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"I brought you something," Ashley said to Christine, after the tension had finally dissipated and Raoul and Nadir were seated at opposite sides of the living room, glowering at each other. She retrieved two large, plastic bags from a corner of the room and brought them over to Christine, seating herself beside her on the sofa.
"Look, I have a cousin who just had her tubes tied, and she was happy to get rid of these maternity clothes. They´re pretty new, and I think they´re kind of nice," said Ashley, pulling a dress from one of the bags to show to Christine. "She´s more or less your size, you know, and she has just great fashion sense. Anyhow, it´s better not to spend too much money on maternity wear – you´ll be sick of it all by the time you´re in your ninth month."
Gratitude for Ashley´s thoughtfulness warred with exasperation within Christine; she peeked into the bag to glance at the rest of the clothes, hoping her smile was not as artificial as it felt.
"They´re not exactly your style, are they, Christine?" commented Meg, who had approached to look at the contents of the bags. She examined the items one by one superficially, sorting through them with her fingertips, until she came upon a pink top, which she pulled out and held up for everyone in the room to see. "Yeah, I can see you in this, Christine!"
It was a pink knit top with BABY marching across the chest in boldface letters. Beneath the word, an arrow pointed downwards towards the area waiting to be filled by a heavily pregnant belly.
"Oh!" said Christine, and her manners abandoned her. "I can´t wear that!"
"Christine!" said Raoul reproachfully. Christine glanced at him, annoyed. How can you wear only the latest styles and be happy to see me in this?
"I´m sorry," she said, turning to Ashley with what she hoped was a conciliatory smile. "It´s just that one top. I´ll make good use of the rest of the clothes," she said wanly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Meg give her a sharp glance. The other clothes in the bag, though better than the Top from Hell, were better suited to a woman with different coloring and tastes.
As she examined a pair of jeans with an elastic inset, Christine thought of Erik and the first awkward days of her marriage – and of a closet filled with clothes which had been made especially for her, down to the most delicate lingerie. Somehow the clothes that she had brought with her when she had moved into his house had disappeared, and she had been obliged to wear what Erik had wordlessly provided her. Every morning, when she greeted him quietly at breakfast, his custom had been to peruse her person quickly, from head to toe, offer a curt nod of approval, and return to his paper, though something of his gaze remained with her and charged the air. Her own feelings had been those of a strange, new type of humiliation – he directed every aspect of her life, down to the last thread of clothing she wore.
Would Erik care what she wore now? Probably not, she decided. She would soon very closely resemble a cow, after all.
"I hope he likes these," she murmured, and knew immediately that she had said the wrong thing.
"You hope who likes these, Christine?" asked Ashley with a touch of irritation. "What do you mean?"
"Her husband is kind of picky about the clothes she wears," supplied Meg quietly.
"What kind of an anal-retentive bastard would be that domineering?" snarled Ashley. She seemed increasingly unhappy about the less-than-enthusiastic response to her gift.
"The kind of anal-retentive bastard who nearly kills people," offered Raoul, rubbing his neck. "The kind of guy Christine should be leaving…"
"My employer will kill you if his wife leaves him," said Nadir to Raoul in flat, matter-of-fact tones.
There was an immediate silence. Raoul stared at Nadir in shock; Nadir looked back at him, his face inscrutable.
Ashley broke the silence. "Well! Isn´t that nice? So you´ve been staying with your violent, domineering husband all this time because he´s been blackmailing you?" She turned towards Raoul and gave him a significant glance.
Raoul blanched and pressed his lips together and looked down at his feet. Without looking up, he addressed Christine quietly. "Is this true?"
Christine was silent. Protesting her love for her husband to this group of people, at this moment, under these circumstances, seemed hopeless. Erik had never retracted his threat, and she was certain that he would not hesitate to use Raoul as a pawn – it would be the least of the evils which could befall Raoul if she were to leave her husband again.
"Well, I´m not really sure…" she began, but Nadir interrupted her.
"It is the truth."
Another stunned silence. Finally, Ashley leaned forward to hug Christine.
"Baby, I knew things were bad, but I didn´t know how bad they were with you. I think it´s about time you knew something. I´ve talked with Nadir here, and he´s told me a lot about your husband, and it´s none of it very nice…"
Christine stole a startled glance at Nadir from over Ashley´s shoulder. He smiled at her weakly and shrugged.
"…It´s none of it nice at all," continued Ashley as Christine broke free from the hug awkwardly. "And I´ve been wanting to let you know that I can help you, if you need it. I can help you get away from him."
A feeling of alarm surged through Christine, and she dared another glance at Nadir. "Thanks – I appreciate your offer, really, but things aren´t that bad – honest! My husband is a good man, really, in spite of what he´s done – and I need to stay with him so that he won´t suffer and do something…rash. If I were to leave and something were to happen, I could never forgive myself."
She was rambling, and she knew it. She realized quickly that she had said too much in the face of Ashley´s implacable concern.
"You are not Jesus Christ, Christine," snapped Ashley. "You cannot save a man from himself, and you weren´t placed on this earth to watch over a man who´s incredibly violent. That is not your responsibility, honey, and anyone who tells you otherwise is telling you wrong. You know what you are if you stay with him? You´re an enabler. You´re letting him threaten you and walk all over you, and things are not going to get better. What on earth do you see in him?"
Someone who needs me as much as I need him! Christine was surprised when the words popped into her head of their own volition. She was silent, however.
"I see," continued Ashley. "Look, Christine, I'm older than you are, and I´ve had enough experience with men to know that sooner or later you´ll want to escape this lunatic you´re living with. I just want you to know that I have friends who can help. If you´re worried about Raoul – if that´s what´s keeping you with that man – then my friends can protect him, too."
"Friends?" inquired Christine, trying to keep the doubt out of her voice. Is this woman touched in the head?
Ashley appeared to read her thoughts. "They´re professionals, Christine. They´ve worked as contractors for the government, and they could defend anyone, believe me, and they´re very good at helping women who are escaping stalkers and the like. They´re really nice guys. Aren´t they, Nadir?"
Christine looked at Nadir in astonishment as he nodded silently. She had been surprised at Ashley´s openness in front of Nadir, and even more surprised that Nadir seemed to be cooperating with her – he was working for Erik, after all. Wasn´t he?
"You do not need to stay with him," Nadir said softly, and Christine had to strain to hear him, as did everyone else in the room. "I will help you to escape. These friends of Ashley…I have met them. They can protect you, even against him."
Nadir? Christine felt her head spinning with the depth and strength of his betrayal.
"Just think about it, Christine," said Raoul, and she looked up to see that everyone in the room was looking at her, their faces masks of sympathy.
"Stop pushing her!" snarled Meg, and Christine rose from the sofa and started for the door as Raoul, Ashley, and Meg began to argue.
"I´m sorry, but I´ve got to go," she murmured, swallowing tears.
Nadir rose to his feet, prepared to follow Christine, but it was Ashley who reached her first, grasping her arm before she could put her hand on the doorknob. Nadir stiffened visibly as he watched, but no one noticed.
"I´m sorry, honey – really! I didn´t mean to pressure you. You do what you want, okay? I just wanted you to know you have a choice, and I´m here to help you. You have a lot to think about now, what with that baby on the way, too. I just want you to know I´m your friend. Look," she said, as she handed Christine a tobaccoey-smelling Kleenex from her purse, "I´ll just give you my phone number, 'kay? And don´t forget the clothes!" she added, as she handed the clothes-filled bags to Christine, who finished wiping her face and accepted them reluctantly.
"Thanks," she murmured, and she pulled open the door and nearly screamed. Angela Fanning was on the other side, her hand poised to ring the doorbell.
"Well, look who we have here," Angela said, smiling maliciously. From behind her, Christine could hear Raoul´s moan.
Many women experience a significant increase in sex drive during the second trimester of their pregnancy…
"No kidding," murmured Christine to herself as she put her pregnancy guide, Expecting the Best, down on a side table. She glanced appreciatively at Erik´s back again. He had rearranged the furniture in the living room just after breakfast, and he was now in shirtsleeves, his tall figure braced against the piano as he pushed it to the other side of the room. She watched him, fanning herself.
"Are you warm?" asked Erik, glancing towards her without actually meeting her gaze. His voice was soft, and its melodious timbre thrilled her.
"A little," she said uncomfortably, and something in her tone caused her husband to stare at her. She had his full attention now. Darn! He was like a bulldog whenever he subjected her to his scrutiny, and he never gave up until he had extracted the truth from her.
"Christine, what´s wrong?" he asked, brushing off his hands and approaching her.
Your fat cow of a wife wants to go to bed with you, that´s what´s wrong!
Every change in her relationship with Erik had wrought unexpected consequences. His new gentleness with her and his timid expressions of daylight affection were no exception. She was now more relaxed around him, and she found herself drawn to him in ways which were as often erotic as platonic. She found herself in a curious situation: for the very first time in her life, she wished to initiate sexual intimacy, and she did not have the first idea how. Erik had always been her guide in their bedroom, and she felt her own awkwardness keenly when she thought of his worldly sophistication.
She glanced surreptitiously at the bags of maternity clothes she had parked in the corner of the room without bothering to take them to her closet. She had come home from her visit with Meg, Raoul and Ashley two evenings ago, and she had sought refuge in Erik as a child seeks refuge in its mother´s skirts. He had noticed her clinginess, of course, but he had refrained from interrogating her about it. Perhaps he thought that she was under the influence of pregnancy hormones.
Erik continued to stand over her. "Christine?"
She took a deep breath. "I´m fat and ugly, and I´m getting fatter and uglier by the day – that´s what´s wrong!" she said, and managed to meet his gaze.
He stared at her for nearly a minute before he started to chortle. She blushed to the roots of her hair.
"You are joking," he ventured, but there was uncertainty in his voice.
As if to illustrate her point, Christine jumped to her feet in exasperation, retrieved the bags of clothes from the corner, and brought them to the sofa. She pulled out a bile-green maternity dress which was replete with frills and pleats. Erik had remained where he was, but he was clearly no longer amused. In fact, his entire stance had become rigid.
"Where the hell did you get that?" he hissed, indicating the sacks with a stiff hand.
"Hand-me-downs from Ashley," muttered Christine.
"I will not have you wearing this trash!" he snarled, and, seizing the bags, shoved them into the fireplace. He backed away from them as if he feared contamination, and then pitched something into the fireplace with a spiteful hand. There was a snapping noise, and the bags burst into flames.
"Oh, well done!" Christine spat. "Now I´ll have to go shopping!"
Erik turned towards Christine. "Have you looked into your closet lately?" he asked quietly.
"Well…yes…" she said, but something nagged at the back of her mind. Her closet was enormous, and she had missed something, she knew. "But maybe not thoroughly," she finished lamely.
"You will find the clothing I have selected for you at the back of your closet. You will not insult me by dressing like a pauper suffering from daltonism, do you understand?"
Gratitude, guilt, resentment, need, and something even stronger competed for too little space within Christine, and she solved the problem by bursting into tears.
Erik stood frozen to the spot, surprise and panic in his eyes. He seemed oddly helpless, and Christine would have found it amusing had she not been in the state she was.
"You should unload me, Erik. You…you should get rid of me! What size … what size did you get me, 'Mammoth Big Mama'? Cause that´s the size I need! No wonder you only wanna make love in the dark! I´m…I´m a toad with an attitude!" she wailed miserably.
Sudden understanding dawned in Erik´s eyes, and they shone now with an eager glint. Though graceful, his movements were so rapid that he seemed to pounce on Christine.
"Come," he said, and his voice vibrated with desire.
"You don´t have to –"
He swung her easily into his arms and carried her into their bedroom.
Erik was so diligent in his efforts to shore up his wife´s self-esteem that they did not leave the bedroom for several hours, and intelligible conversation was impossible for a long time.
Christine awakened in her husband´s arms, and she stared drowsily at the silvery, circular scar which stood out on the plane of flesh just beneath his collarbone. She knew he was awake and she was aware that he was watching her quietly, but she did not feel self-conscious. She moved her head slightly downward to place her ear over his heart, and she listened to its pumping for several minutes, thinking of another tiny heartbeat – so rapid, so fragile, so full of promise. She felt the baby´s impatient movements more often now; they seemed to be increasing in force, too.
Erik´s long fingers caressed her abdomen lightly, then waited. The baby fluttered and stilled, and Christine could feel her husband´s smile as he kissed her temple.
"You know, I thought you only cared about the baby for a while there," Christine said, finally breaking the peaceful silence. "I thought that was why you brought me back home."
"No," said Erik, and though his voice was quiet, Christine could feel the word vibrate in his chest.
There was a silence between them. Finally, Erik spoke, and Christine looked up to see him gazing into the distance – a terrible, reptilian gaze to all save his wife, unmasked as he was.
"I thought I might have to let you go, you know," he murmured. "You had been so unhappy with me, after all, and when I found you, I watched you. You had established a life for yourself, and you seemed so damnably content. Just when I had nearly despaired – just when I had decided that it was best for me to write my final adieu – I discovered that you were carrying our child. I cannot describe the effect it had on me.
"Do you believe in divine intervention, Christine? You needn´t answer; I know that you do. No symbol could have been clearer than the heart which beats between us. It saved everything."
"You mean you wanted me back anyway, pregnant or no?"
"I understand how you might doubt it, but that is the truth. As I have told you, Christine, there will be truth between us."
No movement yet. Nadir sighed and rubbed his eyes. He had been waiting for Christine to appear for the past several days, and she had not. The only part of Erik´s home which was visible from the street was an unremarkable-looking garage. Any outside observer would merely have shrugged at the sight of it and continued on his way, but Nadir knew of the several routes – fraught with traps, all of them – which connected the garage to the house.
"I am tempted to dismiss you, Karrubi, but for your loyalty to my wife," Erik had remarked during their last conversation. Do you have any idea how loyal to her I am, Erik St. Amand?
Erik St. Amand. He was the cause of all this trouble. His murderous past was the reason that Christine would have to be tempted away from his home. Hell, his murderous past was the reason that Nadir himself had been driven from his own home!
"I do not wish for you to seek my wife out. It is I who will tell you when you may speak with her." No! He needed to speak with Christine, and soon. He was afraid that Ashley´s aggressive approach had frightened her, and that there would be no way to lure her away from Erik now. A curse on Ashley! Her noisy approach had backfired and driven Christine closer to Erik rather than away from him.
The garage door opened, and Nadir caught a glimpse of Christine. She clasped the medal at her neck for several moments, mouthing a prayer, then entered her car. Perfect. As she left the gated drive, Nadir followed close behind.
Onions, bell peppers, tomato paste, shrimp…
Christine checked her shopping list. Shrimp Creole tomorrow night, but tonight we go out to eat. She felt a flutter of anticipation. It was the first time she had gone out to eat with Erik in years, and the very first time she had actually looked forward to it. She thought back to the days just after her father had died, when Erik had taken her to a quiet restaurant every evening and nearly forced her to eat, his face grim and his demeanor unyielding.
No, tonight was different. Tonight they would be eating at Els Quatre Gats, which was the most stylish restaurant in the city.
For the first time in a long time, flight from Erik was not constantly in Christine´s thoughts. She was grateful to Ashley for forcing her to face reality: separation from Erik could only hurt them both.
Christine paused to look at some tomatoes.
"Christine?"
She turned to look at Nadir, who had turned a corner so rapidly that she was now standing not four feet from him.
"Nadir…Hi!" she said weakly, and she stepped back slightly. "Listen, I don´t know if it´s a good idea for me to be talking with you. I haven´t told Erik what happened the other night, and I know you were just trying to help me, but you´re supposed to be working for him, not me, aren´t you?"
"I am worried about you, Christine. You know this man´s past. Do you think he will not turn on you some day?"
Every instinct within Christine answered the question for her. "No, Nadir," she said slowly. "You don´t need to worry about me. But let´s not talk about this anymore, okay? I don´t think my husband would like it."
My husband.
Nadir watched as Christine walked away, and he noticed with a protective tenderness that her pregnancy was now definitely beginning to show.
Very well. If Christine could not be persuaded to leave Erik, he would have to try another, more violent tactic.
"Caragols a la llauna?"
Christine looked at Erik inquisitively, waiting for him to translate.
He smiled indulgently. "Oh, I do not think you would care for those, especially in your condition…"
"Well, maybe I would! What are they?"
"Snails with a type of piquant sauce. Still eager to sample them, my dear?"
"Oh…well…maybe not. Anyhow, they´re way too expensive. Maybe I should have an appetizer and stop with that."
"I did not bring you here to have you 'stop with an appetizer,'" said Erik, a trace of indignation in his tones.
"Well, I don´t want to eat like a horse at a place as expensive as this," protested Christine rather weakly.
"Oh, but by all means, do," purred Erik. "Amuse me."
Christine tried to kick her husband under the table and failed. He smiled at her devilishly, then reached across the table to cover her hand with his. "You are to do me the favour of ordering whatever your heart desires. We are wealthy, after all, and what´s the good of wealth if you refuse to enjoy it?"
"It´s the first time you´ve ever referred to your money out loud. I thought you considered it vulgar," Christine mumbled, covering her face with the menu.
Erik wrested the menu from her hands. "Let´s be vulgar for a moment, then. First of all, we are subject to community property laws. It´s not my money, Christine, it´s our money, and you have no idea how much of it there is, do you? You really do not have a clue…"
She reddened. "We´ve really never talked about it before…"
"My fault entirely." Erik rose and skirted the table until he stood beside her, an amused glint in his yellow eyes. He leaned down and whispered something in Christine´s ear.
"Oh, my God," she gasped, and watched, wide-eyed, as he returned to his chair with an air of satisfaction.
"I consider myself fortunate. A man in my situation can rarely claim to have a wife who loves him."