Chapter 2-2
885 Words
Dinner was an informal affair. Despite that, we were still seated at a long table, both at the heads of it, with at least five meters of table separating us.
“You can sit next to me,” I said after we’d been served our meal.
Niamh swirled her wine around in her glass. “You can sit next to me, Your Highness.”
I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or flirtatious. Knowing Niamh, it was probably both. I picked up my plate, my silverware, and my wineglass and went to sit next to her. She raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, I’m capable of picking up my own plate,” I said.
“You’ll only blow my mind if you tell me you know how to wash dishes.”
I leaned forward. “I can even turn on the dishwasher.”
Niamh fanned herself. “Good sir, I am all aflutter.”
I chuckled. I sipped my wine, enjoying the warmth in my belly and the warmth in my wife’s eyes. I was tempted to kiss her or at least touch her hand. But she was a skittish creature, like an animal that was still afraid of human touch. Or, at least, my touch.
“What other peasant activities do you do?” She bit into a flaky croissant. “Can you do laundry?”
I grimaced. “I’ve never had to do my own laundry,” I admitted. When Niamh was about to give a scathing reply, I added, “But I do know how. I swear.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Okay, go on.”
“I know how to cook eggs. I can make coffee.” I didn’t add that I had no idea how to make a good cup of coffee. “I’ve even used a vacuum once.”
Niamh’s lips twitched. “Wow, used a vacuum once. You sound just like every guy I’ve dated. What is it with men and their aversion to vacuums?”
I swallowed a bite of my salad. “How very sexist of you.”
“Hey, I’m just saying, guys do not like to clean. Once, I was so grossed out by my boyfriend’s apartment that I legit vacuumed it myself.” She wrinkled her nose. “He was so underwhelmed that when I got home, I sent him an invoice for the work I’d done.”
I almost choked on my wine. “You didn’t.”
She just shrugged, smiling. Then she asked, “Can you drive?”
“Yes, although I do it rarely. I usually have a driver here in Salasia, and I prefer taking taxis if necessary.” I thought back. “I haven’t driven a car in…five years?”
“I love driving.” Niamh put her chin in her hand, her gaze now far away. “They’re like horses, but with engines. I always found them fascinating. When I was just ten, I made my uncle teach me how to change out a flat tire after me and my aunt were stranded for three hours with a flat in the middle of nowhere, Washington. When I got older, I started tinkering with my uncle’s car, but he finally was so annoyed with all of my messing around that he bought me a junker to play on instead.”
Her expression closed. “But I stopped after that. I haven’t worked on a car since high school.”
“Why not? If you enjoyed it so much?”
She looked uncomfortable. “I started taking automotive classes at the local career center. You could take them for high school credit. But I was always the only girl, and the boys…” She scowled. “They were assholes. They’d say gross s**t to me. When I did better than them, they’d f**k around with my tools, even breaking some. They’d sabotage a car I was working on, making it so I’d spend hours upon hours just to undo their damage.”
White hot rage made my fists clench. “Did you tell anyone? They should’ve been disciplined.”
“Oh, I agree. And I did tell: my teacher, who said it was just boys having fun. I went to the principal of the career center, and although she agreed it was wrong, without proof of who had exactly done it, she couldn’t help me. It was bullshit. So one day I was so fed up that I just quit. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Silence fell. I wished I could find those boys and deck them. Or at the very least deck their parents. The thought of young Niamh, who loved this hobby, giving it up because she’d been harassed? It was difficult to fathom, mostly because Niamh was so stubborn and strong.
“Do you regret quitting?” I asked finally.
She sighed. “Sometimes. But I was only seventeen. It got to the point that going to that class was so stressful that I couldn’t sleep. My aunt and uncle did everything they could with contacting the school. A few boys did get detention, but it only made things worse. I felt like I didn’t have a choice but to give in.”
I took her hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry. I hate that you had to give up something you enjoyed.”
“So do I. I’ve thought about starting up again, but I just haven’t had time. Life, you know. Plus, college tends to take up a lot of brain space.”
When she returned my hand squeeze, my rage at these unknown teenagers faded. Instead, I felt as though I’d glimpsed a sliver of the sun in Niamh’s eyes.
I lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed the back of it. She shivered.
After that, we both concentrated on just finishing our already cold entrees.
- Writer
