untitled (part 1)

Angela approached her father’s sprawling mansion with a mixture of dread, anger, sadness, and regret.  It had been five years, seven months, and three days since she’d seen or spoken with him.  Oh, he’d tried to find her, but she was smarter than the detectives who were sent to sniff her out.  She’d gotten rid of every shred of her identity and slipped away like a thief in the night.  She remembered seeing her own picture on the front page of the newspapers, and watching the chief of police make a public statement on TV that their search would continue until she was found.  But the search had fizzled out after months of dead ends and false leads.  Angela almost felt guilty for disappearing and causing all of the ensuing chaos.  But what she’d done certainly wasn’t illegal, and she’d had every reason for wanting to disassociate from her family.  After the public humiliation, she’d done what she thought was best for herself.
    Approaching the front door, Angela rang the bell and waited, surveying the assorted plants that decorated the sprawling porch.  Idly, she wondered if Jose was still taking care of the yard for them.  He’d been a kind young man who spoke with broken English and lived in the servants’ quarters with his wife and two children.  Her thoughts were interrupted when the door swung open to none other than her father’s young trophy wife, Bianca.  Ten years her junior, Bianca was a brash young girl who had an inborn ability to instigate family feuds.  Indeed, she’d been at the root of the explosive fight that had ended with Angela’s public humiliation and eventual disappearance.  And now here she was, face to face with Susan, her old rival.    There were no smiles to be shared, and Angela wasted no time in getting to the point and explaining the reason for her visit.
    “I read the news that my father is very sick and I would like to speak to him,” Angela said, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead.  The July heat held mercy for no one, and the cool air spilling from the doorway felt like heaven.  The beautiful, busty brunette stiffened, and a scowl overcame her pretty face.
    “Where,” her words trailed off for a moment as she stood in stunned silence.  “Where have you been?  Everyone thought you were dead,” she whispered, looking Angela up and down as if she had just dropped out of the clear blue sky.  Angela was glad to see the horror on her face.  She was glad to finally come back, and glad to confront the woman who’d only married her father in order to inherit his massive wealth. 
    “Bianca, listen to me, and listen good—I’m here to speak to my father.  I don’t owe you an explanation.  Do you understand?” Angela growled.  The old animosities were coming to the surface now, and Angela had no patience to deal with her father’s plastic wife.  She knew good and well that Bianca was just waiting for him to die, just waiting for all that money to be hers and hers alone.  It wasn’t any big secret. 
    “He’s asleep right now, Angela.  I don’t think—“
    “Well then wake him up.  I am not leaving until I see him.”
    “Don’t cop an attitude with me, Angela.  This is no longer your house and I have the right to call the police if you try and bully me.”
    Angela had traveled over a thousand miles to make this trip, and there was no way she was going to back down now.  She didn’t want to fight with Bianca, but she would if she had to.  The girl had never understood the meaning of the word respect, and Angela supposed she never would. 
    “Get out of my way, Bianca.” She said, pushing past the girl.  The hallway floors mirrored their reflection as Bianca grabbed a hold of Susan’s tee shirt, trying to prevent her from going any further.  But she was starting a fight she wouldn’t win.  Of this, Angela was sure. 
    “No!  Get out of my house, you bitch!” She screamed, throwing a punch that sent a shockwave of pain through the back of Susan’s skull.  Bianca was using her karate skills to try and take Susan down, but at one hundred five pounds soaking wet, she was also a lightweight who could easily be wrestled to the ground if the right opportunity presented itself.  Susan turned around to face her attacker and was met with a swift roundhouse kick.  But Susan’s reflexes were quick enough that she caught the girl’s leg as it made contact with her midsection. 
    For a split second, the two women were locked in an intricate pose—Bianca like a ballerina, standing gracefully on one leg, and Susan, holding the other with an inescapable grip.  Then, with one swift move, Susan tripped her father’s Barbie doll wife and she fell to the ground with a horrified scream.  Before she could recover, and as their servants’ faces began to appear, Susan was lying on top of Bianca.  Understanding that she’d been neutralized as a physical threat, the angry little girl did the only other thing she could think of and spit in Susan’s face.
    “Call the police,” she screamed.  But the servants who recognized Susan were already chattering amongst themselves, and Bianca’s command went unheeded. 
    Susan wiped the spit from her face and shook her head with a chuckle.  She would never understand why her father had chosen such a spoiled little girl to see him through his remaining years.  “Bianca, I am not here to try and take the millions of dollars you think you deserve when he dies.  I am merely here to speak with him.  Do you understand?”    The shaken girl reluctantly shook her head yes, she understood.  But the hatred in her eyes never budged.  Susan didn’t expect it to.  She knew the venomous little snake would always hate her, but that wasn’t important anymore.  She was as irrelevant to Susan as yesterday’s news.  “Now, are you going to behave like an adult if I let you up?” 
    “YES, OKAY?  JUST GET OFF OF ME, YOU HORRIBLE BITCH!”
    Susan rose from the floor swiftly and offered her hand to Bianca.  “I don’t need your help.  I can get up by myself,” she said in a huff.  “Someone take her to Charles’ bedroom and inform me when this THING leaves.  I’ll be at the pool.  Oh, and Gretta, bring me a vodka on the rocks, please.  Wait, make that two vodkas on the rocks,” she said with a wave of her hand as she vanished down the hallway that led to the west wing of the house.