CHAPTER FIVE
1196 Words
“Was it your intention for me to eat this breakfast or not?” Elliott asked Nella before she could even reach the spot that he was.
He turned his wheelchair to properly face Nella.
Nella stopped at once and looked a bit confused at the question.
“Of course, I want you to eat it, that's why I prepared it,” Nella responded innocently, without a glimpse of what Elliott really meant.
“Where was I supposed to stay and eat that food?”
He asked with his eyes piercing into Nella's eyes.
It was at this point that it occurred to Nella that Elliott was actually talking about the chair that she had replaced earlier in the morning.
“Oh, I'm so sorry Sir…” she says as she ran to shift the chair away and make space for Elliott to stay at the dining table.
“Are you always this dumb?”
On hearing this, Nella slowly dropped the chair she was carrying to the corner and walked towards Elliott.
She looked at Elliott sternly, in a way that she wouldn't do normally.
“What sort of look is that? Are you trying to scare me in my own house? Elliott asked Nella, trying to turn his face from her a little.
“I'm not dumb, Mr Elliott," Nella said, trying to blink a little and control the anger that was already fuming inside her.
He could already feel the tension in her voice.
“Nella, You're fired,” Elliott responded back to Nella.
“Sir, but I just started working today,” Nella says in frustration. She couldn't understand why Elliott would be this bitter.
“Please Sir, I promise I will do better. Just give me a chance, please,” Nella says.
She stood there still pleading with Elliott, but he just stared at her disgustingly and hissed. He rolled his wheelchair to his room without looking back at Nella.
She stood there a bit, confused about what to do next. She dragged the tray from the dining table, walked into the kitchen and slammed the door.
Nella bent her head over the kitchen counter, trying to calm herself down, then Martha walked in.
“Good afternoon, ma,” she greeted Martha, trying to force a smile on her face.
“I heard voices upstairs. What's the problem?” Martha asked Nella.
“He fired me,” Nella answered with tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I really need this job Ma, please help me.”
Martha smiled on hearing what Nella had just said.
“He basically says that to everyone, Nella, you really don't have to get angry over that. Just do your job well,” she said, and patted Nella at her back.
“ I employed you into this house, and he can't fire you without my approval. Not to worry dear, I will talk to him,” Martha said and left the kitchen.
Nella was a little calm now. She breathed in and out and started preparing to cook lunch.
“But why were her eyes red? Is she in some kind of trouble or something?” Elliott thought to himself, the picture of Nella’s eyes when she stared at him kept resonating in his mind.
There was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” Elliott answered from inside.
“It's me, Nella”
Elliott hissed and kept quiet.
Nella knocked again but more loudly this time.
“Come in before you break down my door,” Elliott shouted from inside.
The door opened and Nella entered inside with a tray.
“Would you like to eat your lunch here or should I place it on the dining table?” Nella asked still standing with the tray at the door.
“What's in it?” Elliott asked reluctantly.
She opens the plate on the tray. There were potatoes and chicken gravy by the side.
“Close it and take it away.”
“What…….why?” Nella asked, agitated by what Elliott had just said.
Elliott responded, “The problem is you don't decide for me, you ask questions first.”
“I just figured you would like the food. I'm sorry”
“So what do you want for lunch, sir?” Nella asked, keeping a straight face and pretending not to be pissed.
“I'm not hungry,” Elliott said and turned his wheelchair, facing the window and staring at the pool like nothing had just happened.
Nella was confused about how to react. She turned back to leave.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Elliott asked just before she could step out of the door.
She looked at Elliott and hesitated a little.
“No,” she answered.
“Okay, just close my door behind you.”
Nella was fuming inside of her but still, work had to continue.
“Doctor, please, just be patient with me. I promise I will bring the balance by the weekend, please,” Nella pleaded with the doctor over the phone.
The doctor had called to remind her of the balance for Nathaniel's surgery.
“I will be waiting for your response, Miss Nella. There is nothing else I can do. I'm caught up too at this point,” the doctor told Nella,
Nella heard a slight cough behind her and turned
“Let me call you back doctor,” she said and ended the call.
“Do you need anything, Sir?” Nella asked as she stepped towards Elliott, who was on his wheelchair right behind her
“How much do you owe your doctor?” Elliott asked Nella in a calmer voice than usual.
Nella, confused at first, pretended she hadn't heard what Elliott just said. She just looked strangely at him.
“How much do you owe your doctor?” Elliott asked again.
“$800,” Nella answered, scratching her hair and avoiding eye contact with Elliot.
She felt a bit embarrassed.
Elliott brought out his phone and extended it to Nella.
“Put your Account number and Routing number there”.
Nella hesitated a bit but collected the phone and inputted the numbers and the bank name and gave it back to Elliott.
Nella's phone beeped and she checked it.
She covered her mouth with her hand in amusement, surprised at the amount that she saw.
“You sent Two thousand dollars, sir” she says, still looking surprised.
“That should be enough to cover everything,”
“Thank you so much, Mr Elliott, I'm truly grateful,” Nella said in gratitude.
“I want you gone from this house by evening,” Elliott said coldly.
Nella's facial expression changed.
“I don't want to sound ungrateful sir, just that it's unfortunate that it was your mother that employed me, and she is the only one that can fire me,” Nella responded to Elliott.
“Please just leave,” Elliott said as he turned his wheelchair to leave.
“By the way, you don't look sick, I wonder what you owe a doctor for…?” Elliott continued as he made his way out of the kitchen.
- Writer
