28 Water & Oil Pt. 2

Everyone looked at Priscilla while she pointed at the beer cooler behind the bar.

"Hey, rich lady. Give me a Corona," Priscilla demanded with a glee.

Amaan handed her a bottle of chilled beer and asked, "Isn't it a little early for a beer? We were going to have breakfast anyway."

Priscilla touched the glass bottle to her lips and emptied the half of it in one go. When she separated herself from her beverage, she exclaimed, "Well, I need something to wake me up, right? Corona always does that job for me."

I let go of Mad and asked her, "What are you doing here Priscilla? was this a plan of yours too? To crash our meeting while we're away from you?"

Her cheerful demeanor vanished, and she looked at me with those foxy piercing eyes she possessed. I retracted to a safe distance where her bottle throws won't hit me.

"Don't get worked up this early in the morning, Chink. I'm not here for a meet and greet. I was here for business. And since I knew you'd be in this town, I thought of paying you a visit. Besides, this guy sitting next to me was a big name in Velocity Cars, which I have been a very good customer of. If you think you're special and I paid YOU people a visit, you're gravely mistaken."

Priscilla continued to drink her beer while everybody in the room continued to look at her.

"W-Well, people, the breakfast will be ready soon. Why don't we sit at the proper table," Amaan broke the silence, and everybody was plenty thankful for that.

Everyone stood up and started walking, while Mad held on to me tightly like she was never going to let me go again. It felt good when the pillar of my household showed cracks of care directed at me. It felt good to be in her attention again. In that moment, I had preferred a bedroom above the breakfast. Nevertheless, the short walk from the bar to the breakfast table filled me with joy and bloom.

The table in the middle was made of fancy wood with beautiful engravings all over it. Some of them felt like scratches, but the rim was exceptionally artistic. There were exactly five chairs surrounding the round table, which made it a little awkward for Mad. One way or another, she would be sitting with her ex. And I was not ready to entertain that thought. The chairs were placed in such a pattern that anyone sitting in a particular chair could see two people in front of him/her without turning or

moving.

Lucky for us, Priscilla was the one looking at us, whereas Brad sat next to me and Amaan took the seat next to Mad. I had thought Amaan would sit next to me, but I brushed off that thought for my

own sake.

there were bigger things on the line here, I reminded myself.

The table was filled with bread, scrambled eggs, biryani and juice. Everybody started filling their plates, whereas Mad was looking down at her legs. I poured her some juice and scrambled eggs, then pushed a fork into her hands. She looked at me with no power in her body, but I couldn't help her due to Priscilla's lunatic tendencies.

And I was proven right when she asked Amaan where the bacon was.

Amaan set her cutlery down and explained why bacon will never be present in a Muslim's house.

I was equally terrified and surprised at Priscilla's lack of social awareness. For somebody whose job description required to travel the world, her social IQ was definitely low.

"So, Kiyomi, and Professor, what are we all doing here?" Brad threw the question on the table.

"Well, you see- "Amaan started to explain, but I signaled her to be quiet. I wanted to explain out reasoning for her summon.

"Mr. Brad, we're here for forgiveness. I know the past has been hard on you. But the same pain has been incurred by my wife, Madonna. And I can assure you that the changes in her attitude and perspective have been for the better."

"Cut the shit. I am not here for an interview. So, you can pocket your spiritual liberation bullshit in your back pocket and get out of my face. What I want is very easy. And if you can do that, I will be able to bear your fractured morality for a limited extent. Maybe."

"Well, that makes it easy for us too. Please tell me what you desire, and we will take one heartfelt forgiveness from you."

Brad started to chuckle. So did Amaan. They started laughing hysterically, while Mad reached out for my hand and clenched on to it. I was confused. The laughter continued for a long time before Priscilla smashed her hand on to the table floor. Everyone's focus was onto her once more.

"Listen to me, you Kylo Ren knock-off. If you want that beautiful set of teeth stay inside your mouth, I want you to start naming your price. I'll help you pay it all. But this laughing crap won't sit well with me."

Her statement about helping us made me think if she still harbored feelings for Mad. My question got answered when Brad asked her the same question.

Her nonchalant reply was," Eh. Look at it this way. You tell your share of story makes the Joan of Arc more miserable. Not even accounting the sorrow smile her wifey gives out. I cant wait for that reaction, and you better start blabbering."

"Allright. I want $250,000 and I never want to see this tramp's face again."

"Done deal," Priscilla had made a deal with Brad without my consent, which adding, "Only if you promise to meet her once more. Just once."

Priscilla and Brad shook their hands. While they shared smiles amongst them, Madonna was starting to break down. I tried to console her but she up and left the table, leaving us four sitting around. I knew her appetite was gone. Mine was too. But I knew I had to take in so much more tonight.

Brad's story coupled with Amaan's was going to be a bumpy ride. And addition of Priscilla was an unpleasant surprise on its own.

I realized that we had to start from somewhere, so I thought of taking the first step.

I turned to Brad and said, "So, Mr. Brad, unfortunately I am the only one on this table who doesn't know about you. Would you tell me a little about yourself?

Brad said he'd happily oblige if I passed him the biryani, and so I did. Once he was done serving himself, he spoke, "I was the CEO and the branch manager of Velocity Cars in Nepal. Our plan was to introduce higher end vehicles to people who can't generally afford them. Needless to say, our company made a good turnover by kickstarting our business in smaller countries. It was good for national economy, and we made good relations with the native government."

To be honest, I was not listening to her all the way. But the pretext was required for my following question.

"It seems like you and Priscilla are already acquainted. How did that happen?"

"Velocity cars has a sub-division, Velocity Red. It's main focus is on high end cars with big price tags. Luxury vehicles, race cars and novelty cars. I bring this up because Priscilla is one of the financial supporters of the division. She is also the official spokesperson for that part of the company."

Priscilla raised her hand with spoon in her fingers up in the air and said, "Financial security. Out there, there is a rich kid with a silver spoon ready to swipe his father's credit card for one of our cars. And I, who owns 20% of the Velocity Red will have royalties coming into my account for the rest of my life."

Priscilla gloated her wisdom with a bright smile, which she completely overturned into a growl.

Between her gritting teeth, she said, "I hate to admit, but that woman of yours lodged that idea into my head. She was always too careful with the money, and never let me buy any bling. In stead. I own three restaurants in Miami and my own clothing line."

Priscilla stood up from the chair and slammed her spoon on the table. She screamed GODDAMNIT before storming off.

I was confused, but Amaan was smiling and Brad was calm as a cucumber.

"Wh-why was she like this?" I posed the question for the ladies sitting around.

"She hates to admit, but Madonna helped her career in more than one way. She was always particular with details. The one who angrily left the room is a live example. She knows she owes a lot of things to a lot of people, but she tries to balance out Madonna's betrayal by claiming all her success as hers. Which isn't entirely wrong, but its not true either."

I continued to look at Amaan, who was explaining P.A.'s mentality to me. I swung my head and looked at Brad, who was grudgingly agreeing to Amaan's claims.

What I witnessed was one person's impact and the power of their presence on another individual's past.

"Madonna's absence helped Priscilla because she met new people and had different experiences. It was almost the same for me," Brad gave me a peek into his life. "It was tough, seeing Madonna exit the front door, never to return. But in her absence, I found a new friend, Professor Amaan. She really helped me out after the operation."

"Operation? You had some major illness, Brad?"

Brad looked at my face with surprise and disgust in his eyes. He posed me a question: "Tell me, Mrs. Kiyomi House, what do you know about Blessing Witman?"

"Uh… she is one of the people we were supposed to meet. Instead, Amaan asked Madonna to fetch you. Since you both shared the same last name, I thought you'd be siblings or a couple. Was I wrong?" I was swinging my head from side to side to get a single reaction out of them. I was confused and afraid of what was about to come.

And suddenly, realized what was going on. And it filled me with horror.

Please god, don't let Madonna be a reason for this!

Brad let go of his spoon and pointed his finger at his chest and exclaimed, "Mrs. Kiyomi, I am Blessing Witman."