All of These Things (6 page)

Barefoot, she meanders slowly to the back of the couch and kisses the top of my head.

“Thanks, Alec. We owe you our lives. I mean that. Don’t go. Stay in a spare room and get some rest,” she says. I don’t think I’ve ever heard such an earnest request from her before.

“Of course. Good night, Sofie.”

Jason squeezes my shoulder before following Sofie upstairs. Alec moves to occupy her seat next to mine, leaving sufficient leg room between us. I’m agitated, repeatedly flexing my fingers and making fists. I’m embarrassed, knowing he saw bits of my writhing, naked body. I feel inert and dizzy with confusion. Things could have been worse. Things could have spiraled into disastrous circumstances.

“Tell me again why you came back here,” I beseech.

“Truthfully?”

“Yes.”

“I was restless. I was too disquiet for sleep and contemplated returning here to ask you for a walk. Needless to say, I’m very glad I did.”

His revelation calms me, but I know I should be more alarmed.

“If memory serves me correctly, Sofie drinks her coffee out on the porch every morning. So, I also thought you could find this when you joined her,” he says, standing abruptly and treading into the kitchen. He returns with a paper, rolled and tied with string.

“What’s this?”

“From me to you.”

“For me? Really?”

“Of course. But show me some compassion, love. I didn’t exactly have ample time to make it completely worthy. But I will. In the future, I will.”

Future.
I’m beyond curious, sliding the cord off and stretching the paper out. It’s a sketch; a beautiful drawing of...
me
.

“Is this—”

“You? Yes,” he cuts in. “You were radiant by the fire, and while I debated returning here, I drew the lovely siren I had the pleasure of meeting tonight.” He points to the sketch. “You might as well have been the only scenery, Caroline.”

I’m flooded with warmth, and I’m suddenly aware of my heartbeat, as though it’s in my ears. He’s enchanting. I don’t remember ever describing a man as such, but Alecsander allures me. I’m enthralled, and his charm is arresting and commands attention.

“This is beautiful,” I say. “She’s too pretty to be me, Alec. You’re imagining things.”

“I didn’t imagine enough. You are even more unforgettable than I ever perceived.”

I’m mindful of his accent, again. He’s handsome, yes. Quite handsome, actually. But he’s also eloquent, talented, and sensitive in a rough, unpolished way. Hardly unkempt, his appeal is a tousled display of simplicity and a sophisticated gentleman. I can’t look at him for too long, and I’m bothered by how he can hold a gaze.

“You must be tired, love.”

“You’d think, right? I’m not, though. I suppose it’s the adrenaline,” I say, and manage a laugh. “Alec, there was this period of time—albeit a short one—that my mother would leave me home alone and sometimes she forgot to come back at night, but nothing ever happened to me. And, here, tonight—where everything’s calm and beautiful—I’m attacked and almost raped or even killed.”

He shudders. Alec leans forward placing his forearms over the tops of his legs.

“I was too tired and shocked to understand or react. You changed my fate, Alec. You and this drawing. You saved me. Thank you.” I’m practically whispering, and his head turns towards me. He gulps, and I see his eyes widen at my indebtedness as if uncomfortable.

“I’m glad I was here, Caroline. Do you need anything else?”

“No, and Sofie wants me up there. Plus, I really have to go and dunk my body in bleach.” My voice quakes, choked with tears.

“Alright. Sweet dreams, then. I’m here if you need me.”

“Sweet dreams, Alec.” I raise the furled gift, pressing it against my heart. “I love the drawing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Caroline.”

Chapter Seven

My eyes flutter open, wishing for the middle of the night instead of early afternoon. Besides a lingering headache, my arms and shoulders are painfully sensitive, and the rest of my body is tender. I close my eyes again to adjust my vision and adapt to the streaming sunlight coming from the master bathroom. It’s fairly dark and quiet in here, and I know Sofie isn’t next to me anymore.

College kids.

They were monstrous amateurs cruising the town and causing havoc. But they planned it so well. They watched us gathering outside and selected our house as their pit stop. I summon my muscles to work together, mustering my limbs and head to rise from the cushy, warm bed. Who am I fooling? I’m deprived of energy, but my coherence is urged on by basic logic. A hot bath can relax this tension, although my will is drained by an encumbering headache. I defeat it, walking unsteadily to the main bathroom in the hall.

My toiletries have marked the space as my personal territory, and it’s perfect because I’ve always admired clawfoot bathtubs. I run hot water from a pretty, vintage-semblance faucet and gather my essentials for relaxation. Its Sofie’s recipe—lavender seeds, rose and almond oils. I gully out a pressing bladder as I wait for the tub to fill, doing away with my nightwear for a short, terrycloth robe.

Pushing the memories to the far end of my mind, I manage through the motions. Recalling the break-in stirs further anxiety and panic. The events induce a gag, making me retch. I’m overcome by the disgusting reality that I was assaulted, and I wish the scenes replaying in my head are from some cop show. Finally, I’m touched by something else, submerged in a healing cloak of fragrant, liquid heat.

I close my eyes quickly, but realize I can fall asleep and drown. I’ve never felt restless and numb at once. It’s a drowsy state of confusion, and my eyelids are heavy. It’s difficult to stay awake.

“Shit. Caroline! You scared me.”

What the hell.

“I came up to check on you, but you were gone. Why didn’t you come down before taking a bath?” Sofie’s reprimanding voice is a jolt nudging me back to the present.

“I don’t know. I figured you were somewhere downstairs. I heard clamouring from the kitchen and... I don’t know, Sofie. I just needed a bath.”

“But you showered just before coming to bed.”

Is there a water ration I’m unaware of?

“So? I need a bath. I’m sore, and I still feel disgusting.”

She moseys over to my side and sits on a plush bath rug. This was not what I had in mind. I haven’t treated the water with bubble bath, and I’m completely exposed. It’s spoiling my attempt for calm, and now I’m twitchy and agitated.

“Please, Sofie. Do you mind? I need privacy. Could you go? I’m sorry I didn’t come down, but I’ll be there soon.”

Oh, she is absolutely exasperating.

It’s as though I didn’t say a word because Sofia-Marie makes herself more comfortable.

“
Sofie
. Out!”

“Oh, you’re such a baby. God, you can be such a prude. Fine! I’ll go. But at least you’re talking.”

I flinch.

“I’m out on the porch, and the coffee’s fresh.” She rises.

She did
not
just say that. My inner child is roused, and she’s glowering daggers at me in a petulant huff of bad temper. No, I am not letting Sofie get away with that. Not this time, you can count on that.

How dare she?

Don’t I have enough to deal with today? Bath time is
so
over. I fly up and spring out of the tub, slipping on the robe and stomping to the staircase. I see her exactly where she said she would be.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that! How dare you? What exactly are you trying to insinuate, Sofie?”

I watch her pull in a breath and release it straight away. Her lips press together, and her arms cross under her breasts.

“What are you going on about?”

I don’t notice Alec behind me during my rant until now. I move away from the threshold, allowing him to exit onto the porch.

“Hello, Caroline. I hope you slept well.”

“Yes, thank you.”

My bare feet shuffle in place, and I’m embarrassed by my seething and somewhat childish display. I pull at the collar of my robe, assuring nothing escapes it, and my chest caves as I clear my throat.

“I’m sorry. I forgot you were still here.”

“I left earlier but returned just after one o’clock. May I bring you tea… or coffee?”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll grab a cup on the way up,” I assert, turning on my heel and stalking off to the kitchen.

I find a large mug in the cabinet above the coffee machine, prepare myself a cup, and snatch a banana from a bowl. As I march past the front door, Alec watches me head for the stairs.

“Caroline, come out here!” Sofie yells from the porch swing. She hasn’t even budged—like I’m the one that’s in the wrong.

“Later!” I holler back, looking forward to clothing my damp and almost naked body.

I finish my fruit as I poke around in the drawers and head to the closet, choosing a belted paisley shirt dress. I wobble as I dress, and my movements make me lightheaded. I slip my feet into flip flops, and free my hair from a high ballerina bun. It’s not completely dry from my late night shower, but the subtle waves make it seem like I could have tended to it.

I pat a faint, pink-bronze eyeshadow on my lids before applying lip gloss. My pout looks larger in luminous nude, and I imagine my mother challenging that. My alabaster skin is rosier than usual from yesterday’s tan, and I finish my coffee as I study my reflection.

The colour drains from my face when the asshole’s words echo through my mind. I was so close to being totally violated. The idea that his voice will irk me until I die makes me sick and furious. But I’m in control of how far that goes.
I am in control—not him
, I repeat to myself. I must remember that, but for right now, I need to speak to Sofie and clear the air.

I see her as I descend, composed and talking to Alec. He’s not in my vision, so I assume he’s still seated on the top step. The main door is ajar, and I approach it but stand immobilized behind the screen separator.

“What happened to her was scary, Alec, and I just don’t want her pulling back,” she says. “Caroline spent a long time like that—in her own world—a bubble that just popped one day, and she slowly started talking again. How could I not worry that it wasn’t happening for a second time?”

That sour taste in my throat is back. I should walk away to regain my composure, but I can’t move. My bottom lip and chin quiver, and I’m not sure if I’ll cry or scream. Maybe I need to do both.

“How dare you!” I growl, heat flushing through my body. “You’re telling a stranger about my life. What business is it of his? I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you, Sofie! I’m so mad at you right now, I can’t even look at you. You’re such an inconsiderate bitch, sometimes.”

Sobs trap in my throat, but my eyes gush uncontrollable tears. It feels like time has stopped, but at the same time, everything is on fast-forward, and the sound of my heart pumps in my ears.

“Caroline?” Sofie walks cautiously to me. Alec is on his feet, too, and I’m humiliated.

“Caroline, I was just worried. It was stupid, okay. Yes, I’m a stupid, inconsiderate bitch, but I swear I was worried. I’m still worried. This break-in messed me up, too, so I was nervous about what it could do to you. That’s all. I wasn’t betraying you. I wasn’t! I just needed to be sure I could help you deal with it.”

“That was a long time ago, Sofie. I was five! It’s an entirely different situation, and you should know me well enough to have some faith in my reactions. I’m not as weak as you think.”

There’s pounding in my head. I can feel the veins and vessels constricting as blood drives through them. I can’t do this. I can’t argue now.
Oh my head
. I want to rip it off my shoulders. I press at each side of my temples and feel like there’s no stable ground under my feet.

“Look at me, Caroline,” Alec says, coming into view. “You’re dizzy, love. I think you should sit down.”

“No, it’s just this blasted headache. Don’t worry, Sofie,” I say, looking up at her intently. “I’m not going mute.”

“Oh, shut up, Care! I’m not even thinking about that, now. Come over to the swing. Sit down, and I’ll bring you some water.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Fuck, are you ever
stubborn
. I’m getting water,” she says, barging past me and into the house.

“Caroline, is it possible you hit your head? You weren’t going down without a fight. I saw you, love. Maybe you were hurt in the process.”

I know what he’s trying to do. Even if I am incapable of thinking, I can detect his purpose. Alec’s trying to convince me that I’m not weak and pathetic, and somehow this makes me feel even more vulnerable.

He closes in, an arm around my waist, but I don’t need his support.

“I said I’m fine, Alec. Really, I am.”

Of course, my body decides to give up on me, and I’m about to plunge and crash to my knees if not for his swift, powerful arms.

“Alright, sweetheart. Change of plans.”

He swings me up from behind the knees, and I’m in his arms against his chest. My face is in the crook of his neck, and I’m not so jumbled that I can’t relish his scent once more.

“You need to go to the hospital, Caroline.”

“What happened?” I hear Sofie before I see her.

“She almost fainted. Shall you drive or I? She needs a doctor.”

“I’ll grab my purse and keys.
Shit.
Caroline will need her purse, too. I’ll meet you at the car.”

Nathaniel’s Correspondence with Dr. Toussaint

Tell me, Dr. Toussaint, if you think it was clear to me straight off the bat why Caroline’s biological father ran off? The coward recognized the danger-signs of being with someone like Amalia and couldn’t even do right by his unborn child. Well, better for me. Let’s just say there always was something atypical sneaking up to the surface, but at the same time, I was too captivated by Amalia to weigh the meaning of it all. I remember my business partner, Anthony Parrotta, asking me when it was that I became a sucker for a damsel in distress. He got on my last nerve many a time, and we even broke into a raw fight over Amalia. We pretend like it’s water under the bridge because, in the end, he was just concerned for me—as was my sister, Mara, and everyone else in my life who thought I was making a grave mistake. I was apprehensive about how it would all turn out but never
ever
had it crossed my mind to let her go. What sense would that make, anyway, if I was only going to miss and ache for that woman?

I’m not an idiot. I knew there would be unique complications spoiling our union. But the fact is, I’d have both grieved and yearned for her if I’d let Amalia go, so in that way she remained in my life. What would it all be for? What would be the point of letting her go and going back to the life I had before I met her, if memories of her would squeeze that life right out of me? Walking away was never an option. It was too late for that. The toll she had on me was instant, and Amalia had a staunch place in my life from the day I met her. Did I ever tell you about that day?