Chapter One : Woman are made for the Kitchen
"Hahaha! Cheers!" A man in his early thirties raised his glass to toast with his friends. He held a chicken in his hand, his belly a bit chubby from the delightful feast and his face showing the effects of the ample amount of alcohol he had been enjoying.
"Diego, your wife can cook," he remarked as he took a sip from his glass. "Let me keep her in my house for a week," he jokingly suggested.
Laughter filled the room, shared by the other man, who had an oval-shaped head and a rather lean appearance, as well as Mr. Mondragon himself.
"Don't be silly, Leo," Mr. Mondragon playfully responded and they all joined in the laughter as they enjoyed the camaraderie of the moment.
"Where is she?" The man with the oval head looked around, searching for Mr. Diego's wife.
"Where else will she be?" Mr. Diego Mondragon replied with a chuckle and leaned toward him.
"The kitchen, of course," Leo added, and they all shared another round of laughter.
Leo continued, "Women are supposed to be in the kitchen and nowhere else," which added another round of laughter to their conversation…
With a grin, he raised his plate high and said, "More food! I need to refill my plate. You can't find this kind of cuisine anywhere else. Even my sometimes arrogant wife can't match these culinary skills!"….………
Mr. Diego turned to one of the ten maids standing nearby as they feasted and instructed, "You heard him. Go and tell my wife that we need more of her signature dishes.
The man with the oval head complimented, "You really know how to hold a feast…" Mr. Diego smiled and left his glass up, "I’ll drink to that!"
The maid quickly rushed to inform Mrs. Mondragon, fully aware that any delay or failure to do so might cost her job. She entered the house from outside where the festivities were taking place.
The grand exterior hinted at the luxury inside. The shiny tiled floors reflected every step, almost like glass. The sitting room had golden accents that stood out against the crisp white walls, giving it a rich and elegant feel.
Inside, everything spoke of wealth and comfort. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, warm light. The rooms were filled with beautifully carved antique furniture, each piece covered in soft, velvety cushions, making the space feel both classy and inviting…
The maid rushed through the spotless white hallways, where expensive paintings hung on the walls and vases overflowed with fresh flowers.
As she neared the kitchen, the mouthwatering aroma of food filled the air. Mrs. Mondragon was known for her exceptional cooking, and she took great pride in preparing delicious meals for her guests…
As the maid stepped into the kitchen, she found Mrs. Mondragon deep in the midst of her cooking. Though only a few months pregnant, she worked tirelessly, her face marked with exhaustion from both her role as a hostess and the strain of her condition. Yet, her determination to ensure her guests were well-fed never wavered.
The kitchen buzzed with activity...pots simmered on the stove, and a team of maids moved swiftly under Mrs. Mondragon’s careful direction. Despite her fatigue, she remained focused, leaning against the counter for support while overseeing every detail. Her apron, smeared with traces of her hard work, was proof of her unwavering dedication.
The maid approached Mrs. Mondragon, whispering the guest's request for more food. Mrs. Mondragon acknowledged it with a nod. She had been through many such feasts, and she knew the importance of satisfying her guests' appetites. With grace and resilience, she continued her culinary creations, ensuring that the food would be nothing short of extraordinary.
In just 20 minutes, she had finished cooking. With two maids carrying the dishes behind her, she made her way to the dining area.
As she approached, Mr. KM Smith took notice. "Ah, there you are," he said warmly.
She responded with a polite bow and a respectful greeting
Mr. Leo Wool chimed in, "Join us, join us!" He had a friendly smile on his face, indicating that he wanted her to dine with them.
Thank you, I have to go work on something. She said and turn to walk away.
She heard what he said, which made her sad because she knew that once he discover the gender of her child in her womb and it's not a boy, her husband, Mr. Diego, is going to beat her until she has a miscarriage. Each step she took to walk away, a tear dropped from her eye.
She entered her bedroom, a cozy and homely space furnished with a large, comfortable bed at its center. He closed the door behind her, drawing her towards the wall. Gently, she descended while her back remained against the wall, and tears began to well up in her eyes.
"I'm going to lose another one, another child, and if it's a girl," she said, her voice trembling as she began hitting her chest while sobbing. "I hate my life," she added through clenched teeth.
With her back and head against the door, she continued to cry, her sobs echoed in the room.
Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from upstairs, growing louder with each step. Panic and frustration surged through her as she darted her eyes left and right, desperately searching for a way to steady herself.
With trembling hands, she wiped away her tears using the edge of her sari, trying to hide the storm of emotions threatening to consume her. Her heart pounded as she hurried to the edge of the bed, sitting down quickly, forcing herself to appear calm.....as if nothing had happened.
The door burst open, and it was Mr. Mandragon. He slammed the door shut behind him which created a thunderous noise that made Thersa jump in fright. "Thersa!" he called out with sharp and demanding voice. Mr. Mandragon had a particular way of calling his wife, and it always sent shivers down her spine. She walked towards him, trembling like a child facing their abuser, her eyes filled with a multitude of unspoken fears and secrets.
Mr. Mandragon pivoted to face the opposite direction, leaving his wife standing behind him. He placed one hand on his waist and used the other to massage his chin, his fury intensifying with each passing second. He looked like a lion preparing to pounce on its prey…
He turned to face his wife and without hesitation, his hand swung through the air and he landed a harsh slap that sent her crashing to the floor.
Her palms hit the cold tiles, her reflection staring back at her from the glossy surface. Tears streamed down her face, mixed with the blood trickling from her nose, but she made no sound only the trembling of her body revealed the pain she felt inside.
"When are you going to learn, Thersa?" Mr. Mandrago's voice thundered with fury as he pointed at his wife on the floor.
He stormed across the room, his hands moving furiously as he spoke. "Why on earth would you expose your baby bump for them to see? You should know better!
"Nobody should see the bump until we know the gender. Do you want the world to mock me? What will people think if I give birth to a girl?’’ ….She sat silently on the floor, tears falling, looking utterly exhausted and hopeless, as if she'd lost all will to keep going right at the moment..
He made soothing sounds, "Tswww, Tswwww, don’t cry, baby. Don't cry, my love," and quickly moved from where he stood to kneel on the floor next to his wife.
He touched her and embraced her, lifting her tear-streaked face and gently wiping away the tears, as if he hadn't been the cause of them.
"You just have to listen to me, Thersa, and we will be great,"Looking as though he regretted something, Mr. Mandrago stood and entered their walk-in dressing room, which was about the same size as their bedroom. The dressing room was divided into two sections: his had a modern old-fashioned style with painted grey walls, while his wife’s side had a classic but simple style. He went in, picked up a parcel bag, and returned to their bedroom. Here, he stretched out his hands and placed it on a chair.
"Wear this for tonight’s gala" he said reluctantly.."They want to see you right beside me. Not that I have a choice." He continued, "It’s a loose dress; they won’t even notice the bump."he said. He stood up quickly, just as he had knelt, and sat on the edge of their bed.
He walked out of the room, leaving Mrs. Mandragon still sitting on the floor, her face reflecting the pain and exhaustion she felt.
