Mrs. Bennington was too busy to die. A fact that Nikita was reminded of constantly. Her mother-in-law would say, “If you’re hanging around for Samuel’s inheritance, just know that I’m too busy to die anytime soon.” Sometimes, the comment followed a small disagreement between the women. Other times, it was purposefully said in front of mixed company to embarrass Nikita.

Nikita had been dealing with this for years. Dianna Bennington was a member of Atlanta’s elite, Black community. Her family came from old money, she married into even more money, and she made a career out of protecting her family from outsiders. She demanded a “proper courtship” whenever one of her sons showed any real interest in a woman, which was just her way of getting ample time to vet them. The sons went along with it to keep their monthly allowance checks flowing.

The courtship between Nikita and Samuel lasted a little over a year. They would have gotten married six months after Samuel proposed, but Mrs. Bennington balked at anything less than a year-long engagement. Nikita stuck it out, much to Mrs. Bennington’s dismay, but after three years of marriage she was furious that she was still being treated like a gold-digger.

When Samuel approached her in the courtyard on their college campus years ago, she never imagined that this was how her life would turn out. Samuel was nothing like his mother. He was adventurous, funny, and caring. He moved with a sense of confidence, but he was never arrogant or snobby. Most importantly, Samuel didn’t treat anyone as though they were beneath him. Nikita didn’t even know about his family’s money and social status until their feelings grew for one another, and Samuel insisted that she meet his family before things went any further. She thought he was being a little silly and way too formal about the whole thing. She had no idea that would become the theme of her future.

One Sunday, following an especially long week and multiple arguments with her mother-in-law about child-rearing, Nikita was fed up and refused to attend the family dinner at the Bennington estate.

“Babe, come on. Please don’t do this. We can get through a couple of hours,” Samuel pleaded with her.

“No,” Nikita said firmly. She handed the diaper bag to Samuel, “You go. Take the baby. I can’t do it this week.”

“You know we all have to go at least twice a month, or she’ll cut us off. We can’t afford this place without my allowance. I’m still trying to get my business off the ground,” Samuel said.

“Let her cut us off then! I can go back to work. I’ve told you that a thousand times,” Nikita replied.

“And where will Eli go? You don’t want him in daycare. We wouldn’t be able to afford a nanny,” Samuel reminded her. He softened his voice, “We’re on the same team. I don’t like her holding this money over our heads any more than you do. If I get this right, we won’t need anything from her. I promise. I just need a little more time.” Samuel wrapped his arms around her, and Nikita gave in.

“Just know that if she reminds me that she’s too busy to die today, I might offer her a little assistance so she can get on with it,” Nikita joked.

Nikita and Samuel gave each other pep talks on the drive over to the Bennington estate, and each of them felt much better by they time they pulled into driveway. There were several other cars already parked there, which meant that this was not just a family dinner. That was one of the many annoying facts about the mandatory dinners: they were expected to show up and be dressed appropriately for the occasion, but they were never given a heads up about the details. “Family dinners” could include anyone from local film directors, to the mayor of Atlanta, to prominent pastors from around the southeast. It just depended on who Dianna felt like showing off to that week.

Once they made it inside, Nikita and Samuel were introduced to some members of one the exclusive clubs that Dianna belonged to. She started in on Nikita immediately following the introductions.

“Look at my handsome grandson in his cute little outfit. How adorable would it have been if he had on a little suit? Try something a little more formal next time,” Dianna said, as she smirked at Nikita.

“My apologies. His formal onesie is being dry cleaned,” Nikita responded.

“Honey, could you help me find his toy in this bag?” Samuel interrupted and pulled Nikita away before the conversation went any further.

Dinner went smoothly for the most part, despite Dianna’s continuous snarky comments. Nikita realized about halfway through that they were actually being interviewed by the members of the club. She went along with it, but she had no intentions of joining should the invitation be extended. She couldn’t imagine being surrounded by more people like her mother-in-law who thought they were something special, even though they’d never lifted a finger to earn the money they flaunted around town.

As the conversation turned to investment interests and business opportunities, Dianna couldn’t help but make her favorite joke.

“Nikita already snagged her opportunity. It’s just a shame for her that I’m too busy to die anytime soon,” Dianna said. The room grew quiet. “Oh, come on. It’s a joke,” she continued when no one laughed.

“That’s enough,” Mr. Bennington said. Nikita turned to give her father-in-law a look of appreciation and surprise. He hadn’t said more than a few words all evening. She used to think the man was a pushover, but she’d come to realize that he was just tired. Going toe to toe with Dianna was draining, and he’d probably given up years ago.

“Let’s move into the parlor for coffee, and maybe some dessert if anyone has room,” Mr. Bennington spoke again, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the room. Everyone murmured in agreement and began moving to the next room. Mr. Bennington went into the kitchen as the staff came out and began clearing the table. Nikita hung back to speak to him in private.

“You didn’t have to do that. But thank you,” Nikita said when he came back through the door with the coffee tray.

“I’ve always hated that joke,” Mr. Bennington responded. “Do me a favor, and take this into the parlor,” he said while handing her the tray. “I’ll be right there.”

As Nikita turned the corner with the tray, Dianna walked out of the parlor.

“I have to take a call,” she said, holding up her cell phone as if Nikita had asked for proof. Nikita nodded slightly in her direction, but continued walking. “Try and make a good impression, dear. It’s hard enough to get you into my clubs with your background. You’ve got to put in a little more effort,” Dianna said over her shoulder.

Nikita bit her tongue and kept walking. She wasn’t going to be drawn into another argument. The night would be over soon enough. She walked into the parlor, and poured everyone a cup of coffee. Mr. and Mrs. Bennington walked into the parlor together a few minutes later. Nikita noticed that they both looked irritated, and she suspected that Mr. Bennington had warned her not to make anymore “jokes.”

“How nice of you to serve us,” Dianna said to Nikita as she sat down. “It suits you.”

“I’m just trying to help out. I know how busy you always are,” Nikita responded with a smile. “Cream and sugar?”

“A little of both. Thank you,” Dianna responded. As soon as Nikita sat down, Dianna held out her cup and said, “This is actually a little cold.”

“Isn’t that what you have service staff for, Mom?” Samuel asked. “Nikita’s not going to be running back and forth –”

“It’s fine,” Nikita said, cutting Samuel off. “Really, I don’t mind.”

Nikita returned with a fresh cup of coffee for Mrs. Bennington several minutes later. She sat down next to Samuel and rejoined the conversation. As Nikita was politely declining an invitation to the club’s gala next month, Dianna began fidgeting around in her seat. She seemed very uncomfortable.

“I think we’re going to have to call it a night,” Dianna said abruptly, as she stood up.

“Seriously, Dianna, what has gotten into you?” Mr. Bennington asked, obviously irritated by his wife’s behavior. All of the chatter in the parlor came to a halt.

“No really, I’m not feeling well,” Dianna said in a hushed tone. “It could have been something I ate. That coffee tasted a little weird, it was too sweet.”

“Just go upstairs. I’ll see everyone out. I’ll have something brought up to you,” Mr. Bennington whispered back to her. He addressed the room in a louder voice, “Please excuse my wife. She’s feeling a little under the weather. But don’t rush yourselves. Please, finish your conversations. Enjoy the desserts.”

As the chatter slowly started back up, Nikita hurried out into the hall to catch Dianna. “I hope you feel better,” she said, her voice full of mock concern. “I know how much you have to do tomorrow. I wouldn’t want this to slow you down,” she said and placed her hand on Dianna’s shoulder.

“Give it a rest,” Dianna said, shrugging her hand away. “I really do feel terrible. I feel like I’m dying.”

“Oh no, you’re too busy to die,” Nikita said in the most innocent voice she could muster. Mrs. Bennington and Nikita locked eyes for a few seconds, before Nikita turned to walk away. Right before she entered the parlor, she heard a thud as Mrs. Bennington fell to the ground. Nikita kept walking. The service staff would find her in a couple of minutes. Besides, she had provided enough assistance for one night.

The End.

Written By: S.M. Grady

© 2019 S.M. Grady

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