Pieces of Lies

by Angela Richardson

  Taking in the view of the garden, my mouth fell open. It was a spectacular display of hedge work and various stone pathways amongst large trees and flower beds, all lined with various kinds of lighting from twinkly fairy lights to bigger garden lamps which illuminated the base of some of the bigger trees and flower beds. It looked magical. “Clint this is…” His fingers expanded and his whole palm rested on my waist. My breathing quickened even more.

  “We are holding a ball out here later this month.”

  It was such a gorgeous sight. “It’s a perfect spot for one.” I noticed the gardens backed onto a lake, the water catching the light reflecting off the garden’s luminosity. “Do you have a boat as well?”

  We continued to walk through the gardens and towards the water. “We do, but my older brother Leo has actually taken it out for a few weeks.” My feet started to ache in my heels and I leant down to adjust my feet in my shoes, my dress sliding along my skin as I moved. I caught a glimpse of Clint’s eyes darting as the material shifted position along my chest. “Are your feet sore, do you want to sit a while on the mooring?”

  I sighed happily, “That would be brilliant, thanks.” Clint led the way a small distance to a mooring. As we sat, I removed my heels and let my feet hang over the edge, missing the surface of the water by inches.

  The quietness of our surroundings, paired with the crisp evening air on our faces, made us relax. We found ourselves talking through the night about our studies and what we hoped to do after graduation. I found it remarkable how easily we could converse and share bits and pieces about our likes, dislikes and future aspirations. Clint talked about his family’s business and how he was being groomed to take over, but that he really wanted to pursue finance independently in New York.

  Watching him talk about what he wanted for himself and his future, I found myself completely enchanted by his vulnerability and softness in the way he spoke. He had a depth of character I had dismissed purely because I had stereotyped him due to his playboy status and wealth. Right here, right now, he seemed so sensitive and genuine, and as he continued to talk, I imagined listening to him for many years to come. The idea felt peaceful, which only made me curse myself for feeling like I was getting attached.

  There was a break in conversation, and as Clint leant back on on the mooring, his hair fell forward and across his face, partially covering his eyes. I gently moved his hair that fell across his forehead, in a very tender and slow motion. In that instant he moved so he could grip my hand that was still on his face. He held it, staring at me. I loved it when we looked at each other. Time felt like it was standing still just for us.

  Dawn broke and the garden was now coming alive with color and life. I had not even realized the whole night had passed so quickly.

  “You know Norah, you make me want to, lose control.”

  I withdrew my hand from his. “And that’s a bad thing?”

  He turned and stared out across the lake. “It is if your future is already laid out for you and you are expected to do what you are told. It’s an incredible amount of pressure to live with day in and day out, and I can’t let myself open up and get, distracted.”

  “Is that why you keep running away from me Clint?”

  He didn’t answer and instead traced my hand with his finger as I leant back on the mooring next to him. He seemed lost in thought.

  Staring out across the lake, I watched as the sun decorated the surface of the water with hues of yellow and orange as it came alive with the aura of morning.

  “Perhaps it’s time to break free and do what you really want to do, Clint.” I swallowed hard thinking about my own advice. Clint smiled awkwardly and then shook his head.

  “How do you not have a boyfriend?” Clint asked, changing our conversation completely. “You are incredibly beautiful, intelligent and passionately free spirited. People are instantly drawn to you. How are you not taken?”

  I was staring out across the lake thinking about my past.“Oh, I’ve had boyfriends before, a couple, and I’ve even had a marriage proposal.”

  Clint looked a bit deflated then asked, “Deep end guy?”

  I nodded.

  “And what happened with that?” he asked curiously.

  “Well, my father didn’t approve,” I said with great sadness in my voice.

  Clint seemed to register what that was like. “And your dad’s approval is important to you?”

  I looked to my toes and shifted forward so they could touch the surface of the lake. I began swirling my feet in the lake, taking in the coolness of the water. It felt relaxing as the early morning sun beat down on my face. “No, my father’s approval is not important to me at all.”

  Clint pushed more, “Then why didn’t you get married?” and I kicked the water a little.

  “I told you… my dad… did not… approve.” My fists clenched as the pain of love lost sprung into my head. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to calm my thoughts. I needed to do something to deter my thinking, and get rid of the uneasiness that was circulating in me. A dark hole was getting bigger and growing inside me and it would soon take over if I didn’t act accordingly.

  “This conversation is boring me, c’mon, let’s do something.” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Like what?” Clint asked.

  I stared out at the lake again. “Let’s go for a swim.”

  I got up and started to peel off my red dress until my skin was exposed, showing off the small pieces of black lace undergarments that were considered underwear. I had a long waif-like body with an ample bosom which I think I had gotten from my mother, but I had only ever seen pictures of her so I was never really sure about my genetic makeup. I certainly did not have the look of my father.

  “Norah, I’m not sure it’s a good idea.” Clint had not taken his eyes off my black lace bra and panties.

  “What, do you have to check with the Lappell first to see if you are allowed to go for a swim?” I was challenging him. After listening to him talk all night about his family and the Lappell and how much they determined his life, I gave him an opening to do something without thinking.

  “No. I don’t have to check with anyone.” He gave me one of his cheekiest smiles and started undressing until he was standing bare-chested, wearing only his white designer boxer shorts.

  We stood, staring at each other, taking in the look of our bodies. Clint’s normally combed back blond hair was now disheveled and hung around his face, which I liked, a lot. His lean muscular body towered over mine. He had broad tanned shoulders that led down to beautiful sculpted abs and that sexy V formation I did love on men. That made me swallow, but I shifted my eyes back up to his. As much as I enjoyed looking at a nicely toned body, what attracted me most to any guy was the feeling I got when I looked into their eyes. The sense of who they were and how that spoke to me and my inner being. I loved when I looked into Clint’s eyes. I felt like he was letting me see a part of him that he didn’t let people see very often and that turned me on. I stayed fixated on them, finding myself wanting to touch him because of how his stare made me feel. It heated me like nothing I’d ever known.

  Sensing the growing sexual vibe radiate between us, I giggled and pushed Clint into the lake. He fell in, creating a monstrous splash, while I followed him, diving through the water with grace. It was freezing but we didn’t care. We played in the lake, wrestling and taking turns pushing each other’s head underneath the water. I began to laugh uncontrollably, which forced Clint to laugh too. The way our personalities bounced off each other was infectious.

  “What are you doing Clint?” A rather stern voice came from the mooring. We both immediately stopped laughing and spun in the water to look at the figure staring at us. A woman in her late forties, dressed immaculately in a cream shift dress, stood with a look of bemusement on her face.

  “Nothing mother, Norah and I just decided to go for a swim.” Clint’s voice cracked as he said it.

  “Well come up to the house
now will you. I’d like to meet this… Norah.” Clint looked at me nervously and started to swim back to the mooring as his mother turned and walked back up to the house. I followed behind him, sensing the tension of the situation already unfolding. Shaking the water off my body and slipping my red dress back on, it quickly became saturated by my wet underwear.

  Clint saw I was shivering and grabbed his tuxedo jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. “I should be able to find some dry clothes for you up at the house.”

  I felt nervous, the words of his mother still fresh in my head, “I want to meet, this… Norah.” The way she spoke my name was so distasteful. I was sure this was going to be an uncomfortable experience.

  There was a chef’s kitchen and an outside dining area that was located on the other side of the mansion, quite a distance from where the evening’s events were held. I wasn’t sure how early in the morning it was, but my eyes were beginning to get heavy from staying up the whole night. The courtyard where Mrs. Weston was sitting was surrounded by hedges and small flowers. Off to the left side of the courtyard, a large stone birdbath was spurting a small stream of water, creating the most soothing sound. It was picture perfect for outdoor dining.

  “There is a ladies room inside and I’ve already asked our servants to lay out some dry clothes for you while we dry your dress dear.” Clint didn’t say anything and helped me towards the kitchen and then to the door of the bathroom. “I’ll just be outside, please come join us when you are ready.” Clint seemed a little distant as he closed the door.

  Looking around at the intricately expensive features of the space, it only just occurred to me how rich Clint’s family really was. So much so, I gasped at the grandeur that was merely the bathroom. I then noticed a powder blue tea dress hanging on a towel hook beside the grand bath tub. Looking closely at the dress, I could see tiny pink flowers embroidered all over it. The material was silk and fit perfectly over my thin frame. There were large white towels folded on a small ornate table and I used one to towel dry my hair, which then hung down my back in soft damp waves. My cheeks were already rosy from the early morning swim.

  I stared at my reflection in the huge Victorian bath mirror. With the softness of the dress and my long black hair slightly wet and flowing, I looked like I belonged in an English rose garden.

  When I walked out to the courtyard, both Clint and his mum turned to look at me. I was looking at Clint’s face, watching me take small steps towards them. His face went from blank to the most adorably sweet grin as our eyes connected. I found myself smiling stupidly back at him like a girl with a crush. Mrs. Weston turned and looked at Clint who was still staring at me like a gawky teenager. “Clint, darling, help Miss Ross with her seat. You look lovely in Delia’s dress my dear.” He got up immediately and pulled out a chair across from him and his mother.

  “Delia?” I questioned.

  “Yes, Clint’s older sister.”

  An older sister Delia and an older brother called Leo. I wonder why Clint was the pick to follow in his father’s footsteps.

  “How did you know my last name?” I asked as I sat down in the beautifully crafted wooden chair with plush cushioning.

  “Oh, Clint has mentioned you in passing conversation.”

  I glanced over at Clint, completely taken back.

  He has mentioned me to his mother?

  “I’m Helene Weston,” she said, and turned and gestured to the food. “Would you like something to eat, tea or coffee maybe?” I looked at the spread already laid out on the table. There was a small platter of tiny croissants, a dish of butter and I think a tub of apricot jam. There was also a selection of grapes, plums and figs. My stomach churned from the smell of the food. I think I consumed too much champagne during the night.

  “I’ll just have coffee thank you.”

  Helene lifted her hand, moved one of her fingers and a servant was immediately beside my chair pouring me a cup. “So Norah, I’m told you’ve just recently transferred to McLaren for your final semester. That’s unusual so close to graduation. Your family must have some pretty good friends here.” Her statements were more cloaked in questions, but I expected as much.

  “Yes, I decided to expand my network of contacts, and there is a gallery here which wanted to showcase my pieces, so I took the opportunity. I guess I am lucky to be able to transfer and still complete my studies.” I hoped that was enough of an explanation. She watched as I took a sip of my coffee. It was warm and instantly perked me up.

  “And what does your father do?”

  I set the cup down. “Oh, he is a businessman in New York. Imports and exports.” I had used that line a million times.

  “And your mother?”

  I reached for my coffee again and kept my eyes fixated on the beautifully painted china pattern on the handle. “She passed away when I was born.”

  They both went silent as I continued to drink my coffee. I was used to that reaction. People always clammed up at the mention of a dead parent.

  Finally, Clint spoke up, “Really? It’s just been you and your dad?”

  So many personal questions. It must be a ‘Weston’ thing.

  “My dad has never been single, but he never remarried, if that’s what you are asking.”

  Helene nodded at me, “He must be very protective of you, having had to take care of you all on his own.” That made me smile because she couldn’t have been more accurate.

  “He certainly is Mrs. Weston.”

  Clint stood up. “Mother I’d like to take Norah home now, if that is alright?” She nodded at him. “Norah I’m just going to change clothes because I’m still a little damp, and then we’ll go. I’ll have your dress sent back to your apartment later when it’s dry.” Clint got up out of his chair and headed back into the kitchen.

  Helene moved her seat a little closer and straightened her whole body. It was as if she had been waiting for the moment to get me alone so she could talk to me.

  “Norah, you sound like a lovely girl, and Clint has spoken fondly of you, but you must realize dear, that Clint won’t have much time for dating anyone serious until after graduation, and even then, he is going to be travelling a lot with his father.” I frowned as I listened to her politely try to deter our affections. “He has a lot to learn and prepare for, and I’m sure a long distance kind of thing wouldn’t suit your needs.”

  I hesitated, but spoke up courageously, “Are you sure that is what Clint wants?”

  She looked shocked that I had even tried to question her. “Well, he hasn’t said otherwise,” and then she gave me her best, ‘I think I know my son better than you ever will’ look.

  “Well perhaps he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want to disappoint you,” and her lips flattened into a hard line.

  “Well, I certainly hope he doesn’t.” She leaned back into her chair. I opened my mouth, ready to make another comment, but Clint reappeared and I shut it, unable to continue.

  “Ready to go Norah?”

  I took another quick sip of my coffee and said to Helene, “Mrs. Weston, it was very nice to meet you,” and she politely returned the sentiment, “It was lovely to meet you too, Norah.”

  The ride home was quiet. I could sense that meeting Clint’s mother was something he did not anticipate. Playing the conversation over in my head, I knew I had to voice my opinion., “You know Clint, if you don’t want to follow in your dad’s footsteps, you’re going to have to at least tell your parents it’s not what you want to do, otherwise they’ll assume it is what you want.”

  He looked out of his window. “Yes I know I have to tell them how I feel, but it’s not that simple Norah.”

  I shook my head and muttered, “Yes it is.”

  Chapter 5

  Speed

  Josh swung by and collected me after I was leaving class the following day. He was taking me to the campus café, ‘Villa’. It was a rustic style café with wooden booths and small potted ferns on the tables. I think it was try
ing to look Tuscan, but it looked more like a cabin in the woods then anything Italian, although it was well known that the food was delicious. We both ordered and when our food arrived, Josh laughed at my full plate which held my grilled Rueben sandwich, a mountain of fries and a big heap of coleslaw.

  “Still ordering up enough food to feed a small army I see.”

  I poked my tongue out at him, “Don’t hate me ’cause I have fast metabolism.”

  Josh laughed, “I would have thought the years would have slowed that thing down by now.”

  “Nope, I am still a string bean no matter what I eat,” I said, tossing a couple of fries into my mouth.

  “But you’ve filled out where it counts.” I saw Josh’s eyes move across my breasts.

  I scrunched up my napkin and threw it at him, “You can be such a guy sometimes you know!” Josh’s eyes looked hungry but then returned to mine and then he lowered his head. Suddenly the moment became awkward so we both just began to eat.

  “So I heard you went skinny dipping with Clint,” Josh tossed in the comment nonchalantly while I took a huge bite. I almost choked on my Rueben sandwich.

  “What’s that?” I was completely surprised that not only had Josh heard about the swim that Clint and I had had taken, but that the story had already been ‘Chinese whispered’ into a newly morphed account. “Does the Lappell send out spies to watch Clint constantly?” I was annoyed that another private moment between Clint and I was again the subject of gossip at the Lappell. Not that I was shocked. Josh’s eyebrows lifted as if still waiting for an explanation. I sighed, “No, we didn’t go skinny dipping, but we did go for a swim in our underwear if you want to accurately report back to the other schoolgirls.”