Casa Dracula 3 - The Bride Of Casa Dracula (21 page)

“All five days of it.” I leaned in to his body. “Don’t expand your business, Oz. Don’t you have enough to do already?”

“Businesses are like sharks, babe. They gotta keep moving forward.” He rubbed my back. “I’m hoping I can get us set up comfortably and retire early. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like it’s too many decades away.” I looked into his eyes and saw the worry there. “I know you love what you do, and I don’t want to take that away from you, but what about our life together?”

“If you had more to do, you wouldn’t need me around all the time.”

“You knew who I was, what I was, that I was a writer, when we met. I haven’t asked anything of you but you. I don’t need to be rich or have things.”

“We need financial security, Milagro. Our kind needs to be self-sufficient. I want to be able to provide for my family, our children if we have them.”

I dropped onto the sofa. “We’re back to this again. We never resolve this. We just keep going around in circles.”

“It’s been a tough week. Let’s go to bed.”

I looked up at him hopefully.

“Our own beds,” he added.

“Oswald, if I’d died in that accident, what good would any of the Council’s benefits be?”

“But you didn’t die.”

“You don’t want me anymore, Oswald.”

He laughed. “It’s official. You are crazy, and I’m burnt out. Go to bed.”

I went outside first to look for Pal. Wandering through the field I turned back to stare at the house. The lights glowed from the living room windows where we’d left Cornelia and Joseph. It was a beautiful house, but it would always be Oswald’s house.

Pal had abandoned me yet again. I wondered if his owners were keeping him in at night now.

I went to my room, placed my wedding ring on the marble vanity, and washed up. I turned out the lights and went to the window to smell the fragrance of mock-orange before going to sleep.

The next morning, as I was getting dressed, I looked for my ring. It was gone.

delusions, seductions, and evictions

I searched on the floor and on the bedroom dresser. I examined the sink, but the drain would have blocked a ring from being washed away. I crawled on the floor in the bedroom and bathroom, and even pulled all the sheets and blankets off the bed. Then I repeated my search. The ring was gone, baby, gone.

My bedroom door was closed. I had not heard anyone come in during the night. I tried to be calm as I went upstairs to our room. Oswald was sitting on the bed putting his shoes on.

“My ring is gone,” I said. “Did you take it for any reason?”

“Why would I take your ring?”

I told him that I’d put the ring on the vanity last night and that it was missing. “I looked everywhere.”

“I’ll help you look again.”

“Maybe…,” I began.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. Cornelia went to her room a few minutes after you went to bed. Unless you think Joseph snuck into your room while you slept.”

“I’m not saying that!”

We went downstairs and looked for the ring in the bathroom and my bedroom. I found a quarter under a chair cushion, my favorite pen, two rubber bands, and a mini tin of breath mints. “I didn’t put it in any of these places,” I said. “It was on the vanity.”

The sheer curtains at the window fluttered in the slight breeze. “The window,” I said.

Oswald went to the window and tried to raise it further, but it still stuck at about six inches. “Even if someone got past the dogs, no one could fit through that.” He glanced at the clock. “I’ve got to run. Don’t make any wild accusations until I get back tonight.”

I had no idea what Oswald had paid for that hunk of shiny rock. “I’m sorry if I lost the ring,” I said, even though I didn’t believe I had lost it. But how could it disappear? “We’ll find it.”

“I’m sure we will, babe. Remember what I said about stress.” He kissed my cheek. “I’m the one who should apologize for not really understanding what you went through with your accident.”

“Why won’t you trust me on this?”

“You said yourself that your vision is playing tricks on you. Besides, I’ve seen you take off that ring and leave it everywhere. Another guy might think you didn’t even like it.”

“Of course I like it! Do you think that I ‘lost’ it on purpose?”

“You’re overreacting. It’s insured, so if we can’t find it, we’ll replace it. In the meantime, try to decompress,” he said and left.

I knew that something was wrong. Even though I’d seen the chewed wiring from the car, the accident hadn’t felt like an accident. Even though, yes, I often left my ring around, I knew I hadn’t misplaced it this time. I also knew that I would have awoken if someone had come into my room.

I drank my coffee and stared out the window. Ernie’s truck pulled up beside the house. He got out and picked a cardboard box out of the bed of the truck. He saw me at the window and waved for me to come outside.

“Buenos dias, Ernesto. What’s up?”

He lifted the box toward me. “I got your rat catchers here.” He placed the box on the ground and opened the top. Two young black cats leaped out and ran into the garden. “One male and one female, both fixed,” he said as we followed them. They slunk through the flowers, smelling things and twitching their tails and ears.

“Are they house cats?”

“Nah, they’re a little wild. Leave some food and water out for them and they’ll settle in here.”

I was trying to approach the cats when they spotted an open access door that led under the house. In a second they’d slipped inside.

“See, they’re mouse hunting already,” Ernie said. “I hope they won’t get eated up by that wolf of yours.”

“He hasn’t been around lately. But he’s no trouble. You haven’t heard of any problems with him?”

Ernie shook his head. “A wolf’s a wolf, mama.”

I don’t know why I thought of Ian. I said, “He’s someone’s pet.” Ernie handed me a bag of cat food and a dark green bottle. I asked, “What’s this?”

“It’s that special liquor. Cornelia said you needed to cook something. This stuff’s so strong, you could strip paint with it.”

“Thanks. I wish they’d let me use tequila instead.”

I put out bowls of kitty chow for the cats. I hoped they wouldn’t kill any of the birds.

When I went back into the kitchen, Cornelia was standing in front of the coffee machine, looking at it expectantly. She wore sleek cream trousers and a thin white knit top. “Just a cup of coffee, Young Lady,” she said. “Joseph is coming soon and driving me to the airport.”

I didn’t know why she couldn’t pour her own coffee. I sloshed some into a mug and held it out to her. “I thought you were staying to help me prepare for the wedding.”

“But I have! I’ve given you the recipe and the sewing directions. You begin making the cake and work on Oswald’s tunic, and I’ll be back in ten days.”

“Where are you going?”

She told me she was going to her friend’s finca in Andalucia. “Her divorce has been finalized and she’s having a long celebration. It’s just the right time to leave Joseph,” she said with a smile. “Before he gets too confident.”

“You like playing games with men, don’t you?”

“It is my favorite sport, darling, and obviously something you enjoy as well.”

“I try to be sincere with them,” I said as seriously and sincerely as I could.

“But you don’t try very hard, do you? Now promise that you won’t drag Joseph into the night to smell the flowers while I’m gone or waggle your generous wares at him.”

“My engagement ring is missing, Cornelia. Have you seen it?”

“Of course I have.” She looked at me and said, “Americans like garish stones, but you can have it reset. I’ll give you the name of my jeweler, who will do wonders with all the gifts from your lovers. Although I know Ian’s taste is impeccable.”

“What an appalling thing to say! I don’t have lovers!”

“Oh, darling, I don’t judge you. You’re young and all alone out here, bored and desperate for attention, what with Oswald working those long hours with gorgeous women who are devoted to perfecting their beauty.”

I silently counted to five before I said, “Cornelia, do you know what happened to my engagement ring?”

“No. It’s difficult enough to keep track of my own baubles.” She gave me a look of mock shock, hand to tidy booby. “Unless you’re accusing me of stealing your ring!”

“Not at all. I was only asking if you’d seen it.” I sat at the table and looked into her dark eyes. “I would like to like you, but I don’t quite trust you.”

She sipped her coffee before speaking. “You trust the wrong people and mistrust me who has always told you exactly what I think, just because I’m not ashamed of being a vampire.”

“I’ve done the best I can given the information I’ve had. But, Cornelia, if you try to hurt me or interfere with my wedding plans, I will retaliate.”

“Now you’re speaking like a vampire,” she said with a smile. “Milagro, I promise you that I intend to stand at your wedding with the deepest joy as you give your vows.”

I must have been out of my mind, because I almost believed her.

After she had gone, I loaded the plants I’d bought at the nursery and some compost in my truck and drove across the field to Daisy’s grave. I planted the tallest lavenders at the center of the plot and a low variety of rosemary around it, and finished with the thyme. I hauled water from the pond with a bucket. When I had finished, I stepped back and said, “There you go, girl. Now you’ll always have flowers. There’s rosemary for remembrance.”

When I returned to the house, I made another attempt to befriend the black cats. They moved away when I approached and began exploring the perimeter of the house. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about rodents while they were here.

Don Pedro called that afternoon and said, “How is my pretty little bat?”

It was easier to ignore the nickname than argue about it. “I’ve gotten through the story and now I’m going through the text again.” I talked about the story as a joyous journey of discovery, evolution, and knowledge, and how I would show his initial skepticism, then trepidation, followed by acceptance, and finally celebration of his transformation.

I began telling him how I’d been inspired by the Odyssey, especially Odysseus’s great cunning, and the trickster gods of the American West, but he didn’t seem interested in the fact that I was using the Alexandrian structure of twenty-four chapters.

“As the great Lao-tzu said, ‘God is in the details.’”

“Are you sure it was Lao-tzu, because-”

“I am concerned, my Miracle,” he said.

“Don’t be. I’ll have everything done by your deadline.”

“I knew I could entrust you with my life! However, you have been in my visions again. The twilight is a dangerous time, little bat, when you swoop out of your cave and others are waiting to pluck you out of the sky and taste your tender, sweet flesh.”

I didn’t always have the right instincts when it came to proper employee deportment, but I knew enough not to ask Don Pedro, “How high are you?” Instead I said, “Thank you for your concern. Talk to you soon!”

When Oswald arrived home in the evening, I was still working. He gave me a kiss and said, “How’s your eyesight?”

“It’s been fine all day.”

“I scheduled an appointment with our best ophthalmologist, but he can’t come out for a few weeks.”

“That’s okay. I’m on a streak and I want to finish this project. After that I can deal with vision issues, fruitcakes, and wedding clothes.”

“You’ll tell me if you see anything else weird, won’t you?”

“Of course I will. Hope you don’t mind if we just have leftovers tonight.”

“That’s fine. Did you find your ring?”

How had I forgotten about it? “No, not yet. I’ll keep looking.” But I didn’t, because I was on a writing streak and went back to my fauxoir after dinner. Generally I avoided using humor in stories, because it inevitably undermined the gravity of my literary work, but I would include some here for Don Pedro’s character.

I took a few minutes to update my other project, Nancy’s Theory of Style, and then I put it away. I thought about Oswald sleeping upstairs alone. I suddenly felt very loving toward him. I changed into a red satin camisole and tap pants, wrapped myself in a matching robe, and went upstairs to our room. Oswald was sleeping on his back, sprawled diagonally across the bed, the sheet down around his waist.

I sat on the bed and began kissing his smooth shoulders, his marvelous chest. My hands slid under the sheet and his eyes opened.

“Don’t…,” he mumbled.

“Stop?” I asked. “Don’t stop?”

He gave a sleepy laugh. “Milagro, what are you doing?”

“Guess.” I reached over him and pulled open the drawer of the bedside table. There, rolling around with pens and an emergency flashlight, was the scalpel he used to use on me. I took it out and removed the hard plastic cap covering the razor-sharp tip.

Oswald’s eyes widened and he took a deep breath. I handed him the scalpel and pressed my body on top of his. He pulled me down beside him, then rolled on top of me, kissing my neck and breasts, before rising onto his knees.

I was looking into his eyes. “Don’t stop,” I said.

He bent over me, kissing me, his tongue sliding into my mouth, his free hand tugging at the tie of my robe. It opened and slid off my shoulders.

“I love you,” he said as he brought the scalpel toward me.

I loved him, too. Which is why I was so bewildered when my hand shot out and gripped his wrist, and I pushed upward, flipping him off me and flat on the floor. The scalpel clattered across the room. I was standing directly above him, so I saw his expression change from astonishment to pain.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I was crouching down beside him. “Are you all right? I don’t know why…I’m so sorry, Oz. I didn’t mean to…”

He shook me off and stood up, still rubbing the back of his head. “Stop apologizing. I believe you.”

“I can’t stop apologizing. Are you okay?”

“It’s just a bump.”

I stood up too, and tried to take his hand, but he pulled it away and continued to rub his head. “Do you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. You just reacted.”