The Saint
Page 68
“I have no idea why you think I would be interested in theology, but ask anyway.”
“If I were to fool around with a woman, would it count as sex?”
“If the rumors about Sam are even half true, I can guarantee she would make it count.”
“You have the coolest friends.”
The four hours passed in what felt like minutes. She’d been worried the trip would be weird or awkward, but instead she discovered Søren, despite being a pompous, pretentious, arrogant, overeducated snob, was the easiest person in the world to talk to. As they neared the house, Eleanor almost regretted the end of the trip. She could talk to him forever.
“Is that it?” she asked, stopping the car at the end of a long driveway.
The sun had set two hours ago, but a spotlight shone on the house ahead. Søren had called it a “Federal” style mansion, whatever that meant. He said his father had married into money and gutted his first wife’s family home, remodeling it to his exact specifications. It had two stories, two wings, twelve bedrooms, fourteen bathrooms and six thousand square feet. Søren also added that he’d rather be back in the leper colony than back at his childhood home.
“That’s it.”
She saw his jaw clench and his eyes narrow.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Little One. Only bad memories from that house.”
She reached over and covered his hand with hers.
“I’m here. I don’t know if that helps any.”
Søren raised her hand and kissed the back of it.
“It helps more than you can imagine.”
She eased the car down the driveway and at Søren’s instructions followed the winding path to the back of the house, where they parked. She turned off the car, got out and stretched a few seconds before pulling her bag from the trunk.
“Oh, another thing, Eleanor, before we go in the house.”
“Is it the body? Is the body in the house?” She tried not to make a face. “No offense but dead bodies creep me out.”
“No body at the house, I promise.”
“Then what’s up?”
“You’re here with Claire, not with me.”
She knew she was here with him, for him. Still, she nodded.
A light on the back porch flipped on.
“Here we go,” Søren sighed. “Brace yourself.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Hurricane Claire is about to hit.”
20
Eleanor
A DOOR SLAMMED, A LOUD SOUND THAT WAS FOLLOWED by an even louder sound—a squeal and a laugh and then a blur of arms and legs racing toward the car.
A girl launched herself into Søren’s arms and wrapped herself bodily around him.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, burying her head against his shoulder.
“I would never have guessed,” Søren said, breathless. The girl must have knocked the wind out of him with the force of her attack hug.
He put her down and leaned back against the car.
“I missed you, Frater,” the girl said, grinning broadly.
“Missed you, too, Soror.”
“I didn’t miss either of you,” Eleanor said, deciding to interrupt if only to get the awkward introductions out of the way.
“Claire, this is Eleanor.” He crooked his finger and Eleanor stepped out of the shadows. At one glance Eleanor could see Claire and Søren were related. She had his mouth and nose, his pale complexion and long dark eyelashes. She didn’t have his height, however, or his blond hair. And although very pretty, she wasn’t nearly as striking as Søren. “Eleanor is a friend from church. I didn’t want you alone here at the house.”
Claire looked up at Søren.
“Sure,” Claire said, glancing at Eleanor and then back at her brother. “She’s here for me. Got ya.” Claire gave him an exaggerated wink. Eleanor liked this girl already.
“Hi. Call me Elle. He only calls me Eleanor because he has a stick up his ass.”
“You noticed that, too?” Claire asked.
Eleanor turned to Søren.
“Oh, yeah, she and I are gonna get along fine.”
“If I had a white flag,” Søren said, “I’d wave it first to surrender and hang myself with it after.”
The three of them walked into the house together. With that auspicious start, Eleanor expected a pleasant evening of hanging around the house and chatting. But as soon as they entered through the back door, Søren lost his smile and his sense of humor.
“Is Elizabeth here?” he asked Claire. Søren had his sister’s hand in his and seemed unwilling or unable to let it go.
“She said she’d be back soon.”
“Did anyone give you a room yet?”
“I’m upstairs in the red room. I took the one with the big bed.”
“Good. I want you in your room now. You and Eleanor.”
“It’s only ten-thirty,” Claire protested. If she hadn’t argued the point, Eleanor would have.
“I don’t care. I need to talk to Elizabeth, so I can’t keep an eye on you two. It’s late, we all have a big day tomorrow and I can’t have either of you roaming around the house by yourselves at night. If you leave the room, you two leave together. And you lock the door and don’t let anyone in the room but me. You understand?”
“Fine. Fine. If you insist. He’s so bossy.” Claire said the last sentence to her and Eleanor started to agree, but Søren shot her a “don’t you dare” look. Claire stood on a step so she could face her brother eye to eye. “Good night, Frater. Tomorrow you’re going to play with me, though.”
“If I were to fool around with a woman, would it count as sex?”
“If the rumors about Sam are even half true, I can guarantee she would make it count.”
“You have the coolest friends.”
The four hours passed in what felt like minutes. She’d been worried the trip would be weird or awkward, but instead she discovered Søren, despite being a pompous, pretentious, arrogant, overeducated snob, was the easiest person in the world to talk to. As they neared the house, Eleanor almost regretted the end of the trip. She could talk to him forever.
“Is that it?” she asked, stopping the car at the end of a long driveway.
The sun had set two hours ago, but a spotlight shone on the house ahead. Søren had called it a “Federal” style mansion, whatever that meant. He said his father had married into money and gutted his first wife’s family home, remodeling it to his exact specifications. It had two stories, two wings, twelve bedrooms, fourteen bathrooms and six thousand square feet. Søren also added that he’d rather be back in the leper colony than back at his childhood home.
“That’s it.”
She saw his jaw clench and his eyes narrow.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Little One. Only bad memories from that house.”
She reached over and covered his hand with hers.
“I’m here. I don’t know if that helps any.”
Søren raised her hand and kissed the back of it.
“It helps more than you can imagine.”
She eased the car down the driveway and at Søren’s instructions followed the winding path to the back of the house, where they parked. She turned off the car, got out and stretched a few seconds before pulling her bag from the trunk.
“Oh, another thing, Eleanor, before we go in the house.”
“Is it the body? Is the body in the house?” She tried not to make a face. “No offense but dead bodies creep me out.”
“No body at the house, I promise.”
“Then what’s up?”
“You’re here with Claire, not with me.”
She knew she was here with him, for him. Still, she nodded.
A light on the back porch flipped on.
“Here we go,” Søren sighed. “Brace yourself.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Hurricane Claire is about to hit.”
20
Eleanor
A DOOR SLAMMED, A LOUD SOUND THAT WAS FOLLOWED by an even louder sound—a squeal and a laugh and then a blur of arms and legs racing toward the car.
A girl launched herself into Søren’s arms and wrapped herself bodily around him.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, burying her head against his shoulder.
“I would never have guessed,” Søren said, breathless. The girl must have knocked the wind out of him with the force of her attack hug.
He put her down and leaned back against the car.
“I missed you, Frater,” the girl said, grinning broadly.
“Missed you, too, Soror.”
“I didn’t miss either of you,” Eleanor said, deciding to interrupt if only to get the awkward introductions out of the way.
“Claire, this is Eleanor.” He crooked his finger and Eleanor stepped out of the shadows. At one glance Eleanor could see Claire and Søren were related. She had his mouth and nose, his pale complexion and long dark eyelashes. She didn’t have his height, however, or his blond hair. And although very pretty, she wasn’t nearly as striking as Søren. “Eleanor is a friend from church. I didn’t want you alone here at the house.”
Claire looked up at Søren.
“Sure,” Claire said, glancing at Eleanor and then back at her brother. “She’s here for me. Got ya.” Claire gave him an exaggerated wink. Eleanor liked this girl already.
“Hi. Call me Elle. He only calls me Eleanor because he has a stick up his ass.”
“You noticed that, too?” Claire asked.
Eleanor turned to Søren.
“Oh, yeah, she and I are gonna get along fine.”
“If I had a white flag,” Søren said, “I’d wave it first to surrender and hang myself with it after.”
The three of them walked into the house together. With that auspicious start, Eleanor expected a pleasant evening of hanging around the house and chatting. But as soon as they entered through the back door, Søren lost his smile and his sense of humor.
“Is Elizabeth here?” he asked Claire. Søren had his sister’s hand in his and seemed unwilling or unable to let it go.
“She said she’d be back soon.”
“Did anyone give you a room yet?”
“I’m upstairs in the red room. I took the one with the big bed.”
“Good. I want you in your room now. You and Eleanor.”
“It’s only ten-thirty,” Claire protested. If she hadn’t argued the point, Eleanor would have.
“I don’t care. I need to talk to Elizabeth, so I can’t keep an eye on you two. It’s late, we all have a big day tomorrow and I can’t have either of you roaming around the house by yourselves at night. If you leave the room, you two leave together. And you lock the door and don’t let anyone in the room but me. You understand?”
“Fine. Fine. If you insist. He’s so bossy.” Claire said the last sentence to her and Eleanor started to agree, but Søren shot her a “don’t you dare” look. Claire stood on a step so she could face her brother eye to eye. “Good night, Frater. Tomorrow you’re going to play with me, though.”
