“Oh, goodness, the heat today,” she says, turning away and walking ahead of us before I can get a read on her.
It’s the last day of August and it’s a hot one. September will bring with it slightly cooler temperatures. I feel a cloud descend at the thought of September. School starts in just a few weeks. But Carlton told me he had unenrolled me. He’d done it sometime during the summer break but hadn’t bothered to mention it, so I only learned about it when I called to check about books and classes. He’d explained that it was no longer necessary. That he was going to find me a match and I’d be married soon. So because this is apparently the middle ages, I wouldn’t need a career. I shake my head at the memory of our conversation but when Carlton has an idea, there’s no talking him out of it.
It was the point of the masquerade ball. Me in that ridiculous feather dress. It was him showing off the goods to potential buyers. I wonder how close he’d come before Jericho St. James upended his plans.
Either way, it does me no good. I have a feeling that for as much as my devil hates Carlton, they’d be aligned in this. It only makes my life a little more miserable and isn’t that what he wants? Isn’t that part of this strange punishment I’m on the receiving end of, even though I don’t know what I’ve done?
A man comes to the door then and clears his throat. “The car is ready, Ma’am.”
“Just a minute,” Leontine tells him and turns to us. “You’re sure you don’t mind watching her, Isabelle?”
“I’d really love it, actually.”
“Good. Catherine is inside if you need anything. There are guards all around.” I’m not sure if that part is said as a warning or to make me feel safe. Although why do they need all this protection?
“Okay,” I say.
“I will be back in a few hours.” She turns to Angelique and crouches down. “You help Isabelle find her way out there and remember, you’re not allowed in the woods, all right?”
“Okay, Nana.” She hugs her grandmother.
I see how tightly Leontine hugs her, almost like she’s not sure she’ll see her again. It’s strange. But then she straightens, says goodbye to me and is gone.
Angelique and I spend the next few hours exploring the garden, picking roses, and reading. We have lunch together inside and I assume she’ll nap afterwards. I’m not sure at what age children stop napping but she doesn’t. Instead, we’re back outside in the heat.
“Shall we explore?” I ask her. “It’ll be cooler under the trees.”
She eyes the cropping of trees warily and turns back to me. “I’m not allowed in the woods. My daddy doesn’t want me to go there without him.”
“Oh.” I remember Leontine’s reminder about the woods then. “Even with me? I’m a grown up.”
She shakes her head.
“That’s okay. Um…” I look back at the sparkling turquoise pool. “How about a swim. Do you like to swim?”
She eyes the pool too and her smile grows huge but quickly dims. “I can’t swim,” she says.
“I can’t remember if I knew how to swim when I was five. But I’m an excellent swimmer and I can teach you if you like?”
“Really?”
I nod. “Really.”
“I’d like that very much.”
“Great! Let’s go get our swimsuits on,” I say, hoping whoever packed my things packed my bathing suit.
I help Angelique with hers first. She has a—surprise—yellow swimsuit with ruffles which she clearly loves. In her bathroom I brush out her hair and tie it into a curly ponytail to keep it out of her face. Then we walk toward my bedroom where I find the glass has been cleaned up. Angelique follows me inside and looks around as I go through the dresser drawers to find a swimsuit.
Some of my things have been unpacked and some of the drawers contain new clothes. I don’t find any of my own suits, but I do see three brand new bikinis. They’re all a little smaller than I’d choose for myself but they’re my size, so I pick a yellow one to match Angelique and slip into the bathroom to change.
When I return, I find her sitting at my desk flipping through one of my notebooks.
“What are these?” she asks, her little finger tracing the notes on a page. “They’re not words.”
“No, they’re music.”
“Music?”
I smile and nod. “I play the violin,” I tell her, pointing to my violin still in its case. I pick it up, set it on the desk and unzip it to show her. “See.”
“Oh.”
She climbs up to stand on the chair and leans toward the instrument. A few moments later, she reaches out a tentative hand to touch the old wood. It’s a used violin and was well-loved when my parents bought it for me years ago. I don’t mind. I love it. In fact, I prefer a used, old violin to a brand new one. I can just imagine how much it was loved before I loved it.
“It’s so pretty. Can I hear you play it Belle? I mean Isabelle.”
“You can call me Belle. I’m used to it.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Thank you, Belle. I’ve never heard the violin,” she says.
“You probably have but don’t know it. I’ll play for you later, okay?”
“I’d like that.” She glances at my bikini and smiles. “I love your bathing suit,” she says. “It’s like mine.”
“We match,” I tell her and pull on my robe. She wears one too. “Sunscreen?” I ask.
She shrugs her shoulders, and we make our way downstairs, still carrying Baby Bear. In the kitchen I find Catherine, the woman who served breakfast. She seems surprised to see us dressed to swim.
“I’m not sure about that,” the older woman says.
“Belle can swim,” Angelique says. “And we’ll be careful.”
“I’ll take good care of her,” I tell the woman. “Please don’t worry. I’m an excellent swimmer. Was even on the swim team throughout high school and a lifeguard at the local pool over summer breaks.”
She seems hesitant but hands us the sunscreen. “All right.”
“Are there any pool toys?” I ask.
She appears confused. “Toys?”
“Um, yes, like floats?”
She shakes her head like it’s the first time she’s ever heard anything like it.
“Well, shall we?” I ask Angelique who smiles wide as we head back out to the pool. She sets Baby Bear on a lounge chair and covers him with her robe.
“You love her, huh?”
She nods. “I’m her mommy. She gets scared when she can’t see me. She thinks I’m leaving and won’t come back.” She turns her face up to mine and I glimpse a sadness that I’m weirdly not surprised to see even though it doesn’t belong to a child her age. But before I can ponder her words, she speaks again. “Do you think we can bring the chair closer to the pool, Isabelle?”
“I think we can definitely do that. We’ll put it under that umbrella, so she has some shade. What do you think?”
“That’s a really good idea.”
Once we get Baby Bear situated and I’ve lathered us both in sunscreen, I take her hand and we take the first step into the swimming pool. When we get to the second, she hesitates, and I look back at her.