by Tenaya Jayne
I looked at him, puzzled.
"May I?" he asked, seizing the ring between his thumb and index finger.
"Of course." I shrugged.
He pulled the ring off my finger. I thought he just wanted to examine it more closely, but as soon as he had it in his grasp, he pulled my right hand up and slid it onto my third finger.
"That’s better," he said, dropping my hand.
I decided not to ask him why he cared what hand or finger I wore rings on; I was nervous about what he would say if he answered. So, I scrambled for another topic.
"Do you know about the Winchester Mystery House?" I asked.
"Yes…Why?"
"Well, I think my uncle has some kind of fixation with it, but I haven’t had the chance to ask him about it yet."
"Why do you think he has a fixation?"
"Come with me. I’ll show you."
We held hands as I led him upstairs. I was praying I could find the art glass room without too much trouble. It was hard to concentrate while I was touching him. He kept giving me the chills, in a good way. On the third floor, I began to look for the landmarks that would lead us to the strange room. I got turned around twice, making Vincent amused.
"Is there something else that resembles the Winchester Mystery House, other than the fact that all this space is really just for one person, and has no purpose?" He asked, playfully tolerant.
"Yes!" I huffed. "Ah. Here, this way."
Towing him along behind me, I spotted the framed picture that was the landmark I was looking for. We turned the corner together and were in the enigmatic room. It was just the right time of day. The afternoon sun was hitting the windows, showering the walls in bands of rainbows, and mottled colors covered the room from the light filtering through the colored glass. This seemed the right place for Vincent, strangely beautiful with a touch of mystery. He looked at the wall of windows for a moment, before turning his full attention on me. We were so close to each other.
His face and eyes were totally serious. "This is very fitting," he whispered.
My pulse forcefully began to make itself known. His eyes remained water, but just under the glassy exterior, I could see the ghosts of fire, raging. The single flame of it that burned in me, flared. My breathing became ragged. My every pore seemed to relax and contract. He moved slowly, running his fingers through my hair, before lightly touching my sternum with his index finger. The candle inside me erupted into a bonfire. His face was inches from mine. He placed both his hands on the sides of my neck, tilting my face up with his thumbs.
"Don’t close your eyes," he whispered.
I didn’t, I couldn’t. He closed the space between us. The rush of it filled me, and I once again felt that he had ruined me. I could taste his emotions on his lips. I had never kissed anyone with my eyes open before. It was strange, looking into his eyes at the same time. I was flooded with my own feelings, some of which I didn’t even recognize. His eyes penetrated my mind, x-raying the injured and damaged places of my heart. His lips didn’t hold mine all that long, but that didn’t stop the tears from coming to my eyes. Had this kiss not come with the extra features it did, like the frozen inferno inside me, it still would have been the very best I’d ever had.
His examination of my emotional nervous system had left me feeling staggered and exposed, like he had just seen everything there was to me. I looked away from him, though he was still gently holding my face. I had no chance of stemming the flow of my tears and my bottom lip was trembling. I bit down on it.
"Don’t do that," he said quietly, running his thumb across my bottom lip. "Don’t hide from me."
I gave in. I let myself cry. He kissed my tears and held me to his chest.
"I love you," he whispered, so quietly that I barely heard it.
I groaned inside myself. He had told me he loved me last night, but that was in a dream. This was reality, and the declaration didn’t make me feel strange, like it did last night. It churned ancient heartaches from my depths. No one had told me that they loved me in so long it didn’t even exist in my memory. Maybe he was the first. I didn't care if it was a lie. I cried harder, my breath coming in shallow gasps between sobs.
"Shh…" he whispered.
Vincent rested his forehead against mine and once again placed his index finger on my breastbone. This time the fire didn’t flare, it calmed. Peace spread through my body and my breathing slowed to a deep rhythm. What was he? Pheromones on his lips and narcotics on his skin. He wound his arms around me. He was covering me with more than his embrace. He was going to give me the tools I needed to repair myself. The pain of the past would be forgotten. I concentrated on my breathing, letting the steady sound of his heart lull me.
"What do you think that means?" Vincent asked me, gesturing to the windows.
I wiped my hand across my cheeks and sniffed. I had my own interpretation of the strange message, but I didn’t want to say it out loud if I was wrong. "Well…What do you think?" I asked him back.
"Hmm…Wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts…These same thoughts people this little world." He smiled at me. "I think it means to release your imagination and let it run wild."
"Yeah, that’s what I thought also."
He smiled wider, apparently happy that I had calmed down. "Come on," he said, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me from the room. "I need some fresh air."
After grabbing our coats, we went outside for a walk. The evening was swift on its way, the sun just barely shone over the tops of the trees. We walked aimlessly under the trees until it got too dark to be in the forest. I was so happy and peaceful, but still somewhat tortured by the absurdity of my new relationship. We finally sat down on the bench beside to the lake.
"Vincent, this is totally unnatural, you know?"
He smiled at me. "What is unnatural?"
"This. Us. I mean, when two people get together they meet and chat, spend time as friends, and then take it further if they want. We are all backward." I said, perplexed.
"Would you rather have it that way?"
"No," I said quickly. "It’s just so odd, that’s all. I can handle it, but…This is our first day together and there are no barriers between us. It’s like we have known each other all our lives, maybe it’s even deeper than that."
"That's true, but there is still plenty for us to learn about each other. Neither of us knows what tomorrow will be like. Our relationship will grow like other people’s. Only ours will be better, worthy of envy. Our love will be superior to any you could find in a book or movie. Our love will be the standard."
I loved what he was saying, but I still hadn’t successfully banished all rational thought from my mind. I smiled and then grimaced. "Ugh. I feel like I’m living in a paradox."
Vincent’s eyes lit up in a strange way at my words. "Hey, do you know what a paradox is?"
I looked at him sideways. It sounded like he was trying to tell a joke. "I give up," I said slowly.
"A couple of physicians."
It was the worst joke I had ever heard, but I was still laughing loudly, in spite of myself.
"That is so stupid," I said, still chuckling.
"Then why are you laughing?" he teased back.
"I have no idea."
We finally got too cold to stay outside. The sky had clouded over and the snow was lightly drifting around us. The warmth of the house stung my icy cheeks. A flashing light on the answering machine caught my attention. Uncle Jack had called.
"Hey there, Dulcee. Just calling to let you know I got in okay. I guess you’re not near the phone. I don’t know the number here so I’ll call back later tonight. I hope you are doing okay. Talk to you soon. Bye."
I felt terrible. I had not thought about my uncle since Vincent came into my life. And I was guilty over all the lies I was about to tell Uncle Jack. I couldn’t tell him about Vincent, not yet. There was nothing I could think to say that didn’t sound absurd. It was absurd. Uncle Jack would think Vincent was a psycho
who wanted to kill me, or that I had lost my mind. I wasn’t sure what would happen when Uncle Jack came home. I feared it.
Vincent went straight for the kitchen and began to bang pots around loudly and set ingredients on the counter.
"What are you doing?"
"I’m going to make you something special for dinner," He said, smiling at me.
"Oh. You don’t have to do that. I mean, you made me brunch earlier. I can make dinner."
Vincent looked a little awkward, maybe even disappointed. I backtracked instantly.
"I’m sorry. You planned this…Is this a special occasion?" I asked, smiling, trying to reassure him.
"I think so. I kind of thought of tonight as being our first date."
"Oh. Okay. I’ll go get ready then."
He smiled slyly. "I’ll beep you when dinner is ready."
I could tell there was something he wasn’t telling me, something he thought was funny. I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously, but he turned his back to me, heading for the freezer. I sighed, resignedly, I would know soon enough. I pulled my coat off and headed up to my room.
When I entered my room, my jaw dropped. The curtains were drawn and lit candles all through the room were giving it a soft romantic glow, and there was quiet music playing. A large wrapped box lay on the bed. Thrilled, I walked over and unwrapped it.
My breath caught in my chest. In the box lay the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. It was made of a very pale pink satin with iridescent beads trimming the hem and collar, and white sheer sleeves. I held it up to myself looking in the mirror. It was my second vain moment that day. Also in the box were shoes to match, they looked like iridescent glass. I had died and become a princess.
I noticed the door to the bathroom was ajar and candle light was coming from there. Pushing the door open, I gasped again. A bath was drawn. There was a very sweet perfume in the air. Rose petals were scattered over the floor and in the bath. I slipped my boots and socks off and put my toe in the water. It was the perfect temperature. Still a little cold from being outside for so long, I was more than happy to get in.
I spent a long time in the bath with a knot of nerves in my stomach. This was going to be our first date. I was trying to fight down the thought that dates in general were a bad idea. I had only been on two actual dates in my life and both were much the same. Each boy had thought if he spent a small amount of money on me, and a little bit of time acting as if he cared about what I had to say, then they could try to coerce me to "put out." As if I could be bought so cheaply.
I ground my teeth together angrily at the memories. Then I thought about Vincent. What was going to happen when our date was over? What did he expect from me? He seemed much more a man than I did a woman. Would he try to coerce me? He would, no doubt, succeed. With all of his talents, it would be like fighting an unarmed person, for him. Then I really thought about him. He wouldn't be like that. In fact, I thought about how he might respond if I was the one to suggest it, and I gathered he would be disappointed, or maybe even offended.
Was my anxiety really what I thought it was? I had seen what the consequences of going too far too fast were. I promised myself long ago I would not let sex ruin my life. The root of my fear was actually my own weakness. Vincent made me weak. Then I remembered one of Vincent's notes, I am incapable of hurting you, physically or emotionally. The candle inside my chest flared, and I sighed with euphoria. I trusted him, completely.
When I finally emerged from the tub, I started getting ready for the evening. I had the counter around the sink covered with all the beautifying products I owned. The bath had steamed the mirror up, so I went and put on my underwear and a slip before returning to the bathroom. Once the fog had cleared from the mirror, I gaped at my own reflection again. I didn’t need any make-up, and I didn’t need to style my hair. It was such a cool added bonus to the gift Vincent had given me.
I left the bathroom and stood beside the bed where my dress was laying. I looked at it for a moment, afraid to put it on. I thought about my unfortunate tendency to get food on my clothes. It would break my heart if I spilled anything on this.
The loud beep of the intercom made me jump. I was out of time dinner was ready. I pulled the dress over my head; it fell around me, the hem touching the floor. I looked at myself in the full mirror on the closet door and almost started crying. I was so happy. Never had I looked so beautiful, or grown up. Everything fit perfectly, even the shoes. Bracing myself for the evening, I left my room.
I walked very slowly and carefully down the stairs, so I wouldn’t fall. The lights were dimmed and the fire in the living room was burning. Classical music was playing and a wonderful aroma filled the house.
I went to the kitchen first but Vincent was not there, he was in the formal dining room. One end of the long table was set for the two of us, and spread with all the beautiful food Vincent had made, some of which I didn’t even recognize. He was standing at the end of the table in a dark grey suit, his sleek black hair tucked behind his ears. My heart fluttered at the sight of him.
His eyes flashed when I walked in. "Wow," he said a little breathlessly.
I smiled and blushed down to my toes. He pulled a chair out for me and when I drew near he grabbed my hand and kissed it. A warm chill shot up my hand all the way to my shoulder. I sat down and he pushed my chair in. He proceeded to serve me all the things he had made for me, with a bit of a flourish. Then he sat down, and we ate.
It was so formal. I tried to eat delicately, taking much smaller bites than I normally would have. I felt awkward. We didn’t talk much as we ate, but kept looking at each other and smiling sheepishly. He acted as if I was equally as attractive to him as he was to me. This idea made a thousand butterflies beat their wings against the inside of my heart.
When we were finished eating, he poured both of us a glass of wine and we retreated to the living room to sit by the fire.
"Did you enjoy dinner?" he asked.
"It was wonderful. Thank you. I shall be spoiled to regular food from now on."
The ball of nerves that had been with me all evening started to ease the more I sipped my wine. The alcohol was starting to have an effect. I decided to stop drinking, and set my glass down on the coffee table. Vincent did the same. I turned to face him and he traced his finger along my jaw. I shivered. His face was only inches from mine and he was looking intently at my mouth, like it was a glass of water and he was dying of thirst. Kiss me! Kiss me! My pulse hammered as he ran his finger lightly over my bottom lip. I exhaled raggedly and closed my eyes.
Vincent’s breath caressed my lips and…
The phone rang. It was tragic! We both jumped about a foot in the air. Vincent exhaled in a loud huff, his hand on his chest like the phone had nearly given him a heart attack. Laughing loudly, I got up and walked over to the phone. I knew it was Uncle Jack. I took a deep breath and picked up the phone.
"Hello." I tried to sound natural.
"Hey there! Glad I got you this time." Uncle Jack sounded very tired. "What were you up to when I called this afternoon?"
"Uh, I was outside taking a walk, it was a beautiful day." I looked over my shoulder at Vincent but he wasn’t in the living room anymore.
"Are you doing okay?" Uncle Jack asked.
"Yes," I replied truthfully. "Never better. I’m really enjoying myself."
"Good. Good. I was worried."
"How are things for you?" I asked
"Oh…fine," he said, but I could tell he was lying. We both had things to hide.
"When are you coming back?" I asked, trying to sound offhand. This was what I wanted to know more than anything else.
"It’s hard to say exactly. I know I told you three weeks but I think it will be five. Do you think you'll be able to stand two extra weeks?" He sounded apologetic.
A broad smile broke across my face. "Without a doubt. No problem. Don’t worry about me just focus on what you need to."
"Okay. It was good to talk to
you. I wish I could talk more but I’m so exhausted."
"Hey, me too," I said, not wanting to spend another second on the phone. "Goodnight, Uncle Jack."
"Goodnight, Sweet Girl. I’ll talk to you soon."
"Bye."
I hung the phone up, that had gone better than I thought it. I didn’t feel as guilty as I had before because I knew he was lying too. Now that I had a time frame, all my thoughts were back with Vincent. Where did he go?
I looked over at the clock and was surprised. It was almost midnight. He had turned off most of the lights and the house was closed up. I slipped my shoes off and went upstairs. I figured he was in my room and I felt my nerves come back with a vengeance. What happens now? I was tired but I wasn’t ready for our date to be over. I wanted to spend more time with him.