by C R Riley
“Don’t encourage him.” Helena’s voice comes from behind us. “He really does not need any. I’m Helena and you must be Miss Cross.”
“I am. I hope I didn’t put any added stress on you by just inviting myself over.”
Helena’s eyes find mine and I can see right away she likes Larkin. “Not at all Miss. Can I offer you a drink?”
“Larkin doesn’t drink.” I put a hand on her back. “So tonight, let’s all have milk and water with our meal. Is that okay with you Larkin?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“Larkin!” A loud shriek comes from the front entry as Isabel runs towards us. She is dressed in her soccer practice uniform still and Beatriz is right behind her.
“Cleats Isabel.” I remind her before she steps onto the carpeted area.
“Sorry.” She drops to the floor and yanks them off without untying them. “I didn’t know you were coming for cena. Tonight, we are having Catalan Chicken. Do you like Catalan Chicken Larkin? Helena’s is the best.”
“I’ve never had it before, but I’m sure I’ll like it.” Larkin informs her.
“Go wash up so we can eat.” I instruct my sister. “I’m sure you are hungry after running all around on the field. I know I am hungry.”
Isabel runs off to the small bathroom just off the kitchen. “Do you like soccer Larkin? I have a game tomorrow night; will you come and watch me? I am very good.”
“Isabel. Apresse se para que possamos comer.” (Hurry up so we can eat.) I holler after her as I lead Larkin to the dining area.
“What does that mean?” She asks me as we walk that way.
“Pare de ser tao mandna irmao. E Larkin sua namorada agora. Voce beija ela? Voce a ama? Voce vai casar com ela?” (Stop being so bossy brother. Is Larkin your girlfriend? Do you kiss her? Do you love her? Do you want to marry her?) The brat shows off her fluency in Portuguese.
“Elle est. Je pense que je pourrais. C’est le plan.” (She is. I think I may. That is the plan.) I reply in French just to determine how well my sister is doing with those lessons.
“Mon frère, le roi a finalement perdu son Coeur a une femme. Ne pas visser en place parce que je l’aime.” (My brother, the King, has finally lost his heart to a woman. Don’t screw it up because I like her.) Isabel sticks out her tongue and then giggles.
“Enough you two.” Helena scolds us. “Larkin please excuse them. They are very much brother and sister and often act out.”
I take my seat next to hers and grab her hand. “Shall we give God grace?”
I do the honors and make sure to keep it in English. When I am done Helena begins to serve us. Once we all have our food, she grabs her empty plate and begins to stand.
“Where are you going?” I ask her. “Sit.”
“I’m sure you all would be more comfortable talking without me. I will eat with Beatriz tonight in her quarters. Leave it all and I’ll be back to put Isabel to bed and clean up. Enjoy.” Helena is gone quickly.
“Sorry about all that earlier. We aren’t used to having someone around who doesn’t speak both Spanish and Portuguese. Both are taught to us not long after we begin speaking. English is the primary language spoken in Hermosa Islas, the others are very common and often mixed in regularly during conversations.” I explain.
“Why English? Wasn’t it a Spanish noble who settle in Hermosa Islas first?” Her knowledge about that surprises me and I guess it shows. “What? I have done my research. Partly done for my work. I need to understood the culture so I can do a better job with my designs.”
“And the other reason?” I encourage her to share.
She glances over at Isabel who is studying us all very carefully. “At the time that was my only reason. So, tell me why English.”
Isabel answers for me. “King Francisco Eduardo Aragon fell in love with a young English noble woman after her family abandoned her when she refused to get back on the boat heading to America. The story says that he found her crying in the streets, begging for food and shelter. Her long red hair and pale skin stood out and he instantly was attracted to her. Ordered her to be brought to the Palace where she would remain. Learned English, even forced his staff to learn English. And when the Queen died after giving birth to his second child, he married her. He is the first King believed to have ever married for love. His gift to her as his new Queen was to make English the official language and require everyone to learn and speak it fluently. The King only spoke English from that point on.”
Larkin raises her eyebrows. “He moved her into the Palace? So that means she was his …” She leaves it as an open-ended question.
Isabel whispers. “Mistress? Yes. Whatever that means.”
I’m relieved to know she is still innocent in matters concerning subjects like that. Although I don’t believe she would be if my father were still alive. She’d know exactly what a mistress was. I know I did by her age.
“I think it means he loved her, but wasn’t supposed to love her since he already had a wife.” She continues to share her philosophy. “Which is why I believe no one should be forced to marry someone they don’t love. Do you agree Larkin? When you finally marry, will it be for love?”
“It will.” Larkin answers quickly. “So now everyone learns English, Spanish and Portuguese. Don’t you find that confusing?”
We both shrug.
“I never really thought much about it. My mother would speak all three to us. Say something in English then repeat it in Spanish or Portuguese. In school most of us learn also French, since a large number of our citizens have lineage that can be traced back to them. Two of our Kings married French noble women who brought a number of servants with them. They often married locals and eventually became citizens. I think once you learn one language it’s easier to pick up another. I am fluent in all three as well as Italian and Latin.
“La mia luna, sei la luca che illumine le mie tenebre. You, mi lunaita are the light that fills my darkness. La luce che non sapevo che er la fuori fino a quando lo vidi. The light I never knew was out there until I caught sight of it. La mia luce che rimarra con me per sempre e per sempre. My light that will remain with me always and forever.”
“Who knew my brother, who is often called the Blind King, could be so romantic. May I please be dismissed? I need to shower before bed and finish my homework.” Isabel sighs. “Can you come to my game Larkin?”
“I wish I could Isabel, but my parents are coming to visit. I haven’t seen them for several months because I was living in Mexico City for a year before I moved here.” She lets my sister down lightly. “Maybe next time.”
“I understand.” Isabel stands. “Goodnight.”
“Excuse me.” I stand as well. “I need to see her to her room and let Helena know she is ready for her.”
“I’m not a baby Antonio. I’m capable of turning on the shower and getting myself ready for bed.” She rolls her eyes and then giggles when I grab her and toss her over my shoulder.
“And we have a routine that will not be broken Princess Isabel. Make yourself at home I’ll be back soon.” And off we go with a giggling princess bouncing over my shoulder.
“You love her.” Isabel whispers in my ear as she tries to pull herself up. “She’s very pretty.”
“I think so.” I tell her. “For now, though she is just my girlfriend. So no more teasing about love and all that stuff, okay. I don’t want to scare her off; I want her to want to stay. This life we live Isabel is not for everyone, so we have to show Larkin she can fit in. That our family accepts her for who she is and that we will teach her everything she needs to know. She gets nervous about certain things, like being in the public eye and on display for all to see. Do you think you can help me think of ways to help with that?”
“She loves you too.” She giggles when I roll my eyes. “She does. I can see it when she looks at you. Love Antonio will be all it takes to help her see this is where she belongs. Just love her. Show her you love her. Tell her that you love her
. If you do that Antonio then it will be enough and all will work out as it should.”
My sister’s faith in love and happily ever after is nice. I hope she is right since I plan on doing just that.
Chapter 19
Larkin
I start picking up our plates and taking them into the kitchen. I’ve always cleaned up after myself, so doing it now makes this all feel normal.
Normal is a word that has had a double meaning to me. I’ve never really felt normal, like I fit in with those around me. I was able to pretend to fit in I guess when I had to. At work I was able to do my job and do it really well. Sometimes being eccentric can be a good thing when you do what I do for a living. It takes a special type of person to be able to see features others don’t necessarily see. Appreciate the lines, angles, and curves that make up a building. Understand what the architect was thinking when he/she designed it. Not everyone can fix someone else’s work without altering it completely. I happen to be able to look at an old building and get entranced by it. Start to feel the mindset of the person who originally designed it and then I am able to restore it, while at the same time improving it, making it possible for others to appreciate it for many years to come.
My normal was to get through each day without letting anyone ever really see me. To hide behind the veneer that presented me as a functional person who didn’t constantly worry, she was going to mess something up. In small groups I was at my best. I could easily talk about my work, or defend it when needed. This last week defending it was getting rather old and tiresome though.
When the day ended, my normal was going home to the only place I felt safe, where no one else was and I could sit back and sketch. I wasn’t a social person. I socialized at work when I had to. Work gave me more than enough interaction each day. My solitary life had always been what relaxed me these last five years after Randal’s departure. I counted on my time alone, where I just let the silence lull me in to get my creative mind flowing. During my time I would either work on a current project or permit myself to create all on my own. Both were easy for me to get lost in, and before I knew it hours would pass and I’d have stayed up way later than intended.
So saying I feel normal doing this, sounds strange to me. Everything about all of this feels strange, but not so strange that I want to run.
I should want to run, because everything about my life, all the things that once made me feel safe, will no longer be something I can count on. Antonio’s life is the complete opposite of mine, yet I find that it—this—for now feels normal.
I hear the front door open and close again quickly, followed by footsteps. I am almost done putting everything in the drying rack. After doing a quick search I was even able to locate a container to place the leftovers inside of. I’m not sure they eat leftovers, do other people eat the same meal for days like I have done most of my adult life. Freeze extra food, so when one doesn’t feel like cooking, you can just pull out an already homemade meal instead of having to order out.
“Miss Cross, you shouldn’t have done that.” Helena chastises me from the kitchen door. “I said I’d take care of it when I returned.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that when Antonio said make yourself at home, I guess I took him literally. I meant no disrespect ma’am.” I wipe my hands off on a dishtowel.
The woman covers her mouth with her hand; I think to conceal her grin. “It’s plainly Helena Miss, and if King Antonio told you to make yourself at home, then that is exactly what you should have done. Never apologize Miss Cross for doing something that makes you feel happy.”
“Okay.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything Miss.” Helena steps closer and grabs a dishtowel then begins drying the dishes I just washed.
“Do you have a night off? A night when Antonio and Isabel are on their own, responsible for feeding themselves. If not that’s fine. I just thought maybe if you did, that if you didn’t mind me using your kitchen, I could possibly cook for them. If that is not too much trouble that is. I don’t want to mess things up. I’m sure you have a schedule that you like to stick with so I understand how important that is. So, if it’s not, then just say so and I’ll understand.” Wow I sound like a babbling idiot.
“Breathe honey. If you want to cook dinner all you have to do is let me know. I can even make sure to have all the ingredients available for you if you provide me with a list.” Helena tells me as she puts items away. “I don’t really have a night off. Sometimes the two of them like to fend for themselves, so I let them. I am an employee Miss Cross, so I do as my employer instructs me to do.”
I take a seat at the counter. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m not familiar with how all this works. I hope I’m cut out for this. I’m not sure I am. Afraid I might be getting in over my head. Terrified I’ll let Antonio down. I just want to make him happy, want to be happy. I haven’t been truly happy for a little over five years now. Not since a very dear friend of mine …” The tears begin to roll down my cheek. “I’m sorry. Please excuse me.”
What am I doing opening up like that to a perfect stranger? I’ve never just went off like that before to someone I just meet only hours ago. This poor woman does not need to see me acting a fool.
Large arms capture me from behind and everything inside me breaks. I shudder like I never have before. My entire body gives out on me as a loud wail escapes from deep down inside. I have been holding myself together for five years, not once really able to let go like I feel my body doing now.
Why now?
I’ve cried so many tears for my friend. Gotten angry over it. Threw things when I was alone and yelled at him for not opening up to me sooner. Cursed him for making me feel unworthy and not being enough for him to at least fight. For not giving me the chance to understand his true feelings and leaving me. What he did, how he did it, broke me in ways he will never understand or be able to fix.
So why am I know melting down and letting it all out in front of a man I don’t want to disappoint. A man that makes me feel things I never knew possible. My sentiments for this man scares me, because I know for certain that if he ever walked away, left me willingly, I’d never fully recover.
“Shhh.” Antonio murmurs in my ear, as he allows his body to crumble with mine. “Helena, could you go see that Isabel gets to bed and stays there.”
Oh crap, I totally forgot about Helena. What she must think of this broken woman her powerful King has taken a liking too.
“As you wish Your Majesty. Take care of that one Sir. She is a treasure and a gift. Well worth fighting for in my professional opinion. Goodnight Miss Cross.” After all that I hear her feet shuffle down the hall.
“Shhh.” Antonio’s body shifts and I end up between his legs, nuzzled against his chest. “Tell me about him.”
I shake my head no. I don’t dare talk about him.
“Tell me Larkin. What has dimmed the light of mi lunaita? Why do you cry for him?” The sincerity of his words, his concern, touches me deeply.
“He was my best friend, my only friend really. The only person that made me feel like I wasn’t some bizarre person.” I start with that.
“Others did not make you feel like that. Why? You are the most incredible woman I have ever met.” He kisses the top of my head. “I came alive the day I saw you.”
“The day he died.” I close my eyes. “He came by to celebrate me getting into grad school. Randal was also an architect, very talented. But he told me that my talents made him look like the amateur, the apprentice he would always joke. Encouraged me to never let someone change me and to always create the ideas that were deep inside of me. Urged me to continue painting to get my creative juices flowing, use that as my outlet when I had trouble focusing. He loved my paintings. Said that if I weren’t such a talented architect, one who could perceive into the past, that my art could have paid the light bill easily.”
“I’d like to see some of your work.” Those
words hit me hard.
“I stopped painting five years ago. Haven’t picked up a brush since that awful night. The last canvas I painted was for him. One I planned on giving to him for his birthday. It was a surprise. I finished it an hour before he called me and then jumped in front of an L-train.” The tears soak my cheeks as I vividly recall that moment.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers and there is emotion behind his words.
“He was acting so strange that night. Kissed me in my kitchen for the very first time. It was unlike any kiss I had ever experienced before. He told me he should have done it sooner. Said it ruined him. Confessed he loved me, really loved me. Wanted me to promise him a few things that at the time made no sense to me. Wanted me to finish my schooling and continue doing what I loved. Not a very hard promise to keep for me. It kept my mind from always thinking about what I lost that day. He also wanted me to never lose who I was. That one was harder, because I couldn’t really be me without him around to support me.” I lose it again.
“Awe. He did not make you Larkin. Perhaps he encouraged you, but we all are whom we are all on our own. That fiery woman who has put me in my place more than once, that woman is the one who caught my eye. She takes no bull from any man, and her bark is way bigger than her bite.” He tilts my head up. “Were you that way with him?”
“Yes. He always knew when I was holding back and would goad me until I would come out firing. Make me get it all out and laugh at me most of the time while I was doing it. Don’t get any ideas?” I warn him.
The corners of his lips curl upwards. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I believe I have a completely different kind of reaction when you go off on some tyrant.”
Dumb and clueless me had to ask. “What kind of reaction do you have?”
The fire in his eyes heats up my core and makes my belly get that funny sensation deep down inside of it. “The tiger inside of me comes alive.”
