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He looked at her and grinned.
“Mama, were you foxed?” Abena asked as she reached for the bread.
“How many times must I teach you to watch your mouth, child?” my mother snapped at her. “But no, I am not. Ladies do not become foxed. Because it is unbecoming to drink to excess.”
My father snorted, and when my mother’s glare shifted, he focused on his newspaper.
“Your ladyship,” the maid said, giving her a drink that was only needed for when one drank in excess.
“Thank you,” my mother replied and then drank all of it…at one time. My father watched, rather amused.
“I am glad you enjoyed your ball, my love,” he said to her when she was finished. “So much so you did not even realize you drank to excess.”
“So you were foxed!” Abena exclaimed.
“Pots!” Mother snapped at Abena.
“Mama, it is breakfast.” Abena pouted then looked at our father, who was hiding behind the paper.
“You may have all the breakfast you want when you learn proper breakfast conversation,” my mother said.
“Papa—” Abena began when we saw Damon finally enter the outside hall.
“Damon?” Silva began to rise but then paused, looking to my mother. To leave as she desired would have been rude.
“Mother, Father, excuse me,” Damon said when he entered the room. “I will change and come right down.”
“You mean to tell me you have not been here?” my mother questioned and then looked to Silva, who had told us he retired earlier in the evening. “All night?”
“I was needed elsewhere. Excuse me,” he said and turned to leave.
“I shall go tend to him,” Silva said, rising.
I watched as Abena filled her plate with as much food as she could carry. “And I shall go to the pots!” She ran off.
My mother usually would have called her on her actions, but her mind was elsewhere. Sneaky little squirrel.
“He was out all night,” my mother said to my father, who was reading the paper.
“Apparently, he was needed elsewhere,” my father replied.
“The only one who could have needed him at such an hour is his wife, and she was here,” she muttered angrily lifting her hands to rub her temples. “My ball was a success, yet all you children seek to give me panic.”
“What did I do?” Hathor exclaimed. “It was Odite who stood melancholy all night despite all her suitors asking for dances, which you made her quite proficient in. And Damon vanished. I was splendid.”
“Do not let me cast my eye on you, child, for if I do, you will see that I caught all the times when you dropped your handkerchief or fainted upon the Dukes of Brunhild and Alfonce as if you were not born with strong enough lungs to contain air,” my mother replied.
Hathor looked away to drink her juice, and Hector and Devana giggled.
“And you.” My mother finally reached me. “You and I shall speak later.”
“Mama, are you not tired?” I asked her for the second time in two days. “Why not take the day and rest your nerves?”
“I assure you, you do not wish to deal with her well rested,” my father chimed in.
“Later,” my mother repeated.
Heavenly Father, spare me from my mortal mother.
