The Midnight Estate #4
He reached across the table and flipped the edge of her plate. Marie knew better than to try to catch it. The plate went flying,
shattering on the floor beside her chair, a mess of lettuce and tomato and porcelain and cucumber.
Rupert went back to his cold meatballs. Unhurried, he ate every bite, then he wordlessly rose and went to use the bathroom.
Marie sat ramrod straight, her eyes dry, gazing unseeing towards Rupert’s place. When he returned and saw her staring, he
swiped his finger over a smear of leftover gravy and he brought it to her mouth.
“Open,” he said. She did as instructed, and he wiped the gravy inside her lip.
“You see? Tasteless. Cold. You can do better. And that kitchen needs your attention.” He caught her chin between his thumb and his forefinger and stared down into her eyes.
Marie swallowed and forced herself to smile, and Rupert’s gaze softened.
He touched her cheek gently. “We’ll speak at 2:30 p.m. Follow me out. ”
He liked her to kiss him goodbye when he slipped into his police car. He liked her to stand on the drive to wave at him as
he reversed and then drove away. Often, they would see neighbors during this little farewell routine. Mr Peterson next door,
an elderly widower with a fluffy white dog named Percy, would just happen to be checking his mail at the time and he’d stop
to tell Rupert what a lucky man he was, or to tell Marie how blessed she was to have such a good husband. Wendy Baker across
the road was often returning from the library or the park with her toddlers, and she’d look at Marie and Rupert’s beautiful
home and give a wistful sigh. Ethel Knox was sometimes in her garden and she’d give a knowing wink when she saw Rupert bend
to kiss Marie’s cheek.
None of the neighbors were on their lawns today, but Marie waved until Rupert’s car was out of sight anyway. Then she walked
inside to carefully pick up the shards of plate and salad from the floor of the dining room, and put the whole lot into the
bin. She cleaned the kitchen until every surface was sparkling and then she answered the phone on the first ring when Rupert
called at 2:30 p.m.
“Hello, love,” he greeted her. “How has your afternoon been?”
“Uneventful,” she told him. “And yours?”
When she finished the call, she went through to their bathroom. She took a scalding-hot shower as if the heat could wash away the shame and the fear and the powerlessness, but she did not let herself cry. Not for long, anyway, because Rupert didn’t like to see her eyes red or puffy.
Then she dressed as if she was starting the day again and went to prepare her dinner.
If Marie could write a letter to that feisty, fierce version of herself that she had been as a child, it would only say one
thing.
I’m sorry, little Marie. I just don’t know where I went wrong.
Rupert had the very same job as Marie’s father, and yet growing up Marie had lived in a simple home and there had only ever
been enough money for them to get by, sometimes only just. That’s exactly why, as soon as Marie and Irving were old enough
to be left with the lovely young teen who lived down the block, Marie’s mother had gone back to work, taking as many shifts
at the nursing home as she could manage. Even then there had only been one car—the same 1945 Ford her parents had owned for
more than ten years. The same car they were in together, driving home from their respective shifts, when the accident happened,
three weeks after Marie’s high school graduation, half a summer before she was due to start college.
She’d been aware of Rupert for a while by then but he was just another of her father’s subordinates—hired on the recommendation
of a chief of police at a city station. She saw him from afar at Christmas parties and on the rare occasions she called into
the station to see her dad.
After the accident, there was a revolving door of police officers checking in on her and Irving.
At the time Marie was reeling, not just from her parents’ deaths, but also from the discovery that her father—her beloved, seemingly perfect dad—had a secret gambling habit.
There was no money, two immense mortgages, and Marie had no idea how she was going to keep Irving fed and clothed and in school long enough to graduate.
Marie had always found numbers came easy to her and she had won a college scholarship, intending to major in math. But in
the fog of grief and shock, not even the math made sense. The covered plates the officers’ wives sent were useful but didn’t
really solve the main problem: even if Marie got a job, she’d never manage the mortgages on her own.
Rupert came by once with sympathy flowers and then after that, he seemed to be there every second day. He had endless time
to talk things through with Marie and so much advice. He helped her deal with the bank. Helped her talk to Irving’s school
because her brother, who had always been the brightest kid in his year, was suddenly struggling academically and getting into
all sorts of trouble in the schoolyard. Rupert even helped Marie tell the college that she wouldn’t be utilizing that scholarship
after all.
At first, Marie didn’t have a single romantic inclination towards him.
Of course he was handsome and suave and kind, but he was also fifteen years older than she was and at a whole other stage of life.
But he was suddenly there with all of the answers and gifts and flowers and then it was expensive dinners and trips to the cinema and compliments—so many compliments.
He loved her soft hair and the way she looked in that dress and how smart she was and how well she cared for Irving and wasn’t she going to make an amazing mother one day?
He loved her curves and her sense of style and how kind she was and how she knew how to talk to just about anyone.
Just when she needed a boost in confidence the most, Rupert was right there, ready to give it to her.
“You’re mine now,” he said, smiling at her softly as he took her hand in his. “I will never let you go.”
Marie took a job doing bookwork for a mechanic and Rupert insisted on loaning her the money to cover what she couldn’t manage
in the first month, and then it was two. When she asked how on earth he could afford all of this, he smiled and told her his
family had money.