Chapter 60
Phelan was several houses down when Julia burst through the front door and wildly stared at me from the top step.
"Erik," she breathlessly called out.
I crossed the street and met my wife at the door, seeing for the first time how distressed she appeared. I unclipped Bessie's leash while Julia closed and locked the door behind me.
"I've been worried sick about you. Do you have any idea what hour it is?" Julia asked before I could ask why she was still awake.
As soon as Bessie was free from her leash, she took one last look at me and scurried down the hall to Lisette's bedroom, apparently wanting no part of Julia's tongue-lashing.
I turned my attention from the hook on the wall where I kept the dog's leash to the clock in the foyer and realized it was three in the morning.
"I thought it was closer to one," I answered. "I apologize if you stayed up on my behalf."
"I am awake because Lissy had a nightmare and walked into the kitchen expecting to find you composing. When she didn't see you there, she ran up to our room and realized you and the dog were missing. It took an hour for me to convince her that you were simply out for a walk and would return soon. Thankfully she fell asleep on her own."
I paused with my back to Julia. Bessie walked out of Lissy's room and into Alex's before she appeared once more in the hallway and trotted off toward the kitchen, most likely in search of Lisette.
"Another monster?"
"She wouldn't tell me, but she's in our room for the night," Julia said. "With you and Bessie missing, she didn't want to sleep alone. I didn't have the heart to send her back downstairs, not with how upset she appeared."
I nodded. "I will sleep in Lisette's room if you want to keep her with you," I offered.
Julia rubbed her eyes and shook her head. "That is not the point."
"I understand."
"I don't think you do," Julia snapped. She looked away quickly and wrapped her arms across her body. "Erik, it is not my place to question where you venture or issue orders, but I am asking you to please reconsider these...walks...so late into the night," she continued, keeping her voice considerably lower.
I turned to fully face my wife and studied her for a long moment. The way in which she closed herself off despite standing within arm's reach deeply troubled me as I knew from the arguments in her previous marriage-most of which were one-sided-that Louis left late at night and frequently stayed away for days with various women. On the occasions in which Julia dared question where he had been, Louis made certain that she was silenced and reprimanded for asking why he was not home with his family.
Julia snorted in disgust and stormed off toward the kitchen and I followed behind her.
"As I said, I did not realize the hour," I attempted to explain as I stood with my hands gripping the door frame above my head. "But you know I often take walks late at night. If I did not, we would never have met five years ago," I pointed out, attempting to keep the conversation light.
"Five years ago it was different." She looked at me from the corner of her eye and rummaged through the cupboard for a glass. "Five years ago you had your home and I had mine. Now you have a wife and two children who expect to wake up in the morning and find you home."
"If you wish to know where I have been, then you are more than welcome to ask. I have no secrets from you, Julia."
"Where have you been?" she quietly asked without meeting my eye.
"I walked to the gallery," I told her. "To see the exhibit with no one else around. My only intention was to familiarize myself with Phelan's work before we attended together."
"To the gallery?"
"After Claude said that my brother's work is very dark, I decided I did not want to be surprised when we attended, particularly if his work had anything to do with our parents' home."
Julia looked over her shoulder at me. She appeared surprised and somewhat relieved by my admission.
"Why didn't you tell me when you returned from playing cards?" she asked as she filled a glass with water and leaned against the sink.
"Honestly I thought I would be out for fifteen minutes and didn't think it warranted explanation. I also did not think you were still awake when I returned from the Lowry's and did not want to trouble you."
"You were gone much longer than fifteen minutes. I heard the front door open and close, but by the time I grabbed my robe and walked to the front door, you were nowhere in sight. You had me worried sick."
"I was gone much longer than I intended because I saw Phelan on the street when I was about to leave the gallery. He asked me for a critique of his work, which turned into a brief conversation before he was cordial enough to open the gallery and allow me a moment to see his paintings," I explained, leaving out the part where Bessie had wandered off. "I did not want to leave once we started speaking."
"Was that Phelan I saw with you across the street?" Julia asked.
I nodded and shrugged out of my overcoat, which I started to fold and place over the back of a chair, but Julia took it from me. "We talked much longer than I anticipated."
"Good conversation, I hope?"
"Better than it has been. He was far more forthcoming than previous encounters."
"Perhaps he does not desire an audience and is more at ease speaking with you alone."
"Perhaps." I paused and thought a moment. "December the twenty-eighth. That has significance to me now."
Julia furrowed her brow. "I beg your pardon?"
"My birthday."
"Your birthday? I always thought it was in June."
"Madeline assigned the eighteenth of June as my birthday long ago, but the true date of my birth is in December. Phelan remembered when I was born and how he cared for me as an infant."
At last Julia offered a smile and stepped close enough to put her arms around me. "I suppose that means you will have a second cake this year," she teased.
"Of course," I answered. "With any luck Phelan will confirm my birthday is on the twenty-ninth and there will be a third cake."
Julia's smile widened. She emptied the rest of her glass into the sink and walked back down the hall to the foyer where she hung up my coat. "I'm glad you had the opportunity to speak to one another," she whispered. "And honestly, I was not accusing you of philandering, but it worries me when you're out in the middle of the night."
I kissed the top of her head and chortled at her words. "Philandering? Is that truly what you think?"
Julia pursed her lips and blushed. "I am a jealous wife."
"What on earth would I do with Bessie on these unseemly excursions?"
Julia shook her head. "I suppose you do not have time for entertaining a woman when you are out with your favorite girl," she said against my chest as she entwined her fingers with mine.
"You have my word, Madame Kire, that I will be more attentive to the hour in which I walk the dog and I have no interest in philandering. You have my full and undivided attention. Shared with Bessie, of course."
Julia snorted. "Of course."
"Papa?" We both turned at the same time to find Lisette hurrying down the stairs with Bessie at her side.
"Lissy, what's wrong?" Julia asked.
"I heard Papa's voice," she answered. "I thought it was a dream, and I wanted to see if he really returned home with Bessie."
"Always," I answered.
She rubbed her eyes, drying tears away in the process. "You will not leave again tonight, will you?" she warily asked.
"No, I will not leave again tonight, I promise."
"Were you lost?" Lisette yawned. "Did Bessie find the way back home?"
Bessie wagged her tail at the sound of her name and turned in a circle.
"She was instrumental in finding the way back," I replied. "And after a very long evening, I do believe Bessie is exhausted."
"I am very sleepy." Lisette yawned again. "Would you carry me and Bessie to our room?"
Julia placed her hands on her hips. "You look awake enough to walk to your room on your own, young lady."
Lisette ignored her mother's observation and blinked at me with doe-eyed innocence that, much to my chagrin, cowed me instantly. While I was largely immune to Alexandre's begging, I found myself unable to deny Lisette's request to be carried back to her room. The power of a nine year-old girl was inexplicably hypnotizing, and at once I became her obedient servant. Years-many long years-of demanding an opera house be run at my specifications, of terrorizing the fools who thought they owned and operated a theater, and I was now at the mercy of my daughter's whim.
"I...I suppose this one timeā¦" I stammered.
"Lissy," Julia sternly warned. She shot me a look and shook her head at my inability to deny our daughter's request.
"I'll walk you to your room," I offered, not daring to look in Julia's direction as I spoke. Her hard sigh was proof enough of her feelings.
Lisette shrugged and looked from me to Bessie. "Come on, girl," she said before she skipped down the hall with Bessie on her heels. A moment later I heard a soft thud as she jumped into bed and the scratch of Bessie's nails against the rug as she performed her nightly ritual of digging an imaginary bed of her own.
"You spoil her," Julia said with a shake of her finger.
"I'll be upstairs in a moment," I replied, making no attempt to deny my wife's observation.
By the time I reached her bedroom, Lisette had already fluffed her pillows and pulled the covers up to her chin. She purposely sat up and kicked her coverlet down to her feet when I walked into the room.
"Your mother said you had a difficult time sleeping?" I asked as I pulled the covers back up and tucked her in. "Monsters again?"
"Yes, terrible monsters."
"May I ask what happened?"
Lisette hesitated and grasped tightly to the coverlet with both fists. At first I thought she did not wish to speak of whatever woke her, but as I stood beside her bed, I realized she was attempting to hold back tears.
"If it upsets you-" I started to say.
"They took Bessie," Lisette blurted out. "The monsters stole her and buried her under the house and she could not dig her way back out. I could hear her cries getting more and more faint, and no matter what I did, I could not find her." She reached down over the edge of the bed and ran her hand along the dog's spine. "I could not find you or Mother, and I was not quick enough to save poor Bessie. I woke up...and...and I know it was not real, but Bessie was missing and I thought someone had taken her away."
My heart sank at the thought of Lisette frantically searching for the dog in the middle of the night. In her knowing way, Bessie put her front paws up on the bed and licked Lisette's face to soothe her upset companion.
"No one will ever take Bessie away. I would not allow anyone to hurt you, Bessie, or anyone else beneath my roof," I assured her as I sat on the edge of her bed.
"I know. It was a silly dream," Lisette said as she bowed her head. "That could not really happen, could it?"
"I do not think it was silly at all. It does not matter if it could or could not happen. Some dreams are still frightening even when you wake."
Wide-eyed, Lisette nodded. "I didn't want to sleep without Bessie."
"I understand why you were upset and I would have looked for her as well if I had woke from a nightmare such as yours. You have my most sincere apologies for worrying you. I can tell already that she will not leave your side for the remainder of the night."
"Where did you and Bessie walk?" Lisette asked. She slowly turned onto her side and clutched her arms around her pillow.
I inhaled and tapped my fingers against my knee. "There is a gentleman visiting from out of town who has art on display in a gallery. We walked to the gallery and back."
"Why so late?"
"I suppose I was a bit impatient and wanted to see the paintings tonight rather than waiting until tomorrow."
"You and Alex are the same." Lisette grinned and wrinkled her nose. "Is the artist a friend of yours?"
I shook my head, unsure of how to describe Phelan. "Not at this time."
Lisette closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Do you want to be friends with him?"
"I would," I said without thinking. "Perhaps at some point."
"Why not now?"
"We do not know each other well enough, I suppose, but in time I would appreciate his friendship. We have several traits in common."
"Such as you are both artists in your own way?"
"Yes, that is very true." Surly, disagreeable artists at that.
"Then you should ask him to be your friend," Lisette suggested quite matter-of-factly. "He might want to be your friend as well, but he doesn't know how to ask you."
I grunted at her words. We were more alike than either of us wished to admit, and given those similarities, any sort of relationship, whether it was as friends or family, would not come easily. "You have given me excellent advice tonight. I will consider your words the next time I see the artist."
"I will ask him for you if you want. Then your new friend can come to our house and Mother will make you both cookies and you can play cards together. Wouldn't that be lovely?"
"That is very considerate of you to offer."
She smiled with her eyes still closed and pointed at her forehead. "Papa?"
"Yes, Lisette?"
She pointed at her forehead again. "Kiss to keep the monsters away. Mother forgot earlier."
I bent and gently kissed her forehead. "Sleep well."
"Here," she said as she sat up again and motioned for me to bend a second time. I wordlessly did as she requested, expecting a request for a second kiss when instead she brushed her lips against my left temple and patted my shoulder.
"There," she said as she flopped back down. "In case Mother forgets to give you a kiss."
