I served dinner as soon as it was ready, and there wasn’t even a hint of awkwardness while we ate dinner, chatting amiably. I enjoyed it while it lasted. Both men complimented the simple meal lavishly.
“So Bianca tells me you two went to high school together here in Las Vegas. And that you towered a head above everyone else there.”
Stephan laughed, sending me a surprised but pleased look.
“Yes,” he said. “Everyone called us Barbie and Ken. They all thought we were a couple, since I carried her backpack and walked her to every class.”
James smiled a cheshire cat smile.
Sneaky bastard, I thought. I saw his plan clearly now. He was going to get some free information out of Stephan.
“Bianca wouldn’t admit it at the time, but the nickname embarrassed the hell out of her,” Stephan continued.
James was all charm and smiles now, a man getting everything he wanted through a clearly easier route. “And what about her other nickname? Where did Buttercup come from?”
“Remember that old movie, Princess Bride?” Stephan asked James, not even hesitating to open up.
James nodded.
“We used to love that movie. This…” Stephan’s glance shot to mine as he paused, “place where we used to hang out a lot used to show it on movie night. It was the only movie on movie night. Ever. We could both quote you every single line. So I took to calling her Princess Buttercup. You have to admit she kind of looks like the actress in the movie, the one that played the princess. And as a teenager, she even kind of acted like her, very haughty and proud, but still so sweet to me. She was annoyed with the nickname at first, but it grew on her when it became just Buttercup.”
“Good movie. Now I want to watch it again. I haven’t seen it since I was a kid,” James said, still smiling.
Stephan smiled brilliantly. “I can’t think of anything I’d like to do more. I have the movie at my house. And ice cream. What do you say, Buttercup? Dessert and a movie at my place tonight?”
I agreed readily enough.
Stephan headed next door to find the movie and get his house ready. We stayed behind to clean up dinner.
James insisted on helping, clearing the table and washing dishes while I put the food away.
“This is not exactly what I pictured when you talked about not dating,” I told him carefully. “Hanging out with my best friend and watching movies feels pretty personal.”
He turned to me, looking baffled. “I never said anything about not getting personal. I intend for us to get very personal, Buttercup.”
His answer perplexed me, but I chalked it up to him being too rich and spoiled. Even his most casual affairs had to have a rich eccentricity to them…
We watched the movie and had ice cream and then popcorn at Stephan’s house. It was a highly enjoyable day overall, I thought, even with some bumpy conversations in the road.
We got ready for bed in silence later, and my body sang with anticipation as I lay down to wait for James, who was still in the bathroom.
He joined me a few minutes later, sliding in beside me and spooning me from behind. I tensed, waiting to see what kind of a move he would make, but he just nuzzled against my hair and settled down to sleep.
I tried to turn to him, but he kept me securely in place, placing a soft kiss on my temple.
“I’m letting you recover for a few days, Love. Just sleep. I’m content to hold you for tonight.”
I was in that house again. I lay in my hard, tiny bed. I was hugging my knees to my chest, rocking and rocking, and trying to ignore the harsh shouts just a few thin walls away.
If I stayed in my room, it would all go away. They would forget I was even here and in the morning my Dad would sleep all day and leave us in peace so I could tend to my Mother.
But that wasn’t meant to be. Not this time.
The yelling grew louder, my mother’s shouts turning into terrified screams. When I couldn’t stand the horrible noises a moment longer, I crept quietly through the house to investigate.
In spite of my overwhelming fear, my need to at least attempt to aid my mother almost always thrust me into the violent thick of things.
I looked down at my thin bare feet, wishing I knew where some clean socks were. I was so cold, an achy kind of cold, down to my very soul.
My parents were speaking in Swedish, and I pieced together some hysterical words as I got closer to the kitchen where they fought.
“No, no, no. Please, Sven, put that away.”
My father’s voice was an angry roar. “You’ve ruined my life. You and that brat. I’ve lost everything because of you. My fortune, my inheritance, and now, my luck. You’ve taken everything from me, just by living. Tell me why I shouldn’t take everything from you, you silly cunt?”