by ANDREA SMITH
I scrambled up from the bed and went to my closet. I pulled the other blue velvet jewelry box from the dresser. It was square and smaller. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of this before now. If the larger one had a false bottom perhaps this one did as well.
I pulled out the pillow that had the earrings on them and examined the bottom of the box. There was the same small satin ribbon hoop at the back corner of the bottom. I pulled the ribbon upward and the false bottom lifted up. There was a small plastic bag in there. I pulled it out and there was a key inside of it. There was a post-it note inside the baggie with my mother’s writing on it. It read:
Trinity - Please give Maggie the envelope.
I put the plastic bag back into the box and put the false bottom over it. I put both of the blue velvet jewelry boxes into my carry-on bag. These items were going to Baton Rouge with me. I was determined to get to the bottom of what all of this meant come hell or high bayou water!
CHAPTER 42
Monday evening I got Preston bathed and to bed early so I could finish getting her packed up. I hadn’t started packing for me yet I got her clothes out of her dresser and took them into our master suite. I had our big suitcase out of the closet opened on the bed.
Trey was lounging across the bed watching the Monday night pre-game show. He was watching me as I folded Preston’s clothing and placed it in the suitcase. I went to my closet pulling out jeans, sweaters, and a couple of blouses along with a pair of dress pants. I packed by black Chanel suit just in case there was cause to dress up. I went back in to get some heels and boots to take; then my nightclothes and lingerie.
“Jesus Christ, Tylar, you're coming back to me, aren’t you?”
I smiled as I folded my undies and packed them in the suitcase. I then scooted up to Trey where he was reclined back on the bed, his arm underneath his head. He pulled me down to him his lips capturing mine in a long, languid kiss his free arm wrapped around behind me keeping me locked in his embrace.
I smiled against his lips. “I have to finish packing.”
“I want to make love, baby. We’re going to be apart for several days.”
“My diaphragm isn’t in, sweetie.”
He moaned, releasing me from his grasp. “I thought you were going to see your doctor about using something else?”
“I haven’t had a lot of time in case you hadn’t noticed.”
I finished packing and showered. As I prepared to insert my diaphragm that I'd coated with the spermicidal jelly, I suddenly changed my mind.
Trey and I wanted more children. We were secure in our love and our marriage. We certainly hadn't planned for Preston but when I held her, nurtured her and watched her grow a little bit every day, I realized that we couldn’t have planned any better.
Sometimes the most precious things in life are the result of just letting life happen. For tonight, I decided I'd just let life happen. Whatever to be was to be. The thought excited me. I turned out the bathroom light leaving my diaphragm in its case and climbed into our bed with Trey. The game was on now and he was watching it. I curled up next to him, my fingers lightly tracing the path down his ‘treasure trail’ to underneath the elastic waistband of his boxers.
I gently massaged his manhood and in moments he rose to the occasion. I slipped his boxers down and leaned into him, taking him into my mouth. He was fisting my hair and his breathing deepened as I took the full length of him into my mouth, gently sucking and swirling him from tip to root. He pushed me onto my back and quickly pulled my panties off of me. He lifted my nightie over my head and hovered over me. His lips traced a warm and sensuous path around my nipples; his fingers gently plied them and massaged them. He continued south where his tongue and fingers worked their magic inside the folds of my womanhood. I moaned softly, spreading my legs wanting him inside of me.
“Is that a hint, Tylar?”
Trey smiled as he rose back up and found my lips with his. I felt his hands part my thighs further as he lowered himself into me pressing deeply with his initial thrust.
“Mmmm,” I moaned, wrapping my legs around his hips to draw him in deeper.
I raised my pelvis up to meet his thrusts. He was rolling his hips in a circular motion doing everything I loved. I felt myself quicken with each of this thrusts. I felt so emotional at the moment. I was going to be apart from Trey for the longest period of time that I'd been away from him since he came to Radcliff to confront me when I was pregnant. I wasn’t typically a needy person but it was different for some reason. I was going into the unknown by myself.
He was speeding up his momentum; he moaned and whispered things to me like he always did when we were this intimate.
He told me that I was beautiful and perfect; the same things that my father had told my mother. I pulled his face to mine my hands braced on either side and kissed him passionately, moaning at the pleasure I felt at my core.
“I love you, Trey Michael,” I whispered to him, planting kisses on his lips his face and his neck, “I love you, so very much.”
Our orgasms crashed around us taking us to heights of pleasure that we'd visited before but not quite so perfect as they were right this second in time.
“Umm Tylar, I love you. You're my angel,” he whispered hoarsely against my lips. He moaned softly as his manhood throbbed his love into me over and over again. I clutched him to me as we wound down. We fell asleep curled around each other content in our love and passion.
Trey took Preston and I to the airport the next morning. I'd dressed her in a dark royal blue velvet dress, tights and her black dress coat and matching winter hat. We put her mittens on her hands and had a difficult time getting her to keep them on during the ride to the airport. Trey kept kissing both of us like he'd never see us again. I finally pulled away from him as the monitor said our flight was ready to board and we hadn’t gone through security yet.
“Trey, sweetie, I'll call as soon as we land and cell phones are permitted again.” I laughed, hugging him.
Preston was a good traveler. She curled up and slept in my lap. When we arrived in Baton Rouge there was a man holding a sign that said ‘Tylar Sinclair.’ I wondered if I should be put-out that my father hadn’t come personally to the airport. The man with the sign was his driver apparently. His name was Darryl. He got our luggage into the limo and we started out on the ride to my father’s estate.
Darryl’s words - not mine.
My dad’s estate was about a half an hour from the airport in a rural area. There was a long, winding drive up to the main house that was lined in magnolia trees currently not in bloom. I spotted a barn with a riding arena just past the house. Did my father have horses?
Darryl drove the car up the circular drive to the front of the house. He got out of the limo and opened the door for Preston and me. The large entrance door to my father’s mansion was apparently opened by a couple of workers on his staff. I carried Preston up the concrete steps to the large front porch of this antebellum mansion. There was house staff lined up on the porch to greet us.
A short, black-haired woman with hawkish features stepped forward first. She had thick ankles and a hairdo that looked like it dated back to the 1960’s. I could see the whisker chin hairs that she hadn’t bothered to pluck. I guessed her to be in her mid-sixties. Her dress was black with a crisp white pinafore apron tied around the waist.
“Mrs. Sinclair,” she greeted me stiffly, “I'm Karen Deeny, Judge Tylar’s head of staff here. I'll see to your every need and comfort.”
I actually had chills for some reason. There was no warmth about her whatsoever. She seemed distant and empty. She instructed another servant by the name of Edie to take show us to our suite upstairs. I clutched Preston all that much tighter to me.
Our suite was gorgeous. My room had a lovely ornate canopy bed; the adjoining room was Preston’s nursery outfitted with a dark cherry wood crib, changing table, play suite with all kinds of stuffed animals and Fischer Price toys.
I unpacke
d our suitcase while Preston crawled around on the thick carpet exploring the suite and pulling some of the stuffed animals off of the shelves in her nursery clutching them tightly.
I needed to call Trey since it'd slipped my mind once we'd landed. I got Preston settled in the fenced play suite in her room that had an array of stuffed toys and a princess castle that she could crawl in and out of at her leisure and then gave Trey a call from my cell phone.
“Hi, baby,” he answered after the phone had only rang a couple of times. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, Trey,” I said already missing him. “This place is awesome but I haven’t even seen Dad yet, just a handful of servants. I so wish you were here with me.”
“Baby, I wanted to be there with you but you didn't say a word about wanting me there. I didn’t want to intrude on your time getting to know your father.”
“You've taken off work so much because of me. I just didn’t want you to feel obligated or that I couldn’t handle this by myself. You're a senior partner. You don’t need these kinds of distractions,” I replied.
He gave a heavy sigh, “You're my first priority. Do you want me there?”
“Only if your being here won’t majorly disrupt one of your cases.”
“Then I'll be there first flight I can get out of Atlanta tomorrow okay?”
“Thank you, Trey. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. Give our little ‘Vampira’ a kiss from Daddy, okay?”
“Okay,” I replied smiling. “I'll see you soon.”
There was a knock on the door to our suite shortly after I'd gotten off the phone with Trey. It was Karen announcing Judge Tylar was home and there was tea being served downstairs in his study.
Preston had crawled up to the prune-faced Karen and had placed her hands around the thick tree-trunk ankles of the ‘no-nonsense’ servant.
“I’ve got her,” I said, scooping Preston up in my arms. “Please tell my father that we'll be down shortly.”
“Of course, Mrs. Sinclair,” the servant responded taking her leave.
I quickly freshened up and then gathered my baby into my arms, ready to face the father I'd only seen once in a crowded court room when I'd not been at my best. I looked at Preston adorable in her royal blue velvet dress and tights.
“Showtime,” I said to her, kissing her brow gently.
CHAPTER 43
My father was in the drawing room as Preston and I were escorted there by the frigid midget. I clutched my baby girl close to me.
“Tylar,” my dad said coming to me and embracing me warmly. “Forgive me for not being able to come to the airport but I think you'll be pleased with what I've found out. Is this my grandbaby?”
“Yes, Dad, this is Preston Michaela Sinclair. She's actually seven months old today.”
“May I hold her?”
“Of course,” I smiled.
He held his arms out and Preston immediately gave him her dimpled grin and reached for him. He took her from me talking to her and telling her what a beautiful little girl she was just like her mother.
“Actually Dad, she resembles Trey considerably.”
“Nonsense, daughter,” he replied, “I can see Marley and you in her just as plain as day.”
“By the way, Trey's joining us here tomorrow. I hope that’s okay?”
“Absolutely,” he answered, “I was remiss in not including him in the invitation initially. I presumed he had a busy schedule with his firm.”
“Being a senior partner has its perks, I guess.”
Dad carried Preston over to a birdcage in the corner where a couple of parakeets were chirping and flapping around.
“Preston those are ‘birdies’,” he said annunciating the word, patiently pointing and repeating it several times to her. She spoke some gibberish and then leaned over closer to the cage to get a good look. She became excited as she watched the birds squawk and lift their tail feathers and flutter around the gilded cage. She looked over at me her eyes shining and pointed to the cage. She mumbled something unintelligible, which I could only guess was her word for 'bird.'
“She's quite intelligent,” my father responded.
“Again,” I replied, “she gets that from Trey.”
He looked over at me quizzically; his expression one of surprise. He soon realized that he'd been exposed to some of my dry humor and he smiled.
“Ah yes,” he said, “I recall getting a glimpse of that sense of humor of yours the first time I saw you in court when Mr. Louderdick wouldn’t shut up.”
I chuckled at my dad and the way that he seemed so normal without his judicial robes; not the stodgy judge with the intimidating expression that had glared at the windbag attorney that day.
Just then, Ms. Deeny came into the room carrying a silver tray with an ornate teapot and delicate china cups and saucers. There was a platter in the center with tea biscuits, biscotti and graham crackers. My father motioned for me to sit down in a high back chair. He was still holding Preston in his arms as he sat across from me. Ms. Deeny set the tray on the coffee table between us.
“Will there be anything else, Judge?”
“Not at the moment. Thank you, Ms. Deeny.”
He turned from her dismissively. It almost seemed as if he wasn’t fond of the frigid midget either.
“She’s not very warm and fuzzy is she?” I commented as I poured our tea. I handed him his cup on the saucer.
“That’s an understatement,” my father replied, stirring a sugar cube into his tea. “She was very committed to my wife. She doesn’t like the fact that you represent my infidelity to Olivia while we were engaged. I believe that my wife likely took her into her confidence early on when the ‘negotiations’ were being conducted behind my back between your Uncle Matthew and Olivia.”
My father set his teacup down as Preston squirmed against him spotting the graham crackers on the tray. She recognized the graham crackers. That was one of her favorite snacks. She leaned over toward the tray, her little hand clasping and unclasping as she whined for a cracker.
“Of course, darling, Grandpa will get you a cracker.”
Dad reached for a graham cracker handing it to her; she immediately started chewing on it.
“Dad, she'll have that cracker a soggy mess all over you within a few minutes.”
“That’s not a problem, Tylar,” he laughed. “I want to enjoy all the things that I missed with you.”
I sipped my tea as my father filled me in on what we were going to do the following day. My dad’s P.I. had located Trinity LaFleur. We'd be going to Vidalia to visit her at a pre-arranged time. It was less than a two hour drive. I told him about the key and the note from my mother instructing Trinity to give Maggie an envelope that had been in the other blue velvet jewelry box’s false bottom.
“How strange it is,” he said, “When I gave those to your mother, I'd no clue that the boxes would prove to be more valuable than the jewelry itself.”
“That brings a question to my mind about your gift,” I said.
He looked over at me waiting for me to continue.
“Why give those to my mother? They'd belonged to your grandmother. Wouldn’t you've wanted Olivia to have them?”
“Tylar, for the brief period of time that I had the privilege of knowing Marley, I knew immediately that she was an old soul. The jewelry was old and charming; it doesn’t have significant monetary value, but it was something treasured by me because it was my grandmother’s. She'd raised us after our parents were killed in a boating accident. I was just 5 years-old. The jewelry reminded me of the person that had raised and protected me until I reached adult age. I wanted that for Marley.”
“That brings me to another question. In Mom’s diary notebook it mentions the day that you stopped by her house to give her the jewelry boxes and tell her good-bye. She mentioned that you'd had words with Matthew; she mentioned he stopped threatening her after that.”
“Oh, that,” he replied. “I put the fear
in him. I told him I knew he was running prostitutes including his own sister. I let him know I'd given Marley my protection and that she'd the means of notifying me if he ever tried to put her to work like that again. I led him to believe he was being watched."
“That was kind of brilliant,” I conceded.
His face looked pained. “If only I'd really done it rather than simply alluding to it. She may be alive today.”
My dad was clearly anguished by the thought that he could've or should've done more. But frankly, who'd have thought Matthew was the sociopath it appeared he'd been. How had he managed to stay underneath the radar for all of these years? It appeared Matthew had graduated to much more lucrative schemes. Just then, our quiet reverie was broken by Preston. Her face was smeared with soggy graham cracker crumbs. She was looking over at me saying, “Num-num, num-num.”
She was squirming in Dad’s arms reaching for me. “I’m not sure what it is she requires,” my father said, handing her off to me.
I blushed taking her from him and feeling her fingers tugging at my shirt. “She wants to be fed,” I said. “I still nurse a couple of times each day.”
“Of course, darling,” he said. “Let me give you your privacy unless you would be more comfortable upstairs in your suite.”
I thought about Ms. Deeny, his nosey housekeeper. I truly hoped she wasn't one in the same with the ‘nanny’ he'd told Trey would be at my disposal.
“I think I'll go to the suite and nurse her. She probably needs changing before I put her down for her afternoon nap.”
“Of course. Do you want to rest up as well?”
I actually was tired. The going-away fuckfest that Trey and I'd enjoyed the night before had left me less than rested sleep-wise.
“That sounds wonderful to me, Dad. I think I'll rest with her as well. I'll see you at dinner then.”
“We'll be eating around six. Enjoy your nap.”
I took Preston to our suite and washed her face off and changed her diaper. I set the alarm clock on the nightstand. Preston and I settled back on the ornate canopy bed and fell asleep within minutes. I dreamt of my mother for the first time ever. Reading her notes and being around my father had conjured her up in my subconscious. I could now picture her and what she'd looked like.