Part III
Kitchen Talks

It was early in the morning, the roosters marking the time with their cackling call. Outside the sun peeped up the east making its way with gilded and warm fingers through the white veil of fog that rested above the cane plantations. Josefina woke up to the smell of brewing coffee and soon discovered she was alone in bed.

A soft tapping on the bedroom's door scampered away the first question mumbling inside her head. Where was her husband? Maybe he was the one knocking.

A pair of big brown eyes gleamed merrily to the mistress. It was Domitila, the stewards wife who opened carefully and walked in, a tray with food in hands. "Good morning doñita. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Good, thank you Domitila. Do you know where's my husband?"

"Don Ramon woke up early in the morning. The storm flooded the stables and, since the slaves were granted the day off for the wedding, some of the molasses barrels in the shed got ruined by the rain." The mestizo woman, dressed in a white creole cotton dress and wearing a light beige head wrap, placed the tray over a console table, while she kept talking. After rolling up the curtains and opening the windows to let the sea breeze and the morning sun in, she looked in a huge cedar armoire a cotton embroidered gown. Domitila's thick lips crooked up a mischievous smile while giving the light robe to the mistress.

"Oh... yes. I need to get dressed." Josefina flushed to remember she was still naked.

"Ha, ha, ha! How soon the doñita got used to have no clothes on. That's fine, a man loves boldness in his woman." The woman laughed, her big breasts bouncing at every chuckle.

Josefina got up from bed, put the light gown on and washed her face. "I would like to have breakfast in the kitchen.", the young mistress told the maidservant.

"I'm not sure the master would approve that. You're his wife now."

"No worries, I'll tell him it was his fault for leaving me alone." Josefina gave the stewards wife a smirk, and the servant left the room, taking the tray with hers.

After washing herself and dressing up appropriately, Josefina headed to the rear wing of the manor. Attached to the main building, the kitchen was a separate squared room built up in clay and masonry. There, the food was stocked, and a huge rustic picnic style table and benches served as the dining room for the servants working solely in the house and the fields foreman.

Inside, the women whisked the white rice cooking up in a huge iron pot on the fire-wood burner. When the mistress stepped in, the servants hushed to clean up while greeting her.

"Good morning everyone", she replied, her lips curving up sincerely. "I only come to have breakfast here. I hate to eat alone... where's Domitila?"

"She went to the barracks to assist the midwife, Casilda is in labor and it's her first baby." One of the servants, looking even younger than seventeen years old Josefina, answered, in the way she approached to the table and set a cup of steaming coffee.

"Oh, let's pray she can make it... once the creature is born send message to Padre Pietri for the baptism to be performed", the young brunette smelled the dark brew first, and then sipped it slowly, savoring the finest and warm drink. "And the master, have you seen him María?"

"Don Ramon is on the sheds, revising the processed sugar and the molasses... It was quite a storm last night and well, the master doesn't look happy today."

"I can see... he left me alone even after...— Josefina hesitated for a moment, her lips tensed and twitched before resuming—...María, last night it happened something so weird. While my husband and I were... umh, you know, in bed, I saw someone in my room. A woman... well it was more like a... I don't know. Her face, besides being appalled and somehow decayed, was the face of someone young. She was blonde, blue wide-opened eyes—

In the back, one of the servants dropped the clay pot with fresh green beans in it. The pot broke, pieces of clay and vegetables scattered everywhere. Without saying a word and without looking up, the woman cleaned up the mess, her hands shaking. The maidens in the kitchen muted, exchanging pry looks, their bronzed skinned faces changing colors.