Bound & Bound – the Curse and the Captives – - 40. Chapter 40: Denouement

Chapter 40: Denouement

MY LITTLE RUG RAT IN-LAW COUSINS, nephews and nieces are running all over the house!

I pick up a half-drunk juice box as I pass through the dining room.

For the most part, everything looks fine in here. I do a double check to make sure no little brat Romani fingers have jokingly switched place setting cards on the table. There are definitely some of Sil's relatives I would not want to spend an entire meal stuck next to.

As I avoid some little rowdy heads dodging their way around me, heading to the kitchen and the back yard like a train, I reach out to latch onto one particularly well-groomed head that I am also very fond of.

"Lupasc," I ask wryly. "How old are you, again?"

"Come on, Uncle Emeric – you know I'm seven!" His right foot slowly inches up the side of his left pant leg, while he stands like a questioning innocent under heavy adult scrutiny. In another moment, a wickedly pure smile cracks his face, and a hand goes up to his lolling head. That moussed and spiked haircut he's sported most of his young life still looks like a perfect mini version of his big brother Silviu's, but now the boy is trained to do it up himself.

"Used to be," I tell him through my own smile. "That you'd always say four-and-a-half; five-and-a-half; six-and-a-half – so what happened to the half?!"

"You're funny," he confides in me like it's a secret for just the two of us. "Besides, that stuff's for little kids…" He turns serious for a moment. "And I'm not a little kid anymore."

I chuckle silently to myself, 'These Romani "men" sure do mature quickly.'

"Okay, Lupasc." I push the refuse juice box into his sweater-clad chest. His hands come up to grip it with a question mark scrunching up his face. I tell him, "Well, since you're all grown up now, you can do me a big favour and take that into the kitchen to throw away for us adults? Okay?"

Sil's kid brother shrugs. "OK!" And he skips off like he's already forgotten the assignment.

Still chuckling, I make my way out into the front hall.

Silviu comes down the steps almost as quickly and carefree as his young relatives. His hands are at his up-turned collar and his fingers are fumbling with the sexy red tie I gave him last Christmas. Also sexy is the way his front fills out his slacks. I smile to think that he's slipped into the package-enhancing briefs I laid out for him this holiday morning.

"Honey…" he whines.

I hold out my hands for him to walk his tie into, but he does not stop, and I wind up locked in his arms.

It almost seems as if he has brought the divine smell of cooking from the kitchen along with his intoxicating body scent to envelope me at the same time.

We sway for a moment, and I say, "Let me do your tie, babe."

His hands draw forward around my waist, but do not let go. He leans his back out, but keeps his front below the beltline in contact with mine. He gives me just enough room, so I go to work adjusting and retying his neck gear.

As I try to focus on his Windsor knot, his blue peepers are searching and smiling at me. Damn, what a pleasant distraction to have… I feel even luckier than Wallis Simpson did with her prince.

"You look beautiful, my Em," he croons.

"So do you, stud. So do you," I tell him, thinking that a blush has suddenly risen on my cheeks all unbidden.

As I finish his tie and pat his chest, he comes in for a kiss.

Just as I part lips, close eyes and get ready for a moment of serenity, the doorbell rings – twice.

As if that is not enough, a flat palm begins to smack the window glass – repeatedly.

I turn around to see my mother-in-law Daj in full view of us from the front door. She shifts the weight of the big tray of tinfoil-covered food from hand to hand, as if to signal for us to hurry it up!

I open the portal, and assume the position – bent at the waist, cheeks forward – ready to receive her obligatory routine of triple kisses, but Silviu's mom simply shoulders past us, saying heatedly, "You can kiss me later, sons! I must stick the janija[1] in the oven before it cools down…"

As she heads towards the dining room, her voice trails off in a cloud of savoury smells, but still comes back strongly to her son. "Schav! Where is your father?!"

Silviu looks down at his shoes just like Lupasc had. "Um, I think he's watching TV with the guys, or maybe he's outside playing with the kids."

"All right…"

After she disappears into the kitchen, and becomes nothing to us but a phantom of barking orders to the female relatives gathered there, Sil and I have a moment to catch our collective breath and stare blankly at one another.

I suddenly realize the front door is still open and within my grasp, so I let my forehead fall until it makes contact with the wood. I mumble, "Get rid of one curse…"

Sil hugs my waist and lets his head settle on my shoulder.

I rotate within his embrace and allow his weight against me to close the door.

Showing some lower whites of his eyes, he playfully warns, "Shut it, sweetheart. We're all smiles today, remember?"

"Ummm – " I start, but get cut off.

"Em, baby. You need to take today off and relax. The next few months will be cray-cray, so think of this as the calm before the storm."

"More like the storm before the tornado." I screw on one of my patented smirks for him to enjoy.

"Oh, come on now. Our Daj is not that bad."

I let loose of the door and plant my hands behind my backside to press against the wood. Somehow I wind up pushing forward, letting my package come into contact with his sexily enhanced bulge.

I thrill to feel exactly the reaction I was hoping for. I let my bad-boy look slip into one of genuine relief. I tell him with true feeling, "Yes, you are right – as always. Happy Second Monday in October, Silviu."

He lets himself fall into me a bit more, his left hand landing on the doorframe by my ear.

"This makes our fourth one together."

I rotate my sight to glance at that hand – that big, strong hand – then use the motion as excuse to trail my sight up the length of his arm into his deep blue-eyed gaze.

He leans into my lips with his own. I part mine and whisper, "Happy Thanksgiving, husband."

"You too, baby." He kisses me with unstoppable and boundless tenderness; my heart soars just like the first time he ever laid his wonderful lips on me.

When he draws his head back a little, I hug his waist and tell him the truth, "Silviu, you are my guardian, my protector, and my man – now and for always."

I peck my Sil, chuckling, "Now, the only question remains, when will you divorce your mother?"

Silviu stands up straight; he gives my ass a sound slapping.

"Divorce my mother?!" Silviu seems amazed. "How? – She's your Daj too. And besides, you always said you wanted a mum, so now that you've got one, you can't get rid of her. That's not the way it works." His eyebrows flare at me.

"Well…" I pretend to hem and haw, picking up his strong hand to kiss. "I guess we can't do that."

My fingers play with his rings. Now he only wears two – both on the ring finger of his left hand. One is a silver band we settled on during our two-week stay in Paris after we killed the curse. It was a close match to the silver one he proposed to me with. And the other ring – a platinum wedding band with a contiguous row of central diamonds – is one I have an exact match for on my left ring finger.

"Besides," he continues with a sweet lilt, pulling his hand away from mine so his fingers can come up and brush my long hair from my forehead. "It's just as you predicted; now she has you to boss me around for her too. So what are you complaining about?"

"I guess you are right. I can't get rid of Mom, just like I can't get rid of you."

He smiles; his peepers sparkle. "Exactly."

"Silviu, do you know how hot you looked on our wedding day?"

"No, baby. All I know is how proud I was to stand there and see you come down the aisle in your black tux."

"Me..?" I chuckle softly, and wind up licking my lips. "You should have seen it from my POV – the man I love, holding my gaze up there by the priest. You in your white tuxedo and lavender boutonnière, standing tall, proud and so in love with the one your eyes beheld coming down the aisle for you – no one was ever luckier than me on their wedding day."

"You didn't mind my father walking you down the aisle? He wanted to do it, since your dad couldn’t be there."

"Mind..?" I feel tears welling from within me. "My God, Sil. To be brought into your family, just like that, and with so much love – "

He gently cuts me off, I suppose he sees how upset I'm making myself. "They do love you, Emeric. And did so instantly, just like me."

"Silviu…" I try to be composed. "You gotta stop it, now. Do you really wanna make your conceited, self-absorbed, poor little rich kid husband break down on Turkey Day? Break down, when the house is full of your family?"

His eyes dim a brief moment – it's as if the mere idea of me crying about something, anything, would be too much for his large heart to bear. Then that cloud parts and a wicked notion glistens there as fresh as an April sky. He raises up my left hand and kisses my wedding band. "Think of it this way, if Daj and my brothers even think that I made you cry, they'll gang up on me and make me apologize. And…" his eyebrows flare rakishly, and he winks "…you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

My only reply is to turn my head and rest my right cheek on his chest. Yes, no man is luckier than I.

Pa-thump; Pa-thump; Pa-thump.

His lips come down to kiss my forehead.

"I'm glad you did not give up on me, Silviu Vasile."

"Ditto, Emeric Corvin." Silviu's firm grip slips down my lower back and settles on my butt. He squeezes the pair of ass cheeks he finds there, hard, and spreads them apart a little.

This motion raises a sensation that shoots right up my spine, where it is met on my lips by Silviu's insistent kissing.

I look Sil straight in the azure depths of his soul.

Sometimes I feel like I'm almost gone, but not today, not anymore.

Slowly, as our mouths gently part and re-enclose each other's with bottomless connection, the heavenly wreath of my husband's scent drives all the other aromas of this blessed day to the background. Sil's touch, Sil's flavour, and Sil's love overwhelms me in a genuine and everlasting sense of what it means to be truly thankful.

˚˚˚˚˚

Dinner is over.

The television is on, and I sit on the sofa with Silviu. Many of his adult brothers, and our brothers-in-law, sit next to us with languid tryptophan-induced stillness. Sil's dad – his Dat – sits in one of the lounge chairs almost at a 60-degree angle. He is napping with his trousers undone at the top. He has one warm hand inserted down to the thumb in a position above his right thigh. I glance at Sil, and he smiles too seeing his 'old man' so content in our home.

All of the women are sorting out the dining room for me, doing dishes, and packing up a myriad of take-out containers for everyone in the kitchen. The whole house is abuzz as they chat and exchange happy news and speculative gossip. I should say, all the women except Daj, who is seated in the other armchair across from Dat, and she is earnestly watching the TV for something to come on.

The kids are here and there, exploring, playing outside, helping out or not helping out, as they see fit.

Silviu leans over to say a private word in my ear; his hand tactfully gestures to his father. "How do you like that?"

"I like it just fine. Know why?"

He shakes his head like he knows exactly what I'm about to lay on him.

"Because," I confirm. "At least I get to see what you're going to be doing on Thanksgiving Day in a few decades' time."

"Yes, baby." He kisses my neck; it is a brief, but somewhat loud smack. "That will be me when the house is overrun with our grandkids."

I put my hand on his cheek and kiss him; just for that, I have to.

Corina comes in, and I intrinsically give my sister-in-law a warm smile. She is so pretty, and so kind as well; she has done so much for us. She was good to her word, and we have used that turkey baster twice already to plant my 'donation' in her. Now she returns to the room with Silviu and my children in tow.

Within the crook of her raised left arm is a drowsy eighteen-month-old little girl. The small one is wearing a frilly black party dress with lots of white petticoats and a pair of ecru-coloured tights. She sucks her thumb and leans her ear on Corina's heart, while her dark flowing hair is held back on the left side by a single butterfly hairclip. She's so like Silviu, as he and Corina come from the same stock: intelligent, willing to be open and learn, and kind with her blue eyes always looking to gauge how the people around her are feeling. I suppose she has 'the gift' without any doubt.

Attached to Corina's lowered right hand is a three-year-old boy in black trousers, white dress shirt and a pink plaid bow tie. His dark blonde hair is done in a little Elvis flop-top. I guess he looks like me, and his big brown eyes are always raised in thoughts of mischievous adventure.

Now they are both tired from the big meal and the running around like crazy people with their cousins and young Lupasc.

As they approach the couch, the boy lets loose of Corina's hand, and runs to plop full into my lap.

He settles back with a hand going to his mouth, and the side of his head resting on my chest.

"Mason?" I ask. "Did you thank Auntie Corina for looking after you?"

His little head rotates slightly against my sternum. "Thank you, Auntie Corina."

"You are welcome," Sil's sister says, as she transfers the reaching baby girl into my husband's arms. "There you go, Madison. Safe with Daddy."

Silviu takes Madison and arranges her legs so she sits comfortably astride his upper thigh. He smiles at Corina, and the back of our daughter's head rests against his chest. He strokes her head with long and loving fingers and takes his sister's hand for a moment. With a poignancy of emotion that maybe only his sister, Sil and I can understand, he tells her plainly, "Thank you, Corina."

She smiles through a threatening tear and strokes his cheek.

"Shush!" Daj suddenly exclaims. "It's starting. Corina, go get the others!"

"Hey, everybody!" Corina shouts and does a quickstep circuit through the first floor of the house.

"It's starting; it's starting; it's starting!" she keeps repeating into every nook and cranny.

The guys around us in the living room rouse, and Dat extracts his hand, straightens up – and buttons up.

Sil reaches for the remote control, and extends a protective hand around Madison's waist before he leans forward.

The family quickly infills the empty seats and crowds around to stand behind sofas and chairs.

Soon the volume is blaring, and an entertainment reporter is sitting with a screen over her shoulder.

Daj hushes the excited clamour of our little crowd, and Silviu rewinds the digital recorder. The screen becomes a backwards blur until he finds the beginning of the segment.

He stops.

The announcer says, "In entertainment news, word was released today of a big-budget production of the international best-seller, Bound & Bound – the Curse and the Captives – …"

The monitor over her shoulder flashes a series of stock images: the first is a rolling shot of Toronto's Necropolis Cemetery gate from a moving car.

"…has been lauded as a Gothic tale for the modern age, a novel that has already sold over 120 million copies world wide, and for which anticipation for a film adaptation has been mounting..."

The shot morphs to show a large raven sitting on a roof pinnacle.

"…the movie will star Justin Bieber as the young Canadian with a family curse, and Channing Tatum as his Gypsy – "

Silviu shouts at the screen: "Romani!"

"…protector and love-interest..."

The tower at Sighisoara transitions into the rook at Targoviste.

"…Jenna Jameson is to star as Lady Gretza, while rumours swirl that Chris Hemsworth and Orlando Bloom are the front-runners trying to secure the much sought-after roles of the Turkish slaves..."

Shots of Castle Corvin roll: the well-towered and turreted exterior, the chapel interior with Lord Laszlo's tomb, and the courtyard with a lingering close-up of the wellhead.

"…as for the villain, Razvan slash Ronald Ionescu, the part is almost surely going to another Canadian, Jim Carrey.

"The book's author, Emeric Corvin-Vasile, has written the screenplay and will also direct, so we know the film will be as exciting to watch as the book is to read…"

The final graphic image that flickers on the screen is an aerial shot over the circle clearing within Hoia-Baciu forest.

"…filming is scheduled to start next week, and the movie is expected to be in theatres by next Thanksgiving."

The reporter moves on to the next item of interest, and Sil presses the TV's mute button.

I look around and all eyes are not on us; they are on my father-in-law. That man rises to his feet, comes over to me, pats his grandson on the head and kisses my cheek.

When he stands upright again, he says in a way that barely chokes back his emotions, "Emeric, I'm so proud of you, son."

As a round of Romani hoots, hollers, and applause circles the room in raucous approval, Silviu leans over and I kiss him.

I kiss my man with all the appreciation and love of the entire world. The ultimate adventure will be building a long life with him and our family; I could only ever feel at home here, in Sil's arms, and we will be home wherever in the world we wind up.

~