The smell of succulent, basted meatloaf was sweetly strong. It was the second thought she woke up to, realizing that she had forgotten to add sweet potatoes and carrots. But at least the oven timer had come on to cook the meatloaf while they napped. She nudged him hard to urge him to get up, advising that his father was at their door, that it was time to meet fate head on. They had fallen asleep, like sleeping babes, a halo above their heads of peace and contentment.
She dressed hurriedly in black jeans and a paisley, red print blouse; the sleeves long to her wrist, putting on her pendant, the one he had admired in the bookstore. Clearly her husband was lost in dreamland as his eyelids twitched. She pinched his naked bum hard.
“What?” asked Samuel, focusing his blurry vision. “That hurt!”
“Good…get the fuck up! He's here!”
“Who's here?” asked Samuel.
“Your father, Sir William. I'm going downstairs so get dressed.”
“Yeah, yeah already,” said Samuel, coming to a sense of wakefulness, getting up and reaching for his clothes. He looked at his watch; the time was 7:55 PM. His father was early. He, too, like his father, was a man of punctuality, something he insisted upon in business dealings.
Magdalene left the bedroom door ajar, walking down the stairs. Samuel quickly caught up. “No, let me be the one who opens the door,” he insisted.
“OK, babe. I'll see to the meat loaf. Oops, I just remembered that forgot the veggies… a salad and a roll will have to suffice. That OK?”
“Whatever, babe, I love anything you prepare,” he said, planting a kiss on her lips and spanking her backside.
“That better be a teaser for a new session,” she stated. “Which is when?” she asked.
“Late tonight, once we ditch the old man. We'll have to crank up the volume a little now then turn it way down low when you start to show.”
“Sure…tantalize me with waiting,” mocked Magdalene, making Samuel smirk. She wanted to leave him with a light-hearted smile on his face. She felt the inner tension in his voice. Any man, regardless of his station in life, regardless of his self-esteem or power held, would be disconcerted in having to meet his father for the first time. It was just as well, she told herself, that he wasn't given too much time to fret and worry about meeting him. The cataclysmic events that had occurred in the last week should have shaken the foundation of their marriage, but love had fortified their inner strength to meet Samuel's father head on.
Samuel tucked his shirt into his pants and closed his belt. He grabbed a quick glance in the mirror and fingered his hair into place. He unlocked the front door.
Sir William stood, ominously, powerfully erect with his back to the door wearing a black, overcoat with an upright collar reaching the bottom of his head. The sound of the lock clicking open did not entice him to move. He waited until the door was fully open, until the owner of the house would stand opposite him, facing his back. Samuel was in the doorway, not speaking, waiting for him to turn.
And with slow, deliberate gestures, moving within what seemed like suspended time Sir William turned from the left and presented himself to his son, holding in his hand a rectangular wooden box and in the other hand a white paper bag with a red ribbon tied around two twine, looped handles.
“An historic day this is Samuel…at last we meet,” said Sir William.
Samuel was quiet, holding the door open, not stepping backward to allow Sir William to enter, nor holding out his hand for him to shake. “Yes, you met my wife first before you sought out me… dubious.”
“A calculated decision to break the ice. Often my presence is unwelcome with my hybrid children.”
He said it, mused Samuel. He used the term hybrid as though he was scraping mud off his shoes, casually, with hardly a hint of neglect for having abandoned his own son. Samuel pulled back into the house, opening the door all the way.
“Come in then,” he said. “We were asleep when you rang.”
“Ah, an evening nap before company… smart to refuel your batteries.”
Both men looked intently at one another, neither one wanting to shake the other's hand.
Magdalene came up behind Samuel. “Good evening, Sir William.”
“William, please. It is a pleasure to see you again Maggie,” said Sir William.
“Oh yeah, that's right, William. Are those by chance for me?”
“Two gifts of good tiding. I will not join you for dinner but I would very much like to sit and talk with Samuel.”
Samuel's face was stone-cold hard, no smile; no glint in his eyes, a face of wary mistrust looked back at his father.
“Let me take your coat,” said Magdalene, looking at Samuel with pleading eyes to shake him out of his anger. “Samuel is a bit dumbfounded having you here, the way I was when you scared the living you-know-what out of me.”
“There is nothing to fear from me,” reassured Sir William. “I come in peace without an hidden agenda and only wanting to talk.”
“Talk about what?” asked Samuel with pinched hatred in his voice.
“About life, love, about being a hybrid human vampire.”
“I know everything I need to know about living as that kind of human being. I've been a hybrid human all my fucking life, so let's talk about you instead.”
“Ah yes, of course. Question are a natural process of making each other’s acquaintance. Would you invite me first to sit at your table?”
It was not necessary for Sir William to scrutinize closely the surroundings of their home, thanks to having touched Magdalene. Detailed images had clearly formed in his mind. Before having stepped inside, he was familiar with the layout, the house's secret attic, its thriving basement of illegal plants, an unusual mixture of antique and refinished furniture, and most notably, the concealed surveillance system, although a recording device could not capture his face or any image projected by his awesome being. His knowledge of their house was beneficial to his purposes, allowing him to complete the full picture of their lives. And once inside, and while sitting at their dinner table, he would determine if his plan required any modifications.
“Come into the kitchen, William, we're eating shortly. You don't mind if we eat while you watch?” asked Magdalene.
“Not at all, I adore the smell of food, something I have never lost. Food has evolved in leaps and bounds. In my day food was simple, bread, cheese, meat if you were wealthy. Now, food preparation is an entire industry…amazing.”
Samuel's eyes would not leave him, could not allow him one iota of time alone in his home. He stayed close to his father. Their hands had yet to touch. He recalled Magdalene having said that she thought he was psychic; that kernel of information about his father was foremost in his mind.
Magdalene placed the wooden box on the counter and flipped open the clasp. Inside, under velvet covering to protect its outer shell was cradled a bottle of red wine, a Saint-Emillion Grand Crus Class Chateau Fonplegade 1985. And inside the white bag, wrapped in tissue and sealed with a gold sticker, were three bars of dark chocolate; one from Cuba, one from Grenada, and the third from Tanzania, 70-percent pure cocoa. Magdalene picked up the bars and brought them to her nose, inhaling their glorious scent through the plastic.
“These go in the fridge,” she said, opening the door, pleased with his offerings.
“The wine, you will find, is best left uncorked for a minimum of 24 hours to allow it appropriate breathing time, although it is not necessary to pour it through cheesecloth before serving. Vintages on Rideau Street is delightful. I imagine one could spend a good deal of time window shopping.”
“Thanks,” said Magdalene, looking to Samuel, whose gaze was transfixed.
“Enough with niceties. Why have you come?” asked Samuel bluntly.
“Only to chat,” said Sir William.
“Bullshit!” exclaimed Samuel, no longer bothering to hide his anger. He pulled his body back as Magdalene set on the table the glass dish of meatloaf; the barbeque sauce encrusted on the glass, changing its clear colour to baked rust. She took off the lid and the steam spiraled up to the ceiling, then took out two salad plates and filled the tall, slender glasses with fresh water.
“Your anger is understandable. Consider this, however. If I had a hidden agenda and I wanted to hurt you, neither one of you could prevent me.”
“A veiled threat, if ever I heard one,” scoffed Samuel.
“Rest assured I come in peace, to discuss, observe and leave.”
“Good,” said Samuel.
Magdalene cut a large piece of meatloaf and placed it on his plate. “No sweet potatoes?” asked Samuel.
“Remember, forgot to put them in, sorry, honey,” she answered.
Sir William smiled. He flared his nostrils and inhaled the aroma of her cooking, shaking his head and smacking his lips.
“Smells wonderful…your life is happy and solid?” asked Sir William.
“What fucking business is that of yours? You never gave two shits about me when I struggled in the orphanages, assholes either wanting to either lay me up or lay me down.”
“Adversity builds endurance and endurance leads to character. It has never been my experience that poverty leads to character. Realistically, poverty leads to envy. Caring for you was not practical. I travel extensively. There are more than one hundred of my children scattered throughout the world.”
“Only?” asked Samuel defiantly.
“Hopefully one grandchild soon to be added,” commented Sir William. This comment turned Samuel's face to a brilliant, raging red as his anger welled up in his belly on the verge of exploding. He re-directed and compressed his anger into his fist, clenching the fork tightly until the metal was bent out of shape.
Sir William observed him closely.
“I assure you, your wife is very pregnant. The home test verified the results, did it not, Maggie?” asked Sir William.
Magdalene did not answer. She waited on pins and needles, waited for Samuel to rush his father. Pride filled her as Samuel controlled himself. The rush of excitement in her loins grew, wanting to be taken and stretched by Samuel in their room.
“In time your pregnancy will have an impact on your sexual life, forcing you to curtail the nightly escapades in that special room. You should at least be able to enjoy each other for a little while longer,” noted Sir William.
“I guess there's not much about us you don't already know,” said Magdalene.
“True, few hold mystery for me,” answered Sir William. “Although I would be eternally grateful if you would graciously share your dreams, Maggie. I realize I ask a great deal. You see, I have not slept in almost one thousand years and therefore I have not dreamed. It would allow me a vicarious thrill to read the dreams of another person, particularly yours.”
Sir William realized in asking Magdalene for information on her dreams that she would have to leave the table, allowing him a private moment with Samuel.
She took a piece of meatloaf and dabbed on a little barbeque sauce and ate it, nodding her head, acknowledging that his request could be accommodated.
“My dream book…it's upstairs. You two all right if I leave you alone? You won't break out into a fist fight and pummel each other?” she asked, looking at Samuel.
“No, sweetie, go and get your dream book,” said Samuel smiling. His wife would always melt his heart. He could not bring himself to lose his temper with her.
Samuel looked at Sir William, who turned his ear, listening to Magdalene as she climbed the stairs. When he believed her to be out of earshot, he spoke plainly.
“Do not test me, Samuel. I am not one to be tested. Your wife is pregnant and I am genuinely happy for you. It is impudent of me to ask… I shall in any event…is she privy to the agreement you made with Tina Sharpe?”
“Motherfucker!” said Samuel. “I was right!”
“Right about my involvement which you only recently concluded following your visit with Tina this morning, to begin the process, am I correct?”
“What about Cain and what's his name… Raven. I suppose they're your sons?”
“Correct. They have been with me for several hundred years, which means you have a very, very long life ahead of you my son. Enjoy your time with Magdalene because it will surely see an end. You will find a broken heart cannot fully mend itself. Humans must learn how to let go before falling in love with another.”
“Fuck you!” said Samuel, pushing away his plate.
“Do you plan on telling Magdalene about your agreement?”
“When I'm ready, I will, not because you're here,” answered Samuel.
The toilet flushed. Samuel waited for the sounds of footsteps to come down the stairs. There were none. He surmised Magdalene was in the washroom combing out her hair. Samuel's anger momentarily clouded his perception, not hearing Magdalene returning. Sir William was keenly aware of her presence, knowing that she had stopped at the base of the stairs, listening, holding her dream book. The volume of Samuel's voice carried up, directly into the bathroom, along the pipes, scurrying like a mouse between the floorboards. She heard the very distinctive word agreement used by Sir William. The fact that Tina was involved with Samuel and an agreement was troubling. Although Magdalene was not able to decipher the connection of their mutual agreement, she quickly deduced that it would have to do with JP or the retrieval of the sketch. Magdalene made no excuses for Tina, believing her capable of resorting to any lengths to get what she wanted.
“The truth is a wily beast, Samuel, and is rarely kept permanently locked up.”
“Be that as it may…when I'm ready to tell her, I will. If you so much as utter one fucking word to her….” he stopped himself short.
“Generally I avoid meddling in marriages.”
“Good, stay the fuck out of ours and the sooner you leave the better.”
“I am surprised, Samuel, I had anticipated your animosity which I have experienced countless times with every hybrid child I have visited, yet it typically fades over time and is replaced with curiosity. Here is a number where I can be reached. I am renting a home on Charlotte Street, not far from your house. I will not take up any more of your time,” said Sir William getting up from the kitchen table. “I shall see myself out,” he said.
Samuel pushed his card away.
As Sir William walked to the front door, Magdalene stood at the foot of the stairs. He smiled. “I shall leave you to your dinner,” said Sir William.
“Thank you for the wine and chocolate,” she said. She handed him his coat and he bowed his head. The door was closed. Her mind was flooded with one, all-important question: what could Samuel have that Tina could possibly want?
Magdalene returned to the kitchen, placing her hands on Samuel's shoulders, massaging. “I'm so proud of you,” she said.
“For what?” answered Samuel with an angry tone.
“For not killing him, that's probably what you wanted to do.”
“Fucking right, that's what I wanted to do, the arrogant, fucking bastard. Who the fuck does he think he is coming to our home, no apology for abandoning me, no explanations, just showing his smug face? I'm glad he's gone,” said Samuel.
“Honey…I think we should forego our session tonight until you calm down and if you behave, I'll say hello to Mister Gargantuan before you go to bed.”
“Mister Who?” asked Samuel with a chuckle, finally relaxing.
“I decided that's the name for your cock, Mister Gargantuan,” laughed Magdalene.
“Perfect name,” said Samuel, getting up from the table. He picked up his wife and held her high, smiling, then dropped her back onto the floor and bent lower to her stomach, kissing and rubbing her belly. “A perfect name given to him by a perfect wife,” said Samuel.
Magdalene's mind was with Samuel and not with Samuel. She had made a decision, a difficult yet necessary decision and one that could not be avoided, to pay a visit to the duplicitous Tina Sharpe to determine what agreement had been struck with her husband. She detested the idea of dealing with her. It had to be done and it had to be done in such a manner that her husband would not be drawn into the drama.
“Come on, honey, let's finish dinner and watch some TV.”
“I'm with you,” said Samuel. “You're the only person whose company I want. Before I forget, the boys are coming over in the morning to set up the equipment. What time is good for you?” he asked. She thought about the visit to Tina and answered without hesitation.
“First thing in morning, if they can drag themselves out of the sack. I might ask them to drive me to a few places to finish some errands. You go to work and I'll take care of the rest. That OK, gorgeous boy?”
“You're my gorgeous girl,” replied Samuel. “I'll tell them 9:00 AM.” Magdalene laughed. “That should be a neat trick…getting those two out of bed on time.”