C7: Get Rid of Her

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Meanwhile, away from where Ysabelle was mulling over Derek’s question, Mrs. Joyce Miti slammed her hand on the table, causing the cutlery to rattle.

Her outburst drew the attention of the other diners. Too vexed with Ysabelle to care, she paid them no mind.

“I’m telling you, that woman is a jinx!”

Unlike Ysabelle, who was clad in rags even by her own best standards, Joyce was dressed in a beautiful chitenge outfit fresh from the tailor’s shop.

She wore a blue high-waisted paneled skirt with large orange floral patterns, paired with a bright orange lace top and black pumps. The head wrap on her head matched her chitenge outfit perfectly.

“I have been telling you that for the longest time, but you don’t want to listen to me,” replied her companion.

Seated opposite her was a beautiful young woman in her early twenties, dressed in a tight-fitting polka dot mermaid hem dress. Her feet were clad in peep-toe black pumps that matched her black and white dress. Long tresses of blonde curly weave tumbled down her shoulders in glorious waves, and she wore subtle makeup that highlighted her best features.

The young woman was Wanda Miti,  Joyce Miti’s youngest and only daughter.

The two were having lunch outside the Michelin-starred Italian restaurant, Casa Esperanza.

On the table were plates of risotto, arugula salad, pea and mint soup, and seared scallops.

Wanda picked up her fork, dug into the plate of creamy chicken and mushroom risotto, brought it to her mouth, and took a bite.

The delicious flavors burst in her mouth and she couldn’t help but let out a moan.

“Mom, this is delicious. You should have a bit.”

Joyce scoffed. She couldn’t care less about the meal or the ambiance of the place.

The delicious aroma wafting from the food was lost on her. The anger coursing through her body was too great for her to care about anything else.

“Do you think with all the problems that shameless and despicable woman is giving me, I am in the mood for food?”

“Well, just get rid of her then.”

Joyce sneered. She reached for her glass of water and chugged it down.

“Just get rid of her – you think I haven’t already tried that? That woman is like a desperate leech. She won’t let go of your brother.”

Looking up from her meal, she cautiously glanced around her. When she was satisfied that the other diners at Casa Esperanza were minding their own business, she lowered her head, and a trace of viciousness flashed in her eyes.

She opened her mouth and uttered the cold words in a low, barely audible voice. “Get rid of her, as in really getting rid of her.”

Joyce was stunned. She was rendered completely speechless.

She blinked at her daughter, unable to reconcile those cold words with the girl sitting before her. Her jaw fell open, but no words came out.

It took a while for her brain and mouth to finally work in coordination.

Joyce stared at her daughter, who now stared back at her calmly.

A short nervous chuckle slipped from her lips.

“Honey, don’t joke like that.”

“Who’s joking?”

Joyce swallowed hard.

She picked up her spoon and scooped a spoonful of the pea and mint soup.

The exquisite flavors exploding in her mouth did not affect her. She might as well have been eating sawdust.

Yes, she hated her son’s nominal wife but resorting  to murder? Wasn’t that going too far?

“Don’t tell me you actually care about her?”

“Of course not,” Joyce snapped.

Ysabelle was the reason her son was miserable and her grandchildren had been born illegitimate.

With the backing of Mwewa, her late husband’s brother, and the rest of the extended family, Ysabelle had become impossibly big-headed. There were times Joyce wished she could wring the damned woman’s neck.

“Well, you could have fooled me,” Wanda commented dryly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You let her carry your brother’s child, for one.”

Joyce sneered disdainfully.

Did they think she wanted to? If it had been up to her alone, she would have dragged that cheap slut by her hair to have an abortion.

God, if she could have, she would have pulled the abomination growing in that womb out with her bare hands.

Nobody but her knew how many times she had almost poisoned her  but the fear of incurring Mwewa’s wrath had always held her back.

She had no idea what that little slut had done to bewitch her late husband’s brothers, but she had no doubt that if anything happened to Ysabelle and her baby, they would suspect her, find her guilty, and throw away the key to her jail cell.

She couldn’t risk that.

“Don’t mess with her,” she warned her daughter half-heartedly.

“If you’re not ready to do anything about her, stop whining already,” Wanda said casually, as though she hadn’t just proposed ending her sister-in-law’s life a few minutes ago.

A restless Joyce aimlessly pushed her fork around her plate of baked shrimp risotto.

She hated her son’s nominal wife, but why her brother-in-law had to insist the woman stay married to her son was beyond her and it filled her with endless resentment.

She stole a glance at her daughter and sighed.

“If she were gone, would that make you happy?” Joyce asked tentatively, fingering the wooden chunky beads at her neck.

She was well aware of where her daughter’s hatred for Ysabelle was coming from.

It all had to do with a boy Wanda had once liked – a boy who had liked that slut Ysabelle instead.

“Will you?” Wanda retorted.

Joyce did not reply. She instead picked up her glass of wine and took a sip.

They ate in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

After a while, her mind made up, Joyce opened her mouth and asked, “What did you have in mind?”

Wanda looked up, the corners of her lips curling as her eyes gleamed with evil intent.

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