A blue and white palette in ivy patterns was the main theme of the Edwardian-style boutique hotel where Renata stayed. She awoke disoriented, staring at the unfamiliar blue and white flower pattern on the square pillows she slept on; the blue and white leaf pattern on the curtains and wallpaper. As if blue and white porcelain china were transplanted onto everything.
"You are awake? "Patrick's voice jolted her, she didn't realize that her father was sitting on a sofa under the huge white window. "Good. Let's talk. " He stood up and walked out of her room; his intent was clear: he wanted Renata to follow him outside.
Patrick sat side-by-side on the sofa with Brigitte; their expressions were unreadable, but Renata sure felt the tension in the air. He told her to sit on the sofa across from them.
When she had sat down, her father said, "Care to explain why this was in your pocket?" He put the c0nd0m on the table and pushed it toward her with his index finger. Blood drained from her face, probably drained from her malfunctioning brain, or out of her head entirely.
"Were you planning to spend the night with someone?" Patrick's tone was still civil enough to her ear, but she knew that this was a calm before the storm, or before armageddon.
She was mortified, terrified, horrified, basically, any words about feelings that ended with "-fied. Those feelings ran havoc in her body that she couldn't utter any words. She knew if she didn't say anything, her father would think whatever it was in his head was true. Which wasn't at all. Her idiocy knew no bounds; how could she have forgotten to dispose of it?
Patrick couldn't hold his temper any longer, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "ANSWER ME!!! YOU PLANNED TO HAVE SЄX?? YOU ARE NOT EVEN 15!!!" Brigitte held her husband as Renata started to cry.
"DO YOU WANT TO GET PREGNANT?? OR SOME STD??"
"N-no, Dad. I am not... I didn't..." She shook her head vigorously, denying all the accusations. "I-I am not.... I-I swear, Dad, I'm not...." She stuttered.
"I SHOULD NEVER HAVE LISTENED TO YOU!! IF YOU WERE STILL IN THAT ALL-GIRLS BOARDING SCHOOL, NONE OF THIS COULD HAPPEN!!" His index finger pointed fiercely at Renata's head.
Brigitte tried to calm her husband by patting his chest gently and saying, "OK, this isn't working. Gege, let's just listen first. I'm sure our daughter has something to say. " She held her gaze in Renata's eyes. "And she won't lie to us, right?"
Renata nodded at her. Patrick still glared at her, but somehow, he had calmed down. "TALK!!"
Though her words sounded like a blubbering mess, Renata managed to convey exactly what happened. Patrick still frowned, but at least he was not breathing fire anymore.
"You can call James if you don't believe me. I had never planned to have sex with anyone; I just wanted to play, sight-seeing, having fun. I....." Renata sighed, she didn't know what else to say to convince her father.
The heavy silence shrunk Renata's body until his father started to speak again, "Fine, I'll call this James, later. Now tell me about the incident in the restaurant. "
Renata described the sequence of events, beginning with the huge man yelling at the waitress and then muttering a racist remark at her. Her father concentrated on every word that sprouted from Renata. He needed to decide soon what legal action he would take. Renata cautiously stole peeps from her parents after she finished narrating the whole event. She noticed his mood was gradually flaring as the minutes passed.
"So, you, deliberately challenged the rude guy, despite having it all recorded on your camera?" Patrick scowled at Renata, and she nodded. "Do you think that all adults are gentlemen!!?? Do you think you have nine lives?? Or do you even think, at all? He could have hurt you, worse, he could have killed you on the spot!!"
"I'm sorry, Dad. But I was so angry. I wanted to prove my point, I wanted him to....to...."
"To what?? What point are you trying to prove?"
"That he couldn't do that even though he had more money than the waitress. That I have the right to reprimand him because I have the privilege. He is beneath me. "
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Patrick looked at her incredulously before chuckling mockingly, "Aren't you a little hypocrite? You said he shouldn't degrade the waitress because he has a little more money than she does. But you are no different than that man. You acted so arrogantly to step on him just because you thought you had more money than him, hadn't you? So what if you proved your point, but at the expense of your safety?? Do you see how ridiculous this is? Your so-called privilege doesn't exist. Even if it exists, it belongs to me and your mother. You are nobody. Until you earn this whatever "privilege" you imagine by yourself, You.Are.Nobody."
This time, Brigitte couldn't stay silent. "Renata, we have never condoned any behavior like that. Your father was right. Just because we have a little money doesn't mean we can do whatever we want to do. Don't let any toxic theories ruin your mindset. We believe you are smart enough to make your own judgment and to contemplate what we have just discussed. "
Renata pondered for a while. "But he said those racist words to me. Why couldn't I say anything back to him? "
"I'm not saying you couldn't retaliate, but choose a way that won't harm you. Especially when you had him recorded. We can take legal action without risking you getting injured. Do you understand? " Patrick continued, "Where is your camera? I need to give it to Stanton soon."
------------------------
They spent the day mostly in the hotel room. Renata had trouble walking after her father lashed both of her calves with a thin rattan cane, thrice on each side. They hurt like a bitch, but she admitted she deserved it.
Renata was chastised for:
1. went on a date, she was not allowed to date until she reached 17
2. she was going with Lyle, when clearly her father told her to stay away from him
3. she ignored her father's calls earlier,
4. to put herself in unnecessary danger, she got two for this.
5. and lastly, spent nearly $450 in just a day.
The last one was well deserved; she had no cash left until the end of the month because of it.
She was napping on her stomach when she felt cold jelly on her calves. It was her father. He carefully put some ointment on the welts, it soothed the burning, somewhat. Renata crossed both her arms under her head, hugging a square pillow.
"Dad..."
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry..... I'm really sorry..... Do you hate me now?" She turned her apologetic gaze toward her father's face.
"Don't be silly; no sane parent would hate their children, even when they make mistakes. We adults also make mistakes, you know? Just bear the consequences, take responsibility, improve, and move on. Do you hate me now? "
For a flash, Renata saw a hint of insecurity in his eyes, "No..... I love you, Dad." Tears escaped from her eyes as she threw herself into her father's loving hug. "I love you to the moon and back, then back to the moon again. We can go back and forth like this forever. "
Patrick chuckled as he patted her back and caressed her hair, "Aww, love you too, Bean Bear. I want you to grow some, but not too fast, this old man's heart is not ready to let you go yet. Please don't make me discipline you; I hate it. " Renata nodded at his tear-stained shoulder. "You ready? It's time for you to return to school. "
------------------------
Patrick gave Renata one last hug before he let her enter the boarding school. He watched her run forward and turned around to wave at him. He waved her back. Soon she went into a Victorian red-brick building and couldn't be seen again. He got into the car, and Frank drove.
Patrick was back in their hotel room; they would go home later. "Are you done packing? Frank will take the luggage if you are. " He kissed Brigitte briefly as he gazed at her eyes, those innocent round eyes which never failed to make his heart flutter.
"All done, we still have some alone time, no?" Brigitte kissed him back passionately, " Should we head back tomorrow? We can check out at 10 am, anyway. " She held the troublesome "Trojan" between her teeth.
Patrick's pupils dilated, "Don't tempt me...." He sighed and took the damn "Trojan" from her lips. "Thank God it was a false alarm. Shouldn't we share the duties of disciplining our lovely little menace? How is it always me? I hate it. "
"You are very good at it, Sir. I don't have the heart to beat her. "
"Do you think I have the heart? "
"You don't have the heart, but you will do it anyway. I don't have that kind of resolution. " Brigitte's cheeky smile unarmed him. "Gege, if you don't want to stay here, should we have a little date? I heard there is this flea market around here selling antiques. " Her eyes glinted at the words "antiques".
Patrick's brows arched, "You, in a public space? Are you sure? The place could be very small, and it could be crowded too."
Brigitte nodded, though she wasn't that enthusiastic anymore. "Gerald said I'm improving.... Besides, I have you with me, what could possibly go wrong? " She grinned, trying to hide the anxiety that started to cast a shadow.
------------------------
They had arrived at the Antiques Farmington flea market. The red two-story building was an ex-factory of a grist mill that had stood on the Farmington River since the 1800s.
Although he was skeptical, Patrick wouldn't deny what his wife wanted. Perhaps this outing could be called therapy for her. "Gigi, are you sure? You don't have to go out if you don't want to. Though it's not a small space, it should be pretty crowded in there." He held her hands firmly, his gaze full of uncertainty.
"I am not sure. But I want to try, just for a minute or two. "
Patrick nodded, though he noticed a slight tremble in her voice. They both got out of the car, and with sheer determination, Brigitte braced herself.
There were so many people in the market full of vintage jewelry, glassware, porcelain, furniture, books, vintage clothes, small collectibles, art, toys, 1950s art pottery, rustic, and more. Brigitte's heart started to palpitate, but she resolved to at least stay for a few minutes. She shifted her concentration to the antiques around her; she kept walking through various booths until she found a unique brooch. The Victorian agate cameo brooch depicted a beautiful Greek girl; she thought it was perhaps the goddess Artemis.
She turned her head to ask Patrick's opinion on the brooch, but he wasn't next to her or anywhere she could see. Brigitte didn't realize when they were separated. She swallowed hard as her heart started to race. And soon she was sweating bullets. Her breath became short and choppy, dizzy and nauseated at the same time. She tried to calm herself by squatting down. She shouldn't have gone out, she knew she couldn't. What if Patrick couldn't find her in this sea of people? Would he be disappointed with her? Maybe he left her.....
As tears fell on her cheek, Brigitte's body was hauled into a powerful embrace. "It's OK, Gigi, it's OK. Don't be scared, I'm here...." He kept chanting those words to calm her down while patting her back, perhaps to calm himself too. Patrick's heart plunged into a bottomless pit when he noticed she was missing. He just turned his head for a split second and she was gone. He barged through the people around him until he found her squatting in front of a jewelry booth.
Patrick wiped away the tears from her cheek, "What are you holding?" He saw a pretty brooch in her hand; he quickly pulled out his wallet to pay the vendor owner.
"Sir, the brooch came in pairs. The one in your wife is the goddess Artemis; this one here is her lover, Orion. " The old vendor owner said to him. Patrick thought this was just his business tactic to get people to buy more, but Brigitte asked him to buy it too. Patrick paid and left with her.
Brigitte had forgotten whatever happened in the market. She was smiling at those brooches as the car drove to Philadelphia. "I'll take the Orion, and you must always have this Artemis on you." She kissed his cheek and settled into his warm arms, as Patrick kissed the top of her head.