The Price of Love

The more I watched them, the more somethin’ didn’t sit right in my spirit.

I ain’t never doubted Mr. Claude loved that woman. Lord knows, anybody with eyes could see that. But there was somethin’ deeper in it. Somethin’ that felt wrong. Near desperate.

Every word out that man’s mouth seemed geared toward pleasin’ her. Every step he took was toward her. Like he couldn’t draw a full breath unless she was standin’ beside him.

My eyes followed them as they headed upstairs together.

Then all at once, a thought come into my head.

A thought I should’ve had long ago, considerin’ exactly who Liora was.

That woman done bound that man to her.

Used rootwork on him.

I kept that thought tucked away while I finished out the day’s work same as the other girls. I fed Charles, changed him, rocked him to sleep, and finally laid him down in his crib just as the sun was sinkin’ low behind the trees.

Once I knew the baby was settled, I made my way upstairs to Liora’s room.

When I stepped inside, I found her alone.

Mr. Claude, she told me, was down in his office tendin’ to paperwork.

Liora was stretched across her loveseat like a queen on her throne. She already had on her silk nightdress, and the thing left mighty little to the imagination.

The minute she saw me, she smirked.

“Come to say goodbye, sissy?” she asked. “Couldn’t wait to run on home to that damn carpenter of yours.”

I didn’t bother answerin’.

Instead, I stood there lookin’ at her.

“Mr. Claude,” I said softly. “I always believed the love he had for you was real.”

For the briefest moment, she stiffened.

Didn’t say a word.

“I still reckon some of it is his own feelings,” I continued. “But the more time I spend in this house, the more I see things. Things that ain’t natural.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“What did you do to that man?”

Slowly, a smile spread across her face.

A mean one.

Then she started clappin’.

Slow and deliberate.

“Bravo, sissy,” she said with a laugh. “You finally startin’ to wise up.”

She laughed another second before it died away.

The smile dropped clean off her face.

Then she stood and crossed the room toward me.

There was nothin’ warm in her eyes.

Not a single thing.

She stopped right in front of me.

“You tell me,”She whispered. “What you think I done?”

I met her stare.

“Did you bind him?”

For a second, neither of us spoke.

“It’s one thing to throw a love charm on somebody,” I said. “But that ain’t what this is. A love spell doesn’t make a man act like his soul belong to somebody else. It doesn’t make him this obsessed.”

The smile that curled across Liora’s face told me everything I needed to know.

“You know why his daddy hates me, don’t you?” she asked.

I stayed quiet.

“It’s ’cause I stole Claude away from that white gal he was s’posed to marry. Some Mary somethin’ or other. Daughter of one of old man Landry’s business partners.”

She laughed.

“A sweet little Southern belle. Blond curls and manners and all that foolishness. Old man Landry thought she’d make a perfect wife.”

Liora twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

“Then here I come. Curves. Charm. Pretty smile.”

Her laugh echoed through the room.

“And I snatched him right on away.”

I didn’t smile.

“Why?” I asked. “Why go that far? You don’t even love the man.”

Liora turned toward the window.

For the first time, she looked annoyed.

“I hate him because he’s weak,” she said plainly. “And because he’s a man.”

The words come out cold as ice.

“But he’s useful.”

She reached for a crystal glass sittin’ nearby and poured herself some whiskey.

“When I first got hold of him, I wanted his money. His connections. His name.”

She took a sip.

“So yes. I bound him.”

The words settled heavy in the room.

“I admit,” she continued, “I might’ve overdone it.”

I stared at her.

She said it the way somebody might talk about addin’ too much salt to supper.

No remorse

Not even a hint.

“But now?” she scoffed. “Now I got everythin’ I wanted.”

She swirled the whiskey around her glass.

“And I am tired of him.”

The bitterness in her voice surprised even me.

“I’ve tried breakin’ the tie. Went to two different rootworkers. Both of ’em failed.”

She drained her glass.

“The fool’s too hooked. The bond won’t let go.”

For the first time since I’d entered the room, Liora looked genuinely frustrated.

Not because she’d stolen a man’s free will.

Not because she’d trapped his soul.

Not because she had ruined his life.

No.

Liora was angry because her own spell had become an inconvenience to her.

I nodded slow, letting her words settle over me like swamp fog. They weren’t no confession, not really. Liora was the sort who never believed she had to answer for nothing she done. But the look on her face told me enough.