Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey (31 page)

We showered and dressed for breakfast at a leisurely pace. Everything at Twisted Oak occurred at a natural pace. There were few clocks and even fewer obligations, only time in its purest essence, within which we cultivated our love for one another. I could easily lose myself in this time, this place, and understood how Monique came to love it.

Jackson and Marie-Louise had not made it out to the veranda for breakfast yet, so Mr. Delacroix and I sat and sipped coffee while we waited. A bowl of fruit and a vase of purple and yellow flowers sat as the centerpiece. Thomas brought the
Times-Picayune
and
Wall Street Journal
for Mr. Delacroix to read. From behind his newspaper wall, Mr. Delacroix handed me Marie-Louise’s notes. I was amazed at the small, perfect script of Marie’s hand, uniform and compact. It began:

“Sir,” I said, “Marie is an excellent writer.”

“Nez, the woman isn’t dumb, she’s just different. Keep reading,” he said without lowering the paper.

“Oh, Mr. Delacroix,” I said.

“I know, my lady, it’s fucking pathetic.” He put his paper down.

“Sir, it’s so sad and I can understand your disgust with Jackson.” I sipped my coffee and gave the letter back to Mr. Delacroix.

“It’s really a damned embarrassment on this house, this whole thing.” He shook his head and popped a dewberry in his mouth. “Happy birthday to me,” he said sarcastically. “Ya know, cher, Jackson’s a good man generally, but he’s the one who really pushed my dad into going way out kinky back then. I’m not saying Dad was innocent, not by a long shot—he was totally into it. But I think Jackson didn’t share the same kind of limits my dad had.” He harrumphed and continued. “In many ways, Jackson’s a lot like Marie. If it feels good, do it, and if you like it, don’t stop.”

“My lord, maybe having you helped your dad understand healthier limits and boundaries,” I offered.

“Probably. I mean, I’m not a dad yet, but I can see how having kids would settle you down. Like, for example, if you and I had kids running about this morning, I’d have quelled my impulse to give you a punishment fuck in the sitting room. I’d have had to wait until later.”

“Certainly, the contract would have to be revised and new rules set in place to protect the children. When I look at Marie-Louise, I see a child who’s seen too much too soon,” I said, wondering exactly how much Mr. Delacroix had seen when he was a child. True to form, he read my mind.

“I didn’t have a clue what Dad and Jackson were up to around here when I was a kid. I was little when my mother died, and clearly, she wasn’t into it, but she never let on to me what Dad was up to.” He paused, sipped his coffee, and grabbed a strawberry. “I had a nanny though, who I think knew what was happening. She knew at certain hours Dad and Jack were not to be disturbed, and this is when she took me out to play or sent me on errands when I got older. She would send me to the village or old man Benjamin’s to get my root beer.”

I could sense his mind scouring his past, looking for clues to an alternate reality.

“I swear I had no idea what the two of them were up to. As far as I was concerned, they were best friends and business partners and it was normal having them both around all the time; that is, when they weren’t in the city for work. I felt lucky because in many ways it was like having two dads. Jack was like an uncle to me, nothing sordid or out of the ordinary. Everyone out here had large extended families. It was so normal. The three of us had a lot of fun together.”

“Did you know about them before your dad died, my lord?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Dad told me a couple of times that he and Jackson had a special relationship, but I was young and didn’t quite get it. After he died, I remember Jackson crying like a baby and telling Thomas that he’d never love anyone again, that he wanted to die. That I remember. He was sitting in the parlor just bawling and I remember thinking to myself that he was acting like a girl. As I got older, I put two and two together. By the time I was twelve or thirteen, I’d figured it out, and Jackson talked to me about it too. I wasn’t surprised, but he didn’t tell me about the dynamics of their relationship until I was about fourteen or so. I guess that’s how old I was when he showed me the upstairs.”

“Did he show you like you showed me, with demonstrations?” I asked, feeling uneasy and angry that he had been so young. I suddenly felt an overwhelming need to protect my lord from a demon, and the veracity of this need caught me off-guard.

He took my tender wrist in his hand and squeezed it. “Nezzie, why were you punished this morning?”

“My lord, I am sorry.”

“There aren’t any excuses for it, Nez.” He squeezed harder, causing red-hot pain.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“That’s better,” he said and released my wrist. His fingers left white marks where the skin had gone red, and the pain sent distinct signals to my clit, making it hard for me to concentrate. “No, he didn’t demonstrate the first time.”

“But you were collared within the year, sir?”

“Yes, it moved fast with us, but it was good. As much as I knew back then, which in retrospect wasn’t much, I was in love with Jack.” He smiled and shook his head. “Look, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. Nothing happened with Jack and me before this, and I knew exactly what I was getting into. Just like you, Jackson gave me all the information, and over those few months, I came to understand the nature of his love for my dad and for me.” His eyes misted over. “But he was in love with my father’s memory, not me.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said, taking his hand.

He tossed the strawberry into his mouth. “I’m not. I learned a lot from that experience. It helped make me who I am, and because of it, I can more fully appreciate the real, true love you and I have. I very plainly know the difference between the real thing and bullshit.”

“But you still love Jackson, sir?”

“Oh, absolutely, but not in that way; I’m straight, Nez. I know now that I could never have stayed with him the way he wanted me to. Clearly, he knew it too. That’s why he collared Marie-Louise.” He leaned back and shook the crease out of the newspaper. “God, what a fuckup that was.” He disappeared behind the
Journal
.

I wondered where to begin with Marie-Louise as I watched a squirrel jump from branch to branch in the nearby oaks. The sun was warm and the scent of sweet olive filled the air; what a strangely perfect place.

“Happy birthday, sir. Ma’am, would you care for more coffee?” Thomas’s voice startled me from my reverie. Mr. Delacroix did not respond to his birthday greeting.

“Yes, please, and bring some for Mr. Delacroix as well. Could I have some orange juice?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Thomas said as he cleared the coffee carafe from the table.

“You speak to Thomas as if you’ve lived here your whole life,” Mr. Delacroix said from behind his paper.

A white ibis strolled across the croquet lawn. His long legs each lifted high as if he were wading in the shallows. His walk looked out of place outside of the marsh.

“Mr. Delacroix, why is that ibis up here?” I asked.

He lowered the paper. “He’s a pretty one; a smart one too. There must be an alligator in his regular spot, so he came up here till the thing goes away. He’s no dummy, and he ain’t gonna be anyone’s breakfast, either.”

“An alligator?” I said in alarm.

Mr. Delacroix slammed his paper down. “Damn it, Nezzie, an alligator
what
?”

“My lord,” I said.

“I swear you’re doing it on purpose now. Fuckin’ hell, I’ll have your ass for my breakfast,” he said, shaking his paper. “If you think your ass is sore now . . .” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” I said, stifling a giggle; he sounded like a grumpy old man.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked without dropping the paper.

“No, sir,” I said, and sipped my water in hopes of hiding my smile. I continued to watch the ibis as he awkwardly made his way back toward the water’s edge.

“Nezzie,” he said without dropping the paper.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Come rub my shoulders for me, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you. I’ve been tense,” he said as he set the paper down. “I guess the stress of finally turning thirty is getting to me a bit.”

“I’m sorry. Have I added to your troubles?”

“Oh god, no. Well, yes, when you play games with salutations. Please stop it,” he said.

“My lord, I promise that I don’t do it on purpose. Sometimes I forget when I’m overwhelmed. It’s not every day that I hear there’s an alligator in the backyard. Hell, sir, it’s not every day the backyard is hundreds of acres, either. And it’s your birthday! The whole situation is very overwhelming to me. To you it’s normal, but to me it’s extraordinary.”

“Come here, baby,” he said and led me around to stand above him, one of those rare moments he chose for me to be on top. He wrapped his arms around my waist and put his head between my breasts. My hands cradled his curls and held him close. He was like a child in that moment, eyes closed, vulnerable. I felt his trust in me, and knew I would protect him with my life from the demons that knocked at his door.