Chapter the Sixth
In which an Object is sought and Suspicions are raised
Cecile had left the family chicken pot pie for dinner, which was quickly becoming the children's favorite meal. Damien put a forkful of food into his mouth and smiled; it was very good. Anita had been an excellent cook, but she had retired, which was how he had ended up with Cecile. She had come highly recommended from someone at work and after an extensive background check, Damien had hired her and she had impressed him, something that wasn't very easy to do, not for her housekeeping since, like Anita, she only did light housework, but her cooking skills were beyond outstanding. She was a graduate from several culinary schools, including Le Cordon-Bleu and Damien especially looked forward to coming home from work and finding out what was for dinner. As if that wasn't enough, she spoke three languages and was teaching the children French. Cecile treated Delia and Alexander like intelligent people, but also recognized that they were children and needed boundaries, which was why she had quit her last position; her previous employer had expected her to let his children do whatever they had wanted.
The children were eating when they looked at each other and then Alexander turned to his father. No doubt, the two of them had hatched some plan while he had been at work.
"Damien?"
"Alexander?"
"Deedle and I would like to go to the upstairs room, please."
Damien had never been secretive about going up to the chapel when it was only he and the children in the house. Lately, however, it was becoming more difficult to get up there when the children were home and awake, because if not occupied at some task, either one, or both, demanded to accompany him into the room. They had asked their father on previous occasions to go in, but what made the request unusual this time was that it was his son doing the requesting. Perhaps, they were trying a different strategy.
"Alexander, I've told both of you that you can't go into the room right now; it belongs to all of us, but I don't want either one of you in there for the time being."
"But why?"
If Damien had a nickel for every time that his daughter had uttered those words since she had learned to talked, he could buy and sell himself. "Delia, you know that I explain things to you and your brother, but when it comes to this I use Damien's prerogative: I say no, because I say so."
"But father, Xander and I want to go inside."
"Just because you want something, doesn't mean that you are going to get it."
Delia's eyes narrowed and she frowned, a sure sign that she was displeased with something, and then went back to eating her dinner.
"And making a face like that isn't helping your case."
"The door is locked."
"Yes it is Alexander, so neither you, nor your sister, nor anyone else can get in."
"Do you have the key?"
"Yes."
"Where is the key?"
Damien could feel Alexander's less than subtle attempt to manipulate his father into giving away the secret, but he only gave his son a warning look across the forkful of food that he was about to put in his mouth.
"But daddy…" then Alexander went silent and turned to his sister and moments later, the wickedest smiles that Damien had ever seen passed between the two of them and then there was silence as they concentrated on eating; but Delia, being her father's daughter, couldn't help but look at Damien with an expression on her face that dared him to try to figure out what the two of them were up to.
...oOo...
The next morning at breakfast, Damien watched his children and every now and then, they would exchange meaningful glances between each other. As usual, Delia and Alexander saw Damien off at the door. He bent down and looked his children in the eyes, "What are you two going to do today?"
"The 'literation work you left us for us," Alexander looked back at his father and Damien didn't sense any deception from him, which wasn't surprising considering how good his son usually was at getting what he wanted.
"Is that all?" Damien turned his attention to his daughter.
"Sí," Delia looked her father in the eyes, but he could feel a tremor of uncertainty from her and he could tell that she was hiding something.
"I'll see you when I come home from work, señorito y señorita," the usual declarations and displays of affection were exchanged between everyone and then Damien left.
...oOo...
Damien's day wasn't very busy; only two short meetings made up his morning and he had intended to spend the rest of the day in his office getting caught up with reports, which were always backlogged. Instead, after the meetings, he had grabbed a stack of folders, which he would read and sign at home, and took off early, intending to catch his children in flagrante delicto trying to find the key for the chapel.
Damien knew that Delia and Alexander would never find the key since he currently had it in his pocket, and he knew that there was no way for his children to get into the room. Damien had no intention of punishing his children, neither for lying to him, nor for trying to do something that they knew what displease their father. Instead, he was curious to see to what lengths they had gone to in order to get into the chapel, and to let them know that they weren't quite smart enough to put one over on their father. He smiled. Both last night and this morning, his children had possessed all the nuance of a runaway train in their machinations about getting into the room. He would have to teach his children to be cleverer in their attempts at being devious.
Once at home, Damien had the driver drop him off halfway up the driveway and he walked the rest of the way up to the house and let himself in. Neither of the children was in the foyer and he put his stuff in the closet and silently made his way up the stairs. Delia and Alexander were still unaware of their own talents and therefore would not have the foresight to "feel" for their father to prevent themselves from being caught red-handed. Just in case, Damien masked his own presence and once on the second floor, made his way to his bedroom and opened the door only to find the room deserted, but they had been there.
Drawers that were normally closed all the way were ajar. The bedding, which Cecile would have fixed, was wrinkled. Damien went to his walk-in closet and opened the door: his suits had been moved and his shoes were crooked. He looked down and saw marks in the carpet where one of them had pulled over the chair and stood on it to search the shelf, though whoever it was would have discovered that he or she was too short to look on the shelf of his closet.
Damien looked in both of their rooms and found them empty; however he had to laugh when he saw that they had both finished the work that he had left for them. Damien had a pretty good idea that if the pair had been unsuccessful in his room, there would be one other place that they would check before giving up, so he made his way back downstairs, but before he got to his study he heard Cecile laugh; so that had been the plan. Alexander, with his natural people skills, would keep Cecile occupied while his sister searched Damien's study. He made his way over to the study and listened, but couldn't hear anything. What ever she was doing, she was doing it quietly. Damien opened the door and there she was.
Delia had emptied the contents of the center drawer onto the top of his desk and was now carefully picking her way through various objects to find a key. Damien looked around the room, but nothing else seemed out of place. Either she had not yet gotten to the other parts of the study, or she had already searched and put things back where they belonged. Delia was so absorbed in her task that she hadn't looked up when her her father entered the room. Damien cleared his throat and her head jerked up as if it had been pulled by a wire.
"So, Gollum, any luck finding the ring?"
Delia didn't understand the reference, but she stood there defiantly locking eyes with her father.
"I want everything back in the drawer, please, neatly arranged, and the drawer put back in the desk by the time I come back with your brother."
Damien went out to the kitchen where Alexander was helping Cecile with lunch. All three dogs were sitting and staring up at the counter, hoping that Cecile would have some kind of a mishap with the bacon. Alexander was patting his dog on the head, but stopped when Damien came in. One look at his father's face told him that the jig was up.
"Mr. Thorn, I didn't realize that you would be home so early. Joining the children for lunch?"
"Cecile, almuerzo suena maravilloso. Sólo necesito hablar con mis hijos por un minuto. Alexander would join me in my study, please?" He walked back with his father, but once in the room, they discovered Delia gone; but everything, including the drawer, was still on top of his desk.
"She's upstairs, daddy."
Damien made his way up to the third floor, but Alexander streaked by him, intending to get to his sister before their father.
When Alexander found Delia, she had her hands wrapped around the doorknob turning it, and her right shoulder was against the door pushing for all she was worth. She stopped what she was doing and began pounding her fists against the door and kicking it.
No sooner had Damien come around the corner then her frustration level soared.
Panicked, Alexander looked up at his father, "Daddy, please stop Deedle."
Damien picked up his daughter, whom he grabbed in mid-kick, and sat on the floor with her. She bucked in her father's arms, intent on somehow getting through the door. "Delia, stop it."
"But I want in." She turned and looked at her father, "Please, daddy?"
Normally, those two words spoken by Delia with that imploring look in her eyes could get Damien to do nearly anything, but he wouldn't budge on this. "Deedle, no, not this time," he relaxed his grip on her and she went over to her brother.
Alexander, who normally gave up on things quicker than his sister, seemed not to want to let go of this particular bone. He stood at the door and kept turning the knob, as if this time would be the time that the door opened for him. He looked over at his sister, but she was in no more of a position to do anything about their predicament than he was. Her solution, like her brother, was to try the doorknob again.
"Please come here, both of you," Delia and Alexander went to their father, but both looked with longing back at the door. Damien put Alexander in his lap. "I want you to tell me why you want in the room." Both children's eyes lit up since their father usually demanded that they explain why they wanted things before they could do or get them, but Damien shook his head. "You still will not be allowed to go into the room, but I want to know why you want in. Is it because I said you can't?"
"No," Delia shook her head.
"Is it because the door is locked?"
"Locks mean danger for us," Alexander carefully regarded his father.
"But this door is locked."
"It isn't dangerous in there, Damien," Delia turned and looked at the door.
"How do you know?"
Alexander shrugged, "I don't know, I just know."
Damien reached out and tried to assess Delia's and Alexander's emotional states to find out their motivations for getting into the room; however, all he could feel was desire and want, but could not separate out what those wants and desires were. He could go into his children's minds to know what they wanted, he had been able to do that when they were younger, but there was no way to do that now and not have them know what he was doing and that would lead to all kinds of questions that he wasn't quite yet prepared to answer.
Damien had not considered the ramifications of cutting off Delia and Alexander from being inside the chapel, both of whom he had brought into the room before either could talk. Clearly, the children felt the pull of Satan, just as Damien did; but he could satisfy his desire of being closer to his Father with his own knowledge of who and what he was and could delay his own need to be inside the room, Delia and Alexander could not. All the times that Damien had chalked up their longing to be in there due to wanting to do what their father did clearly wasn't the whole story. Damien would have liked nothing more than to let them in, but he couldn't since there was too much risk that the children would say something.
"I want you both to look at me," Delia and Alexander did as they were told. "I misjudged why you want in there, but I can't let you in that room. Do you both trust me?" Both Thorn children nodded. "I promise you that one day you both will go in there, and you will each have your own key and you will be able to come and go in and out of the room whenever you want."
"Really?" Alexander lifted one of his eyebrows.
"Yes, really, I told you that the room belongs to all of us and you and your sister will be in here one day, I promise." Damien thought it best to leave out the fact that he had brought them in as babies.
"Father, why are you home from work?" Delia looked at him and asked the question with such honesty, it prompted Damien to laugh.
"Because you and Alexander possess all the subtly of a heart attack."
Delia frowned, "What does that mean?"
"It means, Junior, that you and the Xandman aren't very tricky," Damien smiled and pulled Delia to him.
"Are we in trouble?"
"Normally, yes, Alexander, you would be. First, you both lied to me and then you tried to do something that you knew I didn't want you to do. I have my own reasons for not punishing either of you, but know that the next time you go behind my back like that, there will be consequences and whenever you feel like you have to be in that room, you come and talk to me, even if it's in the middle of the night."
"When it's night time?" Delia looked at her father with an expression on her face that suggested doing anything else at night except sleeping was crazy talk.
"Yes, Delia, even when it's night time. Even if you are here during the day and you feel the need to be in the room, you get Cecile to call me and I'll talk to you."
"Are you going back to work now?" The preemptive disappointment in Alexander's voice was matched by Delia's frown at the thought of their father having to leave.
"Well, I could, or...I could stay home with both of you."
"Yay, daddy is going to stay home with us!" Alexander clapped his hands and Delia threw her arms around her father.
"Did you two finish the work that I left?" Damien already knew the answer to the question, but he wanted to see what his children would say.
"We did our work first," Delia beamed with pride at the fact that she and her brother had completed the transliteration exercises that Damien had left for them before they had gone skulking around the house.
Damien looked down at Alexander, "Will you please go downstairs and tell Cecile that we will be down shortly to eat lunch? I want to speak with Delia for a minute."
"Okay," Alexander got up and took off down the stairs.
This was not the first time that the children had tried to get into the chapel, but it had been the most frantic. Each had been fueled by the other's desire, but Delia's need had been the greater and without clarifying, Damien knew that it had been she who had gotten Alexander to ask their father because even now, he could feel how much she wanted into the chapel. He pulled her into his lap, kissed to top of her head and without going into her mind, simply felt calmly and radiated it at his daughter and she began to relax and the two of them sat there until she was mellow enough for Damien to stop worrying about her.
Something was up with Delia. She had always been quiet, preferring to be by herself, or with her brother or father, but lately, it had become like pulling teeth to get her play with other children. Even Aaron, Thomas' son and seemingly the only child, minus her brother, with whom Delia enjoyed playing, was persona non grata at the Thorn household. For the past month or so, Damien had pushed her as hard as he dared to try to find out what was wrong, but she would just shake her head. His daughter was only five, but Damien suspected that she had already begun to tap into her true self.
"Delia," she turned and looked at her father. "Tell me what you think is in the room. I sent your brother downstairs so we could have privacy and whatever you say to me, I promise, I won't tell him."
Delia turned to the door and regarded it taciturnly and turned back to her father, but only shook her head.
"You know, you can tell me anything, anytime day or night."
After some more silence, Delia laid her head against her father's chest, "It's special in there, daddy." Her voice was a whisper.
Damien let it go for now. He would have to be more vigilant when it came to his daughter. "More special than you know. Come on, je sais que Cécile a préparé quelque chose de très délicieux pour le déjeuner," both Delia and Damien were now standing.
"Uh-huh," Delia nodded her head. "Grilled cheese with bacon and her homemade tomato soup," but her voice was rife with confusion and a frown now sat on her face.
"¿Qué pasa?"
"Father, what is that?" Delia pointed behind Damien.
He turned, but no sooner did he turn around then his daughter took off down the stairs like she had been shot out of a cannon. "I bet you think I'm tricky now!" Her voice sang up from downstairs and she laughed and he could tell that she was running into the kitchen, where she would wash her hands and join Alexander at the kitchen table.
Damien smiled as he made his way down the stairs. Delia was getting better because that time, he hadn't been able to tell at all that she was lying.
