From Roots to Riches

Chapter2

“Sorry but we can’t hire you,” the interviewer said, not even bothering to look at him. “Our company thrives on appearance and you don’t…” he paused, eyes flicking dismissively over West’s ill-fitting suit, “fit in.” With a painful wave, he dismissed West and called for the next applicant.

West trudged out of the office building, his shoulders slumping under the weight of yet another rejection. It had been two agonizing weeks since he was fired from The Greene Agency, and each passing day, finding a new job seemed more impossible.

Every interview always resulted in same response - “we’ll call you” or “not quite what we’re looking for.” It was really sad, and it chipped away at his already low self-esteem. But it was returning to the mansion that really increased his blood pressure everyday.

His mother-in-law Anna, had mastered the subtle art of manipulation. She wielded food like a weapon, withholding meals over minor issues likes unfinished chores or his excess weight. His father-in-law Donald, seemed to enjoy reminding him of how worthless he was as a jobless fool.

Nancy, his wife of barely four months avoided him like a plague and even when they crossed paths, she used every opportunity to insult him for his joblessness and inability to function without her well-to-do family. The servants, quick to align with the family’s disdain, had also mastered the art of looking through him as If he were invisible.

Henry, his brother-in-law and friend from college, was the only one in the household who treated him like family and was always available and open to converse with him.

Now, exhausted and sweating, West collapsed into the worn out chair tucked in the corner of his bedroom - the smallest in the mansion. He’d spent three hours mowing the lawn under Anna’s watchful supervision, the scorching sun burning his neck while she occasionally called out spots he’d “missed.”

After a lukewarm shower - the hot water mysteriously malfunctioned whenever he bathed - he opened his laptop, its aged fan whirring in protest. He scrolled job listings for an hour, without any luck. His temples throbbed like hell.

His bedroom door crashed open with enough force to rattle the windows in their frames. His head snapped up to find Anna standing in the doorway, looking real pissed.

“Why are you in here?” she demanded, nostrils flaring. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” her voice carried the same tone one might use with a servant.

West fought back a wave of frustration, wondering what the problem was this time, and why she was staring at him like that. Gesturing to his laptop, he replied, “I was just checking job listings online.”

“I don’t care about that,” she spat, her words filled with contempt. “There are numerous chores lying around, and you’re up here, what - playing on your computer?”

“Chores?” West’s eyes widened. “I just finished the lawn…”

“Mrs. Edison is at the store,” Anna cut him off, “buying everything you failed to get yesterday because of your incompetence. Now go help with the dishes. I’ll have more tasks when she returns.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and stormed out.

West sighed heavily as he slumped back, the chair creaking under his weight. Yesterday’s disaster with the lost credit card was humiliating enough - returning empty-handed to face Anna’s screams, Donald’s daily lecture about him being a failure, and Nancy’s silent retreat to her room. Now it seemed they were determined to make him pay for it ten times over.

Dragging his hands through his hair, he stood up and walked to the kitchen. It’s better to get this over and done with.

He got there and found an incredibly full sink. He plunged his hands into the lukewarm water and got to work. Midway into washing, realization dawned - most of the dishes were already clean. Someone deliberately dirtied and stacked them to create more work for him. His hands began to shake, fingernails digging into his palms as rage built in his chest.

He whirled around, ready to confront Anna about this petty cruelty, only to collide with Nancy. She clutched a stack of plates, barely managing to keep them from crashing to the floor before deliberately dumping them into the sink with a clatter.

Still consumed with anger, West grabbed her shoulders without thinking. “Come back here.”

Nancy recoiled as if burned, violently shrugging off his touch. “Get off me!” she shrieked, stumbling backward. Her eyes, so like her mother’s, filled with revulsion. “How dare you lay your fingers on me?”

The anger drained from as quickly as it had come, leaving only shame. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I was just frustrated. I shouldn’t have…”

“And what can a stupid guy like you be suddenly frustrated about?” Nancy’s voice dripped with acid. “You don’t deserve to be frustrated when you have nothing, you fat fool!”

West cringed at her words. The insults weren’t new - he’d grown almost numb to them - but they still left a painful hollow in his heart. “What is it, Nancy?” He asked, his voice rough with emotions. “Is it an annulment you want?”

Something flickered across Nancy’s face - fear? Concern? - before her features hardened again. “Do whatever you wish, you good-for-nothing prick,” she snarled, but her voice wavered slightly as she fled up the stairs.

***********

Nancy barely made it to her room before the panic set in. She slammed the door and began pacing, her hands pressed against her churning stomach. This couldn’t be happening - not now, not when everything was almost over.

An annulment? The word echoed in her mind like a death knell. All their careful planning, the months of tolerating him, pretending to love and care when all she wanted to do was throw up in his face. It would all be for nothing if West filed for an annulment before they were even ready.

She couldn’t entirely blame him. The bastard must be getting frustrated by now with the way he was being treated. Well it serves him right, the i***t came from nothing, an absolute urchin who dared think he could be part of their world.

“Stupid, stupid,” she muttered, as she strode to her walk-in closet. With fingers trembling slightly she selected a two-piece business suit. This couldn’t wait - she needed to talk to her father immediately.