#PartyBoss isn't a term Tulip Carpenter coined herself but she wears it with pride. Her life is a party, she's doing what she loves, creating mindblowing celebrations for the happiest moments in people's lives. But when the baby she put up for adopt...
"Prepare me for what?" Tulip shut the door behind her but it sounded like a slam. It may have been a slam. She was too preoccupied to close the door with care. The loud thud caused a twist of concern to the Governess' round face. "Let's have a seat."
"Yes. Thank-you." Lola's face evened out as she glossed her blue eyes over the African tribal mask hanging in the foyer, the faux bamboo trees in the living room, and decorative vases on the twin bookcases that bordered the TV lined with comic books. "Your house is lovely."
"Thanks," Tulip half-smiled knowing the woman was being nice since a horde of shopping bags cluttered the room.
Lola stopped in front of the bookcase nearest the kitchen and took a long look at the glass framed picture. "Is this you?"
Tulip kept traversing to the dining room table not having to see which picture the woman was referring to. It was the same one that caught every person's eyes that visited her place for the first time. She didn't know if it was the electric blue and neon yellow feathers or the vast amount of taut, oiled deep brown skin she had on display.
"Carnivale. Trinidad. It was a couple of years back." She gestured to one of the chairs at the table. "My homegirl and I are trying to cross all the carnivals off our list, the Caribbean ones at least."
"Nice," Lola said with sparkles in her eyes as she took a seat.
Tulip sat down as well wondering if she was still going to be able to Junkanoo next year. "Yeah. costumes, soca, and sun. What more can a girl ask for?"
Lola blinked quickly with a nod, "I don't know what soca is but it all sounds fascinating."
"It is. So..." Tulip wove her fingers together on her lap as she sat back in the chair. "What is this thing you needed to prepare me for and I also have work in a couple of hours? I don't know all this is going to work?"
She could feel her blood pressure rising which was odd because it was abnormally stable.
"Sidney is a...." Lola promptly stopped and pulled her lips inward. Tulip held her breath for the duration of the pause and if the woman didn't start soon she was going to crash to the floor from lack of air. "Gifted child."
Tulip could breathe easily, now. Being 'gifted' was a good thing. "I thought you were going to say she was a spoiled brat."
"A brat she is not," Lola confirmed with a soft smile. "She is however quite outspoken and her mother was trying to teach her the lesson of softening the blow of her words."
"So, she's a wise ass."
"I wouldn't quite say it like that." Lola slightly recoiled from the ease of which Tulip spoke the three-letter a-word. "She's bright and she knows it and flaunts it well."
"I'm not surprised." She quipped with a chuckle. "She has half of my genes so bluntness is a given. Is that what I need to prepare for?" She glanced down at her wrist, the time she needed to be out of the house was fastly approaching.
"No." Lola's bun didn't budge with the abrupt shake of her head. "Her linguistic preference is."
Tulip's eyes narrowed. She didn't know what that meant. "Is she mute? Do I need to learn ALS?" She shook her head at the confusion on the woman's face. "Shit. I mean ASL. I know a little. I had a client that was deaf so I have a foundation."
She may not know every word in the language but she did know the alphabet.
"She has all her senses. She just chooses to speak french around people she doesn't know." She gently placed her palms on the table as sadness flashed across her eyes. "It's a tic she developed after her mother died. So many unfamiliar people came into her life and as a way and her therapist thinks it's a mechanism she uses to feel close to her mother."
"Her mom was French?"
Lola shook her head, "She entertained many French ex-pats and had a villa in the South of France."
A villa. In France. Damn! How rich was she? Tulip thought about reconsidering her decision not to Google her just to learn the answer but didn't want to open up that can of worms which would lead to overthinking and overanalyzing her professional achievements.
"The only words in French I know are oui, tres, and escargot."
"You can invest in Rosetta Stone or..." The sparkle in Lola's eyes returned. "Get her to be comfortable around you, make it sure to her that you're not going anywhere and you'll be there for her."
"I'm here." Tulip pointed to herself sitting erectly. The woman's face was plain and she couldn't blame her. She had no proof of her dedication since the last time she had the child in her presence she was watching a nurse swaddle her in a blanket to be handed over to the woman from the adoption agency.
"I'll do whatever it takes." Urgency and sincerity dripped on every word. "Speak french. French braid. Hell, I'll even learn how to make bread."
"I hope so." Her pale cheeks tinged with pinkness. "I love that little girl like she was my own little sister. She deserves so—" She stopped putting her hand to her lips getting choked up as mist sheened her eyes. She swallowed hard. "If this doesn't work out the alternative is a very posh boarding school in Switzerland. Where she'll no doubt excel but she'll miss out on what you can give her."
"Which is?
"Love."
Tulip could feel the water swelling in her eyes and quickly blinked them away. "Can I meet her now?"
"Yes." Lola popped up from the seat. "I should introduce you two."
Will Tulip be able to keep her Carnivale plans for next year?
Do you think Tulip is a better option than Boarding School?
Should Tulip Google Amelia King or not?
Have you been to Carnivale? Would you go if you haven't? I've never been but I'd like to go .
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