It dawned on her, Mrs. Beckingham, that someone was at the door. It could've been William or Lily or even him, the one she longed to see. The pebbles crunched as the car drove up to the entrance. Next came the steps of a young man who went straight into Beckingham Manor without hesitation. He closed the buttons of his shirt, fixed his straight dirty blonde hair by running his fingers through them then sucked his teeth. He entered, pushing both doors open, with a “Mother, I’m back” and a grin.  “So you haven’t moved from there since I left, have you?” He added.

“You sound just like your father. You look like him too when you do that thing with your face.” She raised her glass to where a painting stood, just over the fireplace.

He greeted his mother with a peck on the cheek. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jodi.” He sat down, holding her hands and looking at her admiringly.

  “That.” She mocked. “If he didn’t do that, I wouldn’t have had you.” She swung her glass around lightly as the red wine danced in it. The words slipped from her tongue as she placed the goblet on her lip. “What a mistake that was.”

“Speaking of my father…” He tapped the back of her hand lightly before sitting up. “Have you talked to him?”

“Of course, he claims he’s in South Africa.” She gave a slight chuckle, not one to laugh at a joke but one that brushed off the fact that he pegged her for a fool.

He placed his hand on his chin, caressing it as he asked.  “So where do you think he is?”

“Ugh, your father’s in Washington, William. Definitely.” She brought herself up then walked to the fire place. She said it in a low tone “I know.” She rubbed the white mantle over it.

  “How do you know?” He flipped his foot up on his thigh, eager to hear her answer.

“Because I heard her, that tramp snoring as he spoke.” She took off the ring she wore, looking at it, concerned and inconsolable “William…”

  “Yes, mother?” He looked up to her. 

William was a handsome man, he carried himself well. He had this way of looking at people, women in particular, even his mother. He used his eyes, they looked like they were half closed but they were also bright, bright and blue. Blue was the color of his mother’s eyes and her traits with his father’s were a recipe for the perfect man. 

 She sighed before saying. “Is it possible... that one day your father would stop calling?” 

  “He has everything here. He wouldn’t do that.” William explained, he soon reached his mother’s side once more. He rubbed her shoulders and kissed her forehead, slowly whiffing her hair before letting her go. He always knew how to comfort her, William used to tell her that he'd never leave her side and she knew her son meant every word.

“I’m going to take a bath.” He unbuttoned his shirt as he made his way out the door and up the staircase.

His mother slipped the ring back on her finger, looking at the diamond as it changed every time she moved her hand. She pushed some hair back and grabbed hold of her glass before four words left her mouth. “I wish he would.”

What happened to him? Was he just to give her the title Mrs. Beckingham then leave?  She took a rest in the library and began pondering her husband… when did it all fall apart? She was feckless when it came to the man she loved. They were settling fine when they eloped with his father’s money. Was he a bigger thief than she was? His greatest heist must've been stealing her heart. He was way over the line, wasn’t he? He was supposed to be there for her. But even after all these years, she kept on loving him and this love grew to give her a melancholy feeling, a pain in her chest when something reminded her of the days when they were young and mischievous. Then life moved on as it should and he wanted to follow the show girls and street walkers. Mrs. Beckingham heard that the girl he was with now was half her own age, almost as young as William.  She was a beautiful and smart lass, a sly fox. Jodi heard that the woman had entered law school, she'd laugh at him. He'd been outsmarted. He was hiding his money from his own wife and child, just to give it away to this girl. When the well ran dry, she would begin to seek sanctuary elsewhere or she would build her own well. He’d be left to come back home, with his wife and child or continue being a host to a new parasite. His good looks were only a bonus to these “other women”, it’s his money they were after. She knew him when he was dirt poor, she loved him, she still loved him and now he was out there giving her love to other women but she would still wait. If he hadn't any more love to give and he just pretended, Jodi wouldn't cry or fret, she'd be thankful he was home and with her. She’d rather pretend than the cold truth, anyway and she’d rather a pretty fantasy than an ugly reality.  She drowned them out with every drink: the naysayers and the gossipers. It couldn't be harder than that, figuring out how she is the way she is, why she was a sophisticated drunkard. 

It all started six years ago.

“He isn’t blind but he sure acts like it.” She would discuss it with her mother-in-law but when she died, he left for the US of A and up until now, he's been ''travelling the world''. That was putting it mildly.

She was now Mrs. Beckingham, the china doll of the estate; she looked pretty and strong but the slightest push would break her into pieces. The only thing that held her now was the holy ghost, the spirits and the identical image of her lover, that  is her son.