in the door, dressed in a long silk robe.
“I heard voices and came to investigate,” Martine announced. “Lissianna was showing the girls her birthday gift. He’s rather young isn’t he, Marguerite?”
“Aren’t they all?” Marguerite said almost wearily. “But apparently, he’s one of the best in his field.”
“Hmmph.” Martine turned back to the door, apparently losing interest in Greg. “Back to bed, girls. It’s well past dawn. You should all be sleeping.”
There were mutters and grumbles, but the girls all followed Martine and Marguerite out of the room.
The door closed with a soft click, but Greg could hear the murmur of female voices moving away down the hallas the older women lectured the younger ones. It wasn’t until a rustle of cloth drew his gaze to the side that Greg realized with a start that not everyone had left. Spider-Man still stood at his bedside, and the man was eyeing him with a determined expression.
Chapter 5
“I know you’re probably mad as hell about being here, but this isn’t Lissianna’s fault and she really needs your help.”
Greg let his breath out on a slow exhalation. He’d been holding it for several minutes as he waited for the man to speak, but this wasn’t what he’d expected. He didn’t have any clear idea of what he had expected, but this simply wasn’t it.
The man Lissianna had called Thomas looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties, a little younger than Greg himself. He was also as handsome as everyone else in this madhouse, with dark hair and the same piercing silver-blue eyes as Lissianna and her mother, but while Greg had seen the man twice and Thomas had been smiling good-naturedly both times, he suspected Thomas wasn’t the sort to resort to appeals too often. Yet, he now appeared to be making one on Lissianna’s behalf.
Greg watched the younger man pace to the foot of the bed, then back to his side. “Look, Lissianna…” He hesitated then said, “We’re pretty close. My mom died shortly after I was born and—unfortunately—my daddidn’t have a clue what to do with me, so Aunt Marguerite took me in. She did the same for my sister Jeanne Louise.”
“You and your sister were raised with Lissianna?”
“We played together, took school together…we’re…close,” he finished helplessly.
“Like siblings,” Greg said, with understanding.
“Yes, exactly.” Thomas smiled. “Lissianna’s like a sister to me, and Aunt Marguerite is like a mother.”
“Okay.” Greg nodded that he got that.
“So, I do understand why Aunt Marguerite brought you here. I know she’s been terribly worried about Lissianna. Her phobia…” He shook his head unhappily. “It’s bad. It would be like you fainting at the sight of food and unable to eat. It affects her whole life and has for ages.”
Thomas frowned and paced to the foot of the bed and back again before saying, “It wasn’t so bad when Jean Claude was alive. Lissianna would let Aunt Marguerite put her on intravenous then, but—”
“Who’s Jean Claude?” Greg interrupted.
“Aunt Marguerite’s husband, Lissianna’s father.”
“Why is he Jean Claude to you rather than ‘uncle’ while Marguerite merits the title aunt?” Greg asked curiously.
Thomas’s lips thinned. “Because he wasn’t much of an uncle. He wasn’t much of a husband or father either. He was controlling and really old-fashioned, and I’m talking seriously old-fashioned here. He was also mean as a rattlesnake and made Aunt Marguerite and Lissi miserable when he was around.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?” Thomas asked with confusion.
“Well, you said you were raised by your aunt alongside Lissianna; I presume you had to deal with your uncle, too. Didn’t he make you miserable as well?”
“Oh.” Thomas waved that away as unimportant. “He wasn’t so bad with me. Besides, I didn’t have to put up with him for long. I moved out at nineteen.”
“Lissianna could
“I heard voices and came to investigate,” Martine announced. “Lissianna was showing the girls her birthday gift. He’s rather young isn’t he, Marguerite?”
“Aren’t they all?” Marguerite said almost wearily. “But apparently, he’s one of the best in his field.”
“Hmmph.” Martine turned back to the door, apparently losing interest in Greg. “Back to bed, girls. It’s well past dawn. You should all be sleeping.”
There were mutters and grumbles, but the girls all followed Martine and Marguerite out of the room.
The door closed with a soft click, but Greg could hear the murmur of female voices moving away down the hallas the older women lectured the younger ones. It wasn’t until a rustle of cloth drew his gaze to the side that Greg realized with a start that not everyone had left. Spider-Man still stood at his bedside, and the man was eyeing him with a determined expression.
Chapter 5
“I know you’re probably mad as hell about being here, but this isn’t Lissianna’s fault and she really needs your help.”
Greg let his breath out on a slow exhalation. He’d been holding it for several minutes as he waited for the man to speak, but this wasn’t what he’d expected. He didn’t have any clear idea of what he had expected, but this simply wasn’t it.
The man Lissianna had called Thomas looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties, a little younger than Greg himself. He was also as handsome as everyone else in this madhouse, with dark hair and the same piercing silver-blue eyes as Lissianna and her mother, but while Greg had seen the man twice and Thomas had been smiling good-naturedly both times, he suspected Thomas wasn’t the sort to resort to appeals too often. Yet, he now appeared to be making one on Lissianna’s behalf.
Greg watched the younger man pace to the foot of the bed, then back to his side. “Look, Lissianna…” He hesitated then said, “We’re pretty close. My mom died shortly after I was born and—unfortunately—my daddidn’t have a clue what to do with me, so Aunt Marguerite took me in. She did the same for my sister Jeanne Louise.”
“You and your sister were raised with Lissianna?”
“We played together, took school together…we’re…close,” he finished helplessly.
“Like siblings,” Greg said, with understanding.
“Yes, exactly.” Thomas smiled. “Lissianna’s like a sister to me, and Aunt Marguerite is like a mother.”
“Okay.” Greg nodded that he got that.
“So, I do understand why Aunt Marguerite brought you here. I know she’s been terribly worried about Lissianna. Her phobia…” He shook his head unhappily. “It’s bad. It would be like you fainting at the sight of food and unable to eat. It affects her whole life and has for ages.”
Thomas frowned and paced to the foot of the bed and back again before saying, “It wasn’t so bad when Jean Claude was alive. Lissianna would let Aunt Marguerite put her on intravenous then, but—”
“Who’s Jean Claude?” Greg interrupted.
“Aunt Marguerite’s husband, Lissianna’s father.”
“Why is he Jean Claude to you rather than ‘uncle’ while Marguerite merits the title aunt?” Greg asked curiously.
Thomas’s lips thinned. “Because he wasn’t much of an uncle. He wasn’t much of a husband or father either. He was controlling and really old-fashioned, and I’m talking seriously old-fashioned here. He was also mean as a rattlesnake and made Aunt Marguerite and Lissi miserable when he was around.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?” Thomas asked with confusion.
“Well, you said you were raised by your aunt alongside Lissianna; I presume you had to deal with your uncle, too. Didn’t he make you miserable as well?”
“Oh.” Thomas waved that away as unimportant. “He wasn’t so bad with me. Besides, I didn’t have to put up with him for long. I moved out at nineteen.”
“Lissianna could
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