13, Rue Therese - Elena Mauli Shapiro [59]
“Oh—I know.”
He kisses her again. Already in a state of swooning arousal, Louise staggers back down the entryway; they take a few steps that way, their lips still connected. When they break apart, she takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom. They stand at the foot of the bed for a moment, close together, as if they are considering once more what they are about to do. Without saying a word, Xavier pushes her back until she falls on the bed with him on top of her—with his strong, warm body on top of her. She can feel he is hard for her oh—forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us—the pure unrestrained joy of it…
He begins to nibble the side of her neck; she starts to squirm, letting out something that sounds like a little hiccup when she feels his teeth—
hallowed be Thy name Thy kingdom come Thy will be done—
“Don’t worry,” he whispers into her ear, “I won’t bite—hard.”
She is practically sobbing with happiness when she reminds him, “Oh, make sure not to… oh, Xavier… make sure not to leave any… marks…”
He hikes up her blouse and pins her down on the mattress by the wrists, and she begins to shiver uncontrollably as he kisses and nibbles her stomach and breasts. When he moves her brassiere aside to suck her nipple into his mouth, she gasps. “Ah… please. Oh, please, Xavier… please.”
lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil—
Later Louise will wonder why it occurred to her to say that word (please); she never had in that context before. Yet today it seems fitting, and as he works her out of her clothes inch by inch, it keeps springing to her lips like a refrain. Once or twice it makes Xavier smile.
deliver us—
When he finally penetrates her, she says thank you.
Amen.
Dieu rit
THE NEXT MORNING, LOUISE stays in bed while Henri gets dressed and makes himself a cup of tea. Through the haze of her half sleep, she hears him walk around the apartment. Then she hears an unlikely sound: the doorbell. Who could it be at this hour?
She listens to Henri’s steps, the creak of the front door opening, voices. A young woman’s voice. It sounds like—
This is strange.
Henri’s steps again. He pops his head into the bedroom. “It’s Garance. She wants to see you. She looks wound up about something. I’m going to work now, but you’ll have to tell me what she wanted from you tonight.”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No. She seems frightened of me. Maybe it’s something woman-related.”
Louise shrugs. “Don’t know about that. Have a good day at work, dear.”
“See you tonight,” Henri answers, and leaves.
Still gummy-eyed from a night filled with bizarre and distressing dreams, Louise slips out of bed and pads her way to the living room in her nightgown, without so much as putting on a pair of slippers. Garance is sitting on the couch in an uncharacteristically subdued way: slightly hunched over, with her schoolbag gathered on her lap, looking as if she is ready to make a quick dash.
“Good morning, Garance,” Louise says. “Would you like some tea?”
The girl shakes her head no.
“What’s the matter? What is this shyness? Shouldn’t you be on your way to school right now?”
“I won’t be long,” says the girl softly. “I just came to give you a gift.”
“What for? It’s not my birthday.”
“It’s something I made for you.”
Louise is both intrigued and unnerved by this irregular display. She goes and sits next to Garance, close enough so that their bodies are almost touching. The girl opens her bag and pulls out a small red notebook. She presents it to Louise, who takes it with a tentative smile. When she opens it and pages through it, she sees that it is entirely filled with sheet music, handwritten by Garance herself, the lines the notes rest on drawn in with a ruler.
“Garance, did you… Did you compose all these?”
“Yes. I wrote them all for you. I thought you should have them.”
“But… but why?”
As Louise looks at the girl’s face, at her shining eyes, she is suddenly conscious of the flimsiness of her nightgown and the soles of her bare feet being tickled by the carpet. Something