(Author’s POV)
"Feeling better now?" William inquired as he knelt in front of her to check her complexion.
"Ummhmm~ much better," Sandra answered as an involuntary sigh ca out of her mouth.
"Now tell what’s been on your mind since earlier? You have been keenly looking at Mrs. Garcia," William had already sensed Sandra’s reluctance and change in her behaviour. After all, they were husband and wife and had spent more than half of their lives together. He knew the swings in her mood like the back of his hand.
Sandra remained silent for a brief mont, then asked with a bit of hesitation, "Di~ ..... Didn’t you find Mrs. Garcia’s behaviour a little odd?"
"Odd ... huhh~? Why do you say that? Did she do sothing that displeased you in any way?" William asked with a curious look.
"I won’t be saying it was offensive or anything like that, but her words ’steal your daughters away’. They are just .... stuck in my head. Plus~ ...... why~ ... why would soone of her status and social standing look for our daughter for a simple shopping trip? I know she needs help picking gifts, but still, sothing doesn’t feel right to . They t yesterday for the first ti," Sandra laid out her concerns honestly.
William stayed silent for a while, contemplating sothing in his mind. But Sandra took his silence as a sign that he disagreed with her point of view. She then added, mumbling under her breath, "Maybe I am just a worrywart."
"Noo ...... no. Your concerns are absolutely genuine. Now that you have ntioned it, I find it a little strange as well ...." William replied, thinking hard. Then he suggested, "Don’t worry, I will talk to Myra as well as Wendy when they return. It will help in clearing the situation better, umm." He assured Sandra as he held her shoulders firmly and kissed her forehead, giving her a gentle and comforting peck.
’I just hope it is all just a misunderstanding on my part,’ Sandra thought this, but the nagging feeling, her instinct, was telling her otherwise.
_____________________
In the shopping district, Wendy was in her usual chatterbox mode, chatting happily with Amy as the three of them strolled through the market. Their conversation flowed as smoothly as river water as their interest aligned.
Myra took part only when she was asked a question. She was still in her post hangover phase, and the forty five minute car ride evoked it, making it worse. She was feeling queasy and carsick at this point. But she didn’t want to trouble Amy, so she thought better of enduring it and keeping quiet.
Amy noticed Myra’s lack of interest as she was walking very slowly and behind her and Wendy. Amy shifted her attention to Myra and saw that her face was a little off colour. With a worriso tone, she couldn’t help but ask, "Myra, dear. You don’t look well. Are you feeling uncomfortable sowhere?"
Wendy, who was in her high, excited zone, snapped out of it and looked at her sister, her face etched with raw concern, "Sis, what happened?"
Myra rubbed her nose in embarrassnt and said, "Nothing much. Just a bit carsick. It will go away in a while." She assured them.
Amy suggested, "Let’s take a short break."
"No, no. I am good. We should probably head to the store to buy the things we are here for," Myra declined. She wanted to help Amy pick out the clothing for her children and be done with it.
But Amy was adamant, "Don’t say that. I would feel bad if sothing were to happen to you. And~ ... it is already ti for lunch. We can pick out the gifts after having a al, umm? By then, your car sickness will subside as well."
She didn’t give Myra any chance, held her wrist and started marching towards a fancy, fine dining restaurant. Wendy followed them.
As they were about to enter the place, Amy’s phone started ringing. She glanced at the screen and went a little stiff. But it was for a brief second that neither Myra nor Wendy noticed it. She then shifted her gaze at them and said, "My daughter is calling. I will just pick up the call and be right back. You both go ahead."
Saying this, she went to the corner to attend the call.
Myra wanted to wait for Amy to finish her call, but Wendy said, "Let’s go, sis."
As they stepped onto the staircase, they were stopped by the guards on duty. They gave the two a once over from top to bottom. In a gravelly, rough and stoic voice, one of the two said, "You cannot enter the place."
"Why? Why can’t we go in?" Wendy questioned, her brows knitted together in puzzlent.
The other one gave a very ugly scoff while the forr one replied, "Your attire. They don’t match the restaurant’s dress code. So, I would suggest that you should leave."
"What’s wrong with our clothes, huhh?" Wendy, the outspoken one out of the two, said, her voice held a sharp edge.
She was wearing a mint colored sundress and off white strappy sandals, with a ponytail. While Myra was in a simple black printed tee and baggy khaki pants, her hair loose, and the thick fras blocking most of her face.
The second one spoke, his voice was filled with rudeness and discourtesy, "Do we even need to ntion it? Don’t you get the hint?" He then turned to his guard mate and said, "Steve, why are you not being straightforward with them? See, little girl .... this is a five star, posh restaurant. Only elite and influential people, who hold the mbership card, can go inside. I don’t think~ ...... you possess the required item. So, you should stop wasting our ti and just leave."
"You just~ ... how rude~" Wendy was about to unleash her verbal attack, but Myra stopped her in ti. "Wends, calm down for a second."
"But sis, he is the one being impolite towards her," Wendy was irritated as she protested.
The rude guard chuckled and remarked, "Little girl. Listen to your big sister and just leave quietly. Don’t make a fuss and show your poor class. You will only embarrass yourselves."
Myra didn’t want to argue with them as it was distasteful, but his comnt made her snap sothing in her mind as she said, her voice serious and icy cold, "Apologize now."
"What? Why should I apologize, huhh? What for? For speaking the truth? I guess I just hit the bullseye, stating facts, and you just can’t digest it. You are just being delusional," the guard said unceremoniously. His face scrunching, contorting in an ugly frown.
"I said~ ... apologize to my sister, NOW," Myra lost her temper. She was thoroughly pissed by their discriminatory behaviour. "Otherwise~"
"Otherwise~ ... what, huhh? What will you do?" he asked. By this ti, their argunt had caught the passerbys’ attention as they started gathering around to see the drama unfold.
Hearing such a commotion at the entrance, the manager ca rushing out, "What is happening here, huhh?" He asked the security guards.
The first one explained, "These two ladies~ .... they wanted entry inside the restaurant, but neither do they have the mbership card nor are their clothes according to the required dress code."
The manager glanced their way and said, his voice devoid of any emotion, "Ladies, I am afraid, but we can’t attend to you. Our restaurant has rules, and you don’t fit in with that." He didn’t outright condemn them, but his ssage was clear as crystal.
"We will~" Myra said, and a sneer ford on the shady guard’s mouth. He was making a face as if saying, ’See, you are nothing. You dirt poor being. Buzz off.’
But Myra continued, her eyes locked on him, giving him a death stare, "But first~ ... this security guard has to apologize to my sister for his rude and impudent comnts."
"Hey~ you~ ... did I say anything wrong?" The guard’s rude remark was back again.
"STEVE~" The manager glared at him as he ekly and reluctantly backed down. He then turned to Myra and said," Ma’am, please, don’t blow things out of proportion. I cannot ask my staff to apologize for simply stating facts."
Myra was about to say sothing, but before she could, an authoritative and commanding voice ca from behind her, "What facts are you talking about? Do enlighten as well."
The manager looked at the elegant figure approaching the scene. He pursed his lips and said, "Ma’am, please don’t bother with such kind of people." He could tell by Amy’s simple yet luxurious dress and her Chanel limited edition bag that she was a powerful figure. His stance changed completely as he greeted her.
Amy gave him a hard, long stare and asked, her voice held a razor sharp edge, "I said, enlighten . Why is my guest asking your staff for an apology?"
The manager, as well as both the guards, were shell shocked by her words. Their mouth agape.
Amy raised an eyebrow and comnted, "What? Did cat got your tongue now?"
To Be Continued . . . . . . .
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