CHAPTER 10

             Angry as she had never been before, Isabelle abruptly pulled away from him. He let her go without saying another word. She wanted to tell him a lot more, but Marie's voice stopped her. She didn't want to be seen by her in that state, so Isabelle tried to calm down.

"Oh, my dear, you are here... Come on, your father just arrived... Ah, but I see you've already met Shawn, my nephew." Marie walked up to him and let him give her a hug. "How about you have dinner with us this evening?" she asked, adjusting his hair.

"Aunt Marie, first I need to take a shower and I'll join you as soon as possible," he replied, continuing to smile at Isabelle.

“Very well! Hurry up, please!”

              Marie took Isabelle's hand and practically dragged her towards the living room. While walking behind Marie, Isabelle turned and looked at Shawn again. There it was, the same smug smile on his lips, a smile that she wanted so badly to wipe off his lips. Maybe he had won this round, but the next one would be hers.

         When she entered the living room, her father was already there, in the middle of a very heated conversation with Christopher and Billy. Hearing his daughter enter the room, he turned and stared at her with a severe look in his eyes.

"Where were you, missy?" he asked angrily. “Is this the way to behave in Marie and Christopher's house? Going around and snooping?”

“I apologize for being late, but I’ve just finished putting the girls to bed,” she answered almost whispering the words avoiding looking at him because she didn’t want to make him angrier.

            Isabelle used a very calm and polite tone to give her father an explanation, but Andrew was already starting to get agitated. Looking down and trembling slightly, she waited for Marie to invite everyone to sit down at the dinner table.

“Be very careful how you behave. This isn’t your house,” he said in a tone that made her tremble even more.

"Yes, father," she replied without looking up to him.

            Marie decided to break the awkward silence that was taking over the room and invited everyone to join her at the table. Isabelle found herself near Billy and Christopher, but Andrew was right in front of her. She looked up just to find that everyone was quite elegant. She was the only one poorly dressed. Feeling too embarrassed, she closed her eyes for a moment. She opened them when she heard a voice she knew and hated a lot, greeting everyone. Things were going from bad to worse. Isabelle felt his eyes on her, but she avoided looking in Shawn’s direction.

"Shawn, son, how nice to have you at the table with us tonight!" Christopher exclaimed extremely pleased.

"Brother, we need to talk later," Billy told him.

           The dinner went on without unpleasant moments. Andrew was chatting with Christopher about this and that. For those who didn’t know the truth, her father seemed a normal person. How much she would’ve liked to have him always like this, to talk to her father as she did before that damn night, instead of living under the same roof with a frail and broken man. Billy asked her a few things and she gave him brief, polite answers.

               Marie invited everyone to serve the cake in the living room. It was a fantastic room that allowed everyone to relax. Everyone, but Isabelle.

"Isabelle, I am very happy that my wife convinced you to come and take care of the girls. Hearing you talk to them in French... Fantastic!” Christopher said, smiling at her.

"Those were just a few words... The girls are so much better than me at this..." she answered softly, with her eyes on her plate.

“Of course, they’re much better than you. You don't know French. You barely speak English,” Andrew added without realizing that he was embarrassing not only his daughter but others as well.

"Isabelle," Billy said, "what college did you attend or are you still attending?"

“I ... I don't ... I chose not to go to college. My father needed my help at home,” she answered quickly feeling her father getting a bit furious.

            She took a deep breath to avoid crying. Her father's words had visibly bothered her, but she had to regain control of her emotions to prevent the others from realizing that what they had witnessed was something that was happening to her every day. She briefly looked at Andrew. He was rubbing his temple and Isabelle knew what that meant. ‘Oh God, I hope he won't have one of his crises right now,’ she thought.

"You are not very intelligent, so what need was there to throw the money out of the window?" Andrew added, thinking out loud.

“What else can you do, dear? What are your hobbies? Marie asked, trying not to pay attention to what Andrew had just said.

"I speak... I speak Fr..." she began, stammering a little.

“Yes, we know, you speak French. Marie asked you what else can you do? What would it take for you to answer her properly?” Andrew asked her, completely furious.

"Probably Isabelle waits for you to stop talking so she can finally start answering my aunt’s question," Shawn intervened for the first time during the evening.

              Shawn's tone was very calm and very polite, but the way he stared at him convinced Andrew to review his behavior. Isabelle looked at him without saying a word. His stepping in this conversation had been so unexpected as to leave everyone silent for a moment. Shawn got up and poured himself a glass of scotch. From the look on everybody’s faces, Andrew understood that he had crossed the line and leaned against the back of the sofa. He brought his hand back to his temple and a frown showed up on his face as if he were thinking of something to say to apologize to his daughter.

               Isabelle smiled and for a moment saw her father again, the one he was before the accident. She explained to Marie that she had learned to speak three languages, French, Spanish and Italian, she loved drawing, even though she didn't have much time to do it, she wanted to go to college and study the history of art and perfecting herself, and that she loved to sing. It was her way of escaping from reality. When she finished speaking, her eyes met Shawn's. He brought the glass to his lips and took a sip as he continued to stare at Isabelle.

"Would you be so kind and sing something for us this evening?" Marie asked.

"Of course, she will sing..." Andrew replied instead of his daughter.

            Shyness and fear were stopping her from giving an answer. She didn't want to sing in front of everyone, including his father, but she knew she had to do it. Maybe this way, her father would understand that it wasn't that insignificant girl he thought she was, that she was able to do something more than taking care of him and the house. Yes, she had to perform in front of everybody, she simply had to. The notes full of sadness and melancholy of ‘To Make You Feel My Love’ filled the room, growing like the high seas, to then retreat and simply flow and the music became the expression of her desperation, her pain, and her desire that were filling her heart and soul.