Nan bustled in at the sound of all the commotion. “Oh, sweet child!” she exclaimed, seeing the mess covering the two male occupants of the room. “I’ll go draw him a bath.”
Nan disappeared and the sound of water filling the tub began a few seconds later. I dropped the sodden bed linens and took Alex. “Take off your shirt,” I said, “and I’ll throw it in with the sheets.” He unbuttoned two buttons, then pulled his shirt over his head like I had seen soccer players do after scoring a goal.
Nan came to collect Alex just as Julien was dropping his shirt atop the pile of sheets. She paused a fraction of a second before smiling brightly at me. “Ah. Look at that,” she quipped. “A silver lining.” Then she scooped Alex into her arms and headed for the bathroom.
I looked over at a confused Julien and couldn’t contain my giggle.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I believe Nan considers glimpsing your naked torso to be the silver lining of the cloud that is a toddler vomit party.”
He gave a shy half smile, clearly embarrassed by Nan’s appreciation. I mercifully changed the subject. “I must say, I’m impressed. You didn’t even flinch when he puked on you. Does that kind of thing happen to you a lot?”
“Does my son vomit on me frequently? No. That was a first. I can’t say that it ranks among my top favorite ways to spend a morning.”
I smiled at him as I once again collected the dirty laundry. “Still think having another one is a good idea?” I taunted. His expression changed immediately from a sarcastic smirk to introspective. I turned on the ball of my foot and hurried out the door before he could answer.
The sun was setting, turning the sky into beautiful shades of pink and orange. We had anchored off a private island belonging to a friend of Marla’s. When the wind shifted just right we could hear the music from the party in the courtyard of the swanky villa occupying the crest of the hill. Julien and I had decided to enjoy the solitude of the small beach. There were bonfires being lit in the distance, attracting the odd couple here and there, but we were far enough away from the revelers as to feel secluded.
Julien hadn’t said a word about my kissing Marla on deck that afternoon. I was grateful for not having to explain myself, but at the same time it bothered me that he didn’t seem to care. What had happened to the jealous Julien that had claimed me in front of Miles, the foot-rubbing fireman? Was it different because Marla was a woman? Was it different because Julien had been with Marla himself?
“You are so quiet, Chérie. What has stolen your thoughts from me?” Julien nudged playfully against my shoulder.
“Nothing has stolen my thoughts from you. I’m actually thinking about you right now.”
He cocked his head and tried to look into my eyes. “Why am I suddenly wary of your tone?” he asked cautiously.
I was tired of analyzing my relationship with Julien. One minute I believe he feels the same way about me as I do about him, and the next he is watching me kiss his mistress of all people, and doesn’t bat an eye. “How would you feel about my being with another woman?” I asked bluntly. I had caught him completely off guard. He stared at me a bit flabbergasted for a moment, then slowly began to speak.
“...Is that something you think you’d like to try?” he asked seriously. I was relieved he hadn’t tried to make a stereotypical horny guy joke about him being allowed to watch.
“No, not really,” I answered him honestly. “I was just wondering if it would bother you if I did.”
He looked confused.
“It’s just that earlier, with Marla... You didn’t seem to care when I kissed her. But when Miles tried to grope my feet you made it clear to him that I was off limits. I’m just trying to figure you out is all...”
Julien chuckled in relief. “Well, they are two very different things, are they not?” he asked.
“How so?” I was being deliberately dense. I wanted him to explain his reasoning to me.
“Well,” he began, “Forgive me for stating the obvious, but Miles is a man. I like to think that I am capable of providing you with anything you might require or desire of a man. Marla, on the other hand, is a woman.” He shrugged, assuming I understood where he was coming from.
“So,” I said.
He drew a deep breath, clearly agitated that I was going to make him spell it out.
“So, if you are seeking something from a woman, I am ill equipped to help you.” He held my gaze. “You are young, Lara. Now is a time of experimentation and exploration for you. I understand that. I wouldn’t get in the way of that.”
I was getting angry. I didn’t like his willingness to share me as if I were a jacket or a pair of sunglasses - or a call girl. That was the crux of it. His swinging attitude cheapened what we had. But was that really what was making me so upset, or was it that I couldn’t get Marla’s words out of my head? I taught him everything he knows. Each kiss, each caress he uses on your body, he has used before on mine.
“Where were you this morning?”
Julien didn’t insult my intelligence by saying ‘The donut shop.’ Instead he met my gaze over the sheets we were folding and answered me with the information we both knew I wanted to hear. “I went to see Martin.”
My stomach did a little somersault. My fingers tightened on the flat sheet, crumpling it into my suddenly damp fist. “I thought your business stuff was all settled.”
He noticed my grip on the sheet and gently shook it from my hands. “It is. Martin isn’t anything to do with my business rivals. He works for me.”
This was new information. I thought back to the way Julien let Mr. Martin cow him in to staying close to the house. Mr. Martin clearly held a position of authority. “He works for you?” I could hear the disbelief in my voice. “But the ankle tracker... and the way he reprimands you in that weird made-up language you guys speak.”
Julien laughed out right. “He wasn’t reprimanding me so much as relaying information that I found disagreeable at the time.” He snorted again. “And our language isn’t made up. You think we are school boys, making up secret languages and special knocks for our clubhouse?”
I frowned at him, not liking being patronized. “Come now, Chérie. Don’t be cross. I am not laughing at you - you are refreshing.” He kissed my cheek and I gave him a begrudging smile.
“So what did Mr. Martin want?” Even knowing Mr. Martin wasn’t personally threatening Julien didn’t make him any less intimidating a character.
Julien shrugged, trying to look unconcerned, but I didn’t quite buy it. “He wanted to know my plans. How long I intend to stay here and that type of thing.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” I answered. “What did you tell him?”
He gave me his disarming crooked smile. “The same thing I told you, Chérie - as long as you’ll have me.” He pursed his lips in thought. “Or should I say, as long as your grandfather let’s me stay?”
I sighed loudly, reminded of Pops’s dramatic proclamation of earlier. “His heart is in the right place -” I started to defend Pops, but Julien shook his head to stop me.
“I know. I respect the man, Lara. I would be more upset if he didn’t demand to know my intentions toward you and Alex.”
“Well,” I didn’t know what to say. It was all fine and good to hear Julien say that he intended to stick around, but the fact remained that he had a life before coming here - a very fast paced, high powered life judging from the drama I had witnessed in the few days he had been here. “We should probably come up with a more definitive plan, if for no other reason than to put Pops at ease.” I hoped I didn’t sound too pushy or insecure. Pops was right though. I had Alex to think about. I didn’t want to risk him growing attached to Julien and then feeling abandoned were Julien to leave. I didn’t think Julien would desert us, but sometimes things happen that are out of our control. Mystery men demanding ankle tracking devices for one.
Julien was quiet for a moment. He took my hands and sat us down on the sofa, our kne
es just touching.
“I realize I have been a bit of a disruption to your lives Chérie.” I laughed at his understatement, then sobered quickly, chastened by his steady gaze. “There is much to work out yet. Much still undecided. One thing I’d like to clarify-”
“Lara, dear?” Nan paused at the foot of the stairs. “Oh, there you are. Sorry to interrupt. I was thinking you might want to call Dr. Greer. Alex’s fever is back with a vengeance.”
I hopped up and went to grab the phone. If Nan thought a call to the pediatrician was in order, I certainly wasn’t going to argue. Once I had dialed, Nan went back upstairs to be with Alex.
I waited on hold for a bit, then gave the receptionist Alex’s information. “...Yes, Alex Divoll. D-u-v-a-l-l.” She pulled his file and made notes of my concerns, promising the nurse would give me a call back within a half hour. I thanked her and hung up.
Julien had been leaning against the opposite side of the kitchen peninsula from me, listening intently to my conversation with the doctor’s office.
“Did they sound alarmed?” he asked.
“No. The nurse is supposed to call me back, but apparently a stomach bug is going around.”
He relaxed a bit at this information. He looked like he was debating whether or not to say something. It was very unlike him. “What?” I asked.
He rolled his shoulders and straightened from his leaning position. “I hadn’t thought about it before now, but Alex is a Divoll.”
I smiled at him, finding his unease endearing. I had a pretty good idea where this was going. I came around the peninsula and leaned my hip against his side of the counter.
“Of course he is. We had matching bracelets at the hospital and everything.”
Julien pursed his lips and nodded. Then he faced me and said calmly, “I want Alex to have my name.”
My brows shot up. “He does. He is named Alexander for you.” That derailed his train of thought. I could see the new information registering with him. “Really? Even thinking I didn’t want him?”
I shrugged, pushing down old feelings of bitterness at the thought of Julien’s perceived rejection of baby Alex and myself. “He was a part of you. I wanted him to have something from his father.”
We were both silent for a beat. I watched Julien swallow around a lump in his throat.
“That’s a beautiful sentiment Chérie. And bittersweet. Thank you.” I could see his eyes take on a watery sheen, and my own eyes immediately filled in response. Julien looked away. When he turned back to face me he was composed. “And it’s a good start. I want him to have my surname.”
I smiled up at him, causing a tear to escape and trail down my cheek. “I’m not opposed to that, if that’s really important to you.”
He stepped in closer and wiped the moisture from my cheek. We stood a moment, breathing in each other’s air and I was immediately reminded of our earlier lovemaking.
“It is. How do you feel about my surname, Lara?” he asked softly.
I took a shaky breath, my insides roiling with elation that Julien was so eager to claim his son.
“Like I said, I’m fine with adding your last name to Alex’s. You’re already on his birth certificate.”
Julien shook his head. “No, I’m not talking about Alex. I’m asking you how you would feel about taking my surname.”
My heart dropped into my stomach. I looked at him warily. “Are you proposing?”
He seemed surprised with himself. “Hmmm, I always thought I’d be better at this. I’m not being terribly romantic, am I?” He kissed me quickly on the lips and straightened to his full height. His demeanor changed. He smiled mischievously at me. “No. I’m not proposing. I am simply giving you fair warning that a proposal is soon forthcoming, and I want you to be prepared for exactly how you want to word your answer.”
My head was spinning at his rapid change in mood.
“H...how I want to word my answer?” I scowled inwardly at my stutter.
“Sí. Do you want to say a simple ‘yes’, or maybe an enthusiastic ‘nothing would make me happier’. ‘I thought you’d never ask’ would also be well received. But feel free to be creative. As long as the answer is affirmative, I wont care how it’s delivered.” His tone was jovial and light-hearted, but I had caught his quick slip to Italian.
He kissed me then in earnest so that I quite lost myself in the moment.
Five days. Julien had been back in the picture for five days. Marriage? Suddenly my life resembled an antiquated fairy tale. This was all happening so fast. But then, why shouldn’t it? Hadn’t we already wasted the last three and a half years?
I felt as if I had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. The angel was sighing in delight and giddy expectation while the devil was busy pointing out all the things that could go wrong. As I paid attention to them, my mental eye volleying back and forth between the two figures, they started to morph into miniature effigies of Nan and Pops respectively.
I shook my head to clear it and leaned forward against Chester’s strong neck. He didn’t seem to mind. He was used to me treating him like a colossal body pillow. “Come on, boy,” I coaxed. Then I clicked my tongue to get him to pick up his pace. I needed some time to myself to think. I thought a ride might do the trick - I had even taken the time to saddle Chester properly this time.
We made our way along the back of the property line. I was saddened to see the charred corpses of trees beyond the firebreak, blackened and reaching naked toward the skyline as if in agony. I shifted my weight, pushing Chester inward toward my stream. I was so preoccupied with my inner musings that we had already reached the stream before I noticed something was a little off. I couldn’t quite place what was different. I had an eerie feeling, as if I were being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I shivered involuntarily. The birds. They were quiet. That’s what was odd.
Chester’s nostrils flared and he pawed nervously at the ground. I was creeped out enough to decide to head back to the house, but suddenly Chester’s ears perked up and he let out an ear splitting whinny. My heart jumped into my throat and every muscle tightened, responding to the adrenaline flooding my veins and readying me for fight or flight.
“Lara? Is that you?”
Julien’s voice came from behind a stand of oaks and my entire body sagged in relief. I caught sight of some bushes moving, and Julien came into view. “There you are.” He looked as relieved to see me as I was to see him.
“You scared the daylights out of me!” I said. He took hold of Chester’s halter and rubbed the velvet hairs of Chester’s nose. “Désolé, Chérie. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Chester still seemed a little uneasy. He had been startled too, poor thing. He shied away from Julien’s attentions, trying to turn his large body to face the west. I tightened my grip on his reigns in an attempt to still him. “Chester, easy.”
Julien sidestepped Chester’s large hoof before it could accidentally crush his foot. “He must sense my urgency Chérie. I came to find you to bring you home.”
“Why?” I asked, struggling to control the fidgety beast beneath me.
“I got a text from Martin. He said he had an urgent message, and to make sure we were all accounted for. He’s probably waiting for us up at the house by now.”
The next sequence of events happened so rapidly I didn’t have time to process them. I heard a hissing sound, followed instantly by Julien grunting and lurching to the side while Chester simultaneously reared up, catching me completely off guard, and depositing me roughly on the ground. Before I could collect my wits enough to raise myself out of the dry, prickly grass, Julien was covering me with his body.
“Scendere! Stay down Lara!”
I breathed in a mouthful of dirt and started coughing painfully. My hair was in my eyes, and I was still completely disconcerted. Keeping low, and continuing to shield me with his body, Julien managed to drag us behind the cluster of oaks he had come through just seconds before. There was a lar
ge boulder pressing against the tree nearest us. Julien wedged me up against this and draped himself over me. My side was pushing painfully into the unforgiving boulder, and my burning lungs couldn’t seem to calm enough for me to catch my breath. I could feel a warm dampness spreading across my upper back. Before my brain could form the words to question this new sensation, I smelled the distinct coppery tang of blood.
“Julien!” I said between coughs. “You’re bleeding! What’s happening?”
“Shhhh.” He pressed his lips against my ear. “Try to be quiet, Chérie.”
My coughing fit was finally subsiding. I still felt the urge to cough, but my fear was suppressing the spasms vibrating in my diaphragm. I could hear the clicking sounds of Julien sending a text in his pocket. That momentarily distracted me. My brain seemed to shut down certain parts, allowing me to ignore the terrifying confusion unfolding around me, and to focus on how impressive it was that Julien could send a text message without looking at his phone. I idly wondered what his words per minute would be.
My thoughts were interrupted by the crack of bullets hitting the boulder just above our prostrate bodies. I watched in fascination as a small chip of rock landed in slow motion just inches from my face. I didn’t consciously register that I was being shot at. I must have understood that on a subconscious level because my joints turned to jelly and my body seemed to go numb, but consciously, I marveled at the beauty of the different minerals in the chunk of rock glinting in the sun next to my face.
The sun had fully set, and the chill was such that we made our way over to the outer most bonfire. There was a waiter standing just outside of the circle of light, next to a small table that had been set up with flutes of champagne and hors d’oeuvre. Julien exchanged a few amicable words with the man, and the waiter melted away, joining his fellow staff at the other bonfires.
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