What Has Fallen

3. Charlette

September 15th

11 AM

"Good morning Ms. Westford." Mary, my father's elderly housekeeper, welcomed me into my fathers office.

I gave no welcome exchange, but instead pointed out, "We will see." I made my way to one of the leather sofa seats my father had in the middle of his office. The elderly woman's shriveled eyes became sad; the weakness of not being able to handle a true expression instead of a forced happy one. I wrinkled my nose and with a toss of my hand I sent Mary to look for my little sisters, "Mary," she jumped, "find my sisters. They should have arrived by now." My little sisters, always late to everything.

"Yes, Ms. Westford."

I watched as the pitiful old lady made her way out of the room and I called out, "And where is my Father?"

Twenty minutes later my father entered the room, nothing out of the ordinary there. I greeted him as always, a kiss on each cheek and a light hug. "Oh, Father, looking dapper as ever," I looked over his French made all white suit. My father, the man who always showed me you can never over dress for any occasion.

"Ah, mwah mwah," he kissed me on each cheek, "My lovely Charlotte, always so good to see you." He paused and looked around the room, "And where are your sisters?" His eyes not filled with anger -as I'm sure mine looked- but instead filled with only curiosity. My father's sheer ability to look over every infraction my little sisters make is undeniably sickening.

I sighed and played a smile to my lips, "Who knows Father. Their tardiness is learned from you." I lightly chuckled to let him know my comment should be taken as a joke, even if it is the absolute truth.

"Ha, ha, a funny one you are my Charlotte," he played, his voice raspy with age. He smiled, "Ah well," then made his way to his large seat behind the old oak desk.

I looked at my dear, old Father; so taken advantage of by my bratty little sisters. Suddenly an overwhelming amount of rage boiled my blood. When our father calls meetings, it should be their highest concern. They are adults and should respect our father enough to get here on time. I made my way back to the leather sofa seat counting backward from ten. Once calm, I asked, "Father," he sat up straight, "Shall we start without them?"

I knew this question is pointless. No matter how many times I ask, no matter my attempts to present the ways my sisters are unnecessary, his answer never changed, "No. Absolutely not." I stayed silent as he began to rummage through his desk. I crossed my legs, leaned back in the chair and waited for my little sisters to show.

After ten minutes Mary came in. My father looked up from his papers as she stopped in the middle of the room. She didn't even knock, didn't call out she'd be coming in. My father's private office and she didn't even knock. "Really Mary?" the woman looked taken back by my disbelief. She looked confused as if she didn't realize her mistake. "Do you know how to knock? Do you know how rude," I paused to correct, "how disrespectful it is to just barge into someone's private office? Not to mention your boss' private office. Mary..."

"That's enough. Calm down Charlotte," My father said calmly. I never understood the phrase 'calm down'. Especially when said to me. I never raise my voice, sometimes I may lash out, but never in an angry or vicious way. I always watch my tone, I am a lady and have no need for childish rage to be shown.

I watched the way my father and this woman looked at each other. I didn't know what to make of it. My father smiled warmly at Mary, "Mary, what is it you need?"

"I came to inform you, Olive and Alice have arrived," as she informed us, we heard talking form the hall.

"Seriously relax," from the childish and high pitched tone I could tell Little Olive spoke with a hangover.