Scotia's Grave

by T L Harty

  “I’m going to leave you to explore your new living quarters and if you want anything changed, please let me know, so I can have it done at once,” Clio said. “Enjoy your first evening in your new home.”

  She unlatched the door, motioning for Sean to lock the door behind her. Sean dutifully nodded, doing as he was told, once Clio left.

  “Home,” I said out loud.

  Making my way through the seating areas, I ran my hand over the different textures. The colors were beautifully styled with a mix of leather and fabric elements. There were a few small tables and a couple larger ones for visiting or playing games.

  The space seemed huge compared to before. That’s when I noticed there were no stairs going up to the bedroom. A large pole now took up the space where the stairs once began. It supported a balcony-style half-wall up above.

  “How do I get up there?” I asked Sean.

  “I can give you a tour,” he said. “All of us have had extensive training on your quarters.”

  I huffed at the thought of tours in my living quarters. “Yes, please. Show me around.”

  “Clio showed you the door.”

  “Yes and I hope that’s not the best part of the tour. You need to do better than that, Sean.”

  His expression turned nervous.

  “I’m joking,” I assured him. “Please relax.”

  He took a deep breath and exhaled, the pressure alleviated.

  “The designers and builders worked feverishly to get this done in time,” Sean began. “The wainscoting is a beautiful walnut wood that wraps around the room. The desk and bookshelves are made of the same wood, tying in the two elements.”

  Sean’s detail was too thorough, but in fear of making him nervous again, I pretended to be hanging on his every word. There were times my ears perked up, like when he explained that the tabletops and sconces were made of Connemara marble, which could be found exclusively on the west coast of Ireland. He called it the Irish gemstone.

  We meandered under the bedroom area and it occurred to me why the main room seemed so much larger. While Sean showed me the elevator to get upstairs, I noticed the closet room between the bathroom and the main room no longer existed.

  “Sean, would you excuse me, I have to use the restroom.”

  The bathroom door had the same locking mechanism as the front door, but I latched it without engaging the wheel. The bathroom had been completely renovated. The floors and open shower area were designed with a beautiful shale-type stone in rich brown and tan colors. It was still a large area but, now, a ceiling overhead and a wall cut the bathroom in half. The changes made the bathroom cozy and the ceiling still reached over ten feet high.

  After using the restroom, I opened the door where a vigilant Sean waited. He entered the bathroom, continuing his tour.

  “The bathroom has been completely revamped. Over here,” he said, as he walked to the door of the smaller room, “is your changing area.”

  He opened the door and my mouth dropped. Mirrors circled most of the room, while a chandelier illuminated the entire space. I imagined natural lighting would stream in from the windows during the day. A large seating area in the middle boasted beautiful white fabric adorned with small blue and yellow flowers. The shelving and closet area lined the wall that separated this room from the bathroom.

  “This is another elevator to your closet area upstairs,” Sean pointed out.

  The entrance to the dressing room was on the far side of the bathroom, almost to the outer wall and the elevator stood opposite that door. There were no visible buttons.

  “How does this work?” I asked.

  “You place your hand anywhere on the door of the elevator and it will open. It recognizes only your hand.”

  I put my hand on it and the door slid open. After entering the elevator, I turned around, asking if Sean would be getting in. His expression changed and he told me that the second floor was strictly forbidden, unless by the queen’s specific invitation. Hmm. What did that mean? Sean was an amazing specimen of a man, but there would be no rides of any kind for him tonight.

  “I see. How do I close the elevator door?”

  “By touching the wall anywhere.”

  The door shut and the elevator quickly brought me upstairs. Stepping out of the elevator, this room was also unrecognizable to me. The work completed in such a short amount of time seemed impossible.

  The bed’s headboard no longer sat against the outside wall, but on the half wall on the other side of the room. A fire place had been built on the outside wall and instead of a mantle or pictures, there were windows that started at the floor and traveled about 8 feet upward. My artwork would be the changing canvas of Danu’s landscape…trees, water, mountains. I couldn’t wait to see the view in the morning, but the stars were quite the sight this evening. The lush carpeting bore an odd, deep-green color, making it seem like lush, meadow grass.

  The room had little else in it except for the bed and I found the minimalism refreshing. A bedroom with a bed, nothing more. Looking back toward the elevator, a large opening to the right had another area to explore.

  This room stood over the entire bathroom downstairs and it did not disappoint. A small, half-bath had been built right off the bedroom, which would be appreciated instead of constant elevator travel. A vanity and additional closet/changing area was against the back wall, separated by the rest of the room with short walls on each side. It reminded me of a dollhouse my grandfather had made me.

  Most of the room was occupied by a beautiful living area that included a personal kitchenette, entertainment center…everything I needed on the days I wished to be a hermit. As I explored the living area, I realized some of the floor-to-ceiling windows were doors, opening onto a balcony.

  I had deserted Sean for quite some time, so I traveled back downstairs in the elevator. The door didn’t open so I touched the side of the elevator. It opened not in the changing room, but in the pass-through between the downstairs living area and the bathroom. One elevator with multiple openings. How clever.

  Sean stood at the front door of my quarters.

  “Thanks for showing me around, Sean. You may be dismissed for the evening,” I said.

  “I’m your night guard. My post is here until morning,” he told me, with a quizzical look on his face.

  “Well, maybe you could be my night guard on the other side of the door.”

  “There is a guard posted there as well. I won the right to guard you here and I can’t abandon my post.”

  “Even if I order you to?” I walked up to Sean, trying to make eye contact, but he stood much taller and continued looking straight ahead.

  “Yes. We have all sworn to protect you. You have control over us in every other way except removing us from our posts without proper reinforcement.”

  “Look me in the eyes.”

  He lowered his head, boring his hazel eyes into mine. It became uncomfortable and intimate, but I kept my gaze, trying to remember that this situation was under my control.

  “So, for example, if I told you to kiss me, what would you do?”

  “I would kiss you.”

  “Out of duty?”

  “Because I have promised to serve you in any way you wish.”

  I squinted, not sure that answer satisfied my curiosity.

  “Would you enjoy it?” I asked.

  “Of course. I love you.”

  The intensity of the stare and conversation, made me break eye contact first, but in a vain attempt to remain in charge, I said goodnight and excused myself.

  Sleep did not come easily. I saw Deidra’s face over and over again, after the slap. I would search her out in the morning for a heart-to-heart talk.

  As the night drug on, I kept thinking about the men in this castle and that I could control them on a whim. Not only did they have to abide by my orders, but they would serve me willingly and with love. My mind wandered to sensual places, getting lost in fantastical possibilities.

&n
bsp; Chapter 17- Dad and Rick

  Dad adjusted his tie when the knock at the door sounded.

  “You’re sure you want to go with us, Dad?”

  He didn’t answer me. Dad could easily think of a hundred things he’d rather do, but this fact-finding mission required his attendance. He didn’t like Rick the moment he met him and he believed this dinner would solidify his first impression.

  What that meant for me was a long conversation afterward, where Dad would question my judgment. It made me wish the two of them would go out to dinner and leave me home.

  Dad answered the door. Rick saw that Dad had dressed for dinner and thanked him for deciding to join us. The sweet thing is- Rick really meant it. He took one step in, greeting me with a bouquet of flowers and a hug.

  “Our reservations are in 20 minutes at Pierre’s. Do you like French food, Mr. Cavenaugh?”

  “I’m sure they’ll have something on the menu to my liking.”

  Rick turned around, I set the flowers down on a table and we followed him to the car. I decided to sit in the back, still not enthused about the prospect of tonight. At the restaurant, I sat across from Dad; Rick sat to my left. The waiter was very attentive, explaining the specials and welcoming us as new patrons of the restaurant. It left little time for initial conversation.

  It wouldn’t be long before Dad began his interview process. Rick would unknowingly start with one hundred percent, getting deductions by ten percentage points every time he found fault with an answer or comment. He used this method when he interviewed candidates at work and claims he used it while dating, but having met many of the women- it’s likely that some were graded on a curve.

  “What will you be ordering?” Rick asked both of us. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to practice some of my French and see how well I manage.”

  His enthusiasm high, Rick spoke back and forth with the waiter. Dad glanced over at me, raising an eyebrow to signify his approval.

  Once the waiter left, my dad said, “That’s very impressive, Rick, where’d you learn to speak French like that?”

  “I’ve been taking French classes for a couple of years. I was supposed to be serving an internship in France this summer, but I decided not to go at the last minute.”

  Shirking responsibility: minus 10.

  I fiddled with the napkin in my lap.

  “So, if you’re not going to France, what is your plan for the future? What are you studying in school?”

  “Business,” Rick answered. “But, school is kind of a formality because my dad owns a couple of companies where I can start my career.”

  Nepotism: minus 10.

  “So, tell me how you and Muriel started dating,” Dad asked.

  “We met because we lived right across the hall. I tried to hit on her constantly, but Muriel wanted nothing to do with me and would always explain we were ‘just neighbors.’” Dad nodded his head up and down, understanding Rick’s explanation so far. “My best friend, Greg, had a crush on Muriel, so I set them up on a date and they both had a great time.”

  The waiter brought soup to the table.

  “I don’t understand, honey,” Dad looked in my direction. “If you had such a nice time with this other boy, what went wrong?”

  “Greg had a football game the day after their date and had to get home,” Rick explained. “We were at a party and Greg asked me to get Muriel home safely. I’m not sure what happened- except that I fell in love with her that evening.”

  This was a tough call. Dad would probably deduct 10 for Rick selfishly ignoring Greg’s feelings and friendship, but Rick could have also lost 10 points for answering a question that wasn’t directed at him. Although, agreeing to walk me home safely, easily means a 10 point gain. Selfishness: minus 10.

  Dad calculated the numbers in his head, as he leaned back in his chair.

  “You say you’re in love with my daughter?”

  “Very much so.”

  “And what is it about Muriel that you love?”

  Rick gazed at me over the table like a lovesick puppy. He sighed. “There are so many things to love about your daughter. She’s smart, beautiful, funny…I crave her company.” He kept eye contact with me. “And the first time we made love, I knew there couldn’t be anyone else.”

  My eyes grew wide.

  Sex with his daughter: Minus 100- Game Over.

  Dad stood up before Rick even realized the error, too wrapped up in his string of compliments. Dad pulled my chair out, so we could go. Rick got up to protest, but Dad held up his hand.

  “I came here to give you a chance, Rick,” Dad said, “but it’s obvious all you think about is sex. I met you in the dorm after you had sex and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you touch my daughter again.”

  “But, she’s the only one I want to touch.”

  Both Dad and I were awestruck for a moment by Rick’s thoughtless retort. Dad recovered first, grabbing my arm and leading us to the front of the restaurant. He asked the maître’de to call a cab. When we went through the front door, I glanced back at Rick, head in hands, back shaking as he cried.

  Dad paid the cab driver when we arrived home. No precedence for the upcoming conversation existed, but there could be no doubt that one imminently loomed.

  “Muriel, I love you. You know that, but you and this Rick guy make no sense to me. I think of the amazing man you had in Jed and Rick simply doesn’t measure up.”

  The mention of Jed’s name wounded me, like a dagger to my heart and tears welled up in my eyes immediately.

  Dad continued, “He’s spoiled, irresponsible, self-centered…”

  “First,” I interrupted. “There will never be anyone like Jed, so please don’t compare the two. I know that Rick isn’t perfect, but I also know he loves me…very much. That must count for something.”

  “I can see that he cares for you, but for how long? Until he’s walking someone else home? Or when he goes back to college, hooking up with girls all over campus? I can’t see him taking this seriously for very long. And I’m not convinced you’re even in love with him!”

  Too much truth inhabited Dad’s words, so I went up to my room, where I believed the accuracy would sting less. The fact that he recognized my confusion troubled me. I wanted space from both Rick and Dad at the moment.

  It was still light outside, but I pulled the shades and got ready for bed early. I needed to be at Marine World tomorrow before my shift started, and the sooner this day ended, the better. I snuggled into bed, my heart aching, remembering Jed as I drifted off to sleep.

  The sun had barely caressed the horizon when my eyes opened the next morning. I could take all the time needed to get ready and it felt luxurious. What a huge relief to know that Dad didn’t care much for early-morning banter, so if we were to see each other- a short greeting would be all he could muster.

  I grabbed a sweatshirt on my way out of the house and spotted Delvin in my driveway.

  “Good morning,” he said. “I’m here to walk you to work.”

  “You do realize we live in a very safe neighborhood?”

  Delvin handed me a small jewelry box, which I opened. A sparkling, beautiful diamond ring was nestled inside.

  “Delvin, I like you, but it’s too soon,” I joked.

  “I’m not giving that to you,” he said.

  “I realize that. Is this for your girlfriend? Are you going to propose?”

  “No. I’m not sure what I’m going to do about her, but a ring is definitely not the answer.”

  I tried to hand the box back to Delvin.

  “No,” he raised his hand. “The ring is for you, but it’s from Rick. He stayed at my house last night. He’s a wreck. He’s leaving for Vermont this morning. He said you can return the ring to him at school if you don’t accept.”

  “Accept what? Is this a proposal?”

  Delvin shrugged. “He told me that he’s asked you to marry him no less than five times.”

  “Let me go put this in the
house. I don’t need to be walking around with this at work.”

  When I came back out, I could hear the garage door raising.

  “Can I help you with something, son?” Dad asked Delvin, as he came out of the garage.

  “No, thank you, I’m walking Muriel to work.”

  Dad looked in my direction as I walked past. “Do I need to start wearing a side arm to keep the men at bay?”

  I ignored his quip, but turned pink with embarrassment at the comment. We began walking toward Marine World.

  “So, I guess you’ll be giving the ring back. Poor Rick.”

  “I never said that.”

  Delvin shook his head back and forth, kicking pebbles on the path. “I’ve seen enough women around a ring to know that’s not the reaction a man is hoping for. You didn’t even try the thing on.”

  “I didn’t want us to be late for work.”

  “Oh, ya, that one minute would have made all the difference.”

  “Listen, I can walk myself to work. Don’t get pissy with me because I have commitment issues. It’s your girlfriend you’re mad at.”

  “Wow, you’re irritating.”

  “We’ve known each other for a whole day, so if our friendship ends here, neither of us should be too affected by the gaping hole of emptiness left in our lives.”

  “And, now, you have been elevated to bitch status.”

  I looked at Delvin, ready to give him a verbal shellacking, but he screamed out while swinging his arm through the tall grass.

  Blood trickled down his fingers and hand as several thorns were imbedded in his skin. I removed the larger ones, but some of them only came out when using my teeth. The last one wouldn’t budge.

  “We’re close to work and I can maybe get this one out with tweezers,” I said.

  Delvin and I went to the kitchen-like area in the aquarium, where a lot of the meals were prepped for the animals in the park.