Chapter 607: Patty LVI--Diversions

Chapter 607: Patty LVI—Diversions

 

 

 

            The last thing he needed was Aebischer getting clingy at home of all places. He’d thought David would have understood their situation to apply to the road only. Of course, the young always get greedy, evidently this applied here. It wouldn’t be too difficult to just turn him down and move on with life, except that, it always did make Patrick’s mouth water to hear the little slut’s voice.

            Now, don’t get greedy, Patrick!

            He couldn’t concentrate completely on the conversation, however, because Michele entered the room. She’d been out for most of the morning, and when she sat down, she looked directly at him, watching him with the sort of expectant eyes a Siamese cat would give. Patrick raised his eyebrows, she raised hers as well. “Who is it?” She mouthed out.

            Patrick wrinkled his nose. He ended the conversation and hung up.

            “Call back in an hour?” Michele said in a soft voice. “A liaison?”

            “I don’t have time for extra-curricular activity, here,” Patrick replied.

            “Well you needn’t be snappish!”

            “I’m not being snappish!”

            Michele intertwined her slim, soft fingers on her lap, her wedding ring catching the light and glinting. “Who were you speaking with then?” There was nothing particularly needling in her tone, and her voice fell softly, as if speaking with the children. If anything she was curious, at the least, she was filling in a silence.

            “All of my business is not yours.” Patrick did not know why he felt so protective of himself, and irritated as well.

            “Is it Katrina?”

            “Why would it be her?”

            “I don’t know!” Michele exclaimed, but her temper was not lost. She shrugged. “After the busy weekend, I would expect a massage would be the best thing for you. Is that wrong?”

            Patrick sniffed. “That would have been a better lie.”

            A line creased the space in-between her eyebrows. “If you’re sleeping with her, you do not need to lie. I wouldn’t mind, Patrick.”

            Patrick’s stomach jumped.

            “It would be awkward, I admit,” Michele continued, “Considering our past with her, albeit a brief one…”

            “I am not sleeping with her.”

            Michele nodded. Her face remained blank, however.

            “I have limits, Michele.”

            “Of course you do.” Again, she did not sound confrontational, merely subdued. She relaxed into her seat, sinking down and resting her palms upon her flat belly. She sighed. “Oh, those children, out of everything, they will be the end of us.”

            “I thought we set limits, early on,” Patrick said, glad to be on a different subject, but now nagged by this pressing new one. “Have we ever been too indulgent, Michele?” He stood up, his hands on his hips. “Eh? We’ve never spoiled them. They do chores, they study for school, they are punished for wrong-doing. Why must they run around like savages, the way they do.”

            Michele’s eyes were half closed, in a warm, contented sort of way. “They are your children, Patrick, all three of them. I never ran around like a monkey, and neither did my sister as children. Neither did your siblings, I gather. I assume you’ve been visited by the ghost of yourself three-fold, you evil little boy.”

            Patrick smiled briefly, and he looked to the wall, “Frederick is different than the other two. He acts against his nature to appease Jonathan and Jana, but he wouldn’t if he had the choice. His imagination does not fly as intensely as theirs.”

            “Which is why he should know better,” Michele replied.

            “We’ve been too hard on him,” Patrick threw out his hands, “The Quebec Tournament is…”

            “And how long do you think he will be stubborn about it?” Michele sat up, the corners of her mouth twitched, stretched out. “Frederick will want to participate, just as you and Jonathan have, we just need to give him a couple of days.”

            “And if he doesn’t?”

            “Do not make me the villain in this, Patrick!” Michele exclaimed. Now, her passion seemed sparked, her cheeks blushed, but not invitingly. “You know, as well as I, that we need to put a stop to these games before someone gets into serious trouble. For God’s sake, I know Frederick could be the key to get through to the other two. We agreed upon this!”

            Patrick tightened.

            “Patrick!”

            “I know!”

            “You’re still looking at me as if I am punishing you as well.”

            Patrick didn’t answer. He stopped looking at her. Really, he understood the punishment, and the idea for it, had been his, in passing suggestion. A mother of course, would latch upon it as a viable solution. “Come here.”

            Wordlessly, she stood up and she walked across the room, when she came close enough to touch he took her cool hand and he squeezed it. Flowers and spice wafted off her wrist as he brought it to his lips and he kissed it. “I’m sorry. I know. Frederick will come around; it will benefit all three of the children.”

            She touched his cheek briefly, and whispered. “Thank you.”

            Patrick let go of her wrist, “Maybe, we could ask Cecile to have a talk with Frederick. The children seem to listen to her quite well. She really does have a touch with children I haven’t seen with other women. Having her over on the weekends seems to have benefited more than we…”

            Michele stepped back, quickly, like a startled animal. In that moment, Patrick realized what he’d done wrong. What could he tell her? If he apologized, he’d only force her to see her own insecurity as well. “Sometimes, children prefer to respond to those other than their parents, even if those others deliver the same message.”

            The tip of her dainty nose twitched, “Well it doesn’t seem as if she’ll be delivering that message anytime soon.”

            “What do you mean?”

            Michele was half-turned to him, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. The angle displayed her scrawny throat, that delicious, breakable neck to perfection. “I was out with Debbie this morning.”

            Patrick took a step towards her, she flinched, not in fear, but in a general display of not wanting to be touched. He stopped. “What?”

            “I told you that you’ve been taking far too long with Cecile.”  Now she turned to him, and her eyes glistened with empathy, her lips perfectly turned to a despairing pout. Of course, this meant she was full of shit. “Why don’t you just move in for the kill?”

            Patrick frowned. “What happened?”

            “Even Debbie is distraught.” She grimaced, almost sheepishly.

            “Debbie? What would she know?”

            Michele blinked, held out her hands briefly before letting them fall to her side. “Debbie said that Cecile is not well. She thinks its ‘burn-out’, or something. So, as we know, she gave Cecile the All Star break off, hoping that it would refresh her.”

            Patrick squinted. “But?”

            “But…Cecile not only became refreshed, she became independent.”

            He mouthed out the word, “what”, but did not say anything further. Fluttering panic tugged in his chest, but he refused to give in to it. Blood did rush to his cheeks and his neck, he couldn’t avoid that reaction.

            Oh, Michele looked so sympathetic here, and she spoke so softly, and slowly, velvet and sweet in a way most men could not resist. “It seems Cecile has moved out of the Sakic house. She did it while they were gone just in case Debbie would try to stop her. She hasn’t quit them, yet, but she does want her evenings to herself, and her weekends. She would like some privacy for contemplation and rest. Poor girl, she must have been so exhausted, running after children and dodging your relentless…”

            “Has she moved in with Dan?”

            Michele lifted one eyebrow slightly. “No, she didn’t even tell Dan about it, so Debbie said.”

            “Where has she moved then?”

            “Here’s the kick,” Michele sighed. “I asked Debbie, and apparently, Cecile chose to keep her new residence a secret. I have no idea.”

            Cut through now, not disappointed, but angry, Patrick leaned forward. “I wonder whose brilliant idea that was.” This woman would do anything to win, especially if it were against me.

            “I had nothing to do with it!” Michele exclaimed. “Here you go, making me a villain again! I’m merely trying to pass along some useful information before you found out yourself and felt embarrassed!”

            “Well it is suspicious,” Patrick replied calmly, not giving her the slightest reason to gloat. “That’s all.”

            “It is,” Michele agreed. “It seems uncharacteristic for Cecile to suddenly run out like that. Someone must have given her a push, a little nudge, yes?”

            “I wonder who,” Patrick murmured, and he looked at the carpet as he scratched his chin. “I can’t think of who would have encouraged her to do this.”

            “It doesn’t matter anyhow,” Michele replied breezily, “It seems I’ve won!”

            Startled, Patrick laughed. “No, you haven’t.”

            “I think I have,” Michele smiled, “Obviously, the girl has run away.”

            “Not completely,” Patrick sniffed.

            “Not completely!” Michele repeated, rolling her eyes, laughing affectionately. “I expect she’ll marry Danny soon. Doesn’t it stand to reason? You’re admirable, but short reaching efforts have only succeeded in antagonizing the girl faster into her fiancé’s arms! Now if Danny isn’t a complete buffoon about this, it seems she there for him in a silver cup.”

            “You…haven’t…won.” With each word he took a step towards her, looming, glaring, and satisfied when she took a tentative step backwards.

            She smiled, shyly now, looked down, “That was David on the phone, yes?”

            “Yes.” Why should he hide anything from her now? Let her see how open he was!

            “Invite him over, let me watch. Isn’t that my prize? I want to see you entwined with another…”

            “YOU HAVEN’T WON!”

            Michele wrinkled her nose. “I should have given you a deadline.”

            Patrick scowled. “And I should have given you a real challenge.”

            Before Michele could say anything further, he left the room, grabbed his coat and blew out of the house. He picked up his phone, and dialed. “David.”

            “Yes?” And what’s worse, he heard a smug sort of triumph in the boy’s voice. He’d love to destroy that right now.

            “I’ll see you soon.”