Not wanting to push the issue further, I decided to drop the subject and respect his boundaries.
“Tell me whatever terrible thing you did when you’re ready.” I flashed him a brief reassuring smile and then returned to my task.
Just then, a loud coarse voice echoed from the living room, snapping both our focus to the doorway.
“XAVIER! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!”
Mr. Clinton let out a sigh as he hastened towards the doorway.
Curiosity etched on my face as I trailed behind Mr. Clinton into the living room.
“Who’s that?” I whispered, tugging on his sleeve.
Mr. Clinton’s expression was a mix of frustration and wariness. “My troublesome sister,” he murmured, picking up the pace.
“Sister? Mr. Clinton, you have a sister?” I asked, my brow furrowing in surprise. “You never told me.”
He didn’t respond, his face stern and serious as if he was ready for an intense battle. And it made me wonder why his sister’s presence seemed to stir up his frustration.
As we entered the living room, a woman with wild, curly hair and blazing brown eyes stormed towards us. Her fiery gaze locked onto Mr. Clinton, her expression twisted in rage.
“Xavier! How could you be so reckless? How could you?” she exclaimed, her voice shrill.
Mr. Clinton’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with warning. “Juniper, please. Not here. Not now. Okay?”
Juniper’s gaze flicked to me, her expression twisting into a scowl. “And who’s this? Is she the cook who almost killed my mother?” she snapped, pointing her finger towards me.
I felt a shiver run down my spine as her hostility washed over me. Her intense gaze never left mine; it was as if her eyes were like blades cutting through me.
“Juniper, that’s enough,” Mr. Clinton said firmly, stepping forward.
But Juniper refused to back down. With a long stride, she crossed the distance between us, her footsteps heavy and echoing with rage.
“No, it’s not enough! How could you employ such an incompetent, reckless staff that almost got my mother killed?” she spat, her voice trembling. The air was thick with tension as her rage seemed to boil over.
I felt a pang of discomfort, sensing the depth of her pain and anger. She must have misunderstood the whole issue, and seeing her personality, it would be hard to reason with her.
Mr. Clinton held up his hands, a calming gesture, stepping in front of me protectively. “Juniper, please. Let’s go talk about this.”
But Juniper was beyond reason. She barreled on, her words spewing forth like a torrent. “Let’s go talk? When did the both of us ever reason with words? We solve our issues with action. Don’t forget that!”
“Juniper, stop,” Xavier commanded, his voice firm. “Stop making a big deal out of this. Look at her,” he said, pointing to Miss Ross, who had silently watched everything unfold while massaging her temples.
“She is fine now…” Mr. Clinton added, his voice now taking on a softer tone.
Juniper’s gaze snapped to me, her eyes narrowing. She chuckled, crossing her arms. “So you’re not going to punish her for adding peanuts to her meal?” Then her voice lowered as her expression turned thoughtful. “Or perhaps you didn’t warn her about it…did you?”
“I did… but it wasn’t her fault.” Mr. Clinton sighed in exasperation. “I wanted to explain to you, but you wouldn’t let me. It was someone else’s doing, and she is already behind bars.”
Juniper’s gaze softened for a brief moment before abruptly turning back to a dark shade. “And you think by telling me that it’s gonna make it all better? Thank your lucky stars she is fine.”
“Oh, you now realize she is fine,” Mr. Clinton sneered, rolling his eyes before looking away, his frustration still evident.
I stood there, darting my eyes between the both of them, but of course making sure to avoid eye contact with Juniper. She seemed harsh and strict in a way that sent a creeping tingle crawling over me.
Juniper rushed to Miss Ross, who was seated on the sofa, her expression transforming in an instant. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?” she asked softly, gently stroking her shoulder.
Miss Ross just stared at her with a blank expression, without uttering a word.
Juniper caught on to her mother’s sharp stare and looked down to reflect on herself. “Are you angry with me, mother?”
“Yes, I am.” Miss Ross finally spoke up, her face stern but a hint of amusement still visible in her voice.
“What was that display all about? You haven’t changed a bit,” she said, a small smile curling up her lips.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at her display of tough love in a stern and firm demeanor-a unique blend of scolding and warmth.
Juniper didn’t respond; instead, she wrapped her arms around her mother in an affectionate embrace. “When I got the news, I was so scared…” she said, her voice firm but betraying her composure. “It made me recall how it happened, like the time you choked and gasped for air…”
Mr. Clinton glanced at me as he noticed my eyes were solely fixed on the mother-and-daughter pair, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern, as if wondering how I was processing this emotional scene.
I offered a reassuring smile, and he nodded slightly, returning his attention to the heartwarming moment unfolding before us.
Miss Ross’s stern expression softened as she wrapped her arms around Juniper, holding her close. “I’m fine, dear. But you should have used a calmer approach other than yelling at your elder brother.”
“Mother, I was so worried.” Juniper’s grip tightened, her voice muffled against her mother’s shoulder. But I could still sense the stern undertone. “Xavier shouldn’t have allowed that to happen. He should have been…”
“You’re still not satisfied with my explanation,” Mr. Clinton interrupted, his voice stern.
“No, I’m not, Xavier…” Juniper pulled away from her embrace, her gaze snapping to Mr. Clinton. “And I haven’t forgiven you or whoever did this…” She then turned to Miss Ross as she sprang up from the sofa. “Mother, where is your room? Let me go pack your things. We’ll be leaving,” she declared firmly, attempting to go up the stairs, but Mr. Clinton swiftly blocked her path.
“She can’t leave; she needs to rest at least for a few days.” He firmly stood his ground as his eyes locked onto Juniper’s, his tone brooking no argument.
Juniper’s gaze flashed with frustration, but Mr. Clinton didn’t budge.
“Mother needs to get as far away from here since you couldn’t take care of her properly.” Juniper pressed on, her voice rising. “You understood her allergy more than anyone, and yet she ate peanuts under your watch,” she said aggressively, leaning in, her face mere inches from Mr. Clinton.
While the siblings continued their argument, I settled on the sofa beside Miss Ross, my eyes still fixed on the duo. “Is this how they’ve always been?” I asked Miss Ross, and she chuckled and nodded, amusement evident on her face.
“I can’t take that chance with you,” Juniper shot back, and Mr. Clinton retaliated in an instant, his voice flaring. “You’re going to sit there, and we’ll talk. Because I won’t allow you to take a journey with her when she hasn’t recovered.”
As I watched the brother and sister duo, I exhaled deeply.
It’s gonna be a long day.