last couple of months, because it's not my favorite
topic. Suffice it to say that a lot has been going on
with me, some good some bad, and I haven't been able
to update. It's going to be slow going, but I'm going
to get back into the swing of this. Hit me up with
some reviews and the process might go a bit faster. I
love you all!
a/n 2 If you read any of my stuff, you KNOW I'm not a
big quote/poetry user, but I stumbled across this one
by accident and I thought it was lovely and
wonderfully appropriate for this chapter. Also, you'll notice that the way this is written out is very, very odd. It's not actually a long chapter. I just don't know how to run a Mac. If anyone writes on here and uses a Mac or knows how to use an eMac, PLEASE e-mail or PM me and help me!
CHAPTER 13—SWEET KISSES
Summer Love
The sweet, rustic smell of the rain,
Fills my nose, my head, and my brain.
The springtime showers soak my dress,
and toes tingle with a grassy caress.
The beauty of this day is lost to me,
As the deaf man hears not the melody.
For all Nature's wonders seem so dim,
When I am here, standing next to him.
--Valerie Dawn Keller--
The next morning seemed to come too soon for
Christine—she woke early, unable to sleep very long.
Looking at the clock on the bedside table, she
realized, with a groan, that it truly was too early.
The hands indicated the ungodly hour of half past five
in the morning.
Curling her legs beneath her, Christine sat in a
tailor-position as she rubbed her eyes and stretched
before looking around. Light was not yet peeking
through the heavy over-curtains of her windows and she
heaved a sigh as she resigned herself to the fact that
there was too much going on in her head and she was
going to be the only one awake for at least another
three or four hours.
As she walked downstairs, though, she realized she was
wrong.
Bellona turned the corner from the dining room, Aimée
in her arms. The older woman smiled at Christine, a
hint of surprise evident in her green eyes.
"What are you doing up so early?"
"Couldn't sleep," Christine answered. "You?"
"She couldn't sleep," Bellona answered, a small frown
creasing her forehead as she looked down at her
daughter. "She's got this cold and it makes her so
fussy. She's starting to make me fussy!" Bellona shook
her head and heaved a sigh before putting a smile on
her face. "If you want coffee, there's some in there.
Don't ask me why—I guess the maid couldn't sleep
either."
Christine smiled back gratefully and stepped into the
dining room to pour a cup before rejoining Bell in the
hallway. She found the other woman standing in the
doorway to the parlor with an odd look on her face.
Christine gave her a quizzical look. All she got in
reply was an almost-amused, "Well."
Christine followed her gaze to the plush love seat in
the corner. She was lost for words as Bellona dryly
added, "That's something you don't see every day."
"I thought he was celibate."
"Self-imposed.
He misses his wife. Or missed, I suppose."
"Oh, my."
"'Oh, my'? More like, 'What the fuck is our father
going to say?'"
"Anything he says can be rebuffed by his feelings
toward me. Besides, she's older than me."
"Only by a year or two."
"Still. A year or two can make all the difference in
the world. Anyway, there has to be a way that he
doesn't have to find out about this…"
"I can't believe this—this just isn't right. That
man's like an uncle to us! Isn't there a blanket
somewhere around here?"
"On the back of the love seat."
"Maybe we should shake them."
"Oh, yes, Bellona, let's wake your father's best
friend and your sister while they're half-naked on the
love seat in your father's parlor. I'm sure the sound
of screaming and shouts won't carry upstairs and wake
the entire house."
"Or worse—just Papa."
"Why is that worse?"
"Because you'd be the only one here to hold him
back—I've got a handful of baby."
Lost for anything else to do, Christine pulled the
door shut as Bellona stepped to the side to pick up a
silver ashtray left on a nearby table from the night
before. She mimed dropping it onto the floor and
Christine nodded and stepped back a bit. Bellona
looked upward, as if pleading with God not to let the
sound of the silver falling to the floor carry or wake
Aimée. As the ashtray clattered to the floor, Bell
and Christine held their breath for a second before
Christine said, just loud enough to be heard in the
next room, "What was that? Are you all right?"
"Ashtray," Bell said in the same volume voice. "I
bumped into this table and it fell. I hope it didn't
wake anyone."
"Don't be ridiculous. There's no one down here to
hear." Christine crossed back to Bellona, her feet
falling a bit harder than normally. "Would you care
for some more coffee?"
"I'd love some more coffee!" Bellona exclaimed.
Christine gave her an odd look and Bell mouthed,
Overly perky?
Christine nodded and the pair of them walked back down
the hall, trying to be quiet, but not too quiet.
After several minutes of sitting in the dining room,
they were beginning to think it hadn't worked when
Bellona heard rustling in the hallway. The stairs
creaked a bit until the owner of the feet climbing
them reached the top. Or what was supposed to be
assumed by Bellona and Christine to be the bottom.
Nadir came around the corner, looking flushed as he
reached for the carafe. "Good morning, ladies."
"Good morning, Nadir," Bell said, yawning. "I didn't
wake you with my clumsiness, did I? I know you're a
light sleeper and I'd hate it if I—"
"It's fine, Bellona," he said. "I couldn't sleep,
anyway."
Her eyes gleamed as she nodded her head. "I guess
not." She stood, placing her now empty cup on the
table, and smiled. "I'm going to see if I can't get
her and I back to sleep." She winked at Christine who
quickly lowered her gaze to study her coffee.
Nadir sat down across from Christine, a small,
uncharacteristic smirk playing across his lips.
"Well, Christine," he said, "I trust the evening was
enjoyable for you?"
Christine felt her face color a bit, but she refused
to be embarrassed. She, after all, had not spent the
night half-dressed in the arms of a member of the
opposite sex. She smirked right back and said, "Very
much so. I would have thought you did, as well, but
you disappeared after dinner. I hope you were not
unwell—did the food disagree with you?"
There was a brief silence between the two of them
before Nadir cleared his throat and said, "I—was
detained."
"I'm sure you were," she said, an atypically wicked
flint in her eyes. "I don't suppose you know where
Raja was, then. We looked for her, but didn't seem to
find her anywhere!"
"I've no idea where she was," he said, stuttering a
bit. He seemed to be anxious to change the subject,
as he said, "What are your plans for today?"
"I'm not sure," Christine said. "I think it's
planning on raining." She looked out the window. The
sun seemed to be rising, but there had been no stars
before it, and there was no morning star now. The
moon seemed to have disappeared a good hour earlier
than normal, and the bit of sunlight peeking over the
horizon was poking through a few thin and empty
spots. The sky should have been orange and gold.
Instead, it was a deep blue-gray over a streak of red,
that same color that precedes a morning of rain.
Christine gave a sigh as she resigned herself to a day
stuck inside with embroidery.
Nadir seemed to be reading her mind.
"I'm sure you'll find something to keep you busy," he
said. "If you were feeling particularly adventurous,
you could always attempt to tidy up the solarium a
bit. I understand it's been in a bit of disarray
since Erik bought the place. The gardeners haven't
quite gotten around to it yet."
Christine smiled brightly. "For your brilliant idea,
I shall keep your silence."
Nadir choked a bit on his coffee.
As he spluttered and attempted to clean himself up a
bit, he stared wide-eyed at Christine. "What?"
"You should really thank Bellona," she said. "She
didn't want Erik's wrath to fall on you—you've seen
how he is with Raoul."
Nadir coughed a bit more as Christine laughed, but
both of them quickly composed themselves as Erik
entered the room. Perhaps, though, they still looked
a bit suspicious, as he gave Nadir an odd look before
turning his gaze to her. She smiled, feeling a blush
creep up her neck and cheeks. "Good morning," she
murmured.
"You slept well, I trust?"
Erik cleared his throat and sat down across from her,
down a seat from Nadir who was determinedly staring
into his coffee.
"Time to pray, I think," he murmured suddenly. He
rose, and without another word left the room.
A silence settled between the pair and Christine gave
a nervous cough before saying, "I think I'd like to
work a bit in the solarium today. It's such a mess,
and God knows I've got nothing to do."
"Ah." Erik took a sip of coffee and Christine could
have sworn she saw his face fall.
She quickly added, "Unless there was something you
would rather do." She paused. "You know—together?"
"No, no, it's fine."
"Really, Erik, I'd love to spend the day however you
want." Another pause. "You could help me. I'm sure
there are things out there that could be moved that
are much too heavy for a woman. I simply need a
strong pair of hands."
This last statement came out dripping in an innuendo
Christine did not intend for it—she did not, however,
attempt to correct it.
He stared at his coffee for a moment before looking up
at her, a smile playing across his lips. "I'd like
that."
She smiled back and nodded once before returning to
her coffee. It was certainly going to be an
interesting day.
"No, I think that should go over there."
"But don't you think it's a bit… I don't know… awkward
there?"
"Oh, no! I think it'll catch a great deal of lovely
sunlight over there."
"If there were sunlight."
"Oh, stop it. It can't rain forever."
The solarium had come a long way from the mess it had
been that morning. Christine had been rearranging
potted plants all morning and Erik had been tossing
out dead plants and moving heavy metal tables around
to Christine's direction. It was well past noon at
that point, and Christine suddenly realized how hungry
she was. She mentioned this to Erik.
"We should stop to eat, I suppose," he said, casting
one last look at the large, exotic plant Christine had
just moved. "Really, though—you don't think that
looks—"
"It does not look odd here. I like it." She tilted
her chin up a bit. "Besides, didn't you know that
women are always correct?"
"I thought that only applied to Italian women."
"Everything but."
"Careful—I have an Italian daughter."
"That's what I was speaking of." Smiling brightly at
the stunned look on Erik's face, Christine turned,
grabbing his hand and dragging him to the kitchen.
"Come on—I'm hungry."
Once in the kitchen with plates in front of them, Erik
glanced up at Christine. She was biting into her
dessert early, and he was amused to see that she had a
bit of whipped cream on her nose. He debated now
telling her, but he couldn't help a chuckle at the
fact that she was attempting to be so prim while
unknowingly having that bit of white on her face. She
looked up when he began to chortle, asking what was
funny. It only became worse when she asked, "Do I
have something on my face?"
He was practically rolling and she frowned, wiping
around her mouth. "Is it off?"
Managing to quell his laughter enough to reach across
the counter, Erik gently cupped her cheek in his hand
and brushed the white foam from the very tip of her
nose. He lingered for a moment, still holding her
face, before he withdrew. A small smile lingered on
his lips as he showed her his thumb. "See?"
Obviously, she was trying to hide her embarrassment,
which made her all the lovelier to him. Still
laughing a bit, he absentmindedly popped his thumb in
his mouth to get rid of the cream before returning to
his lunch. They were quiet for several minutes as
they ate, but Erik found himself pleased with the
silence. It was one of those comfortable silences
when two people did not need to speak—when they were
comfortable enough to simply enjoy the peace and quiet
of each others company. It was pleasant—something
Erik was not used to.
He finished before Christine, who had been continually
wiping at her face with a napkin throughout her meal.
He had found this utterly adorable and he smiled to
himself as she slowly finished eating.
When she was done, she smiled at him and placed her
napkin on the table. "What shall we do now?"
"No more of the solarium today, please," he begged,
half joking and half serious.
Christine laughed.
"No more of the solarium." She looked out of the
window, heaving a sigh. "I hate the rain. You can't
ever do anything when it's raining."
"You could always needlepoint," he replied, a small
smirk on his face. The prospect of Christine sitting
with a needle and threat amused him to no end.
When she made a face, he laughed outright. "I have
several compositions I need to finish before I send
them to the publisher, so I'll be in the music room
for the rest of the day. There's no end to the
subjects in the library, if you'd care to read."
A small sigh escaped from her lips, her face still
turned toward the window. The look on her face was
almost disappointed, but Erik could not understand why
she would be so. He stood, clearing away their plates
and setting them in the sink to be washed. Turning,
he saw that her face was wistful as she stared into
the rain coming from a slowly darkening sky. "Are you
all right?"
She turned, and the smile crossing her face seemed
somewhat forced. "Of course I am," she said quickly.
Then, standing, she left the kitchen without another
word.
Erik stood for a moment, a bit confused about her
sudden change of demeanor, then shook it off as female
hormones before heading up to his music room.
As he climbed the stairs, a burst crying from upstairs
met his ears. He reached the top in time to see a
tired-looking Bellona emerge from her bedroom. Erik
waved a hand toward her, telling her to go back to
sleep. She smiled her thanks before turning and
retreating to her room.
Erik paused for a moment before turning away from the
music room and heading toward Aimée's room. When he
opened the door, a burst of sound hit his ears, and he
shut the door behind him before rushing across to the
bassinet and lifting the screaming baby from it. He
felt around her diaper--she was not wet. She had
eaten less than an hour ago. He soon found that she
only wanted attention. He smiled as he realized how
spoiled she was. She could not be awake and not have
attention. Erik found himself not minding. As she
looked up at him with wide eyes, he smiled down at
her. He bounced her up and down a bit, making little
noises at her. Suddenly, she let out a gurgling laugh
and smiled up at him. A broad grin crossed his face
as she continued her little laugh at the sounds he
made. He heard the door open behind him, and he
turned, his face puckered up, to see Bellona and Raoul
standing in the door. Bell burst into laughter at the
odd face, and Aimée squealed with delight at the sight
of her mother.
Bellona lifted her daughter from her father's arms,
smiling. "What's so funny, bambini?" she asked,
bouncing Aimée up and down a bit. "Is papi making
noises at you? Is he being silly?" She grinned up at
Erik. "I can't believe you made her laugh!" Aimée
let out another laugh and Bell smiled back down at
her. "La mia ragazza cara del bambini--siete così
divertenti!"
Raoul smiled, shaking his head as he passed his hand
over Aimée's shock of dark hair. "Her first words are
going to be in Italian, just you wait," he said,
watching as his fiancée cooed down at their daughter.
"I won't know what she's saying."
"How did you survive in Venice if you can speak
Italian?" Erik asked.
Raoul smiled sheepishly. "'Parlez-vous français.' I
speak Italian, but I have a tendency to insult when I
speak it--my inflection is terrible. What did she
say, anyway?"
"I told our darling baby that she's silly!" Bellona
never seemed to miss a beat. "And don't insult
yourself so. Your Italian is getting better every
day."
Erik smiled, kissing her on the cheek. "I have work
to do. You have fun."
She didn't seem to hear him--she was too absorbed in
the smile on her daughter's face. Erik left the room,
still somewhat distracted over little Aimée's first
laugh, and ran right into Christine. She nearly
toppled over and he managed to right himself in time
to catch her. She leaned against him for a moment
before she pulled back, smiling. "I thought you were
going to write."
"I was," he said. "Aimée needed attention."
A small snort of laughter escaped from Christine's
lips. "You spoil her so."
"She's my only grandchild," he said, puffing up a bit.
"Of course I spoil her." Christine laughed at this,
and Erik smiled, pleased to have amused her, even if
he hadn't meant to. "I can't write now. Would you
care to sit on the porch with me?"
She smile again, but it was a different kind of smile
this time--more tender. "I would love to."
He offered her arm, and she took it. He turned and
they walked away from the nursery, down the
stairs--through the sitting room and through the side
door to the wraparound porch.
It was still pouring down rain and Erik inhaled
deeply. Something about the rain appealed to Erik.
He couldn't think of why. Nothing good had ever come
from the rain, had it?
His mind suddenly flashed back to the night Bellona
had given birth to her daughter. It had been raining
when Raoul had arrived with Christine. He'd been so
worried that she would become ill that he'd hardly
realized she was really there. He remembered thinking
that it was as if she had come from the rain
itself--she was soaked through and smelled like clean
rain.
A gentle touch on his arm jerked him from his
thoughts. Christine was staring into his face with
what appeared to be concern. "Are you all right?" she
asked.
Erik nodded, taking her hand from his arm, but not
releasing it. Gently, afraid that she would pull away
if he moved too quickly, he pulled her a bit closer,
pleased when she offered up no resistance at all. On
the contrary, she actually moved closer to him,
pressing her free hand against his chest and resting
her head on his shoulder. It took him a moment to
respond to this--it had surprised him a bit. After a
moment, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and
rested his chin on top of her chestnut curls, still
not letting go of her hand, which he held in the crook
of his neck.
For a time, neither of them moved. They merely held
each other--not clinging as if to life, but the
comfortable embrace of lovers. Erik moved his head
down to press his good cheek against hers. She leaned
into him and he let go of her hand to turn her face
gently toward hers. He watched her just long enough
to see her brown eyes flutter shut before he closed
his own green ones and pressed his lips tenderly
against her soft ones. He felt more than heard her
inhale sharply as he tightened his grip on her waist,
moving his lips a bit against hers as he cupped the
back of her head in his hand, tilting it up. He was
surprised by her yet again when he felt her move to
deepen their kiss, and he allowed it, kissing her back
and pulling her a bit closer.
They parted so slowly that Erik did not realize it
until he felt a rush of cool wind from the rain
against his lips. He opened his eyes to find that
hers were still shut. He softly brushed his lips
before pulling her toward the bench and gently putting
her head on his shoulder. She gave a contented sigh
and snuggled up a bit closer to him, looking out into
the rain.
It wasn't long before that rain had lulled both of
them into sleep just deep enough that neither of them
woke with Bellona came outside and covered them both
in a blanket before returning to her smiling husband
and daughter.
a/n Yes, another one of these. I'm starting to
realize that stuff that makes sense to me may only
make sense in my head. Here's a bit of info to
hopefully make all this a bit easier to digest. Let
me know if I get confusing and I'll put more of this
backstory-ish stuff up.
-Aimée is about seven weeks old, around when babies
start to smile a bit and sometimes laugh. She was
about a month old at the end of chapter 10. That's
not necessarily too early for sex after pregnancy--I
have a girlfriend who popped out a baby three weeks
ago and she's at it again. She's just really insanely
tired all the time.
-Erik was never really upset by his daughter's
pregnancy because he had so little family. I like to
think that he refuses to shun his daughters off to the
side because of what he went through as a child. He
still doesn't like Raoul--he just tolerates him to
keep his daughter happy--her temper makes even him a
little nervous, and he doesn't want to set it off.
-Raoul's Italian really does suck. A friend of mine
told me the most adorable story of how his brother met
his wife in a foreign country (I can't remember which)
and could hardly speak two words of whatever, but she
spoke English and translated for him when his native
language became insulting. Raoul also isn't entirely
comfortable living in Erik's house, but his attitude
toward Bellona is like Erik's--he loves her and knows
better than to piss her off.
-Raja and Nadir. Where do I begin with Raja and
Nadir? I've been planning this from the beginning.
She tells Nadir more than she tells her father. She
darns everybody's socks, even his. He's been
protecting her for her whole life. Remember when they
left Erik and Christine alone together when Bellona
was giving birth? Ulterior motives, man. When Erik
and Christine come back from getting her dress,
they're out on the lawn, alone. Later, at the
dinner/ball thingie that I wrote so badly, Christine
looks around and says she can't find them. They
magically reappear later, dancing drunkenly, before
they disappear. When they pop up again, it's at the
beginning of this chapter. No sex, just... kinky
stuff.
-Bellona never jumped Raoul at the ball because she
didn't want Erik to know she'd been there. If she'd
come forward, he'd know she didn't trust him, and she
didn't want to upset him. Instead, in a fit of
pregnancy hormones, she vowed to kill Christine and
would up grudgingly liking her a bit.