The Great News

RAYMOND

Into the house, I stepped with a basket of food. 

How and why did I have to meet my brother at the restaurant today of all days? As I placed the basket on the table of the diner, a sigh ran out of my mouth and I walked to the living room where a seat was taken. 

“Maria!” 

At the top of my voice, I called out to her. 

So far, the woman was the only maid I related more to even though personal issues had not been shared. A part of me just preferred her more than the others and I could not help but call her when I needed a maid's assistance. 

So long she wasn't assisting my wife. 

“Maria—” This time, I called gentler than before. 

A door opened and she stepped out of her room. “Welcome back, Mr. Jefferson. If you called more than once, I'm afraid I didn't hear it—” She walked closer with the usual smile on her countenance and there was me who was nodding, sitting up at the same time so that she could be addressed. 

“Thank you. It's fine,” I started and pointed at the dining. “Over there is a basket of food I got on my way back home. You should serve me a plate of food from there. I'm too tired to do it and would be needing all the help I can get.” My back rested on the couch when I said this, and then I recalled I was married to a woman. 

“Right away.” 

She had turned and was ready to leave when I called her back. “How about my wife? Where is she?” 

“She's in her room with the baby—” I was told while she turned back around and went on with what she was doing. “Do you need me to call her for you, Mr. Jefferson?” She asked from the kitchen, walking out soon enough with a tray and a plate. “I'm sure she's awake and not very busy. Isn't it very fortunate that Michelle isn't the usual baby that disturbs all day? That child eats and sleeps. Then cries whenever it occurs to her that she hasn't.” 

The same thing I thought. 

I rarely heard her cry unless she was very hungry. 

Then, the woman I was married to, on the other hand, did not forget to do a good job on her end. 

Speaking of which, I had a piece of news to break to her. The same thing myself and Matthew discussed the last time we saw. How did I forget this?

Not just Matthew but the rest of the men. 

Until now, I was more than shocked and did not for a moment believe what I was told. 

Not without proof that was also provided. 

Snapping out of my thoughts, I heaved a sigh and met the gaze of Maria who stood in front of me with a tray of food. “Here, sir. Is there a problem?” She dropped it on the table she brought along from a corner of the living room. 

“Would you love to eat at the diner instead?” 

“No, I'm okay here. Thank you.” 

And she served. “Is there a problem, sir?” 

“No, not at all,” I chewed a piece of meat. “Why did you ask? Do I look troubled to you or something?” 

“I can't say, Mr. Jefferson—” she moved farther. 

“You just don't look okay to me. Is there something you would love for me to do for you before I leave you to your meal? I made fresh juice a while ago.” 

I thought about it. 

If there was something important to me, it was relaxing on a bed but how could I do that when the news had not been broken to the woman I am married to? 

“Not at all, Maria,” I let out finally. “Can you let my wife know that I would love to speak with her? Make her understand that I'd be in her room soon enough.” And now, I faced the meal, looking up again. “I'm sure you understand that the basket of food is also for my wife. I just didn't want to stress her so I didn't bother calling on her when I came back. Do let her know.” 

“Yes, sir.”

In the space of my large living room, only I existed. Thoughts. Many of them ran in my head but one thing I wanted to do was eat my food without interruptions. 

After spending some time alone, I was done with my meal. Now my legs got me on my feet and led me to the kitchen where the tray was dropped instead of me calling on the maids. Today happened to be one of the days when I helped them with one or two tasks that could be handled and that was what I had just done. 

In a short while, I was seated on the large bed in the space of my room—thinking about how to break the news to Eleanor who is bound to not believe. Even with the proof I had somewhere on my phone. Speaking of proof, I took the phone out of my pocket, looking for the tool I would use to prove myself right to Eleanor so that she would believe I was not in any way telling her a lie. 

Staring at the piece of proof, I led my way to the bathroom after dumping the phone on the bed. By the time I walked out back, a knock on the door distracted me. 

“Who is there? Come on in and be fast about it. If you're not my wife—” 

The door pushed open. 

It was a maid. 

Not Maria. 

Another one of them who closed the door behind her when she was in the space with me. “Good afternoon, Mr. Raymond. I'm here to let you know that your wife is ready to speak with you. Do I let her come here or let her know that you'd be in her room?” 

“I'd be there in a short while—” I let out. “As you can see, I'm about to take my bath so ask her to give me some time.” I snatched my towel from the wardrobe and led my way to the door of the bathroom once again, leading my way in and doing what I had come to do. 

By the time I was done, I was on my way out of my room. Soon enough, I was standing in front of her room, lifting my hand to knock as I waited for her to let me in. “It's me, Eleanor—” I let out, just in case she didn't know. “I'm here to speak with you. Can I come in?” 

Just about that time, the door opened. “Sorry, I needed to drop the baby off before attending to the door,” with a smile, she said and opened the door wider. “Come on in, Raymond.” Urging, the door opened even wider and I stepped in, inhaling the fragrance of baby powder. 

“I'm sorry if I'm distracting you or something, but I needed to speak with you so I'm here.” I settled on the couch, moping at her. “I need you to understand that Matthew and the rest of the men reached out to me because they had something to say to me about the project at hand.” 

Confusion plastered on her countenance. 

“What are you talking about?” She heaved, looking at the baby who made a sound next to her. 

“What is it about? Is there a problem at all? Did they think I wasn't fit to be in the meeting also?” Adjusting a little, she asked but with a smile on her countenance. Now that the smile faded, she looked worried once more. “What is the matter, Raymond? What do I need to know?” 

I heaved a sigh. 

“We met at a private restaurant two days ago,” I started as I relaxed my back on the couch. “There's nothing much we talked about except for the fact that your ex-husband has a lot of shit going on with him. In case you don't know, it's more than delivering hard drugs to people and my men confirmed it—not just with words.” 

“Can you tell me what it is already, Raymond? I'm as confused as a confused person. So, can you please, stop beating about the bush already?—” Standing on her feet, she picked Michelle up. 

“Give me a moment, Raymond. I need to drop her.” Mouthing, she walked over to the cart where the youngster was dropped. Now was the time to walk back and wait for me to give an answer, which I was more than ready to do. 

“Look,” I got on my feet while she took a seat. “I'm ready to speak and I'll do so now. But I need you to understand that this wasn't made up as I'll be proving it to you because I have a backup. Are you ready?” 

Plainly, she gave me a nod. 

“Andrew is a human trafficker.”