Chapter 6

“Ess! Esme! That is your mother,” Kaja yelled. “It kills you to see her like that? Just, just think how much it kills her to not see you. You’re her only child.”

“But…” Esme whined.

“Ess, think. Please, just think how you’re going to feel when she does go,” Kaja pleaded. “Ess, you don’t have a whole lot of time left. You don’t have a whole lot of time left to tell her how much you love her, what a wonderful mother she is. What precious memories you have of her during your childhood.”

“I, I hate you, hear me?” Esme sobbed as she got to her feet. “I absolutely hate you.”

“Yeah? Well, boo hoo,” Kaja snapped as Esme marched to the door of their suite.

“Bitch,” Esme whispered, slamming the door of the suite.

“Right back at you!” Kaja whispered.

“Bitch,” Esme whispered a few hours later as she slid under the covers.

“Right back at you,” Kaja said, pulling Esme in for a long embrace.

“Oh God, Kaja!” Esme suddenly sobbed out, fiercely clutching onto Kaja.

“I know, baby, I know,” Kaja said, letting her wife sob it all out.

The month of August continued to wend its way to September. Abigail did return to her classes with a renewed resolve. Seeing the care the nurses provided for Miss Marta, seeing the dedication the women and one man had, Abigail knew without a doubt she wanted to be a nurse.

Despite Marta’s orders, both Kaja and Esme did not return to Holmes & Chandler’s campus. Both took the on-line classes instead.

September first, Esme was cradling her mother’s feather-light body as Marta whimpered and sobbed in agony. Suddenly, Marta found an inner strength and gripped Esme’s hand. Then the whimpering and sobbing ceased.

Esme let out a heartbroken keening wail of absolute agony as she held her mother’s lifeless body. Kaja came rushing into the room, took one look at mother and daughter and let out her own wail of loss.

The funeral was sparsely attended. Marta had many acquaintances but no friends. Her business holdings were numerous and the heads of those enterprises did put in a token appearance but none of these men and women could say that they even knew who Marta was.

Aloyse put on a good façade of grieving widower, receiving handshakes and murmured words with a stoic face. Esme also received handshakes and murmured words as she sobbed. A few looked at the sobbing Kaja and Abigail with curiosity, but none were truly curious enough to inquire their roles in the matter.

On the sixth of September, a beaming Aloyse and a smiling Lucia sat on one side of the conference table just off the office of Thomas C. Fletcher, third or fourth cousin to Marta. A still grieving Esme and Kaja sat on the other side of the table, murmuring to one another. With a clearing of his throat, Thomas began a very dry reading of Marta’s will.

The minor trivialities were dispensed of first; Marta had been very generous with several charities. She had also been quite generous with their faithful servants. Lucia was puzzled when her name was not mentioned and looked at Aloyse for assurance. With a smug expression, he gently patted her hand.

Aloyse clutched at his chest, sure he was having a heart attack when Thomas read that Aloyse had been referred to Cornelius Brantley, the District Attorney for Fletcher County and to the office of the Attorney General of the state of Maine for several years of embezzlement. Thomas regarded the buffoon for a long moment, wondering if he should summon help.

“I, I’m her husband,” Aloyse finally spluttered.

“No. If you remember, after the birth of Esme Anne Neige, you demanded a paternity test,” Thomas stated, flipping a three ring binder open, then rifling through to a page.

Kaja looked at her wife, a little curiosity in her blue eyes. Surely, the blonde haired, blue eyed woman had to have realized; two brown haired, brown eyed parents would not have a blonde haired, blue eyed child.

“And upon learning that one Klaus Rudolph Mercce, former employee of King Hills Country Club was the actual father of the infant child…” Thomas continued.

“What?” Esme asked again.

“…you demanded an immediate divorce from Marta Anne Neige nee Fletcher,” Thomas continued reading from the file.

“But I, I didn’t file; there was no decree of divorce,” Aloyse declared.

Thomas flipped to the back flap of the binder and retrieved two thick envelopes. He casually flipped both envelopes to rest in front of Aloyse. Aloyse looked at the envelopes then at the attorney.

“The one to the left is the petition for the dissolution of the marriage, signed, dated and notarized. Please read the signatures on the bottom of each page,” Thomas said coolly. “The other envelope is the actual decree of divorce; you should have received your copy on April ninth…”

“On my birthday?” Esme asked, still reeling from all the information she was receiving.

“Yes, actually, it was on your first birthday,” Thomas smiled sadly. “I was at your birthday party; you were so beautiful in your little pink party dress. Your mother; such a silly woman sometimes, had a little tiara on your head…”

“I, oh my God, I still have that tiara,” Esme said, fresh tears coming to her eyes.

“I didn’t sign this,” Aloyse declared, seeing his signature on the petition.

“Aloyse, I was there. My sec… Sorry, my Administrative Assistant stood right there and witnessed and notarized your signature,” Thomas said.

“You, I, oh! Oh I remember now; you and Marta said it was insurance forms,” Aloyse thundered.

“Aloyse, it very clearly says at the very top of the first page that it is a petition for the dissolution…” Thomas stated. “Jesus, man, you can read, can’t you? I mean, you certainly managed to read the accounts you absconded with.”

“I, what about me?” Lucia finally interrupted the bickering of the two men.

“So, if he’s not my father, then where is this Klaus guy?” Esme asked.

“I am sorry,” Thomas said to Esme. “Klaus died; a drowning accident in the King Hill Country Club swimming pool about sixteen, seventeen years ago.”

“And the punches just keep coming,” Esme muttered to Kaja.

“But wait! There’s more,” Thomas said drily to Esme.

Esme was baffled when she learned that she was the sole heir to her mother’s estate, minus the pittances Marta had given to their servants and to her favorite charities. Kaja knew, to the servants and to the charities, those millions of dollars were no pittance. But when compared to the billions of dollars each of the numerous Fletcher businesses and properties generated, those millions were just a drop in the bucket.

“So… That, that’s why, all these years,” Esme said, another realization dawning on her. “I, I never was good enough.”

“That’s right, you little bitch,” Aloyse hissed, twenty one years of hatred bubbling up and spilling out.

“Aloyse!” Lucia said, shocked at her lover’s outburst. “That, she, she is your daughter.”

“The fuck she is,” Aloyse snarled.

“Ah yes, thank you for coming,” Thomas said as two Maine State policemen entered the conference room.

“Aloyse Neige? Please stand, place your hands behind your back,” one man intoned while the other stood at the ready.

“You, I will sue you,” Aloyse screamed.

Kaja was not sure if Aloyse meant he would sue Thomas or Esme. Nor did she think it mattered. Lucia sat, unsure of what to do. The door closed behind the loudly protesting man that had been her employer and lover for the past twelve years. Finally she looked at Esme.

“I, I was your cook,” Lucia reminded Esme. “For twelve years, I was your cook.”

“And you were very well compensated for your services,” Esme said tersely. “We will consider the matter of your disloyalty to my mother a closed topic. Therefore, should anyone call me, I will give you a good reference.”

Woodenly, Lucia grabbed her purse and left the room. Thomas and Kaja watched the Latina woman’s exit while Esme continued to read the paperwork in front of her.

Thomas turned to Esme and smiled, saying, “I was not sure if you had the fortitude to assume the mantle of control of your mother’s estate. But, I see you are well prepared to step into her shoes.”

Miserable, bloated, chronically constipated and constantly whining, Esme entered the month of December with a sour attitude. The five new servants stayed well out of Esme’s path as the heavily pregnant woman stormed around the mansion.

“Hey, bitch; you ain’t the only pregnant woman around here,” Kaja snapped after Esme screamed at Raoul, causing the effeminate chef to flee the room, sobbing in despair.

“And?” Esme screamed.

A slap caused Esme to stop and stare at Kaja. Kaja then hugged Esme as well as their pregnant bellies would allow her to hug Esme.

“Do you see me running around screaming at everyone?” Kaja asked.

“Shit, I don’t see you running at all,” Esme giggled.

“No kidding! I feel lucky if I can even waddle ten feet without having to pee,” Kaja giggled, kissing Esme. “But Ess, come on. I’m cranky too but I don’t take it out on everyone.”

“You should try it,” Esme encouraged. “Does wonders for my mood.”

Then she slapped Kaja across the face. Kaja stared at Esme in shock.

“Tag. You’re it,” Esme giggled and moved to waddle away.

“Tag. YOU’RE it,” Kaja yelled, giving Esme’s buttocks a resounding whack.

“What’s with Raoul? He’s quitting again,” Abigail said, coming into the sitting room. “That’s what? The third time this week?”

“The ghost of Christmas Bitch strikes again,” Kaja said, hiding behind the couch as Esme attempted to corner her.

“Oh. Okay. Let me see if Gregory can talk him down from the ledge,” Abigail said, turning and leaving the sitting room. “You two have a doctor’s appointment at three thirty; don’t you think you should get dressed for that?”

“Oh God,” Kaja said, remembering their doctor’s appointment. “Come on, Ess; time out.”

In their bedroom, Esme waited until Kaja was bent over, trying to grab a pair of fur-lined boots from their closet. She delivered a loud ‘whack’ to Kaja’s wide buttocks that nearly toppled Kaja over.

“Tag. You’re it,” Esme crowed.

“I will kill you,” Kaja promised even as she giggled.

Through Dr. Martin’s assistance, Esme hired two experienced Ob/Gyn nurses. She offered to pay Abigail the same wages for her service but Abigail just frowned at her.

“Ess, really? I’m living in a mansion, driving a brand new car, my tuition is fully paid up,” Abigail said as she drove from the doctor’s office to Fletcher Mansion. “You offering to pay me? Makes me less of a friend and more of a servant.”

“Well, it’s just that, I mean…” Esme tried to defend, but Kaja put a hand on Esme’s hand.

“She’s right, Ess,” Kaja said. “I mean, even if we were still in the cracker box? Your friendship is more than any money could buy.”

“Even if you are a stark raving bitch,” Abigail agreed.

“Hey, you try carrying what? Fifty pounds of baby and water weight and…” Esme barked.

“I am. Believe me, I am,” Kaja pointed out.

“Yeah, and Kaja’s almost nice to be around,” Abigail teased.

“What? What’s with this ‘Almost’ stuff, huh?” Kaja yelled.

“Uh? That gas at the breakfast table?” Abigail said.

“God, yes! That was truly toxic,” Esme agreed.

“Oh! Newhart’s!” Esme suddenly demanded, pointing to the sign ahead.

“Ess! What did Dr. Martin tell us? Sodium is a killer,” Kaja said.

“God, come on! One, one isn’t going kill me,” Esme whined.

She screamed in outrage when Abigail kept driving past the restaurant. Kaja slapped her hand over Esme’s mouth and Esme bit down on Kaja’s fingers.

“Ow! Damn!” Kaja complained.

Home again, still quite sullen, Esme locked herself in her office. After a moment to get herself somewhat comfortable, she when over end of the month budgets for the various enterprises she now owned. She used these numbers to figure the quarterly projections and used those figures to come up with year to date tallies.

“Yes Esme?” Thomas Fletcher answered his most demanding client’s call.

Esme ordered a forensic audit of two of the larger industries; no matter how she tried, she could not reconcile the year’s projected earnings with last year’s figures. She had her own accounting firm but wanted an outside agency to handle this matter.

“I mean, if Dunn, Reed and Cohen are involved…” Esme said.

“Agreed,” Thomas said, smirking.

He had a decades’ long feud with Michael Cohen. Nothing would give him greater pleasure than exposing the little girlfriend stealing weasel to be guilty of aiding in any fraud, embezzlement or any other nefarious undertaking.

“Yeah, Marcie, bet you wished you’d gone to Homecoming with me now, huh?” Thomas asked, remembering the cute, chubby little red head from so many years ago.

At the dinner table, the three ate in comfortable silence. As Janelle cleared the plates away, Esme looked at Kaja. Sensing her eyes, Kaja looked over, questioning look on her face.

“Hey, next spring break? Uh, try to not get us knocked up, huh?” Esme demanded.

“Ess. Esme Anne Neige, you really think? You really think I said, ‘hey, here’s a great idea! Let me get myself bloated, fat, and miserable?'” Kaja shrilled.