of the arms of the sofa.

"You are stressed about something?" I asked her.

"No Sir. I'm just saying that cleaning is a good thing for me."

"You have a strange way of de- stressing," I said, amused.

"Working with my hands gets my mind off things Sir," she said, now covering the remaining area towards the door.

"Ah."

What things?

She went on with her work and I watched her from a few meters away. Finally, she gathered all the cleaning equipment and placed them in the caddy. Except for the vacuum.

"I'll carry the vacuum," I announced and strode to her side.

"Thank you Sir."

We deposited the equipment in the laundry room at the end of the small hallway. It is in-between the kitchen and the dining room.

"You already know your way around the house," I told Ms. McCrae as we walked back to the kitchen.

"I had been following Leila around Sir," she responded.

My lips turned up into a smirk.

Ah. The troubles Leila had to go through.

We entered into the kitchen and the smell of buttery toasted garlic bread permeated the room.

"Will you be eating on the dining area there or here in the kitchen island?" Leila asked us.

"We can eat in the kitchen island," I answered her.

"Okay. Sit down. I'll be serving your steak and garlic bread in a moment."

We didn't wait long before she served us the food.

"Thank you Leila," Ms. McCrae said to her.

I seconded Ms. McCrae with my own thanks.

"Alright. Eat well," she said and walked off towards the sink.

"Is she still upset?" Ms. McCrae whispered to me.

"No. Not anymore but she is not in a happy mood either," I whispered back.

"Stop whispering and eat your food," Leila interrupted us.

I gave Ms. McCrae a shrug and put a cut of steak in my mouth.

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