Julien sat at the kitchen table eating lunch. He stood up when he saw Ellie come into the kitchen. "Ma chère, what are you doing here? Is everything alright?"
Ellie walked up to him, and when he tried to embrace her, she pushed him away. She shoved hard enough to make him take a couple of steps backward.
"No, Julien! Everything is not alright. Everything is horrible, in fact. And it's all down to the conniving little hussy that you hired!"
Julien looked at her like she was speaking Greek. "What are you talking about? Why the aggressive behavior? It is beneath you. Sit down, and let's talk about this like two civilized adults, ma chérie."
"Aggressive? You think this is aggressive? Just wait until I get to that scheming little shrew – then you'll see aggressive." Ellie spat out the words, pacing. "And you know what else? I don't care if you think it's beneath me." She whirled to face him, pointing a finger at his chest punctuating each word. "I. Told. You. So!" She growled through clenched teeth.
Julien reached for her hand as if to soothe her, but Ellie snatched it away and resumed her pacing.
"I have been put on professional leave because the drug dogs alerted on the painting that Tai gave me!" Her voice dripped with angry sarcasm. "It turns out that there was a stash of marijuana hidden inside the canvas. Now, I have an annotation on my professional certificate. I'm being investigated by the police! It's a miracle I wasn't arrested on the spot!" Her hands flew up in fury.
"Rrruhh," she snarled. "After all these years of maintaining a spotless record, just to have your little bimbo assistant ruin it in one fell swoop? I could spit nails! Ellie shouted. "And I'd spit them right into her chest if she were here!" She finished with venom.
She spun around to look at Julien. His face was so white with shock that it looked like guilt. His expression only fueled Ellie's anger. "I told you she was trouble! I told you not to continue to work with her. But, oh no! You had to be the savior, the knight in shining armor out to save the poor little damsel in distress."
She was on a tirade and couldn't stop. Her mouth rounded into a small "o," and she mimicked baby-talk. "You had to show the poor, misunderstood, backwoods little tramp about the world. Did it make you feel good? Did you feel like a hero?" She dropped the sickly-sweet voice. "Well, did it? Because your noble intentions," she raised her eyebrows and emphasized the words, "cost me my profession!"
And with that, Ellie thundered upstairs into the master bathroom and locked the door. The tears that hadn't come in the initial numbness finally broke through her angry façade and coursed down her face in a flood of hot, wet streams. Ellie sobbed. Her shoulders shook. She was furious at herself for crying. She was enraged at Julien for helping others at her expense. She was livid with Tai for being such a sneaky, manipulative hypocrite.
Mainly, though, she was disgusted with herself for not listening to her instincts.
She had felt all along that Tai was trouble, but she had listened to Julien's rationalization and somehow been suckered into believing him. She struggled to get control of herself. She looked in the mirror and wiped her eyes. As she worked to remove the mascara that ran down her cheeks, she noticed a shimmer on her wrist and immediately thought of the anthology. If anything could soothe her spirit and redirect her fierce anger, it was the anthology.
She reached down under the sink, took out the leather-bound anthology, and sat. As she thumbed through the pages, she felt the anger start to seep out of her and into the book. She remembered the funnel of light from the hospital that drained her worries into the book. The pages thrummed with energy, and her fingers flew, seeking a remedy for her tension.
Suddenly, a spark zinged through her index finger and thumb. Her fingers halted. This would be the one; it felt right. Her hungry eyes sought out the words that she had begun to rely on to bring comfort and release. Just as she started to feast on the content, she heard the door knob twist and stick.
Julien hesitated. "Why is the door locked, ma petite?" He asked quietly.
"Because I didn't want you to come in," Ellie retorted. She heard Julien's retreating footsteps a few moments later and went back to her anthology, devouring every morsel of the pages that would help her regain control.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
WAYWARD WINTER
During Ellie's suspension from school, the end of January faded into February. Ellie received several texts from Zyla wanting to know if Ellie was okay and if she could come over to talk. Ellie didn't respond. She withdrew into her anthology.
The ancient book called to her louder than ever, and Ellie began to answer its call amid household chores. She'd put on a load of laundry and stand there, listening to the machine run, reading her book -- telling herself that it would distract her from her worries.
She instinctively hid the anthology from Julien. Each time he entered the room, she'd slip it under whatever was available. She and Julien hadn't really gotten past their argument, but by some unspoken agreement they worked together to hide their angst from the girls.
Zyla peppered Ellie's days with encouraging text messages, telling her that no one believed the drugs were Ellie's and that the school would turn the case over to detectives who'd prove Ellie's innocence. Ellie largely ignored the texts and buried herself in household chores and her anthology.
As the days passed, Ellie grew tired of having to find new and creative ways to keep her book a secret from Julien. In the kitchen, a thought occurred to her; she had originally thought of the concoctions inside the anthology as recipes. Why not hide the recipes in plain sight?
She grabbed her beloved red-and-white-checkered cookbook and took it to her upstairs office. First, she removed the cover and shoved the bulk of recipes in her desk. Then, she slipped the anthology inside the cover, using clear packing tape to fasten the anthology's leather cover securely inside the cookbook's red and white one. She surveyed her work. She thought it would pass inspection if there wasn't too much scrutiny.
Ellie planned the first test of her deception. She made sure she was holding the "cookbook" standing by the stovetop when Julien came in from work. He watched her from the doorway, and when she lifted her eyes to him without any malice in them, he approached her and gave her a tentative kiss on the cheek. She made herself stand without flinching. His eyes grazed over the pot and its contents without even noticing the cookbook.
"Feeling like cooking today, hmm? Isn't that one of those old cookbooks you bought when we married?" Julien asked sniffing the pot.
Ellie closed the book to her chest and faced him. "It is the very first cookbook I ever owned. Look at this old cover. I'm surprised it hasn't fallen apart." She continued. "I thought I'd revisit some of our favorite meals. Do you recognize this dish?" She directed his gaze from the cookbook to the simmering pot.
"Do I detect chiquetaille de morue?" He asked.
"Yes, it's been so long since I've made it, I thought I'd use that recipe from Le Chemise that I stuck in here after our honeymoon." She hesitated. Now was as good a time as any. She took a deep breath.
"You know, Julien, we need to talk about Tai before I get back to work next week. And I think I'm calm enough to discuss her now." She swallowed, waiting on Julien's reaction.
He breathed out through his nose and stepped back. "There is nothing to discuss. She won't be a problem -- for either of us."
Ellie looked at him. That sounded ominous. Was he going to confess to being the last person to see her before she ran away? Did he even know she had run away? She hadn't exactly told him about her encounter with the twins at the church on New Year's.
"Why do you say that?" Ellie asked.
Julien rolled his eyes slightly in irritation. "Because she disappeared, that's why. I haven't seen her since before New Year's. I didn't want to upset you, but you may as well know – all the cash from the register at the studio vanished right along with her. I noticed it around the same time as her disappearance. In fact, I was going to ask her about it, but she never came in
to work that day."
"How much money went missing?" Ellie asked.
Julien sighed again. "I don't know exactly but somewhere around a five hundred dollars. I hadn't really been keeping records; it was petty cash I'd been putting aside to buy props."
"Oh, Julien!" Ellie was stunned. "After investing so much time in helping her." She looked at him in dismay.
"Well, no good deed goes unpunished. I should have been more careful." He paused. "Can you ever forgive me?"
That was the closest he'd ever come to an apology where Tai was concerned, and it was enough. Ellie decided to accept the implied admission of guilt and gave him a reassuring hug. "Of course, sweetheart." Maybe now that Tai was gone, they could truly patch up their marriage.
◆◆◆
As the chilly February days slipped by, things began to resolve. Ellie had returned to work with very little fanfare. Zyla had been right; the detectives had concluded that there wasn't enough evidence to prove who had hidden the drugs behind the painting. It could have been a crime of opportunity committed by anyone with access to Ellie's classroom.
The current working theory was that the cleaning crew - a group of inmates from the local prison who cleaned the school as part of their reformation - had been caught unawares. They'd stashed illicit items wherever they could, desperate to get rid of anything incriminating, and hadn't been able to retrieve their contraband before being loaded into the prison van. It wouldn't be the first time they had been caught hiding things at school. Over the last few years, staff members had found everything from cell phones to razors hidden in the ceiling tiles and other strange places.
Ellie was relieved that her certification was no longer in jeopardy. She and Principal Danvers worked out a deal, of sorts. Ellie had originally wanted a public apology in front of the entire Board of Education. In the end, she settled for the Reverintendent's personal apology, and no annotation to her teaching certificate. She agreed to the arrangement because she knew the rumor of her innocence would spread like crazy – especially when it got out that it could have been the inmates who had committed the crime.
Doubts about Ellie would swiftly change course and target the inmates - and the whole idea of having them service the school. Parents would pitch a fit when they found out. More than likely, the Reverintendent would wind up having to hire a real custodial crew and start paying to have the school cleaned from there on out.
By mid-February, Ellie's injuries were healing. She hobbled less and less each day at school, and her students encouraged her when she had near-falls and setbacks. The one thing they could empathize with was pain. Their concern surprised her. Her teaching was back on track, and she was beginning to feel like she might have finally adjusted to her new life. Her students were progressing, her girls were growing, and her marriage was healing without constant interference from Tai.
Ellie and Julien decided to celebrate Ellie's improved health by going out to dinner on Valentine's Day. They took advantage of their church's "love offering" to parents – free babysitting services so that parents could have a night out. Ellie supposed it was the church's way of supporting healthy marriages, and she was grateful. Even in a small town like Stusa, life could get unbelievably hectic and harried.
That night, Ellie put on Julien's favorite red dress. It was a blood-red, form-fitting wrap-dress; she never could decide if the look suited her or embarrassed her, but Julien liked it, so she wore it to remind him that she could still turn heads. She put on a pair of heels, too. It was the first time since the accident that she'd worn heels, and she hoped she wouldn't come to regret it. She simply felt the need to look attractive again and to feel appreciated, admired.
When she made her way slowly down the staircase, at a pace that she hoped looked sexy rather than sad, Julien gave a low whistle. She didn't know if he was just trying to make her feel better, but it worked. She smiled and blushed. It might be needy to think it, but it felt good to have his approval.
Even the girls got into it, clapping and cheering as she made her way downstairs. Julien gallantly offered her his arm and escorted her to the car. The girls giggled and squealed as he gave her a lingering kiss on the lips after getting her settled and buckled into place.
"Euwww," Bibianne sputtered in between giggles.
"Its's not gross, Bibi. It's how we know papa loves maman even when she is not at her best." Méline corrected.
Ellie smiled. Out of the mouth of babes. Julien looked at Ellie and winked. Ellie didn't mind the reminder that she still wasn't back to normal. She was just glad to be able to enjoy a good, old-fashioned date with her husband.
After dropping off the girls at the church social hall, Ellie and Julien drove to the nicest restaurant one town over. The restaurant was a hidden gem, a bistro and grill tucked away in a hunting lodge. The food was delicious; Ellie ordered the rack of lamb topped with sun-dried tomatoes, olives, garlic and mint, while Julien got the chestnut-dusted, pan-seared lobster ravioli. Since Ellie couldn't have wine considering her still-plentiful daily medications, she splurged and ate the house specialty for dessert – blackberry cobbler topped with homemade vanilla ice cream. It was every bit as good as she had imagined.
Throughout the meal, she and Julien reminisced about their early years. He remembered the incident with Madame Margaux. He could recite Ellie's version of her prediction almost word for word.
When the people buzz like insects, don't lose faith. You will survive the test.
"No, No," Ellie corrected him, laughing. "She didn't use the word interro, test; she used the word creuset, crucible." Ellie chuckled, then cocked her head to one side. "Maybe her prediction has already come true." She drew out each word slowly. "Maybe I've already survived the crucible; I've definitely been through a lot since we moved here."
Julien looked at her with a dash of condescension. "You know there is nothing to all that, Ellie." He chided.
Ellie laughed again. "But think about it -- even the first part fits. The people actually do buzz around here like insects." Ellie was getting into it. "The more I think about it, the more I think she really was predicting my time in Stusa!" It all fit. Madame Margaux might not have been a hoax after all. She reached over and grabbed Julien's wrist.
"You know, there's more to her than you think. I never told you the very first thing she said to me." She paused.
"Why not?" He looked puzzled.
"Well," Ellie blushed, "because it had to do with you. She said I'd marry you and have two kids." Ellie's blush deepened.
"You're making that up just to prove your point," Julien scoffed.
"No, no!" Ellie pleaded. "I'm not! She really did say that! Honest!"
Julien snorted. "Then why didn't you tell me? I mean, you could have told me after we were married."
"Because I didn't want you to think I'd hoodwinked you into marrying me." Ellie's face was nearly purple.
"What? Like you put a hex on me or something? Or paid Madame Margaux to do it?" He laughed.
"Exactly," Ellie whispered. Julien looked at her again, perplexed, and then burst into laughter.
"Oh, Elles, you still amuse me - even after all these years." Ellie was torn between frustration and embarrassment, but then she started laughing, too.
She knew Julien had nothing but disdain for all the island hoodoo-voodoo that tourists couldn't get enough of. She laughed with him; it felt so good to laugh together. Her laughter encouraged his, and vice versa. Before long, they were laughing so hard that other customers began to stare. Julien finally got control of himself and asked for the check before anyone complained.
On the ride home, Ellie sighed. It had been a wonderful evening, but now the dreaded sling awaited her in the glove box. She grudgingly slipped it over her shoulder and onto her arm. She and Julien were riding in comfortable silence when they saw flashing red and blue lights race around them. Julien pulled over onto the shoulder as an ambulance followed, sirens blaring. Ellie's first thought was for her girls.
"I hope nothing has happened at the church," she fretted. "Do you suppose --"
Julien interrupted, "It's not the church – look."
Ellie saw it then, a conglomeration of firetrucks, police cars, and flashing lights in the distance. Julien slowed down as they approached the area. A police officer was standing in the middle of the road with a flashlight, directing traffic. He signaled Julien to stop.
"I'm sorry, sir, but this road needs to be cleared until the first responders depart. You can either wait here or turn around to take highway 171 and skirt this area."
Ellie was shocked. That detour would add an extra forty-five minutes to their drive home. She leaned over. "Are there any short cuts that could get us to Stusa?"
"Plot it on your GPS, ma'am. We have an emergency to deal with here. Just follow 171 and you'll make it back to Stusa by midnight." He tapped the car's hood twice as a signal for Julien to drive on.
Ellie was worried about the girls. The church only provided babysitters until eleven. She pulled out her cell phone to call ahead while Julien navigated the GPS. The church phone rang a dozen times. Ellie was about to hang up when a tearful voice answered, "Happy Valentine's Day, how may I help you?"
"Zibby? Is that you? This is Ellie – Mrs. Pelletier."
"Yes, ma'am. It's me." Zibby sniffled.
"What's wrong? Are Méline and Bibianne okay?" Ellie asked in alarm.
Sniff, sniff. "Yes, ma'am. Your girls are fine." Ellie swallowed the lump in her throat. Zibby continued. "Sacred Heart invited all local church youth groups here for a prayer vigil when they got the news."
A feeling of unease replaced the swift relief. "What has happened, Zibby?"
Zibby cleared her throat. "It's Tai. She's finally turned up, but she's had an accident. They're taking her to the hospital. After all these weeks missing…and now this."
Crucible Crisis Page 24
