"Oh my God," she screeched and gave me a bear hug. For someone like her, that was quite surprising. I thought she'd be a snub.
I looked to Derek for help. Asking with my eyes what he was getting me into. I've had enough drama in my life and this would just add to the huge pile. Honestly, I wasn't looking forward to it.
She released me and looked at my face, using her palm to raise my chin, "What's your name, sweetie?"
Do I say my real name? My real name always brought me bad luck. My eyes shifted to Derek, quietly seeking for his help. "Elena," I finally said.
"Oh dear. That's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl," she praised and I smiled weirdly.
"I guess you could say that, Mrs...?"
"Miles. Mrs. Miles," she sat.
My eyes were round. What? Miles? Wasn't that the principal's surname? Victoria, calm down. Must be another family.
"Mrs. Miles. I'm glad to have finally met you. Derek has told me a lot about you," I said.
"Did he?" she frowned at him. "I hope they were good things."
Derek laughed, "Mummmm?"
She stood and we did same, "Well, I have to go now." She looked at me and asked, "How about dinner tonight?"
I glanced at Derek and he was still. "Yes. Sure. Wonderful," I rambled and she laughed.
"You must be shy. I like how you look at him though," she commended. "Derek, bring her to the mansion at seven then."
"No!" Derek said hurriedly and then smiled. "How about you come over to our house? You've never been to my house."
She seemed to think about it while I mouthed to Derek 'What are you doing?'
"Okay then. See you at eight," she replied, walking towards the door while dragging Derek along.
I sighed heavily and sat down. I looked at Mrs. Miles hold Derek's cheeks and looked at him with so much affection. My mom hardly did that to me. The tears soaked my neck already and I hurriedly wiped them off as I saw Derek coming into the shop.
"What happened to you?" he rushed to my side in a flash.
"A drop of ice cream entered my eyes," I lied.
He gave me a look and burst out laughing, "That would be the strangest lie I've ever heard."
I smiled, "What just happened?"
He stood and sat at the other side of the booth, "Well, you're my wife now."
"Isn't that crazy? I have a lot going on in my life already and you're adding to the list. Why would you lie to her?"
He rubbed his neck, "She's always seen me as a failure. Didn't want to disappoint her again."
I shook my head, "Lying about a wife is something big. It won't be easy to get away from. She'll find out sooner or later and she won't just see you as a disappointment then. She'll see you as a liar and won't trust you anymore."
He looked at his shoes, sober. "I know. But what do I do now?"
I looked him in the eye, "It's simple. Tell her the truth."
"No no. I can't do that. Not now."
I stood and hung my handbag, "I can't be a part of this."
He knelt in front of me, "Please. I beg of you. Just do this for me. Please, help me. I know I'm doing it the wrong way but I can't do it alone. Please."
I felt for him. I remembered all he's done for me and how I couldn't find a way to repay him. And he was my friend. Friends help each other. But this was wrong. So wrong.
"Okay. But just for tonight," I consented and he jumped to his feet, embracing me.
"Thank you so much," I felt his smile.
I instantly became shy and disentangled from him. "Uh... I... Uh... I have a dinner to prepare for."
"That's true. We have to go," he said going over to his help, Linda.
"We?" I asked. "Where are we going?"
He returned to me and laced our fingers, "Our home."
∆∆∆∆∆∆
Derek's house was a bungalow that sat in the middle of a fenced compound. A car was in the driveway.
"I didn't know you had a car," I noted.
"It's just one of those things people don't know about me," he brushed it off and pulled me into his house.
Three bedrooms, a sitting room, a kitchen, a dining and two bathrooms. I dropped my bag on a sofa in the sitting room and followed him to the kitchen. He handed me an apron and wore one himself.
"So, what are we making?" I asked him.
He blushed, "I can't cook."
"Oh." I checked the cupboards and found spaghetti. "I guess we'll be making spaghetti then."
"What do I help with?"
Soon, we were cutting, slicing, shredding and cooking. The food was ready and I set the table. Derek made punch. While I was giving some finishing touches, the doorbell dinged.
"I'll get it," Derek shouted from somewhere in the house and I had the door open.
"Your house is cute. Small but cute," I heard her voice ring.
"Hello to you too, Mum," I heard Derek reply.
"Where's our wife?" I heard her voice draw closer and she was at the doorway in no time. "Elena."
"Mrs. Miles," she embraced me.
"Just call me Mum," she chided me and gasped at the sight of our little feast. "You made all these for me?"
"Yes. And your wife made them for you," Derek said.
She laughed and I smiled. I don't know why my stomach felt wheezy when they referred to me as his wife.
"Let's eat," I told them and they sat. I served them and served myself too.
The clinging of cutleries and plates filled the room.
"So," Mrs. Miles sipped her drink. "Who are your parents?"
I looked at Derek and he nodded at me. "They're dead," I blurted out.
Derek's eyes shot open, "Yes. They died when she was young."
"Awwwwn. I'm sorry about that," she sympathized.
"It's in the past now. I'm over it," I brushed it off.
"That's good. I know you're glad to have met Derek," she said.
"Yes. He's been of great help," I said.
"Do you have siblings?" she asked.
"No," I said.
She was about to fire another question when the doorbell dinged.
"Oh. That must be your brother," Mrs. Miles said and Derek looked shocked.
He didn't move to answer the door, so I did. I opened the door to find Walter Miles frowning.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.