“That’s a show worth watching,” he says and stands. He moves behind me, bending to pick up my panties. He helps me step into them before pulling them up. “You’ll sleep with my come inside you just so you remember this punishment.” He flips my skirt down and helps me stand, then takes my face between his hands and kisses me hard on my mouth, leaving no doubt that I belong to him.
13
Isabelle
I don’t see Jericho until the next evening. It’s a strange week but this time of year is always hard. It’s almost the anniversary of Christian’s death and this may be the first year I don’t go to his grave on the day. I could ask Jericho to take me. I don’t know why I haven’t.
Saturday is the concert and although I’ve been asking about mail, I’ve been told there wasn’t anything for me. I wonder if Paul changed his mind about me coming because of Jericho. Not that I think Jericho will let me go or want to go himself.
Leontine, Angelique, and I are seated at the table when he walks in, taking off his suit jacket. He hands it and his tie to Catherine who comes around the corner at the same time.
“Evening,” he says. His eyes on me, making me flush, remembering last night.
“Daddy, guess what we did today,” Angelique starts as he rolls up his shirt sleeves—something I can’t seem to look away from. Something that makes my mouth water in anticipation of those hands on me, those eyes on me. Him inside me.
I shake my head. It must be the pregnancy hormones. That or there is something seriously wrong with me.
“Tell me everything,” he says, kissing her on top of her head and hugging her before kissing his mother on top of her head and then getting to me. “I’m famished,” he says when he does. He tilts my head and kisses me on the mouth. It’s not a deep kiss but it’s hungry. Erotic rather than sensual. Dirty. “Sleep well last night?” he asks.
“Fine,” I say, embarrassed. Feeling myself flush.
“Good,” he says and brings his mouth to my ear. “I can still see it you know. See you bent over— ”
I clear my throat, shake him off and busy myself with laying the napkin on my lap.
He grins, takes his seat at the head of the table. “Zeke still in Calgary?” he asks Leontine.
She nods. “He’ll be back in a few days.”
“Good.”
Catherine enters followed by one of her helpers to serve dinner. A roast for them and plain homemade pasta for me. I’ve been less nauseous and haven’t thrown up today. It’s something. But I’m also eating a pretty bland diet.
“Is that enough?” Jericho asks when he sees my plate of pasta with olive oil, salt and pepper. I sprinkle a generous serving of spicy pepper flakes and pick up my fork and knife. “You need protein.” He picks up the grated parmesan cheese and raises his eyebrows.
“A little,” I say, not having tried it yet.
He sprinkles it on then we eat. Angelique and I drinking water out of fancy glasses while he and his mom drink red wine. Angelique proceeds to tell him all about our day. About what she learned in her lessons. About the flowers she collected outside with which she made a sort of bouquet for the table. She also asks about the next story time she will be allowed to go to.
Jericho smiles. “Maybe we can have story time here,” he says. “But tonight, I was hoping Isabelle would play something for us after dinner. What do you think about that Angelique?” he asks her, not me.
“Oh! Yes! That’s a great idea. Belle, maybe you can play the one you did this afternoon,” she says to me then turns to her father. “It’s from a story called Romeo and Juliet, daddy. Romeo and Juliet love each other but they can’t be together because their families hate each other. It’s so sad.”
“Maybe we can stick to the happier fairy tales, Isabelle,” Leontine says to me.
“Romeo and Juliet is closer to reality, don’t you think?” I ask.
“She’s right. Star-crossed lovers it’ll be,” Jericho says as he takes a bite of his food. “How are your lessons with Mrs. Strand?” he asks Angelique.
Her face darkens and she shrugs a shoulder. I walked by her room earlier today when Mrs. Strand was there. Through the door I could hear her raised voice. I almost went inside to see what was going on, but Leontine stopped me, saying Angelique hadn’t done the work she was supposed to do. I didn’t think it was reason enough to raise her voice at the little girl but walked away making a mental note to check on them at the following lesson.
“She’s not nice,” Angelique says.
“Well, not everyone is nice in life,” Leontine tells her. “Why was she angry with you?”
Angelique sets her jaw. She looks just like her father when she does it, except that she’s cute and I have to giggle.
“Those giggles get you in trouble,” Jericho tells me but he’s smiling at her too. I wonder if he sees the resemblance.
Once we’re finished, he turns to me, takes an envelope out of his pocket and sets it on the table. He keeps his fingers on it but makes sure I can read that it’s addressed to me.
“What’s that?” I ask. He pushes it toward me. I take it and open the flap which has already been opened.
“Two. So I won’t get testy,” Jericho says.
“You opened my mail? When did they come?”
“Yes and no idea. They were on my desk.”
“It’s a crime to open someone else’s mail.”
“Are you going to call the police?”
I glare.
He grins.
“Can we go?” I ask him.
“It’s why I’m giving them to you.” I open my mouth, but he puts up a finger. “One stipulation. You play for me tonight. For my family.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“It’s a choice. Choose.”
I’m not sure why I don’t want to play for him. Is it that I want to keep that piece of myself secret from him? Maybe keep control of one part of my life? Or maybe it’s how vulnerable I feel when I play. How it opens me up. And him witnessing that scares me.
“Belle?” Angelique asks when I take too long to answer.
I look up at Jericho who leans toward me. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not.”
“Then play for us and I’ll take you to your concert.”
“Okay.”
He nods and we eat. When we’re finished, he wipes his mouth with his napkin and stands. “Shall we?” he asks, holding out his hand to me, palm up. I slip mine into his.
14
Jericho
The library is alight with candles. There must be more than a hundred of them. I had Catherine set it up this way and place a chair for Isabelle beneath the arched, iron-clad windows where the moon casts an other-worldly light around her.
“Oh. Wow,” Angelique says and I lay my hand on her head. My eyes are on Isabelle who slipped her hand free as soon as we got here, going in ahead of us. She’s wearing a simple white dress and I think I should have put her in a gown. Something soft and flowing and beautiful. Like her.