The Chef
Copyright© 2025 by R. E. Bounds
Chapter 25: Physically Bound As Well
The rest of the week was quiet, except for Wednesday when I heard from Lisa. I had sent her the report I had been working on, feeling compelled to do so even though I technically didn’t have to. I had resigned the previous week as agreed, and the report was passed along to another analyst. Still, I knew the analyst and was aware he’d struggle with the workload, so I completed it anyway.
She thanked me, but she had really called to let me know that HR had processed my exit that day. I had received an email from them just a few minutes before she called, so I was already aware. We agreed to stay in touch, but I knew the days of our weekly conversations had come to an end.
I told Becca and Sophie at dinner that night. It was bittersweet, but I knew it was for the best. Meanwhile, the girls had their own news. They had met with Jack, who had been notified about the FBI showing up at the museum and wanted to understand what had happened. Becca explained the situation, and he was happy to hear that her circumstances had finally been resolved and she no longer had to wear the restraints.
However, as Sophie had predicted, Becca had become something of a novelty at the museum. While her work was gaining recognition, she was increasingly known for the fact that she was in restraints all the time.
Jack acknowledged her talent but pointed out that she had become like many other artists with a quirky trait that made them memorable, even though her work could stand on its own.
“He really said that?” I asked, incredulous. “He actually called you the museum’s Yayoi Kusama and Salvador Dalí?”
“Yeah,” Becca said, “he was actually referring to the two of us.”
She pointed at Sophie.
“So, which one of you will be wearing polka dot dresses to work from now on?” I asked.
The girls chuckled.
“Neither of us,” Sophie replied. “Or handlebar mustaches,” she added with a grin.
I laughed, imagining the picture in my mind. Sighing, I then said, “So ... was that his way of saying he’d like you to continue wearing the jewelry when you’re at the museum?”
Sophie nodded.
“Yeah,” she said.
“And what did you agree upon?” I asked. “I mean, you don’t have to wear them anymore—not like before.”
“Becca seized the opportunity to revisit our arrangement with Jack,” Sophie explained. “She reminded him of their agreement from the holiday party and mentioned that it might be a good time to reassess things. And I told him we were pregnant, so changes would have to happen anyway.”
Continuing, Becca said, “So, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Sophie and I are working from home. We’ll be at the museum on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
I smiled and asked, “You said ‘we’ were pregnant and not Becca?”
“Um—maybe?” Sophie replied, smiling.
“Okay,” I said, nodding with a smirk on my face. “And what about the jewelry?”
Looking at Becca and smiling, Sophie responded, “Becca will be in the transport jewelry on Tuesdays, and I’ll be wearing it on Thursdays.”
“Really?” I said, surprised. “You agreed to this?”
I glanced at Sophie.
“Jack asked for it,” Becca replied. “He really did. He stumbled over his words a bit, but when we explained what had happened with the FBI on Monday and mentioned that we might still wear them at the museum, especially at exhibitions—and that Sophie might too—Jack’s gears started turning.”
Continuing, she said, “He even pointed out that at the last exhibition, there were a lot of women in restraints ... You’d said the same thing—that you saw his wife in the cuffs and the lockbox.”
I nodded.
“Really?” Sophie asked. “Julie?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Her hands were cuffed high and tight to her waist—she had leg cuffs too.”
“Okay,” Sophie said with a shrug.
“And he also mentioned,” Becca added, nodding toward Sophie, “that there was a lot of buzz around Sophie. So, he thought having both of us in the jewelry would be a great idea—especially since we’re always together anyway.”
“And you’re okay with this?” I asked Sophie again.
“Yeah,” she replied. “Really, Ben, it’s fine. Becca won’t be able to be in the waist chain for much longer. Even the belt will be an issue. At most, it’ll just be bracelets in front. So, I’m perfectly happy wearing the full transport jewelry—both Tuesdays and Thursdays when Becca can’t wear them anymore.”
She then added, “Plus, Becca was right; the five-inch stilettos feel natural to me. I still notice them, but I can walk just fine in them. I realized that on Monday, when I was giving the tour in my ‘So Kate’ heels. I felt perfectly fine.”
She continued, “And the four-inch ones from my aunt are no issue at all. So, I’ll be okay in the jewelry while at the museum.”
It struck me that Sophie had become so accustomed to wearing heels that flats didn’t even cross her mind. Like Becca, she only considered four- and five-inch stilettos for everyday wear. The six-inch Dominatrix heels were reserved for special occasions, like exhibition openings, but eventually, Sophie started wearing them on our dates, too.
The following day, the girls got ready for work, and Becca put Sophie in the full transport restraints but with standard-length leg cuffs. With Sophie in four-inch stilettos.
I also drove them since I didn’t have to be at work anymore, and Becca hadn’t driven in ages. It seemed best for me to take the wheel, plus I wanted to.
When we arrived, I helped Sophie out of the car, and Becca walked her into the museum. This became our Tuesday and Thursday routine—at least until Becca felt comfortable driving again. But that didn’t happen until after the baby came.
And once Becca became bedridden due to her pregnancy and the swelling she was experiencing, Sophie would go to the museum, but without the restraints. I wouldn’t allow her to be in them without someone always accompanying her.
I picked them up later that day. I asked if anyone had said anything about Sophie being in the restraints. I couldn’t help myself.
To my surprise, they said no. People walked up to greet her, and Becca mentioned that a few confused Sophie for her. I guess they’d never seen Becca and assumed Sophie was her. Aside from that, though, no one really had much to say.
What that meant was that word had spread quickly. While I shouldn’t have been taken aback, I was. It had only been four days since the FBI visit, yet somehow, people already knew to expect Sophie in restraints—at least those who knew her and didn’t confuse her for Becca.
“Were you okay in them?” I asked Sophie. “Did you feel alright being at the museum all day like that?”
“It’s one thing to wear them for a few hours in the evening but another to be stuck in them all day,” I added. “And in public view.”
“I was fine,” Sophie responded. “Becca and I found out this morning that Jack had notified the staff after our meeting, so they expected me to be like this.”
She playfully tugged at the restraints as she spoke.
Becca and Sophie shared that everyone had learned about Becca’s pregnancy—or as Sophie put it, “their” pregnancy. Becca had a small bump, not yet noticeable to everyone, but enough that it was clear she wasn’t her usual flat-tummy self. They recounted how people congratulated both.
People seemed unsure how to navigate the situation, but they didn’t mind the awkwardness. Those visiting who didn’t know Becca or Sophie assumed they were a couple, while others familiar with Sophie thought she had found someone—again, assuming they were a couple.
It puzzled those who knew that Becca and I were girlfriend and boyfriend; however, most of them were close friends and family who eventually came to understand the situation—not necessarily accept it, but understand it.
Sophie contributed to this perception by referring to “they” when discussing the pregnancy. I questioned it once but never brought it up again; there was no need to. She was right—”we” were pregnant. All three of us.
Unbeknownst to her, this choice of language helped foster a warm reception. Her responses to those inquiring created a sense of shared experience that resonated with those around them.
Even though this had happened, largely due to Sophie’s actions, she was the most surprised by the outcome. She seemed taken aback by the warmth and genuine happiness directed toward her and Becca—though part of it felt aimed at her alone. The attention was a bit overwhelming, yet it also brought her a profound sense of belonging—something she had never truly experienced before.
Granted, this was largely due in part to her being in the restraints. She remembered feeling this way—at the holiday party when Becca had handcuffed her behind her back.
She was now stuck in prisoner transport restraints for everyone to see, with no means to take them off outside of Becca removing them. And Sophie knew they wouldn’t be coming off unless it was an emergency. And so, understood that this played a role in how she was feeling.
But there was more to it. This situation forced Sophie to confront her thoughts about the community—specifically, her belief that it would never accept our family and that we would eventually have to move. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel like a leper or an outsider. Surrounded by support, her concerns about needing to flee were now in question.
As I stared at her in the passenger seat, I could see it on her face; she was torn between wanting to stay in the place she had known her entire life—except for her time away at college—and the urge to leave to protect her family.
We pulled into our driveway, and as we got out, I started pulling groceries from the car that I had picked up before getting the girls. Among the bags was a paper bag containing the restraints that Becca had worn the day of the accident. I had to go to the yard where the car was to retrieve them. We had turned the car over to the insurance company, and today was my last chance to get anything left inside.
That’s when I noticed Ruth standing behind us, followed shortly by Laura.
“Mom,” Laura said, “you just can’t leave the house and come over here. We talked about this.”
She paused, frustration evident in her voice. “If you want to go out, I can go with you, and we can take a walk—okay?”
Laura then looked up and saw Sophie in the transport restraints. “I’m so sorry—again,” she said, her focus still on Sophie.
“I know this keeps happening,” she said. “I—I just can’t keep my eyes on her all the time. I’m a schoolteacher, and we have a nurse who comes by, but it’s such a coordination mess—she sometimes has to leave before I can get home, and...”
“It’s okay,” Becca interjected. “Really, it is. We understand.”
Laura was still eyeing Sophie when she noticed that Becca wasn’t in her restraints. We could see she was about to say something, but Becca intervened. “That issue about my having to wear restraints? It finally got resolved. The sheriff’s office is aware of it.”
“Oh, okay,” Laura replied. “I—I had heard something like that. That you didn’t have to wear them anymore. I just assumed it was a result of the accident.”
She then added, “It’s just surprising not to see you in them,” she said. “You know how it is when people get used to things.”
“I know,” Becca said. “Today was my first day at the museum in a long time without needing to be kept in those things.”
Smiling, she added, “I got a lot of stares—more than when I was wearing them.”
Laura nodded. “Um—yeah. Not seeing you in them. Well, it kind of catches you off guard.”
Then she added, “But like I said, I heard you didn’t need to wear them anymore and that the authorities knew about it. No one could explain why, so I assumed it was because you had been hurt.”
“No, it’s because the matter was finally resolved,” Becca reiterated, glancing at Sophie. “But the restraints have taken on a different meaning for me now. That happens when you’re forced into those for ten months.” She gestured toward Sophie.
She continued, “So, I’ll still wear them occasionally when I’m at the museum. It underscores the importance of our work.”
Looking at Sophie, she added, “Since Sophie and I are always together, and the exhibitions truly belong to both of us, she offered to wear them too.”
“That’s why she’s in them right now,” Becca added. “We just haven’t gotten her out of them yet; we just got home.”