An Outrage

♧

Lena herself knew there was a possibility that she could persuade Mr. Lambert for letting his son continue learning in his guitar lessons. Ever since the day Mr. Lambert told her about the news, he declared he would not let his son play anymore. She came to realize the issue could not be erased but it could be solved. Townspeople were drowning everything with assumptions about the boy's youth being squandered away, only because they caught him playing the guitar in a public area.

No one could ever imagine how many relationships break between family and friends all because of this invariable cycle. Now that the gossip was all over the place, it left no scope for the boy to hope and it was harder for Lena to mend her mistake.

In about an hour afterward, when she arrived, her finger pressed the bell and a housekeeper opened the door for her. The woman greeted the newcomer who paused for a moment when she stumbled upon the young lady's beauty. Her striking looks were something many would often notice first. Lena couldn't help it since it was a quality that was considered a blessing even before her blooming years. But the subject never mattered so much since there were other young women in town who even looked much more becoming, classier, and captivating than her. As long as her heart remained beautiful and her duty was under control, her life would be perfectly fine.

"Good afternoon. Is Mr. Lambert here right now? I'd like to speak to him."

"Ah, well he is in his room at the moment, and Mrs. Lambert is free right now. Are you Kenneth's music tutor?"

"Yes. I am Lena Foster. May I come in?"

The housekeeper nodded and ushered her to get inside.

Mrs. Lambert, the buxom woman, lifted her gaze when Lena came into the sitting room. The woman greeted her guest as she fell in her husband's leather chair and rested her feet on the round stool in a queen-like air. "What brings you here on a Saturday, Miss Foster?"

"I'm here to convince you about your son's talent. I do think it's best if he continues the guitar lesson we had."

"You should do the talk with my husband then. In this case, it's none of my business."

"Oh. Is he busy?"

"I'm afraid he is. But we're about to have lunch soon, so he'll be back in a jiffy."

In a jiffy it was, the sound of footsteps was heard upstairs on the balustrade. Pausing from where she stood, Lena stirred her head at once. Her ears followed the mighty steps and the sound was drawing closer towards the sitting room. In a flash, the bulky man stormed inside.

"By God, where the devil is my phone book? It's nowhere to be fou-" Mr. Lambert halted and was baffled when he discovered the young lady in his house. "Wait, what's she doing in here?" he queried in a curt tone and turned to cast down at his wife with a betrayed look.

"Miss Foster is here on a mission," explained his wife complacently, and she sipped down her drink, glass in hand. "She wants our son to chase his dreams, and continue to play the instrument you so despise."

"I don't despise the instrument! I despise the public humiliation she has put us in the spotlight. What do you expect me to react? A regular loony who doesn't give a crap? Of course, I care." snapped Mr. Lambert and he sharply shifted his eyes toward Lena.

"Oh, nonsense. I don't see how blaming the poor woman will ever make it better. Besides, it's not like it's a big deal that could affect your business." Mrs. Lambert absently took another sip from her glass.

"Not a big deal? They bring up my name! Tell me again, how is that not a big deal, Emma?" he thundered and strode everywhere in the room.

"This is just madness!"

"Hush up, love. Now, let's not scare our guest," Mrs. Lambert mirrored Lena's direction. "In the meantime, Miss Foster, you can eat lunch before us. The maids already served our lunch in the dining room. We'll join you soon."

Lena complied and felt that her presence was bothering the married couple. "Oh, alright. Thank you. I am truly sorry if I may have caused any disturbance." and with that being said, she left the room.

There were maids in the dining room, setting up the table, busily serving all sorts of food that were cooked and roasted. Some of them were pouring down the apple ciders into the glasses, settling the fluffy muffins from the oven, and putting a great deal of cranberry pie with sauce on a shiny plate where it brought a scent of crust flying around. The kettle was settled upon the table and serviettes were neatly folded across the flower vase. Lena's eyes wandered before the table when the maids were gone. It was delightful to look over the delicacies placed upon the table cloth. Lena formed a winsome beam when she bent over to see the full view.

But a thought swept over her mind when she realized something.

This seems like it could feed a whole army.

If it was the case, Lena could feed these to her neighbours. She knew the Lambert's wouldn't be able to finish the array of foods. But she wouldn't dare to ask them.

"Ms. Foster?" a voice came from behind.

Lena spun over her shoulder to look at his surprise. The voice belonged to Kenneth and the bronzed face was radiant by the light from the windows beside the patio door.

"Did my father phone you to come over?"

"No-I came here by my own choice."

The boy's hands were now tucked in his pockets. "Why?"

"To get you back on track. I'll have to talk it over with him if I have to."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

Lena sighed. "We'll just have to try. Your father was just mad because his companies are somewhat involved as well. But this will pass and I know it means nothing in the end."

In the room next by the window, there stood the old grandfather clock which echoed a loud ding dong when it struck exactly about twelve in the afternoon. Both of his parents came to join them along, where they were taking each of the foods on the table. Mr. Lambert snapped his fingers and ordered one of the maids to fetch him a table knife while Mrs. Lambert continued to fill her drink. They were seated in the fine chairs and began to relish the delicacies in their stomachs.

"I don't see any point if my son is going to make this as a full-time career. If it's a hobby, that's fine. But lately, this is getting out of hand. Are you really going to wander around the streets imitating those who are below us, Kenneth? Be sensible for crying out loud."

"He comes from a privileged background. He'll take your position and control your companies. What is there to be worried about, love?" Mrs. Lambert leaned back in her chair and held up her glass near her face.

"Everything! I'm worried about his future."

"But sir, it's possible he can do both at the same time," Lena interrupted. "He does have a gift."

"It doesn't look like he wants to do both," he remarked bitterly after examining his son's face. "Anyway, it doesn't matter if he has a gift or not! A man doesn't have the same qualities as a woman when they multitask." Mr. Lambert said as he took a mouthful of the roasted chicken from his plate.

Kenneth was playing his fork in silence, stoic and truly fixed on his food without any cravings or even taking a tidbit of his meal.

Mrs. Lambert gave a low hiccup and waved off her hand. "Forget it. He'll get over it the moment he realize it's not even a worth to chase for. Dreams are hazy. Well, they are never meant to be there." she made a flippant remark which this sort of spectacle caused Kenneth to push back his chair and jerk from his seat. "I'm out."

Mr. Lambert slammed his fist on the table, rather peeved by his son's insolent manner. "Ken, you get right back here! You know your mom ain't sober right now."

Kenneth was on his way to leave the room, ignoring his father's incessant ravings.

This however made Mr. Lambert twitched his right eye and felt infuriated by the teen's rebellious behaviour. He bolted from his chair in a beat of seconds and received nothing but disrespect from his son. "You leave me no choice, Kenneth. From now on, you are not allowed to play the guitar anymore. Worst of all, I will have to sell the guitar myself. How'd ya like that, sonny?"

Kenneth paused from where he stood and turned over.

"It's for you to decide. No one is stopping you, dad." He slipped away from the gathering, feeling glad he was able to shut his father up and left him speechless in the room.