He sat next to me. “I’m not an alligator,” he laughed. “What’s your brain thinking about now?”
“Being collared, my lord,” I said.
Panic shadowed his brow. “Second thoughts?”
“No, my lord, no second thoughts, just thinking about what it’ll be like and how things might change for us, for me.”
“What do you want it to be like? Do you wanna do something like Jackson and I did or do you want something more formal? It can be any way you want. And as far as any kind of change,” he sipped his lemonade, “you’ll be able to call me Gregory-Michel or Greg, however you prefer.”
“The rules won’t change, sir?” I asked.
“In essence, everything changed when we pronounced our love for one another.” He leaned against the back of the sofa. “I take love seriously because it doesn’t come often and it’s lost too easily. That part isn’t a game, my love.”
“It isn’t for me, either, sir.” I fell into him and he put his arm around my shoulders.
“Good, then it’s settled. We’ll do something simple and real, Nezzie, just you and me.”
“It sure was pretty down by the water this morning when the sun came up, my lord,” I said, hoping he would get the hint.
“Yeah, it was, but not half as gorgeous as you are. Remember what I said about being here. If you prefer the city, we can go back and stay there,” he said as he set his glass down. “I know you miss all the people.”
“Yes, my lord, but if I wasn’t with you, I’d miss you too much. I’d go to the end of the world to be with you. It doesn’t matter where we are or who is here, as long as we’re together.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He lifted his glass to his luscious mouth. “We’ll see how it goes and decide later what’s best. As it is, we can go and be anywhere, can’t we?”
“I suppose so, sir, but that’s up to you. You’ve got your work, so I guess it’s best to be wherever you need to be for that.”
“With a fax machine, telex, a telephone, and overnight shipping, we can be in Tahiti.” He smiled. “All anyone requires of me these days is a signature anyway. This place almost runs itself with Thomas here, and that’s okay because I have you to contend with.”
“I hope that’s a good thing, sir, because you’ll be stuck with me forever,” I said.
“That’s the best thing anyone has ever said to me, baby. The idea of being stuck with you makes my heart sing.”
I snuggled into his neck and he lay his head on mine.
The phone rang, but he did not move to pick it up. Moments later Thomas came in. “Sir, Mr. Williams is on the line.”
Mr. Delacroix sighed. “All right, thanks, I’ll get it.”
And so it went for another hour or two. He went over papers, signed them, and answered phone calls while Marie played her piano and I picked through Jean-Pierre’s binder. I found his entries to be short, to the point, and very insightful as to his feelings for Monique. He loved her very much and feared he would lose her. His insecurities surprised me considering his stature in the portrait. I suppose every human is insecure at some point.
November 10, 1769: Finally setting course for New Orleans. My Monique awaits. I found a trinket for her yesterday on the docks. A man was selling local figurines made of stone from the interior mountains. It is crude but unusual in its meaning. The man said it is a token of longevity. It occurs to me that the suffering Monique experienced on this island brought her to me, and therefore was necessary. She suffers with humility and grace. The vessel is full to the brim, but with a good southeasterly, our journey should be short.
“Sir,” I said once again.
“Yes, my love?”
“Fifteen hundred in gold back in Jean-Pierre’s day was a small fortune, wasn’t it?”
“Indeed, it was. This is why he sailed with his ship, to make sure his gold was delivered and his inventory adequate. It was difficult to trust people back then.”
“And now, sir?”
“I have my people in foreign ports that do that type of work for me. It’s a small world now, Nez; easier to trust people because it is a helluva lot easier to hunt them down if they fuck you over.”
His voice was stern and cold. The notion of him hunting people down made a chill run down my spine. His tone was so flippant, as if this happened regularly. I wondered what really happened to Steve and his friend that day they were escorted from Jackson Square.
I tried to sound as if his words did not bother me. “I see, sir.”
“Back in those days, there were pirates and all kinds of backstabbers. Jean-Pierre was very adept at looking after his assets. My family always has been out of necessity. We’re good at protecting what belongs to us.”
“Of course you are, sir.” I buried my head in the book again.
“You’re my most valuable asset.” He looked as if he were going to say something and then his phone rang. I listened to his conversation while I pretended to read.
“No, I won’t make it this week, but I’ll be in the office Monday morning. Send the courier and Thomas will have the packet for him to bring back. Everything’s in order and ready to go with both deals. The revisions look good. If you get it out by this afternoon, we should be ahead of schedule. . . . Nope, I won’t be available after lunch today or all day tomorrow. No, he won’t be back for a while, not sure when. . . . Yeah, I know. He decided to take a leave of absence, a little hiatus, much needed, I think. . . . She’s fine. We’re all good. . . . I’m not sure. We’re gonna see how it goes, but I’m doing some work on the place. . . . Yeah, it’ll be ready to go within the hour, so your man can leave anytime. I won’t be available, but Thomas will have the packet sealed and ready. Thanks, talk soon,” he said, and hung up.
There was a knock at the door. “Entrer,” Mr. Delacroix said.
“Sir, Girl has arrived,” Thomas said when he entered. “Shall I show her to the parlor?”
“Is Marie there?” Mr. Delacroix asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then show Girl to the parlor. Miss Nez and I will join them momentarily.”
“Lunch will be served in about a half hour, sir.”
“Thank you. Bring her bags up to Marie’s new rooms. She’ll be staying there.”
“Yes, sir.” The large door closed with a small click.
He took my hand and led me out of the library into the foyer. I stopped to look at Jean-Pierre’s portrait again and reflected on his devotion to Monique. I marveled how it was that I ended up here in this family.
“Mr. Delacroix!” Girl’s voice was flowery and serene. She came to him with her arms open. She was almost as tall as he was, with flowing, wavy red hair pulled back in a loose braid. She had bright green eyes and milky skin. Like Marie and I, she wore no makeup. Her dress was long and fell in soft waves of cotton gauze, transparent in all the right places. Her shoes were leather sandals, flat and strappy up her ankles.
“Girl, it’s always great to see you.” He held her long and hard. That ugly twinge of jealousy coursed through me. She did not seem as old as Mr. Delacroix had made me think.
“I’m glad to be here for you, my dear monsieur.” She smiled and looked in my direction. “Neige Blanche, Mr. Ladnier told me you were beautiful, but I had no idea. Please, call me Girl.” She held out her arms and held me for longer than I expected. My jealousy abated.
She sat in a cloud of patchouli scent. “We’ve been waiting for you to come along for quite a while. We’ve all been in an altered state since James died, may the universe caress his soul.” She closed her eyes in reflection. “It’s like the whole universe freaked out and we lost our balance, but I feel everything coming back into synchronicity now, don’t you?” She looked at Mr. Delacroix.
“Absolutely,” he agreed, placing his hand on my leg.
“Now, if we can just get M
arie-Louise’s energy back in line, we’ll be ready for the rest of the journey.” She smiled and put her arm around Marie, who snuggled in like a child. “Neige, are you into yoga?”
“No, I’ve never tried it, but Mr. Delacroix says it might be a good idea.”
“It’s an excellent idea. We’ll have to get you started, but Marie tells me you’re leaving to go back to the city soon.”
“Yes, Friday, I believe, after we . . .” I was at a loss.
“After I collar you, my dear,” Mr. Delacroix said.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
Girl leaned over and kissed Marie’s head. “Would you like to help me make a flower garland for Neige? I noticed the wildflowers blooming along the road, the little white ones. They’d be perfect.”
“I’d love to,” Marie said excitedly.
“I wish I had known you were going to collar her, Mr. Delacroix. I’d have made a dress and brought a little something for the two of you.”
“I don’t think she’ll need a dress,” he said with a smile.
“Oh, I love that. Clothes are overrated. Any idea on the ceremony?”
“I have one or two,” he said. “We’ve decided on a private affair, just me and her.”
“How sweet.”
“Next month when everyone’s here, we’ll have a celebration. It’ll be Nezzie’s birthday, too,” he said, beaming. I felt proud to belong to him.
“This is such fantastic news. I can’t wait. It’ll be a grand party. I know everyone will come. Oh my god, what a rush.” Girl leaned back and laughed. “Marie, you can be my date.”
“I’d like that,” Marie said.
“Will you come back to Twisted Oak full-time?” Girl asked.
“We’re gonna figure that out as we go, but we’ll be here more often, I suppose,” Mr. Delacroix said.
Girl got up and walked over to the roses on the service table. “It’s not like the city, is it, Neige?”
“No, not at all,” I agreed.
“And New Orleans is such a great spot. You have everything there. It’s not like Baton Rouge.”
“Aren’t you happy in Baton Rouge?” Mr. Delacroix asked.
“Mr. Delacroix, don’t get me wrong. Mr. Ladnier, as you know, is a lovely man. He provides every comfort. But my darling, men his age are so droll. He’s become a workaholic, flying off to god knows where all the time, chasing this case and that.” She waved her hand as if a fly were buzzing about. “It’s refreshing to spend some time out here with Marie.”
“It’s the nature of the beast, Girl. Our work is part of who we are,” Mr. Delacroix said.
“Oh, I know, and he was like this even when he was young. I just wonder sometimes if he wouldn’t be happier in a simpler life. But then again, he wasn’t designed for simplicity, was he?” She smiled and turned around. “None of you are.”
“I suppose not,” Mr. Delacroix agreed, “but you are, and this is why we all love you so much.”
“That’s me, Simple Simon,” she sighed and turned to Marie. “Speaking of simplifying things, Marie, you’ve got an exciting time ahead of you.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Marie said.
“You’re gonna be your own woman, just like me,” Girl said with a smile. “You’ll be the master of your own destiny.”
“I guess so,” Marie said as if the idea of divorce was just now sinking in.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it and you’ll grow to love it.” She came back to sit next to Marie. “And who knows? You may find a new man, but you don’t need a man. You’ve got a lot to offer on your own.”
“I agree,” Mr. Delacroix said, “but all in good time.”
“Yeah, let’s not rush things,” Girl said. “Speaking of rushing things, I’m hungry. I didn’t have much time for breakfast this morning.”
“Thomas said lunch will be served soon,” I said. “Mr. Delacroix says you’re a vegetarian?”
“I have been for years. My adopted parents were farmers and I hated to see the animals butchered. I can get sustenance without killing,” she said with a shrug.
“She’s also a Buddhist,” Mr. Delacroix added.
“Yeah, so I don’t think it’s good for our journey, our karma, to kill anything on purpose,” she said. “Certainly if we don’t have to.”
“I’ve never met a Buddhist or a vegetarian,” I said.
“You get both in one shot with me,” she said with a smile. “They kinda go hand in hand.”
“Do your parents still live in California?” I asked.
“My adoptive parents are still there, yes.”
Thomas entered and cleared his throat. “Lunch is served on the veranda.”
“Thank god,” Girl said. “I’m famished, and your chef, Mr. Delacroix, makes the best food. It’s part of the reason I look forward to coming here so much.”
“Thanks, Girl. Thomas, make sure you let Chef know he’s appreciated.”
“So anyway,” Girl continued as we walked through the foyer and into the library, “my biological parents were migrant farm workers like my grandparents who went to Cali from Nebraska during the Dust Bowl. I was born in an artichoke field,” she giggled. “Anyhow, as you can see, someone who looks like me isn’t very fit for farm work. Apparently, I was always sick as a baby; allergic to this and allergic to that and breaking out in rashes and god knows what else. I don’t know how I got this skin and hair. My biological mother isn’t fair and my dad is Mexican. Must be some kind of recessive gene or some farm supervisor got hold of my mother, god only knows.” She waved at that imaginary fly again.
“If she looks anything like you,” Mr. Delacroix chimed in, “who could blame him?”
“Well, thank you, sir,” she said.
We went through the dining room and out onto the veranda. Thomas had set the table under the shade of the second-floor overhang.
“I kept us in the shade,” Mr. Delacroix said. “Nezzie has sensitive skin too.”
“I can see that,” Girl said, and sat with her back to the house. “So anyway,” she continued, “eventually the landowner and his wife took pity on me and adopted me. I was small. I don’t really remember being out in the fields, and my upbringing was very privileged. I went to the best schools and had a great childhood out there. I can’t imagine where I’d be now if my mother hadn’t agreed to give me up.”
“Funny how one decision can change so many lives,” I said. “So, how did you meet Mr. Ladnier?”
“I met him at Berkeley. I was poli-sci and he was prelaw,” she giggled. “He was so handsome.”
“So you were a student while you were hooked up with the doctor?” Mr. Delacroix asked as Thomas laid out a plate of warm French bread.
“Yeah, I met the doctor at a sit-in. I guess you can say I became a disciple, but not like Charles Manson,” she laughed. “God, everybody was crazy back then. I left campus and went to live with him and his people, but I had such a crush on Mr. Ladnier. The doctor couldn’t break me of it, so he sent me out to get Mr. Ladnier to live with us. We had a fun time for those few years, and then when Mr. Ladnier graduated, he asked me to get real and come out here with him. The rest is history.”
“Nezzie,” Mr. Delacroix added, “Girl and Mr. Ladnier have been together all these years, but neither has collared the other.” He turned to Girl and said, “I know how her mind works, so I thought I’d answer those questions for you.”
“Mr. Delacroix, as we practice the art of mindfulness, it’s worthy to note that the minds of others are rarely known or controlled, not unless we intend to bring suffering upon ourselves and others.” Her tone was grave. “If Neige Blanche has a question, she may ask.”
I was astonished at her ability to correct Mr. Delacroix without seeming to overstep her boundaries. It was clear that he respected her opinion, but his silenc
e was notable and ripe with angst. Girl did not give him time to react and I realized her visit might be good for the both of us. She addressed me next.
“Neige, marriage was never in the cards for me; not with Mr. Ladnier or anyone else. I’m just not the marrying type. Babies weren’t for me either. God knows Mr. Ladnier wanted to marry, but I declined. I’ve never been collared either, not even by the doctor. I guess I have commitment issues,” she giggled. “Mr. Ladnier and I are best friends to the end. He has his life and I have mine.”
“An independent spirit, as I said, Nezzie,” Mr. Delacroix added.
“Yes, Mr. Delacroix, I’m very much on my own spiritual journey,” she smiled. “We all are. I spent quite a bit of time in India last year, Neige. If I were tied down, those experiences would never happen for me.”
“I see,” I said. “So you belong to Mr. Ladnier?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes, but he also belongs to me. When I came here, he promised to look after me and I promised to look after him. We have our agreement. He and I will always be part of each other’s lives. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the man and I know he feels the same about me. I love him as you love your Ty. He was so kind to me and came into my life just when I needed him. My darling, there are no coincidences. We are all here together for a reason.”
“So,” Marie began, “all the things I’ve been through happened for a reason?” She looked at Girl with those round child’s eyes.
“That’s right, Marie. Our suffering is our growth. There is no growth without pain, my love. We hurt, therefore we live, and when we stop living to shut out the pain, we stop growing. Living in and of itself is an incredible act of courage.”
“I never thought of it that way,” I said.
“But it’s true when you really think about it, isn’t it?” Girl asked me. She was almost frightening in her cosmic frankness. “Do you really see Mr. Delacroix as just a happy coincidence? I think this is much more. Our paths bring us terrible suffering and incredible bliss. Follow it. Don’t shy away from it. It’s presented to you for a reason, the good and the bad. Marie, that goes especially for you, my dear one.”
Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey Page 43