Soul Mates

by Donald Hanley

  “As do I.” The two of them eyed each other and Melissa elbowed me again.

  “Oh my God!” she whispered. “They’re going to go have sex!”

  “They are not,” I said automatically, but it was pretty clear she was right. I felt a little twinge of something that might have been jealousy but I shook that off. I’d already made my decision about Mrs. Kendricks.

  “You are the least romantic person I know, Peter Collins,” Melissa told me tartly. “I’m going to have to fix that.” She unbuttoned the top of her blouse and pulled the collar wide, exposing an expanse of pale skin and a fair bit of cleavage. Her fairy charm dangled from its silver chain.

  “Um, what are you doing?” I asked uneasily.

  “It’s hot out here,” she informed me. She used her napkin to fan some air at her chest.

  “It’s not that hot,” I argued. It was late June in Texas, to be sure, but the sun was already behind the house.

  “You’re not wearing tights,” she pointed out. “Mr. Franklin is a dear old man but he’s a bit old-fashioned when it comes to office wear. Suits and ties for the men, long-sleeved blouses, skirts, and hose for the women,” she sighed. “I’m going to melt this summer.”

  “Well, go take them off, then. You’re not at work now.”

  “That’s a surprisingly good idea.” She kicked off her shoes and got up on her knees, hiking her skirt up.

  “What are you doing?” I asked in a strangled voice. I shot a look at Mom and Dad but they were deep in conversation with Mrs. Kendricks and Agent Prescott.

  “Taking off my tights, like you said.”

  “I meant inside the house!”

  She ignored me and wriggled them down to her knees, making my heart skip a beat when she briefly flashed her panties, the same ones I’d seen in her blouse photos. Then she sat down again and leaned back against me as she peeled them off her legs. “Oh, that feels so much better,” she sighed. She rolled her tights up into a little ball and stuffed them inside one of her shoes. “I should have done this when I got here.” She wiggled her bare toes in the grass.

  Off to the side, Lilith nudged Daraxandriel and indicated Melissa with a jerk of her chin. Daraxandriel eyed the two of us for a moment and then she grinned in a not-very-reassuring way.

  “What’s going on?” I asked her uneasily.

  “Naught that thou –” She stopped, rolled her eyes, and tried again. “Nothing that you need to worry about, Peter. All is well.” She and Lilith shared the same wicked smile.

  “Don’t you get any ideas!” I hissed at her. “We still need to do something about him!” I indicated Prescott surreptitiously.

  “He seems well-distracted to me,” Lilith said with a shrug. “I imagine he’ll be rather preoccupied for the next few hours,” she smirked.

  “Well, maybe, but we still need to keep a low profile,” I insisted. He’d apparently forgotten that he hadn’t shaken Daraxandriel’s hand yet and I didn’t want anything to remind him of his oversight.

  “Fret not, Peter,” Daraxandriel assured me breezily. “His soul is not the one I seek.”

  “Hang on, we agreed that you wouldn’t go after my soul!”

  “No, we agreed that Dara wouldn’t offer you a contract for your soul,” Lilith countered.

  “That’s the same thing!”

  “Of course it is,” she assured me. She looked particularly pleased with herself, which worried me. “Come on, Dara, I think we’re done here.” They rose and walked into the house, leaving their plates lying on the grass. None of the adults noticed them leaving, which was a relief.

  “Are you finished?” I asked Melissa, indicating her plate. The only thing remaining there was a smudge of barbecue sauce and a blob of potato salad and I wondered if she’d skipped lunch today. My plate bore four rib bones and the remains of a hamburger, although I didn’t remember eating either one.

  “Yes, unless there’s dessert?” she asked hopefully. She handed me her plate and gathered up her shoes while I collected Daraxandriel and Lilith’s plates. They’d barely touched their meals.

  “There’s probably something in the freezer,” I assured her. We brought everything into the kitchen and scraped the remains into the trash before stacking the dishes in the sink. “What a day this turned out to be.”

  “I know!” Melissa gushed. “We’re moving in together and Mrs. Kendricks found her long-lost love. It’s like Valentine’s Day in June!”

  “Um, right.” We dodged the bullet with Agent Prescott and I still had four days to figure out how to get out of moving in with Melissa without her going ballistic on me. As long as nothing else happened tonight, I was in pretty good shape.

  Susie walked in then and deposited her plate on the counter as she walked by, barely giving us a glance. “Fat lot of help you were,” I grumbled after her.

  She paused at the end of the hallway. “I was out there the whole time,” she frowned. “Wearing clothes and everything.”

  “You were fifty feet away! How were you going to stop him from shaking Dara’s hand?”

  “Lilith said I should stay out of range in case they started casting spells at each other.”

  “Since when do you listen to Lilith?” I asked incredulously. “The whole idea was to keep anything like that from happening in the first place!”

  “It sounded like a good plan,” she shrugged. “Besides, it all worked out, didn’t it?”

  “Because of Mrs. Kendricks!”

  “So? It still worked out.” She walked away, leaving me fuming impotently.

  “She’s not entirely human, is she?” Melissa asked doubtfully.

  “I wish I knew,” I sighed. “Mom won’t admit she’s adopted.”

  As if she was summoned by my words, Mom came in with the other plates, looking very pleased with herself.

  “This couldn’t have worked out better if I’d planned it this way!” she declared. “Imagine Mrs. Kendricks dropping in when her true love just happened to be here! Miracles do happen and don’t you believe otherwise.”

  She sorted through the dishes and utensils, humming to herself as she stacked them in the dishwasher, and then she looked around to see if there was anything left to go in. “Oh, Melissa!” she said in dismay. “You have something here.” She tapped her heart and Melissa looked down at herself. There was a barbecue-colored splotch on her blouse.

  “Oh no!” Melissa grabbed a dish towel and tried to dab it off but all she managed to do was smudge it around. “Shi –” She caught herself just in time. “Sugar,” she grumbled angrily. “It’s ruined!”

  “Not necessarily,” Mom reassured her. “I have some spray that might work. Take that off and I’ll run it through the cycle. It’ll take about half an hour, though,” she warned.

  “That’s okay,” Melissa said. “I wasn’t planning on leaving just yet. We still need to talk about the move.” She started unbuttoning her blouse.

  “What are you doing?” I squeaked.

  “This is one of my favorite blouses, Peter.” She pulled her arms through the sleeves and shrugged it off, handling it to Mom.

  “But you’re – you’re – standing there!” Wearing nothing but a bra and a skirt, I would have added but it seemed pretty self-evident.

  “Everything’s covered up,” she insisted. She folded her arms under her breasts, which did nothing to help my composure.

  “You’ve seen girls in bikinis before, Peter,” Mom admonished me.

  “This isn’t the same!” Bikinis were generally designed to conceal whatever was underneath. Melissa’s bra, a form-fitting construction of silk and lace, was not.

  “Well, she can wear one of your shirts if it bothers you that much. I’ll get this started.” Mom headed off to the laundry room, tut-tutting over the blouse and leaving Melissa and me alone in the kitchen.

  “Why don’t you, ah, find something to wear until your blouse is ready?” I suggested.

  “Does it bother you to see me like this?” she asked c
uriously.

  “A little,” I admitted. A lot, actually. Little Peter’s interest in the current situation was going to become obvious very soon.

  “Do you like to see me like this?” she teased, catching her lip between her teeth.

  “It’s very, um, distracting.”

  “Maybe I want you to be distracted.” She leaned closer to me. “Maybe I want you thinking about me like Mr. Prescott thinks about Mrs. Kendricks,” she whispered in my ear. “Maybe I want you to want me for the next nineteen years.”

  “That’s, um,” I swallowed with difficulty, “that’s a long time.”

  “Hm, true,” she said thoughtfully. “So how about a minute and nineteen seconds instead, give or take? I’ll be right back.”

  She walked off towards the bedrooms, pausing for an instant to give me a smoldering look over her shoulder before she disappeared down the hallway. I let out a sigh of relief and repositioned Little Peter to a less constricting orientation.

  The back door opened and Dad came in, following by Mrs. Kendricks and Agent Prescott. They weren’t holding hands but their shoulders were practically touching and they couldn’t seem to keep their eyes off each other. Both of them looked a bit flushed.

  “So are you going to be staying in Hellburn for a while?” Dad asked. It took Prescott a moment to realize Dad was talking to him.

  “Um, yes, probably,” he said, shaking his head to clear it. “I still need to finish my, ah, assignment.”

  “I’ll be at the station tomorrow. Come by and we can talk about how the HPD can help.”

  “Thanks,” Prescott nodded. “I appreciate that.”

  “You’re leaving already?” Mom asked in disappointment, coming back into the kitchen. “You just got here!”

  “Duty calls,” he said apologetically. “Thanks for dinner, June. It was wonderful.”

  “Very memorable,” Mrs. Kendricks agreed with a smile, although I doubted she was referring to the quality of the food.

  Mom and Dad followed the two of them to the front door and they stood there on the threshold exchanging the usual sort of pleasantries that dragged goodbyes out far too long. I could tell Mrs. Kendricks was starting to get antsy by the way she kept glancing over her shoulder. Finally, though, the women hugged, the men shook hands, and our guests bolted for their cars as Dad closed the door behind them.

  “Someone’s not going to get much sleep tonight,” Mom predicted, looking absolutely delighted by the idea.

  “Two someones,” Dad corrected her wryly. He noticed me standing there and cleared his throat in a warning. “I’ll, ah, make sure the grill shut off properly,” he said loudly, as if he hoped that would make me forget the conversation I just witnessed.

  “Oh, and I’d better check on Melissa’s blouse.” Mom hid her smile behind her hand and the two of them hurried off to their respective tasks.

  “I’m eighteen, you know,” I said to the empty room. “I know what sex is.” In theory, anyway.

  “Peter?” Melissa reappeared, wearing one of my t-shirts and an odd expression. “I found something in your dresser.”

  “I can see that. I wouldn’t have figured you for a Superman fan, though.” She seemed more like the Batman type. The iconic shield was stretched across her chest, distorted but still recognizable.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. I found this.”

  She held out a neatly folded triangle of white cloth. For a fleeting second, I thought it was one of my handkerchiefs, but all of mine were plain cotton and this looked like lace. Then my jaw dropped open and all of the heat in my body raced to my ears.

  “Peter,” she asked carefully, “why were my missing panties in your drawer?”

  My mind raced through a dozen possible responses that might get me through this with my health and my dignity intact. I’ve never seen those before, I have no idea how they got there. Those aren’t yours, Dara just happens to own a pair exactly like them. I felt bad about you losing them so I bought you a replacement. Someone snuck into my bedroom and planted them there to frame me. None of those excuses was going to work. I swallowed with difficulty and went with the truth.

  “I found them on the ground outside your house,” I told her. She didn’t immediately slap me, which was promising.

  “Why didn’t you bring them up to me, then?” she asked with a frown.

  “Well, you were asleep when I left and I didn’t want to wake you up.” And I really didn’t want to risk running into your dad with your panties in my hand.

  “I was asleep?” The way she said that started ringing alarm bells.

  “Um, yes?” I said cautiously. “You were pretty out of it after your initiation.”

  “Peter, I woke up naked with my clothes all over the floor.” She took a step towards me and I automatically backed up. “Did you see me?”

  Just say no, just say no. I couldn’t do it. “Only a little bit,” I hedged feebly.

  “Peter!” she gasped. She crossed her arms protectively over her chest, despite the fact that she was currently fully clothed, more or less. “How could you!”

  “It was – I didn’t – I couldn’t help it!” I protested. “You just passed out on the floor in front of me!”

  “On the floor? Then how did I end up in bed?”

  “Um –” I looked around for an escape route but it was hopeless. She was a lot stronger and faster than I was.

  “Oh my God,” Melissa breathed. “You saw me and you touched me and I was unconscious the whole time?” She moved closer but I was already backed up against the counter and I had nowhere to go. “I was completely helpless and at your mercy?” Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

  “Um.” I leaned back as far away from her as I could but she was practically on top of me now.

  “Did you have your way with me?” she whispered huskily. She placed her hands on my chest and my heart thudded against her palms. “Did you do unspeakable things to me while I was in your power?”

  “No, of course not – mmph!” Her kiss nearly sucked the air out of my lungs and her hips pressed against a particularly sensitive part of my anatomy. “Melissa!” I mumbled against her lips.

  She released me slowly, keeping our lips together for as long as possible. “I knew you didn’t do anything,” she told me with a smile. “You’re such a gentleman.”

  “The word you’re looking for is dweeb,” I muttered and she laughed.

  “You can keep these,” she said, dangling her panties in my face before tucking them into my front pants pocket, “as a souvenir.” Her lips curled into a wicked smile. “Maybe I’ll accidentally lose a few more.”

  “No, that’s okay!” I protested. “One’s plenty!”

  Melissa silenced me with another peck on my lips and walked over to the kitchen table where her laptop still sat. “Now then,” she said briskly, turning it on, “let’s get this spreadsheet filled out.”

  Mom and Dad got pulled into the negotiations when they came back into the kitchen and we ground our way through Melissa’s interminable inventory of household goods. Dad bailed on us pretty quickly, claiming he had to work tomorrow, but Mom stayed to the bitter end, debating every single item like she was drafting an international trade agreement. My main contribution to the process was agreeing with whatever they decided while trying to ignore Melissa’s bare leg rubbing against mine under the table.

  The women finally dotted every i and crossed every t and Melissa shut down her laptop, promising to email me a copy of the final agreement so I could start assembling my contribution to the cause. Mom brought her blouse out on a hanger, still damp but spotless, and Melissa thanked her effusively.

  She packed her laptop back into her satchel, left the brochures on the table for me to peruse at my leisure, stuffed her tights into her blazer pocket as she stepped into her heels, and asked me to carry her blouse out to her car. She gave Mom a hug and an air kiss and practically skipped down the walkway.

  “This has been the mo
st perfect day!” she exclaimed, tossing her bag and her jacket onto the passenger seat of her Thunderbird and then carefully laying her blouse out in the back. “I can hardly wait until the weekend gets here, can you?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I sighed unenthusiastically.

  “Oh, don’t be like that.” She draped her arms around my neck. “Just think, four days from now we’ll be spending our first night together. Aren’t you excited?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You’re just nervous,” she insisted. “Tell you what, let’s have dinner tomorrow night. With any luck, your surprise will be ready by then,” she added with a teasing smile.

  “What sort of surprise?” I asked anxiously.

  “It won’t be a surprise if I tell you. I’ll call you and let you know when and where to meet me, okay?”

  She didn’t bother waiting for a response. Instead, she smooched me and walked around her car to open the driver door and slip in behind the wheel. She waved farewell at me through the windshield and then she grinned in a way that made me very uneasy. She wiggled around like she was having trouble getting comfortable, watching me the entire time, and then she finally closed her door and started up the engine.

  “Bye, Peter!” she called with another cheery wave. “Love you!” She peeled away from the curb with a squeal of rubber and sped down the road like a drag racer, a fairly bold maneuver considering Dad was the head of the Hellburn police.

  I stood there watching until her tail lights disappeared in the distance and then I heaved a sigh as I turned to head back inside. I nearly jumped out of my skin when something small and black sped by right in front of me but it was just a cat, probably the same one I saw earlier. It darted around the corner of the fence and vanished into the shadows. I clutched my chest, waiting for my heart to recover its normal rhythm, and my eyes fell on something white on the ground, right where Melissa’s Thunderbird had been parked.

  Curious, I went to pick it up, figuring it was a piece of paper that had fallen out of her car when she opened the door. My heart skipped a few more beats when I discovered that it wasn’t paper at all. It was silk with a tiny bow in front and it was still warm. I looked around frantically to make sure there were no witnesses and hastily stuffed the article into my pocket with the rest of my burgeoning collection.