Elenore would be waiting for him, and he couldn’t wait to get home.
****
Her name finally didn’t look like a scribble.
Elenore smiled as she held up the notebook Raphael had given to her. She had her name.
Elenore.
She liked it.
Now, she could also write it down and spell it as well. She knew each letter. She loved writing the e, it was so cute. She fingered the letter.
Raphael returned home just as she finished writing it again. Getting to her feet, she rushed toward him. “Look what I can do,” she said, holding the notebook up. “Don’t you think that looks good?”
“It does. You’ve been doing this all day?”
“Yes, I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all. It’s a way to fill your day.” He took the notebook from her. His nose twitched. “What’s in the oven?”
“I made you a casserole. Your favorite, the one you always have when you’re at your dad’s.” She tried not to think about every single Giavanni.
There were nights she still lay awake, expecting a guard to come and get her. Those days were always the worst. Giavanni would always find a way of letting her know her services were required.
With him now holding the book, she felt this overwhelming need to hug him, but she didn’t. She took a step back to go and check the casserole. The biscuits she’d placed on top were a nice golden brown. The mushroom casserole looked nice and creamy.
Once she’d taken it out of the oven, she put it on a board to stop the heat from transferring through the surface. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving. It has been a long night.” He groaned. “Don’t forget to serve yourself.”
He kept odd hours. She always waited to eat food with him. She loved the days when he was home to cook. Not because she didn’t like to cook, but she enjoyed watching him in the kitchen.
Raphael was already seated at the head of the table. She put a plate in front of him, complete with a knife and fork, joining him.
“How’s your arm and leg?”
“They’re good. I’m able to move more freely. I think that’s a good thing, right?”
“It sounds like it.”
She chuckled. “I hope you enjoy.” Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he took the first mouthful of food, waiting in anticipation for him to try it.
She’d worked hard all day. The pain in her thigh was worth it if she’d gotten the measurements right. She’d only seen the cook back at her old prison make this dish.
She waited.
He closed his eyes and groaned. “Oh, man, this is so good.” This time he took a bigger bite.
“You like it?”
“Like it? I fucking love it.” He groaned again. “So good.” He asked for seconds and she rushed back to the kitchen to fill his plate. At least she’d done something right. Feeding him was a lot of fun.
He finished off a second helping as she did her first plate. She was full and didn’t need any more. She went to pick up his plate with the intention of cleaning them but he stopped her, putting a hand to her wrist. “You don’t need to do that.”
“You’ve been out all day, working hard.”
“I don’t work too hard. Don’t worry about it.”
She looked at the dirty plates, nibbled on her lip, and sat down. It was unusual for her to leave work unattended. “I can do the dishes.”
“You’re not a slave anymore, Elenore. Don’t act like one.”
“I’m not. I like taking care of you.”
His gaze returned to hers.
“If you’d let me. You’re doing so much for me. Why can’t I do a little bit for you? Is it so wrong?”
“You’re used to washing dishes, doing as you’re told. Is there anything you’d like to do? Anything you’ve never been able to do?” he asked.
“Lots of stuff.”
“Tell me.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I’m curious.”
She smiled. “Er, I … I’d like to go to a park. You know, maybe go on the swings. I saw them on television today. I was watching a couple of kids’ programs. It looks like fun. Kids go to parks all the time.”
“I like that,” he said. “A park. It’s simple.”
“It’s stupid.”
“No, not for anyone who has your history. I bet you never even knew what it was like to play.”
“I don’t. He said playtime was for important people. Not people like me.”
“My father is an asshole. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. What else would you like to do?”
She touched her lips. “Be kissed.”
Raphael sat up. “Kissed? Is this another thing you saw?”
She nodded. “It’s silly as well. I watched this movie and this man fell in love with this girl, and he kissed her at the end. It looked really sweet. She looked so happy. I’ve never had a kiss.”
Raphael kept on staring at her. “Fuck it. Come with me,” he said. He stood up, holding out his hand.