“Are you sure it’s safe down here?” The blonde asked.
“Absolutely. It’s just dark and musty.”
“What do you mean by magic?”
It was the question he’d been dreading all day. He had committed himself to telling her his secret, though. He loved her and he didn’t want that hanging over their relationship if it was going to work out. He would trade it all for her if that was what it would take.
He turned at the opening to the main chamber, just as she was reaching the bottom of the stairs. He shined his light on the ground at her feet as his own face was illuminated by hers. “Every time a woman walks across the threshold of the house above, she…”
He paused for a moment, but she spurred him on.
“She what?”
“Well, do you remember what you felt when you first came into the house?”
She laughed. “I wanted to jump your bones, but I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”
He shook his head. “Really?”
She smiled. “What’s this all about, Will?”
Will Robinson was at a loss for words. Had Linda really had the hots for him for all these years, since high school?
“It’s about the house, Linda. I’m not joking. I just want to be completely honest with you because I love you.”
He was having a hard time keeping his thoughts straight. After the months of using the house’s powers for his own benefits, he’d found that the only woman he really wanted was Linda, and for her to tell him that she’d liked him all along was almost earth-shattering.
All the spells he’d learned from the book in the secret chamber and everything else…they’d been fun and all, but she was the only thing that mattered.
“You’re freaking me out, Will.”
“C’mon, I’ll show you.”
He led her to the secret panel in the stone and opened the massive hinged door into the room he called the dungeon.
“Ew.” Linda said, her light shining on the old bondage equipment.
“That’s not what I have to say.” Will said, directing her towards the book. “The house is magic. I know you won’t want to believe me, but any woman that walks across the threshold upstairs wants to have sex with me.”
“Will…” Linda started.
“No, I’ve got to say it. It started with the lawyer from my uncle’s estate when she came by after I started working on the house. She just needed me to sign some additional paperwork before…”
“You had sex with Marjorie Simpson?” Linda said, shocked. She lowered the book to her waist just as she was about to open it.
“Just hear me out, Linda. Please. The book also contains spells that can do other magical things. Remember when you were looking for your dog and she showed up on my front porch?”
“That’s just coincidence, Will.”
“It’s not. I used a spell that is supposed to bring me whatever I require. It’s right there in the book.”
“What are you saying, Will?”
“I’m just trying to confess everything to you. I don’t want our relationship to be built on a manipulation.”
Linda stared at him angrily. “Like what we did upstairs just now.” Her face was getting redder and redder. “You just wanted one more fucking bang before admitting to me that you’ve been cheating on me with Marjorie?”
“I’m sorry, Linda, but…”
“What if I show that to someone, huh?” Linda yelled, twisting her wrist to show the cut that was already scabbing over.
Will was on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, the vase knocked over when we were rolling on the floor. Normally you like…”
“Fuck off, Will.” She yelled. “Are you going to do some magic on me from this book to keep me shut up about your cheating?” The sneer in her words was biting.
“No, Linda, I don’t want…”
She opened the book to a random page in the spell section and spoke in that same sarcastic tone:
To the source through dusk of time
Pay my dues back down the line
Lights flashed, illuminating the chamber like Will had never seen before. It seared into his eyes like the flash of a thousand cameras, leaving him blinking to attempt to shut out the glowing shadows of its passage even through his closed lids.
When he was finally able to see in the dim light again, Linda Sue Carmody was gone.
End of DIY with the Divorcée
Book Four – Supervising the Sorority
Chapter One
Plain old regular Mike was back, even within the confines of Rochester Mansion. The study was gorgeous. Rich, dark wood was shadowed in deep built-end bookcases that stretched to the ceiling, already graced by numerous gilded spines proclaiming the best in classical literature and philosophy. The furniture was formal, yet luxuriously comfortable; everything you would have expected from an upper-class home built in the late nineteenth century.
It was the women, and the situation that were off. Well, at least that’s what Mike figured. He wasn’t sure if the situation he was in was something that faced most Victorian homeowners at the time, and if it did, it probably didn’t turn out quite like this was turning out.
“I never thought you two got along.” Mike said, having a hard time preventing his eyes from darting back and forth between the nineteen-year-old redhead and his gorgeous ex-wife who was nearly ten years her senior though not a scrap less beautiful.
Aimee laughed. “That’s usually going to happen when two women are so similar.” She said. “After Larry stormed out…”
Larry.
The man Eliza had left him for, but now the man she had apparently left for him. The irony was there, along with the irony that not only had Mike won back Eliza’s heart, he’d managed to steal away Larry’s daughter, Aimee as well.
Hence the tension, though that was quickly hissing away like a leaking tire.
“Larry stormed out?” Mike asked.
“He’s probably off to a girlfriend anyway.” Eliza said, rolling her eyes. “Which is why Aimee and I started talking about you.”
“Me?”
“Well, not you, exactly.” Aimee said. “Basically, I told her about the guy that I was dating and that we loved each other but agreed that it wasn’t exclusive.”
“…and I wanted her to tell me more about it because I was interested in a guy who had been talking about the same thing.”
Aimee took a sip of her drink. “After that we started talking about lovers and stuff like that. It was definitely more of a friends thing, like hanging out with the girls. She told me just how sweet and nice her guy was, and I told her mine was the same but could be wicked dirty in the sack.”
“Yeah, when I mentioned how you get goosebumps the moment before you cum, that pretty much sealed the deal.”
Aimee laughed. “It’s cute, really.”
Mike could feel the flush in his face like it would read out as a fever on one of those touchless thermometers. The whole conversation was like a huge invasion of a privacy that he had no right to. They were both his lovers and he was in love with both of them.
“So, what does this mean?”
Eliza laughed. “Well, as well as we’re getting along right now, I’m not ready to jump in the sack with my step-daughter, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Mike made some flustered sounds that drove his embarrassment even deeper to the amusement of both women present.
“Well, I’m not going to be your step-daughter for long, then.” Aimee said, a wicked grin on her face.
“Perhaps we can re-evaluate once the deal is done.”
“So…” Mike said, trying to regain his composure.
“So, I’m going to move back into the house. Our old house. And if you’re game…”
“…I’m going to move in here!” Aimee said. Both women glanced at each other with what seemed like a nod of agreement before turning their eyes to him.
“I think…”
“
He thinks he has a choice.” Eliza laughed.
“It’s cute, really.” Aimee agreed.
It was Mike’s turn to laugh.
Was all of that him, or was it the house?
Chapter Two
The fact that he hadn’t had a massive catfight on his hands was incredible, though even he knew it probably wouldn’t have been a catfight so much as a cougar and a feisty young leopard mauling him within an inch of his life.
It took a little bit of the weight off his shoulders. The other weight was Rochester Mansion. The rational side of his mind told him to give it up. Let the old home fall back into disrepair and let some other soul discover its mysteries another ten years down the road. Unfortunately, that was partially what had happened with the previous owner, though that hadn’t exactly been Will Robinson’s choice.
Mike’s email to the convicted murderer had been quickly answered with an invitation to visit him at the state penitentiary. With two of the three loves of his life squared away and making plans for the future, Mike was on his way there to see if he could square up one further aspect of his life. He felt like he’d be able to judge Will within just a few minutes, but was that really fair? Judging whether or not a man is capable of murder through a brief conversation wasn’t fair to him if you quickly judged him guilty, nor was it fair to his victim if you unnecessarily gave him the benefit of the doubt.
It was a conundrum that still vexed him as he went through the uncomfortable searches and procedures required to let him into the visitation area where he was to meet his home’s previous and less fortunate owner.
Linda Sue Carmody was definitely on his mind, though so was Rochester Mansion. Its mysteries were far deeper than Mike realized and even he knew that. What would drive a man with its powers in his hand to murder, anyway? It would be the furthest thing from his mind. He did toy with the thought that if his new way of life was threatened…what would he do?
Probably not that, he thought. Definitely not.
A buzzer rang and several inmates came in through the security door that was no more guarded than the one he himself had entered. If he felt uncomfortable, he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like on the other side of that doorway. One by one they were reunited with family or friends to sit around the little tables and chairs that Mike had quickly noted were bolted securely to the floor. It seemed odd with the crackle of emotion in the air that he could feel all around him that no one was hugging. There were no embraces, no kisses; simply nods and tear-streaked faces.
Mike had the rules drilled into him at least three times since he had entered the building, and most likely it wasn’t the first rodeo for most of the other visitors.
“You Mike?”
“That’s me.”
“I’m Robinson.” He said, sliding into the metal chair across from Mike’s. “So you’re the one that ended up with the house. I’m assuming that since you’re here, you’re not just a fucking history buff.”
“Not at all.” Mike replied, feeling a bit intimidated.
“I’m sorry if I’m coming across a little brusque. I’ve been in here a long time.”
It wasn’t at all what Mike had been expecting. He wasn’t expecting what he was going to say next, either.
“Did you kill her?”
Will Robinson closed his eyes slowly and a few lines of emotion rippled on his forehead.
“No. I loved her.” It was more of a whisper. There was no hint of defensiveness or twisting to his meaning. Somehow, Mike could feel it.
“I don’t know how I can help you, but I want to try.”
The inmate opened his eyes.
“You’ve found the book, or you wouldn’t be here. You’ve been careful with it as well, or…the same.”
“I’ve used some.” Mike said, not wanting to speak many details as his assumption was that all conversations were being monitored. “Was it you, or was it her?”
“It was Linda.” Will said. “There was an argument. Hell, I admitted that to them back then, which I probably shouldn’t have. She read it and she was gone.”
“Dead?”
“I don’t know. It was something about ‘dues’. It’s been ten years. The police thought I was nuts, you know. I told them everything and when they went to try to investigate it, nothing was there.”
“No book?”
“The fucking staircase wouldn’t even open. My own lawyer even shelled out to have one of those sound tests, what do you call them?”
“Like sonar or something?”
“Something like that. There was nothing. Just solid rock beneath there.”
“That’s not possible.”
Will laughed and looked up at Mike again. “Really?”
Mike tilted his head. “Okay, so, ‘possible’ has really been stretching itself out for me lately, but you know how that is.”
“And now you know how far that can go.” Will said, ominously.
“I think it’s probably too late for me, but my advice would be for you to keep it all as pleasant memories and get the fuck out of there.”
Mike nodded. “I’m not going to say it hasn’t crossed my mind, but I’m not going to do that.”
Will gave him an exasperated look. “Your loss, brother.”
“It’s not just that. I know what you’re thinking. I could walk away right now with three women I love and who love me back.”
“Then what?”
“You.”
“Like you give a fuck about me.”
“I’m not an asshole. An asshole wouldn’t fucking be here, would he?”
There was a long silence, at least between the two of them. The air was full of whispers in multiple languages, sobbing, and outright crying.
“I guess I can tell you some of the stuff I figured out, but it’s going to have to be a bit cryptic.”
Mike leaned forward. “I can understand that.”
Will Robinson talked as best as he could.
Chapter Three
Will Robinson’s information gave Mike a lot to think about, though he didn’t have much opportunity since Aimee was around almost daily for Spring Break. She tended to spend the days with him working on the remaining rooms of the mansion and the evenings on campus, doing the sorority thing with her friends. When she wasn’t around, more often than not, Eliza was.
He was having a harder and harder time thinking of her as his ex-wife. Over the past week or so that they had been seeing each other again, things had started to feel the same as they had when they were married; just with a fundamental change. She knew about Aimee as well as Rachel Shane. In turn, he accepted that she was free to be with whomever she wanted to be as well.
Mike walked into the kitchen and filled a glass of water from the filter on the corner of the sink. It was cool and refreshing. Spring had come in with a fury and of all the things the mansion had done to rebuild itself to its former glory, air conditioning hadn’t been one of them.
“Hey, baby.”
Mike turned. Aimee stood in the kitchen doorway, a pair of tight cotton shorts riding high up on her voluptuous thighs. A university t-shirt was cut halfway, or maybe a little more than halfway, barely covering her ample breasts. He imagined that the view from the other side of the doorway would have been just as remarkable. Perhaps it was one more gift from Rochester Mansion.
“What’s up, Aimee?” He said taking another drink. “How was the party last night?”
She gave him a wicked look and walked over to him, each step a magical wonder of its own. She wasn’t the type of girl that could walk without a wiggle, and ample hips and breasts were no exception to that rule.
“I just wanted to stop by and see you.”
“Well, you’re just in time.” Mike said. “I just got out of the shower and was about to see if I can do anything about the air conditioner. It’s not original to the house, you know.”
Which is why it’s not fixing itself, he thought, sighing internally.
“Fresh out of the
shower, huh?” Aimee purred as she reached him, running her fingers up the front of his shorts from his balls to the tip of his already rising shaft.
Rochester Mansion- The Complete Series Page 11