26

Chapter 26

I was stirred from sleep by the sound of a phone ringing. Apparently, I had fallen asleep beside Richard. I opened my eyes to see him staring at his phone, clearly torn about whether to answer it.

"It's Mr. Finley," he said, naming their lawyer and close family friend.

"Do you want me to answer it?" I suggested, sensing his hesitation. I knew he might be too anxious to handle the call himself.

He handed me the phone, and I took a deep breath before answering it.

"Hello? This is Carlton speaking."

"Carl, is Richard there?"

"Yes, he's right here," I said, glancing at Richard, who was nervously biting his thumb. "I can take a message."

"Good. Tell him not to worry. We found them. They're all safe and well."

"You mean Mr. and Mrs. Preston?" I clarified, watching Richard's eyes widen with hope.

"Yes!" Mr. Finley's voice was filled with glee. "Rescuers found them on a nearby island. They're being brought back home for treatment."

A wave of relief washed over me. "That's wonderful news!"

"Could I speak to Richard now, please?" Mr. Finley requested.

"Of course," I replied, wrapping Richard in a comforting hug.

"They're okay," I whispered to him before handing back the phone. "Mr. Finley wants to talk to you."

I stepped out of the room to give them privacy and turned on the TV. The news was covering the rescue live. The reports said that all the passengers and crew got onto a lifeboat. Even though it was damaged, they floated around until they found a small island where they waited to be rescued.

Richard is fortunate to still have time with his parents, and I'm genuinely happy for him.

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The next day, the Preston family happily reunited at home. Richard's parents were lucky to have no serious injuries and were quickly discharged to rest in their own house. As for me, I returned to my role as the house butler, waiting for further instructions about my duties.

I received a lot of calls for the entire week, filtering out the important ones that Mr. Preston would like to take. As for Richard, he still continued to go to work without me and we barely see each other except when I serve them breakfast and dinner.

While I was doing the dishes, the doorbell rang, interrupting my work.

"It's you! Nice to see you again!" Mr. Young greeted me with a smile. "Wow! You really are a butler."

"Nice to see you too, Mr. Young. How can I assist you today?" I replied.

"I'm here to visit my old friend Nathan."

"Of course," I said, opening the door for him.

"By the way, I didn't catch your name last time. What is it?"

"My name is Carlton. But you can call me Carl."

"Carlton. Interesting..."

"Quite fitting for a butler's name, don't you think?"

Mr. Young laughed. "Now that you mention it, I can see it. It's a shame—it was actually one of the names I had planned if I had a boy. I guess I'll have to go with the alternative."

We had an interesting small talk while I lead him to Mr. Preston's office then returned to my chores. Shortly after, someone was at the door again. It was a representative from the museum with the artworks that we had successfully bid on.

Two packages came today. One for me and one for Richard. The artwork was wrapped in manila paper and bubble wrap, so I couldn't see what Richard had purchased. I texted him to ask where he wanted his painting and he replied to leave it in his room for the meantime.

I signed the documents on his behalf and wished the delivery man a good day. I moved the painting to his room without any struggle since it is not larger than my torso. Speaking about my painting though, I wasn't sure how to get in on my room since it was rectangular and heavier with the frame. I attempted to move it to my room, struggling with its weight.

"Do you need any help?"Mr. Young offered when he saw me wrestling with the artwork. I only managed to move it a few feet away from the door.

"No it's fine." I declined, waving him off. "Are you done speaking with Mr. Preston?" I asked trying to sound casual.

"Yes. I can't believe that bastard survived. Such a lucky guy."

"Have a good day. I'll show you out."

"Let me help before you hurt yourself," Mr. Young insisted, noticing my struggle.

"No, really, it's fine," I said. "I can call someone if I need help."

"Well, I'm here anyway. What's the issue?"

"Okay," I agreed, wanting to avoid any awkwardness. Mr. Young took one side of the frame while I managed the other. Having two people made it much easier. We carefully carried the painting to my room and set it down gently.

"Thanks for the help," I said, genuinely grateful. "I really appreciate it and so sorry for the trouble."

"No problem at all. Is that from the fundraising event?" he asked, glancing at the painting.

"Actually, yes. I can't believe I won the bid, considering it wasn't a significant amount."

"So what's the painting of?"

"Do you remember the one with the black cat?" I asked.

"Yes, I remember it. Interesting choice."

"I know it's the least serious painting from the gala, but I liked it because it reminds me of my pet," I explained.

I looked around the room to check for Misty and I found her sitting on her cat bed.

"Misty, come here," I called. She stretched and hopped toward us, but in her excitement, she knocked over a framed photo on the bedside table.

"Don't worry, I'll get it," Mr. Young said, quickly picking up the photo. Misty nuzzled affectionately against my leg.

"I see what you mean," Mr. Young said, placing the photo back to its original place. "It does look like her." He then noticed the photo in the frame. "Is this you?" he asked, seeing a picture of me with my mother from when I was a child. It's the only memento I have left of her.

"Yes," I replied. "and that's my mother beside me."

"She's lovely. I can see where you got your looks from—you resemble her a lot," Mr. Young said with a smile.

"Yeah, she was," I said quietly, feeling a twinge of sadness. Talking about her always makes me miss her more. "Thanks again for your help. I'll show you to the door."

I accompanied Mr. Young to the door and wished him to enjoy the remaining of the day.

"If you ever think about changing careers, just let me know. I already have a spot for you." he said with a chuckle as he left.

I laughed and said "I'll think about it."

The rest of the day went smoothly. After dinner, Mr. Preston called Richard and me into his office. It felt familiar, like when his father called us for a meeting before they left for their trip. Richard and I took our seats, and he gazed out the window, as if he already knows what the meeting was about.

"Carlton," Mr. Preston began, "I want to thank you for your help in keeping things in order while I was away. I can't thank you enough for your support for my son especially during his transition to the corporate world. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed."

"Glad I could help," I replied.

Mr. Preston then turned to son. "Richard, I know it wasn't easy handling things without much guidance, but I've heard you did an excellent job. I'm very proud of you."

"I did what I could, and Carlton here was a great support," Richard said, glancing at me. I felt a bit flustered and looked away.

"Don't worry, son. I'm back now and will personally guide you on managing the business. Carlton, you'll resume your position as the full-time head butler here at the manor. You have the rest of the day to collect your belongings from the office."

I had expected this, but still, I felt a bit deflated.

"Thank you sir." I replied.

"That will be all," Mr. Preston said, dismissing Richard. "Richard, you may go now. Carlton, I need to speak with you briefly before you leave."

Richard left the room, his demeanor serious, while I remained seated.

"Have you opened the envelope I left for you?" Mr. Preston asked.

I shook my head. "No, sir. I felt it wasn't the right time." Mr. Preston had instructed me to open an envelope only if something happened to him. It was sealed and stored in one of his drawers.

"I-" Mr. Preston paused for a minute as if he was gathering his thoughts. "Nevermind. Everything seems to be in order. Thanks again for your help."

I left the room with the impression that Mr. Preston had more to say but chose not to. But what could I know? I'm just the head butler.