Book Reviews, My Books, and Whatever….

            Susan took her place behind her friends on the bleachers.  She glanced at the scoreboard.  Good!  Her school was ahead in the second quarter, and everyone was screaming with excitement.  She didn’t understand the mechanics of football, but she enjoyed the camaraderie and pomp that went with it.  She really enjoyed getting away from home for a while……even if she did have to walk a mile and a half to get home after the game.

            Soon she was cheering with the crowd, urging the team on.  About a half hour into the game, she felt someone sit down beside her and turned to see who it was.  Her stomach knotted as soon as she saw it was Greg, the new guy in school.  He was a senior, two years ahead of her, and had transferred there from out of state.  All the girls had been oohing and aahing over him since his first day there.  Susan admired him, but knew he was out of her league so there wasn’t any point in following him around.

            She smiled and introduced herself, “Hi!  I’m Susan.  You’re Greg, right?”

            “That would be me,” he said as he flashed a smile that showed his pearly white teeth.  “Is this seat taken?”

            “It is now,” she said with a smile.

            At halftime, Greg disappeared and Susan mentally kicked herself for not being more talkative.  Well, if he showed back up she’d try harder to make conversation with him.  She chatted with the others in the group as she kept an eye out for him.  Just as the game was about to resume, he appeared with a couple of soft drinks and some popcorn.  Holding one of the drinks out to her, he took his seat beside her once more.

            “Thanks.  You didn’t have to do that,” Susan told him.

            “I know, but I wanted to,” he said smiling at her.

            They talked and cheered throughout the remainder of the game, and as the fourth quarter ended, he asked if she needed a ride home.

            “That’d be nice,” she said.  But even as she said it, her stomach was getting queasy with fear because she knew her mother would be mad at her for accepting a ride.  Greg walked her to his car and opened the door for her before going around and sliding into the driver’s seat.

            “Since I’m new here, you’ll need to give me directions to your house.”

            “Ok.  It’s easy to get to from here.”  And she proceeded to direct him through the maze of narrow streets.  When they stopped in front of her house, she turned to thank him for the ride and he cupped her face with one hand and pulled her toward him.  He kissed her softly on the lips.  Susan’s heart was pounding so hard she just knew he could hear it.  He leaned back to look at her.  “See you at school,” he said.

            “Yeah, see you at school.”  She opened the door, slid out of the car, and headed for the house.  As she reached the steps, she turned to wave at him as he took off.  She nervously opened the door and went in, knowing she was in for an inquisition.  Sure enough, Rosie was sitting on the couch, a frown creasing her face.

            “Who was that?”

            “It was a new guy from school.  He saw me walking home so he offered me a ride,” Susan lied.  She hated doing that, but if she didn’t offer a legitimate explanation for accepting the ride, she’d get a whipping.

            “Where’s he from?” her mother asked.

            “He moved here from Nevada a few weeks ago.  He doesn’t know many kids yet.”

            “Don’t you drag a bunch of trash to this house!” Rosie snapped angrily.

            “I’m not.  He’s really nice and dresses nice.  He makes good grades and he works, too.” Susan said.  “May I go upstairs now?”

            “Go on.  Get out of here!”  Rosie growled, still scowling.

            Susan took the stairs two at a time.  She’d made it past the ogre, and now she could play her records and relive the evening.  She felt lighthearted and couldn’t keep from smiling as she peeled off her jeans and tossed them on the small pile in the corner.  No one was going to believe that Greg had taken her home from the game, and once they found out it was true, some of the girls would be mad at her.  She didn’t care, though.  They all had steady boyfriends, but she’d gone through a series of short relationships that didn’t last very long.  Probably her fault, but she wasn’t going to hang onto them if it didn’t feel right.  She settled down on the floor beside her record player and put on an album by the Supremes.  As Diana Ross sang, she leaned her head on her hands on the window seat and gazed out at the night sky, thinking about Greg and letting her imagination run wild.

            Monday morning as she arrived at school, Susan spotted Greg leaned against his car in the parking lot.  When he saw her coming, he waved, motioning her to him.  Susan smiled and made her way over to him. 

            “Hi!  I’ve been waiting for you,” he said.

            “Hi.  Been waiting long?”

            “Nah.  I’ve been here about ten minutes is all.”

            “I had a good time Friday night.  Thanks for the ride home.”

            “So did I.  Want me to walk you to class?”

            “Sure!”  Susan’s pulse raced as he slipped his arm through hers and walked beside her into the building and down the hall.  Eyebrows were raised as the kids passing them in the hallway caught sight of them.  Susan tried to act nonchalant and ignore the stares they were getting, but inside she was a nervous wreck.  When they got to the door of her classroom, Greg released her arm with a promise that he’d catch up with her after school. 

            Susan took her seat and placed her books on the desk.  It didn’t take but a few minutes for several of the girls to gather around her asking to hear all the details.  Thankfully, Mr. Rakestraw picked that moment to appear, and so all discussions about Greg were postponed until later.  Susan gave him a mental “Thank You.”

            As Susan exited the school through the double doors, she could see Greg once again leaning against his car waiting for her.  Without taking her eyes off him, she quickly made her way over.

            “Hi, gorgeous,” he cooed.

            “Hi,” she replied breathlessly.

            “Need a ride home?”

            “Sure.  You offering?”

            “At your service,” he said with a flourish.

            As they pulled to a stop in front of her house, Greg pulled her across the seat toward him.  Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her, lightly at first, but quickly slid his tongue across her lips to dance with hers.  Susan felt her heart fluttering the way it had never done before.  Yeah, Greg was definitely different from the other guys she’d dated.  He made her feel things she’d never felt before.  She had the fleeting feeling that she was dancing with danger, but it was so nice to’ve been picked out of the crowd that she put that feeling behind her and threw caution to the wind.

            As they moved apart, Greg said, “See you in the morning?”

            “Ok,” was all she could manage in response.  For the first time in her life, she felt special, and it was a very nice feeling.  She could get used to this.

            He gave her another quick kiss before he left, and she walked into the house buoyed by the fluttering of the butterflies in her stomach.  She was so glad her mother was at work.  At least she could enjoy this feeling for another two hours before having to deal with the reality of her life.

            Susan walked slowly home still giddy with the sound of applause echoing in her ears.  She’d remembered all her lines and there hadn’t been a single mistake; that in itself was unusual.  As she walked, she looked up at the stars in the black night sky.  She loved the stars.  Whenever she looked at them, a feeling of isolation would always come over her.  She knew that no matter what else or who else existed in this world she would always be alone.  Nothing to signify she’d ever existed at all.  She could feel eternity to the depths of her soul and it seemed to project her outward into nothingness.  For being eleven years old, she felt as though she’d lived an eternity already, and an immense sadness overtook her. 

            She couldn’t understand the feeling completely.  She wouldn’t even begin to explain it to anyone else – they’d think she was crazy.  Sometimes at night, when she’d lie in her bed listening to the crickets chirp under her window, she’d get that same feeling of infinity – the present melded into the past and future.  Even though the sadness of it sometimes threatened to crush her, she was somehow comforted by it.  Maybe it allowed her to escape into something more bearable.  She always felt as though her soul was floating high above her into the darkness, and she could look down upon herself lying in bed.  Maybe she should be afraid.  Maybe she was crazy.  There wasn’t anyone to confide in or comfort her when it seemed to envelope her.  It was simply part of her life that had always existed, just like the déjà vu she regularly experienced. 

            The closer Susan drew to her home, the slower her pace became.  She dreaded going home.  No telling what was waiting for her when she got there.  Maybe they’d be watching television and pay no attention to her.  Yeah.  That’d be best.  As she approached the back door, she could hear the sounds of the television all right.  She eased the screen door open and tried to slip in unobserved.  So far, so good.  She quietly made her way to the bedroom and removed her shoes, socks, and clothes before slipping into a tattered cotton gown.  Then she grabbed up her notebook and schoolbooks and headed for the dining table to do her homework.

            Rosie yelled out from the den, “Has anybody seen Susan yet?” 

            Susan flinched.  “I’m in here doing my homework,” Susan called back.  She was met with silence, and she breathed a sigh of relief.  She hurried through her work, stacked everything on the table for the next day, and headed off to bed so she could return to her feeling of nothingness.  The fact that her mother hadn’t inquired about her play didn’t seem unusual to her; she would have been alarmed if she had.  In this house, it was best not to draw attention to yourself if at all possible. 

            Susan settled in under the sheet and pulled it over her head, leaving only her face peeking out.  She faced the open window so she could once again look at the stars.  She relaxed her small body and allowed her mind to flow outward into the darkness of eternity.  Peace finally descended on her and she was able to sleep.

            “Nola, can you help me memorize my lines for the play?  I only have four more days to learn ‘em.  I think I know most of it, but I need to have someone checking me against the script.”  Susan stood holding the script in her hand waiting for an answer.

            “Yeah, but hurry up.  I still have homework to do,” Nola sighed.

            Susan ran through her lines while Nola read the lines for the other characters.  Susan loved to act.  She also loved to read, sing, and play sports.  She was a good student and thrived on the attention she received from the teachers.  If there was any activity she could participate in without having to ask her mother for money, she would try it, but if it cost anything, she could forget it.  She’d been lucky to get tennis shoes to play basketball.  She didn’t dare ask for anything else.

            After Nola assured her that her lines were perfect, she grabbed a book and hoped to get some reading in before her mother got home from work.  It was her day to cook dinner so she carried the book into the kitchen with her.  When she had everything cooking on the stove, she grabbed the book and leaned against the cabinet to read while she kept an eye on the food. 

            Rosie walked in through the back door and dumped her purse on the coffee table in the den before making her way through the house to see what everyone was doing.  As she entered the kitchen, the corners of her mouth turned down and her anger flashed.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing standing there reading while you’re supposed to be cooking?  If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get that book out of here!  And if I catch you with another book in this house I’m going to throw it in the trash!” Rosie screamed at Susan. 

            Susan hurried to toss the book into her bedroom and get back to work in the kitchen.  Her knees were shaking and she was afraid she was in for another whipping, so she kept her head down and her eyes focused on the food in front of her.  As her mother walked into the living room, Susan grabbed plates and silverware and began to set the table.  She hated her life!  She hated her mother for making her life so miserable that running away looked like a really good option.  She put the food on the table and called everyone to eat.  In just a couple of minutes, they were all seated.

            “What’s that TV doing on?  Y’all know we don’t eat with the TV on.  Somebody better get in there and turn it off right now!” Rosie screeched. 

            Eileen raced to the television and turned the knob.  Now maybe they’d get through supper without any major disasters.

            “Mama, I have to be at the school at 6:00 Friday to get ready for our play,” Susan said hesitantly.  She didn’t want to start an argument about the play, but she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere unless her mother knew ahead of time.

            “Well, you know how to get there.  I don’t have time for that crap!”  Rosie snapped.

            Susan breathed a sigh of relief at having gotten past that hurdle.  That relief was short lived, though, as Rosie started down her list of chores that should have been done that day.  Susan hadn’t gotten her laundry done because she’d been studying her lines.  She was in for it now.  Her appetite was no longer as sharp as it had been, and she chewed slowly as she waited for the conversation to come around to her. 

            “No, Mama.  I didn’t get my clothes washed today.  I was studying my lines in the play.”  Susan swallowed hard as she waited for her mother’s anger.  She didn’t have to wait long.  Rosie’s hand flew across her face and sent her sailing to the floor.  Her appetite now a thing of the past, Susan looked at the floor as she set her chair upright and took her place at the table once again.  She didn’t dare look her mother in the face again.  That was just asking for trouble.

            “I’m sorry, Mama.  It won’t happen again, I promise.”  Susan pleaded for understanding, but there was to be none this day.

            “As soon as we get through eating, you go get my belt.  I’ll show you what’s important in this house, young lady!  And it’s not those goddamn books or that goddamn play!”  Rosie was screaming by this time.

            Susan’s throat became tight and dry at the thought of the upcoming whipping.  Her appetite was completely gone now.  Without raising her head she cast her eyes around the table at her sisters, but they knew better that to look at her unless they wanted to share her punishment.  Susan forced herself to eat the food on her plate, because if she didn’t there would be a second whipping for wasting food.  It took every bit of willpower she could muster just to swallow each bite, but she somehow managed, just as she always did.

            With supper finished, Susan hoped her mother had forgotten about the whipping, but she hadn’t.  “Go get that belt!” Rosie barked.

            Susan dragged herself to her mother’s bedroom where she found the folded leather belt that she knew only too well.  She picked it up and carried it to her mother who was standing in the middle of the living room, waiting.  Rosie snatched the belt from her hands, grabbed Susan by her left arm, and brought the full force of the leather against the tender skin on the back of Susan’s legs, butt, and back.  Susan tried to get away from Rosie’s grasp, but managed only to go around in a circle with Rosie gripping her arm tightly, all the while bringing the belt to bear on Susan’s skin.

            By the time Rosie turned her loose, Susan’s chest was heaving from the sobbing and screaming.  Her skin was on fire where the belt had left its marks, and the welts and red blood blisters were testament to her punishment.

            “Don’t make me have to do this again, young lady, or I’ll beat you to death and tell God you died!”  Rosie threw the belt across the room as Susan flinched.

            “I’m sorry, Mama.  It won’t happen again.”  Susan’s voice was barely recognizable through her sobs. 

            “Get your ass in that bed!  I don’t want to look at your stupid face again tonight!”

            Her head down, Susan walked quickly to the bedroom she shared with Nola and flung herself facedown across her bed crying as quietly as she could.  When she could no longer cry, she raised her swollen face and eyes and tried to look at the back of her legs.  Not good.  She’d have to wear jeans to school tomorrow, but all her jeans were dirty.  Too bad.  She’d have to wear them anyway.  No way she wanted anyone to see this.  She just hoped the marks were gone by Friday.  She didn’t think the dress she had to wear for the play would hide all of them.

            “Well, what do you think?  Should we put her out of her misery or let her continue her quest?”  Ceres asked in a matter-of-fact manner.

            “I think she deserves one more chance.  The two previous lives seemed promising, but she wasn’t quite ready,” Janus spoke up.  “Perhaps one more opportunity is all she needs.  I will grant her that.”

            Fortuna ventured, “Try as I might to help her, the free will the humans possess has played havoc with my blessings.  However, I will agree to one more chance for happiness.”

            Minerva and Juno concurred with the others, “We will do what we can to help.”

1955

            Susan kept her head down as her fingers toyed with the blanket on the unmade bed.  Her chest was heaving from the tears she had shed earlier.  Now she was trying not to look at her mother, hoping that if she kept her head down and didn’t say anything, her mother would get tired of her and leave her alone.  No such luck.

            Rosie grabbed the five year old by the arm, digging her nails into the soft flesh, and jerked her back and forth as she screamed, “I hate you!  I wish you’d never been born!”  Susan’s head whipped back and forth with every jerk until she thought it would go flying off across the room.  Her sobbing began again as the pain in her arm increased.  Rosie drew back her other hand and slapped Susan hard across the face.

            “You shut up or I’ll give you something to cry about!”

            Susan closed her mouth and tried to hold her sobs inside.  She knew it wouldn’t matter anyway.  She would still get a whipping, but she tried to suppress the sounds coming from her mouth so she wouldn’t make her mother any madder than she was.  Finally, Rosie tired of the shaking and shoved Susan as hard as she could across the room, hoping that with any luck the brat would hit her head hard enough to put her out of her misery.  She hit it all right, but received only a knot on the back of it.

            “You better stay out of my way, if you know what’s good for you!” Rosie told her as she stomped out of the bedroom.

            Susan lay there dazed for a few minutes before trying to sit up.  Every part of her five-year-old body hurt.  You’d think she’d be used to it by now, but she wasn’t.  She always hoped her mother would forgive her for being a girl.  Her other sisters had the same wish, but deep down inside they all knew they were hated.  Rosie hadn’t wanted any daughters, only sons, and had only received a son from her fifth and final pregnancy. 

            Susan gingerly pulled at the skin from the underside of her arm so she could see if it was bleeding.  No.  No blood, but a series of bruises were spreading where each fingertip had been.  She raised the hem of her shirt and wiped her face and eyes before wiping her nose.  She smoothed her shirt back down and moved her hand to the back of her head.  Ouch!  The knot was huge and hurt bad.  She must have hit the knob on the drawer when she fell.  She sat quietly for several more minutes before she crawled across the floor to the door so she could peek out and see where her mother was. 

            It looked as if the coast was clear, so Susan eased her way through the door, pausing to listen for voices.  Wherever the voices were, she wanted to go the opposite direction.  Finally, she heard the television come on it the den, so she made a quiet exit through the living room and out the front door, closing the screen door softly.  She looked around the yard and decided the tree was her best option, and she ran and jumped up to grab the lowest hanging limb, and began pulling herself up among the branches.  As soon as she reached the highest limb that would support her weight, she propped her battered body against the rough trunk, draped her legs on either side of the branch, and tried to relax and breathe.

            I wish I was at Grandmother’s house.  I’d really like some of her strawberry shortcake right now.  Grandmother loves me.  Mama hates me.  That realization was nothing new.  They were all reminded of it daily.  This just happened to be her day for it.  Susan closed her eyes and tried to shut out the world, but her thoughts were black and swirling.  I hate you and I wish you were dead!  You’re the meanest mama anybody ever had!  I wish I could run away and you’d never find me.  Maybe a nice family would find me.  I hate getting whippings all the time, I hate that skinny black belt, and I hate having bruises all over me.

            “Susan!”

            Susan’s eyes jerked open to see who was calling her.  She leaned over to the right so she could peer through a gap in the leaves, and saw Nola standing on the front steps looking for her.

            “Susan!  You better hurry up before Mama comes looking for you!”

            “I’m coming!” Susan yelled back as she scurried and slid against the rough bark until she was low enough to drop to the ground.  She landed awkwardly on a root protruding from the ground, lost her balance, and fell backward on the grass.

            Nola turned on her heel and went back inside the house without waiting for Susan.  Susan scrambled to her feet and ran, grabbing the screen door, flinging it open, running into the living room as the door slammed shut behind her.  She pulled up sharply at the sound of the slam and winced to herself.

            “Who keeps slamming that goddamn door?!” Rosie screamed from the dining room.

            “I’m sorry,” Susan called out.  “I didn’t mean to slam it.”

            “If I hear that door slam one more time I’m gonna beat your ass off you, do you hear me?!”  Rosie screamed at Susan.

            “I won’t do it again.”  Susan held her breath until she made sure her mother wasn’t going to get up from the table.  She made her way to the table and sat down in her usual spot.  She waited for her mother to give the unspoken signal that they could begin to serve themselves.  She tried her best not to get more than she could eat, because she didn’t want to have to sit at the table eating until she was sick at her stomach again.  Supper was the same as usual….potatoes, green beans, and corn with a tomato sliced on a saucer.  The only time they got any type of cooked meat for a meal was sometimes on Sunday if her mother felt like cooking it.  Otherwise, the sisters all took turns cooking whatever was available, and that was vegetables.

            “Whose turn is it to wash dishes?” Rosie asked.

            “Nola’s.  And it’s Susan’s turn to dry.”  Pat pointed out.  Pat was older than Susan and Nola, but she was a year younger than Eileen. 

            “You better make sure that kitchen’s clean before you go to bed tonight, young lady!  I’m sick and tired of getting up to a dirty kitchen in the morning,” Rosie stated flatly.  “If it’s not clean I’m gonna drag your ass outta bed, beat your ass, and then you’re gonna clean it up!” she threatened.

            Nola nodded quietly.  She always cleaned the kitchen up good.  Pat was the one who left it dirty and got the rest of them in trouble.  Boy, if only she could run away from home so Pat would have to do the dishes all the time.  But she knew she never would.  Nola hoped they could get through the evening without any more problems.  Susan was too small to be drying dishes, but size or age didn’t count around here when it came to work.  Please don’t let Susan break anything tonight.  Nola offered up a silent prayer.  She didn’t want a whipping today….her mother was already too mad, and a whipping tonight was likely to be really bad.  Somebody would get hurt bad. 

Okay……I wasn’t going to post anything about the book, but after my e-mail inbox filled up with comments from other Eric Northman fans, I figured what the hell….I may as well speak my mind.   I may get banned from the website, but I can’t help that.

I got my new, just issued copy of “Dead and Gone” yesterday, and read it last night so I would be ready to discuss it with other fans.  My anticipation was flattened during the first chapter and didn’t revive much during the rest of the book.  The only redeeming qualities from the standpoint of an Eric Northman fan was Eric and Sookie getting back together again while he was in full command of his faculties.

A great opportunity was missed to permanently join the two strongest characters,  Sookie and Eric, and pit them against the rest of the world.  Bill is merely a background character and doesn’t have the charisma to carry off any greater role than that.  A perfect chance to get him out of the picture was also missed at the end of the book. 

There are many, many adversaries to pit against a unified Eric and Sookie without Bill muddying the water.  He served his purpose, but it’s time for him to move on…..Quinn, too.

The first part of the book was disjointed and didn’t flow the way her previous books have.   Not very satisfying at all.  Sorry.  If it hadn’t been for Eric and Sookie being together I probably wouldn’t have finished it.  I really like Ms. Harris on a personal level, I just think she must have had too many distractions while writing this book.   Maybe trying to write with an eye toward the TrueBlood series on HBO…..which is so far off course that it barely resembles the books at all.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

     I’m still sidetracked by real life, but it’s starting to settle down to a normal lunacy.  I can’t wait to get back to my little story!  I had plenty of time to read while sitting in the hospital waiting room, and it was really tough not to laugh out loud while reading the remaining Stephanie Plum books by Janet Evanovich.  I had to keep covering my face with the book while suppressing the laughter.  I got some mighty strange looks from the other folks waiting there.

     Well, I do have to take care of business so I’d better get to work on it.  That will allow me to return here with another installment a bit sooner!

Later, y’all!

I haven’t had a chance to write the next installment on the novella, but I’ll get back to it soon.  I’ve simply had too much going on, and not enough time to do it all.  Things are getting better now, so hopefully in a few days I’ll get my head screwed on straight and sit down to write.

            The covers were twisted and tangled around her legs as she slept, but Paloma was oblivious to the discomfort.  Her dreams enveloped another place and time, and the sadness in her dream made its way to her heart.  She dreamed of a pretty, young girl gathering fruit with someone whose face she couldn’t see.  As her dream unfolded, she watched as two children were born, a girl and a boy.  She watched them move through their lives as if she were there taking part. 

            She felt, rather than saw, a presence she assumed was a man.  At first, the presence was seemingly happy, but grew progressively angry with the girl who was suddenly a young lady.  The scene changed and now she was in bed and could feel death upon her.  She could feel the profound sadness of the young woman, and her heart ached.  Paloma longed to hold her in her arms and comfort her, but knew it was futile.  She died as Paloma watched in shock, but what horrified her most of all were the feelings of being unloved, unwanted, that were emanating from her body.

            Paloma awoke with a start, tears streaming down her face.  The dream was so vivid she could have sworn she’d actually been there.  The feelings of desolation echoed her own, and her heart was heavy with the knowledge that she, too, was unloved and unwanted.  No matter how often Edouard visited or how long he stayed, she always knew he would leave again.  As the years had passed, his visits had become shorter with more time elapsing from visit to visit.  His focus now was little Edouard, who wasn’t so little any more. 

            At sixteen, Edouard II was taller and more striking than his father, with black hair and green eyes, while his father had light brown hair and eyes so dark they were almost black.  He did, however, possess the same chiseled body and seductive manner of walking.  Paloma had watched as the young girls flirted outrageously with him, her urge to protect him strong.  Soon enough he would want to marry and have his own family.  For now, she wished they’d leave him alone and let her enjoy her son while she could.

            The remnant of sadness from her dream persisted throughout the day, and Paloma was disconsolate.  She wished Edouard were here to cheer her up with his bright smile and infectious laugh, but she had no way of knowing when he would return.  She sighed as she tried to focus on her needlework, but finally put the cloth away in frustration.  She didn’t feel well, her eyes ached with every stitch she took, and her chest felt like it was on fire.  “Edouardo, come here, please.”  She used her native Spanish pronunciation of his name. 

            “Oui, Mama?”

            “I think I’ll lie down for a nap, but before I do I wanted to talk to you.”

            “Oui, Mama.  I’m yours,” he said as he stretched out at her feet.

            “I haven’t been feeling well lately….nothing to worry about, mind you…..but it made me realize there are things you need to know.”

            “Is there anything I can get for you, Mama?  Should I go for Papa?”

            “Non, mon bébé.  I’m tired, that’s all.  I wanted you to know, should anything happen to me, this house will belong to you; that is what your father and I decided.  In the trunk in my bedroom, you’ll find a sealed parchment with your name on it that has everything else you’ll need to know.  Promise me you won’t forget.”

            “I would never forget, Mama.”  He smiled as he jumped to his feet.  “Je t’aime, Mama,” he said as he kissed her cheek before leaving the house.

            “Moi aussi, je t’aime, Edouardo,” she replied.  “I do love you, too.  You’re such a good boy,” she said under her breath.

            As Edouard II prowled the streets looking for his friends, Paloma went to lie on her bed.  Just for a moment.  She was so tired, and her chest hurt burned so badly.  It would be so nice if Edouard were here to comfort her, even if it was for just a day or two, then he could go back to his family.  She wanted to be held and feel like someone cared about her, wanted to know someone would miss her when she was gone.  For once, she wanted to be the most important part of someone’s life.  She knew she shouldn’t complain, he had always taken good care of her, made sure she had anything she needed, was with her when their son was born, and had devoted himself to little Edouard.  He had stayed by her for a long time.  She knew he didn’t love her, but she had always intrigued him, and their sex was unforgettable. 

            Edouard walked through the house looking for Paloma.  It wasn’t like her to be gone this time of day.  “Paloma!” he called.  No response.  With long strides, he hurried to their bedroom only to see her stretched out on the bed breathing heavily.  He placed his hand on her forehead and felt the fever raging through her.

            “Paloma?  Paloma?  Bébé?” he said as he shook her gently. 

            Her eyes opened to mere slits as she tried to focus on his face.  “Edouard?” she breathed.

            “Oui, I’m here.  What’s wrong?  Your skin is on fire!”  Edward went to the basin and returned with a cool, wet cloth to place on her forehead.  Almost immediately, the cloth absorbed heat from her skin and had to be replaced.  Edouard continued to bathe her face throughout the evening. 

            When Edouard II returned, he saw his father’s horse in the stable and hurried inside.  He found him still sitting with Paloma in the twilight, bathing her skin, and talking to her in a calm, soothing voice.  He listened at the door as his father spoke of their life together, how happy he had been the short amount of time he was with her, and how proud he was of the son she’d borne him.  He reminded her of the party from which they’d escaped to be alone for the first time.  He thanked her for being a wonderful mother and lover, and promised her he would watch over little Edouard.  And he cried for the love that never was, and what could have been.

            Edouard hugged her body to him as she succumbed to the fever, while their son held her hand as tears ran down their faces.   

            “I love you both” she whispered before closing her eyes for the last time, her body going limp in Edouard’s arms; and the two Edouards mourned, each in his own way, the passing of lover and mother. 

1268 AD

            Edouard held out his arms to take his son from the midwife.  He was overjoyed at the sight of the tiny face crumpled and crying.  This was his first son, and was part of both him and Paloma.  He had given up hope of having a male heir, but Paloma had found a way to present him with the thing he wanted most in this world.  His son!  His heir!  Edouard II.  The name had such a nice ring to it.  Not that he didn’t love his daughters, mind you; it’s just that a son is the most important thing in the world.  Everyone knows that.

            He kissed Paloma on the forehead.  “Thank you, mon ange, for giving me such a beautiful son!  I am happy beyond words!”  He leaned his head down and kissed the crying baby on his cheek.  “Welcome, mon bébé.” 

            “I pray he looks exactly like you.”  Paloma said softly as she watched Edouard fuss over the baby.

            “I think he may be hungry, ma chère,” Edouard smiled as he placed the baby at her breast.  “I suppose I’ll have to share now…..but for him, anything.”  As he released the baby to her arms, his mouth moved to hers and he kissed her passionately. 

            Paloma’s heart ached.  Edouard had been so loving, so good to her, giving her anything her heart desired……except his name.  That was something she would never have.  She hadn’t planned on falling in love with him.  This was to be nothing more than an arrangement of convenience, but somewhere over the course of the years, she fell in love.  She wasn’t sure how he felt; he never said the words to her, but she thought that maybe he felt at least a little like she did.  But then again, who knows?  She knew he enjoyed the sex…..she made sure of that.  She could only hope for a tiny piece of his heart.

            Edouard stayed with Paloma and the baby until she was able to manage comfortably on her own.  When Edouard II was two months old, Edouard told Paloma the news she’d been secretly dreading.  “Ma chère, I must go to my villa for a while.  I need to check on Victoria and my daughters, and make sure everything is fine with them.  I will return as soon as possible.”

            “When will you be leaving?” she asked, sadness in her voice.

            “First light tomorrow.  The distance seems to grow every time I leave you, and I hate being that far away.”

            “We will miss you while you’re away from us.”  Her eyes were searching his face looking for traces of the love she hoped would be there, but all she read was worry.  She had no right to ask anything more of him.  She had no right to be loved.  She was his mistress, his whore.  Whores were not good enough to be loved; Don Antonio had taught her that.  At least while he was here with her tonight she would make sure it was a night he’d never forget. 

            She nursed the baby and put him down to sleep, then she took Edouard’s hand and led him to their bed.  “Come, Edouard.  Let me please you before your long journey.”  So saying, she began to kiss his lips, probing deeply with her tongue.  When he responded, she began to suck gently on his tongue and his body’s reaction was immediate.  She moved her lips and trailed them to his ear and down his neck where she stopped to nibble.  She could feel the chills on his skin as she continued to nibble while she removed his shirt.  Her mouth sought his nipples, and she suckled and teased them with her tongue.  Edouard’s muscles were tense with desire.  She began to remove his pants as her tongue followed the tiny trail of black hair to his loins.  A moan escaped his lips as his pants hit the floor.

            Paloma led him to the bed, waiting for him to lie back before she resumed her exploration of his body.  By the time she had explored every part of him, he was rocking from the aftershocks of his climax, and still she continued to torment him with her talented fingers and tongue.  When his body was spent from his climaxes and he had no more strength left in him, she relented and lay beside him, softly stroking his body and twirling his hair around her fingers as she quietly hummed a lullaby to herself.  Edouard’s body was limp from exhaustion, and a smile curved the corners of his mouth.  He threw an arm over Paloma and pulled her snugly to him before falling into a sound, contented sleep.

            Paloma smoothed the bed linens, gliding her hands over the covers to remove any wrinkles.  Edouard had been generous and given her a very pretty cottage.  She had only expected a room somewhere above a shop, but he had insisted he wanted her comfortable and safe.  Mostly he wanted to be able to come and go without prying eyes watching his every move.  He had been here practically full time since she’d moved in six months ago, but that was fine; she enjoyed his company and he made sure her cupboards were always full.  He never spoke of his wife much.  It was as though she belonged to another world when he was here.  Paloma gave a satisfied smile as she straightened and look around.  Yes, this was a very nice place.

            Edouard came bounding through the door, sweeping her into his arms and around in a circle as he kissed her soundly on the mouth.  Always happy to be home with Paloma, he was even more so since he had additional business come up to keep him in Paris.  The home they shared was just on the fringes of the city, and it was like heaven on earth to him.  She squealed with delight as he pulled her onto his lap when he sat down.  Wrapping both arms around her, he growled in her ear sending chills down her back, then nuzzled her neck making his way to her shoulder.  She shivered at his touch, and smiled happily at him.  “Something good must have happened today.  You are very happy!” she said as she returned his nuzzle. 

            “I will be able to stay a few more weeks before I have to take my leave.  Something has come up that needs my personal attention.  I have sent a messenger to inform Victoria that I will be delayed.”  And with that, he hugged her tightly to him. 

            Paloma’s eyes sparkled with amusement.  Edouard could be so like a child sometimes, but that made her love him more.  No, wait…..not love!  Did she just think the word….love?  Love was not part of this.  This was an arrangement of mutual convenience.  She needed someone to take care of her, and he needed someone to care for…..besides the obligation that was his wife.  No, love was definitely not a part of this.

            All through dinner, Paloma listened to Edouard prattle on about his day.  She would smile or nod in response to his pauses.  Edouard could barely concentrate on his meal while Paloma was within arms reach.  He tried to pace himself and enjoy her company, but the truth was he couldn’t wait to strip her down to bare skin and have his way with her.  Or let her have her way with him.  She was definitely a woman who knew how to please a man.  He could feel himself hardening just thinking about it.

            Paloma ate sparingly.  She knew when Edouard was this happy and excited their evening together would soon move to the bedroom.  And that was fine with her; he was still the most beautiful man she’d ever known, and thoughts of him made her tingle with anticipation.  She was being very careful, too.  She didn’t want another baby to come along and spoil things for her. 

            Edouard was lying on his side cuddling Paloma’s backside while he cupped her breasts in each hand.  She could feel his breath on her neck as her hand slipped behind her and did some cupping of its own.  She felt him tremble at her touch.  “What shall I do first?” she teased him.

            “Touch me,” he replied.

            And she did.  She touched him much more than she knew, in more ways than she anticipated; and for the remainder of the evening and into the night, Paloma dominated Edouard’s thoughts, driving all else from his mind. 

            Edouard thought he must be going mad.  No woman could make any man feel the way he felt every time Paloma touched him.  He had to be under a charm of some sort.  Whatever it was, he didn’t want it to end.  When he was flat on his back from exhaustion, sated and happy, Paloma fluffed her pillow and propped herself up on it so she could watch his chest move as he breathed.  She dangled one hand off the pillow and twirled his hair absently as she watched.  It was so comforting to watching him lie there, naked and relaxed, his breathing steady and warm.  No, definitely not love, she thought, but something very close, indeed.