Chapter 8: 7: perhaps one day he will come home

Penelope

I am content in my weaving, barely noticing night as it falls. Telemachus came home early from school saying his teachers let him go as he's far ahead of the others. He is ahead, but his face was stained with tears. He does get bullied so. I didn't press him and we barely spoke over dinner. Now I'm back pretending the world doesn't exist. It's a bad fault of mine, but when the world is cruel I'd sooner live in memories. And right now I would pay any price to be back in that olive tree in my father's garden. Eating stolen chocolates and watching the stars come out.

"Look, there's the scorpion, the one that chases Orion across the sky," Eulises said, lounging in the branches, staring up at the heavens.

"I don't see it," I said, tossing him another chocolate. He caught it, grinning wickedly.

"It's just there, see that line below this branch here—oh it's rotten to describe. I've a book. I'm afraid I usually have little patience for staring at things, but when I was small my father had a book he'd read from and tell me the stories of the stars, and point them out to me," he said, tipping his godly head back, shaking it a bit as though to get a fly from his face.

"Sounds nice," I said, as I'd never had such a book.

"Do you think they will restock these?" he asked, studying his treat.

"I'm going to hope so, but I may not be of the humor to go in," I said, "I don't like parties."

"Why?"

"I mean, I suppose they're fine but everyone will be fawning over Helen like they do, they're disgusting, men, present company not excepted."

"Offense taken," he laughed, not offended at all.

"Well aren't you interested in men?" I mean he was wearing a purple coat and slinking about being pretty.

He laughed then, lightly, like the world could never amuse him but I did, "I am interested in people who interest me. Nothing more nothing less, usually that is nobody. Because very few can hold my attention for long."

"Oh, so I should be honored?" I asked.

"Yes, definitely," he said, grinning broadly, though, "Come on though. You must get some pleasure out of parties even if your sister is the more popular one."

"Didn't you see her?"

"Hmm? No," he said.

"Liar."

"Yes?"

"You saw her; everyone sees her she's beautiful," I said, smothering a laugh.

"So are you," he said, frowning.

"I am not," I said. I knew what I looked like. I was short and thick compared to my sisters. I had plain dark blonde hair that I usually just braided. I was fine looking but nothing like special. My mother said I'd get a nice enough husband. That was all. I didn't much care about it either because I didn't care to just marry anyway and I didn't like talking with people. "People don't look at me."

"I refuse to believe that," he said.

"It's true, nobody in that room probably even realizes I'm related to Helen let alone a member of the family, they won't notice I'm gone, I guarantee it," I said.

"Fine, I bet you they would recognize you," he said.

"Bet me what?" I asked, frowning.

"A box of chocolates, I bet you, a box of chocolates, that if we go back in there sporting stupid accents that do not match, claiming to be entrepreneurs seeking investors for something I've not thought of but will presently, they'll notice you in ten minutes," he said, sitting up, a sly grin on his face.

"You're on," I said, grinning as well.

We returned inside, sporting accents that neither one of could ever replicate that belonged to no country whatsoever, using very unrealistic names. And before I knew it two hours had gone by. We probably wouldn't have been found out except by that point we were both giggling like school children and near clinging to each other for support, after having fully convinced one of my actual relatives and Helen's new fiancé (well later he was, we didn't know that then) that we were representing miners from the north and were gaining capital to dig out a mine that had caved in on twenty men.

We had to walk away because as we both heaped on details attempting to make the other laugh; we nearly did in front the men. Finally, we did stagger away with Eulises mumbling something about it being hard to speak of as it was so emotional for us.

And we were in a corner of the room laughing our stupid heads off, him holding my arm for support tears near falling from his eyes he was laughing so hard.

"Stop—you are ridiculous," I said, struggling to gain composure.

"I shall not; now I want to see how far this can go," he laughed, a hand over his mouth.

"Is this man bothering you?" a rather stately woman in a dark blue dress came up behind me, rather severely, glaring at Eulises.

"My ladyz dis iz my fellow reseeerch asocitiate---" he began, smothering his laughter.

"Shut up, you— is this man bothering you, dear?" she asked me, very nicely. I would later learn with great surprise that this was his actual mother. Yes, apparently that was how she choose to greet people that her son was speaking to.

"No, I was just conferring with my business partner," I said, in my false accent, which per the agreement did not match his, at all. Again, this was his mother.

"Ve have de business relations to dizcuz—," he took my arm and tried to walk away only to get caught by the back of his neck. This was when I realized that they knew each other.

"I'm selling you," she said to him, like mothers do, and then walked away, saying over her shoulder, "Don't talk to him, young lady, and believe nothing he says."

"Don't mind her, on with the game, she's only cross I didn't get her involved and she's losing a bet to my father that I'd have started conning people by now," he laughed.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh, sorry, that was my mum, as I said don't mind her—,"

"That's how your mother addresses you?" I laughed.

"Yes?" he shrugged, "As I said she's only cross, as I happen to know she and my father had money riding on what point in the evening I'd get distracted and start lying for no reason what so ever."

"You are lying for no reason whatsoever," I said.

"I have an excellent reason," he said, eyes glittering in the candle light, "You."

What was I supposed to do then? Not fall in love with him?

The night passed. Eventually they were all to go home and my family did sweep me away. He smiled and let them do it, without so much as a goodbye. I confess I barely slept that night. I had not laughed that much in ages. And I didn't want to hope I'd see him again. I barely got his full real name out of him and after spending an evening with him I had every reason to believe it wasn't his real name.

The next day came entirely too slowly, and I didn't bother to hope for anything. At least I had fun. And I could pretend he liked me. It was more than I had before.

But I'd be lying if I didn't say that I leapt when the servants announced there was a young man at the door. Definitely not him. Clearly not him. Why would he come back? It was somebody else for Helen, surely.

"Miss Penelope it's for you," needless to say I did run.

Of course it was him. Now in a dark suit, same cocky grin on his face.

"I think you won the bet," he said, by way of greeting, eyes jumping to me and not straying as I hurried down the stairs. The servants looked surprised than concerned.

"What?" I said. I'd forgotten

He held up a box of chocolates, smiling, "You won it seemed. Which isn't fair at all."

"Yes, it is—it was your idea," I said, folding my arms.

"Walk with me?" he asked, eyeing the servants.

We went out into the garden. Half the household peered through the windows.

"And your half of the take last night," he said, handing me a crisp check.

"What—? You were actually taking those people's money?" I laughed.

"Yes? They gave it to me? What was I to do, NOT take it? That would be entirely uncivil," he said, adjusting his jacket.

"You're something," I said, grinning.

"So are you."

"You really came all this way to deliver the chocolates?" I asked, holding them and the check.

"And to look at you again," he said, his smile softening, "I bet you've never been to the top of a lighthouse."

"Bet me what?"

"I bet you a single rose, that when you go to the top of a lighthouse with me, tomorrow, will be the first time," he said.

"They don't just let people in lighthouses," I said.

"So that's a no, you owe me a rose, what do you say?" he asked.

"I can't just go places with a young man," I said, "My father wouldn't allow it."

"So don't tell him----?" Very confused.

"You realize how unsafe that sounds?"

"Yes, I could be murdered. It's very terrible and I might cry, but it is a risk I'm willing to take," he said.

"Fine, but if you're planning anything terrible know I carry a knife and have two older brothers who taught me well how to gut a man."

"I can't imagine a more pleasurable death than at your hands, dear lady," he said, his lips twitching but unable to stop smiling. I realized he hadn't taken his eyes off of me.

"You're on, but I bet you can't talk our way into a lighthouse," I said.

"Bet me what?"

"If I win, you owe me more chocolate," I said, folding my arms.

"Gladly," he grinned.

Of course he could do it. He could do anything he set his mind too, I soon found. I didn't always have to sneak out. More often than not he'd come with the pretense of being somebody else like a footman or a messenger and fetch me and then we'd go off into the city together. My father didn't really notice. Of course my sisters did.

"You're spending a lot of time with that man, from Ithaca," Helen said, as she sat in my room one night.

"So?" I shrugged, "He's my friend."

"Men aren't friends with women," she said.

"Says you."

"No, says everyone. Men are not just friends with women, they don't think like that. They only want to bed you, this one is no different, even if he says he is," she says.

"He doesn't say he's anything," I said, but I felt a bit bad. "It's not—it really isn't like that. He hasn't even kissed me."

"Good."

"Helen, come on, I'm just having fun. He's my friend that's all," I said, even though then I loved him in ways my heart couldn't name.

"What does your relationship consist of? Daring each other to do increasingly stupid things?"

I thought about that:

1)    We bet that we couldn't get away with pretending to be foreigners at my own father's party (we did he owed me chocolates)

2)    We bet that he couldn't talk us into a lighthouse (he did and I owed him to list off all the countries in the world with my eyes closed)

3)    We bet that we couldn't ride the train all night without throwing up (we did)

4)    We bet that we couldn't attend a foreign dignitary reception as foreign dignitaries which we are not (we did it was divine and hilarious)

5)    We bet that we couldn't visit every single sweet shop in the city in one day (we did but were sick)

6)    We bet that we couldn't put together a map of the world from copies of little maps (we did)

7)    We bet that we couldn't go an entire day without talking (we failed and had to jump off a pier with our clothes on)

8)    We bet that he couldn't go an entire day without telling a lie (he failed within minutes, he had to take me horseback riding at midnight)

9)    We bet that we couldn't get through the entire day with our sleeves sewn together with no one noticing (we almost failed but Eulises convinced them it was a medical condition)

10)    We bet that we could go to more than five different shops having urgent, melodramatic conversations without having the police called (we went to three before someone summoned the authorities so we lost and had to talk our way out of the authorities without revealing our real identities which we did winning the second bet).

"Because you've told me where you've been and that's what it sounds like you do, and it sounds like you dare each other to do increasingly stupid things," she says.

"No, that is ridiculous, that is not all we do," in retrospect and at the time, based on the above list, that was exactly all we did and I knew it.

"I'm only trying to protect you," she sighed.

"I'm fine, I haven't been this good in—I don't know, I haven't felt like this," I said.

"Uhoh, you've got it bad," she laughed.

"I do not, if he didn't come back tomorrow I wouldn't miss him," but we both knew I was lying.

I'm supposed to say now that I wish I didn't miss him. That's not true. I'm glad I miss him. Because missing him means that I truly cherish every moment we spent together. My memories are leaves in autumn. They turn more brilliant with each passing hour, and all the more beautiful even though they're destined to soon wither and die.

I sigh, getting up from my work. My fingers are sore. But it hardly matters. I must work until I'm too tired to go to my cold bed.

I go to the window, smiling out into the evening breeze. I kiss the tips of my fingers and gently blow him a kiss goodnight.

"Bet you come home soon," I say, my voice cracking. Then I close the window, and go to my quiet bed.