Ellen got out of the car and then reached for the bag of groceries. She had been looking forward to cooking for the two of them.
“Oh well,” she sighed, shoving the car door closed with her elbow.
She set the groceries on the porch while she unlocked the front door. An envelope taped to the glass caught her eye. She opened it. Written in sharply pointed cursive, the note read:
Ellen,
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both...
“Robert Frost.”
She smiled. But who put it here? Mason? Unlocking the door, she stepped into the house and took in a startled breath. Two paths made entirely of red rose petals spread out before her. One ran up the staircase and another led down the hallway to the kitchen. Their sweet, spicy smell permeated the house.
“Mason, are you here?” she called out, but no one replied. She followed the path to the kitchen.
By the basement door, a beautifully wrapped box with a card attached waited. Picking it up, she opened the door. Votive candles lined the length of the old wooden staircase. Someone had blackened the windows with pieces of cardboard. She flicked on the light, but it didn’t come on. Checking the fixture, she saw the bulb was missing. Her heart beat faster. Goose bumps prickled her arms.
“Mason, are you down there?”
Silence.
Ellen, not fond of basements, especially old ones like in this house, closed the door, went to the kitchen table and then opened the card.
To my mistress,
It has been said that only when darkness overtakes our daytime defenses do our senses awaken. This road leads to those unexplored carnal fantasies. And I, your willing subject, am ready to escort you down into this sinister world, where the two of us can discover the pleasures of our pain.
Mason
Hands trembling, Ellen unwrapped the package. She lifted the top gingerly, peeling back white tissue paper. Gasping, she beheld a shiny, black leather teddy. Picking up the garment, she giggled like a shocked school girl. Barely a teddy, it was some sort of harness with leather straps crisscrossing into a unique pattern that exposed breasts and buttocks. Next, she pulled out a black leather choker with an attached leash.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “I wonder who’s supposed to wear this?”
She also found a black satin blindfold and, to her utter astonishment, a black whip. She carefully examined it. A cluster of smooth threads fanned out from the braided leather handle. She struck her palm, expecting it to sting, but it felt like silk rippling over her skin. Considering the provocative items, her heart raced and a tingling, wet excitement spread between her thighs. She glanced at the cellar door and then reread the card. What carnal desires would she and Mason unearth down there? Not ready for such a discovery, she decided to investigate the other path.
Ellen followed the rose petals up the staircase. They led into her bedroom. Vases of different colored roses adorned every conceivable spot in the room. On the bureau an arrangement of pink roses with lit, white tapered candles, decorated her silver candelabra. A Victorian gift bag with a card attached waited on the bed. Enjoying Mason’s little game, she opened the card.
To my Queen,
This road leads on a quest of self-discovery. Destiny ordained me to be your knight in shining armor. With my trusted sword, I will subdue the demons of your inhibitions, thus freeing you to experience new ways to love and take your passion to greater heights.
Your humble servant, Mason
“Oh, Mason,” she sighed. Sinking down on the bed, she peered into the bag and then pulled out a white, ankle-length nightgown made from thin, sheer silk. Tiny, delicate pleats and small pearl buttons adorned the bodice, and intricate lace trimmed the cuffs of long, puffy sleeves that gathered at the wrists. The garment looked like something out of a Jane Austen novel. She spread the gown out on the bed and then rechecked the bag, finding a small silver box.
Her breath caught when she opened it. An antique pink and white cameo strung on a faded and worn, rose-colored ribbon held Ellen spell bound. She closed the lid and then noticed a card tucked into a vase of roses. She read it.
My Queen,
You are weary from your day of ruling reckless, unappreciative subjects. Come hither, for your bath awaits.
Mason
Ellen rushed into the bathroom. Bouquets of roses littered the space and water steamed in the old claw-footed bathtub. Mason greeted her with smiling eyes and opened arms, a towel draped over his forearm. His playful grin made Ellen breathless.
“I’m waiting to bathe my queen.”
He bowed.
The whole thing was so incredible. No one did things like that. All the time and money he spent for this moment overwhelmed her. Speechless, she fell into his arms, squeezing him so hard she nearly knocked him over.
He laughed. “I’m guessing you’re pleased.”
Ellen could only nod.
“I’m disappointed. I wanted you to choose the basement.”
“Sorry.” Ellen half laughed, half cried as she kissed him. Mason stepped back and began to undress her.
***
The evening sun cast an orange glow over the neatly mowed grass. A robin sat precariously on the edge of a stone birdbath, flapping its wings. The sound of a lawnmower purred somewhere in the distance. Ellen watched the robin take flight and then turned to look at Mason.
They sat together around Ellen’s wrought iron patio table. A large umbrella shaded them from the long lazy beams of sunlight. Mason cut a small piece of steak and then brought it to his lips. Ellen’s eyes followed the movement of his jaw as he chewed, swallowed, and then dabbed his mouth with his napkin. Returning it to his lap, he cut off another bite, abruptly lifting his gaze.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare at someone when they’re eating?” he asked, pointing the tip of his knife at Ellen.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. You have impeccable table manners.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No. It’s curious.”
“Curious?”
“Yes. I never pictured a biker being so at ease with silverware and a napkin.”
Ellen smiled. “I was expecting you to hold your fork like a shovel and not come up for air until you ate the whole thing.”
She demonstrated.
Mason shook his head. “Your prejudices are showing, and that’s not acceptable for a principal, much less a queen.”
“Touché, my favored knight! So tell me, Mason Hackett, where did all this come from?”
“What do you mean?”
“This.” Ellen spread her arms wide. “This night gown, the cameo, the flawless manners. The scrumptious bath.” A shiver ran up her back as she recalled how his soapy hands had touched her body earlier. “And the expense of it all. Don’t tell me it’s the typical Sons of Thunder style. I was at that rally, remember?”
Mason put down his fork, picked up his bottle of beer, and then took a sip. “I figured I owed you something nice after tearing your nightgown last night.”
“You can’t tear this one. It’s too pretty.”
“I was planning on chewing that one off of you.”
White teeth flashed. Tiny lines formed at the corners of his eyes; the sun caught his hair. Ellen couldn’t imagine ever not wanting to look at this man.
“Hmmm.” She rested her cheek in the palm of her hand. “It was worth a torn nightgown to see you like that last night.”
“You’re saying you like to piss me off?”
Ellen smiled. “If it works to my advantage.”
Leaning over the table, he grasped her hand, and his eyes ensnared her. Heat crawled up her neck; a sharp, edgy sensation contracted her rib cage, making it hard to breathe.
“You’re not afraid of me then?”
The smooth, sinister, richness of his voice made Ellen squirm. “Should I be?”
He squeezed her hand. “No. So w
hy can’t I go down on you?”
Ellen sighed, looking up at a cloudless, purple sky. A single star, a million years old, made Ellen lonely. She looked at Mason, pulled her hand free, and then inspected her nails to buy time. How did she tell a stranger about a man she adored, but who never understood her passion?
“I loved my husband, Mason. Paul was a hard worker. He owned a landscaping business and was becoming quite successful when he was killed. He always encouraged me to pursue my dreams. But he came from a very traditional family and had a hard time with some sexual acts… like that one.”
She folded her hands on the table, looking at Mason. His expression somber and nonjudgmental, Ellen continued. “He thought oral sex was repugnant. The other night when you started to do that, Paul’s voice and his look of utter disgust, began banging around in my head. I’m afraid his ghost still haunts me.”
“Did you ever go down on him?”
She bit her bottom lip. “When we first got married, I would. I didn’t come from a family who had a lot of issues about sex, and Paul was the first person I had sex with. Twenty years old, I was ready, sexual taboos be damned!”
She smiled.
“You little Delilah! You’re going straight to hell.”
Mason reached for her hand.
“After a few times of having sex like that, Paul told me I didn’t need to do it anymore. He wondered why I did it in the first place. I told him I thought he was enjoying it… I mean… he could’ve fooled me.”
They both laughed.
“He didn’t think a woman like me should do something like that. He made me feel ashamed… dirty…. So I stopped.”
Ellen shrugged.
“What about other lovers? I mean after your husband died.”
Ellen dropped her head; she twisted the napkin by her plate into a tight roll. When she finally answered, she spoke in such a soft voice he could barely make out the words. “There hasn’t been anyone else. Until you.”
She looked up.
“Come over here.” Mason scooted his chair back from the table.
Ellen got up and went to him. She sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. She rested her head on his shoulder. Her hair smelled like the roses inside the house. He embraced her, rocking her gently.
“Where did you come from, Mason? You don’t seem real to me. Am I going to close my eyes and when I open them find you’ve been just a lovely dream?”
Overcome with foreign emotions, it took him a moment to respond.
“I’m real, Ellen,” he whispered into her ear. “If you drop me, I’ll break.”
She rubbed the soft prickle of his beard, the smoothness of his temple, and then kissed him. She wanted time to stop so she could savor his image and allow this moment of total satisfaction to linger awhile longer. She got up from his lap and then took her seat. She picked up her wine and smiled. “So tell me something about Mason Hackett.”
Mason leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs.
“I’m the youngest of six. Five brothers. My father is a retired army lieutenant colonel. A strict disciplinarian, he made certain his children knew how to behave. Believe it or not, my mother was an English teacher but quit when she started having kids. They sent me to West Point after high school, but I dropped out after the first semester. I doubt I will ever be forgiven. After several years of fast and loose living, I ended up in Milwaukee and got a real job. And then one night I stopped to help a damsel in distress and met you.”
“Where did the romantic Mason come from?”
Mason sighed. “My mom, I guess. She’d get into poetic moods, haul all of our asses into the living room, and read poetry. Frost, Whitman, Dylan….When we got old enough, she forced us to read Lady Chatterley’s Lover. She wanted her boys to know how to woo a woman.”
“She did a good job. I’d give you an A-plus-plus for tonight.”
Mason reached under the table. Running his hand up Ellen’s thigh, he attempted to divert the conversation to something much less personal. “Here’s a trivia question for you, what name does the gamekeeper give his dick in Lady Chatterley’s Lover?”
Ellen squeezed her eyes shut and smiled. “That’s a tough one. Do I get a life line?”
She opened her eyes.
“Absolutely not.”
“Well… I believe… he referred to his genitals as John Thomas and Connie’s as Lady Jane.”
“Well done, my queen!”
“It was an easy question. Lady Chatterley is one of my favorite novels.”
“I should’ve known.”
Mason smiled and leaned back. Looking at Ellen was like holding an old negative up to the light. With the sun setting behind her, it lit up her sheer nightgown, exposing her nakedness underneath. Oblivious to her provocative silhouette, Ellen chattered innocently about the book. Mason half listened as his bedroom thoughts stole his attention, but then he remembered the phone call he’d taken this morning, and it robbed him of his pleasure. He took another drink of beer.
“I forgot to tell you, Ellen. Your son called this morning. I think I scared him by answering the phone. He asked me if I was a stranger and then thought I’d kidnapped you. Your sister Samantha got on the line and gave me the third degree. She seems like a real smartass, like you. She said she’d call you on your cell. Anyway,” Mason said, leaning forward, “I think I need to know about autism.”
Ellen’s body stiffened. Her face turned as pale as the night he found her on the highway. With shaky hands, she picked up her glass, took a sip of wine and then reached for his hand. He held it and smiled even though dread pounded the air out of his lungs.
“I could rattle off the medical diagnosis of what autism is, but it wouldn’t mean much. It affects each person differently. JD likes routines, changes—even small ones—bother him. He’s extremely anxious and has a hard time making conversation. He memorizes lines from movies or cartoons and uses those to speak. The professionals call it echolalia. I call it amazing that anyone can memorize so many movies and use the lines appropriately.”
She took a deep breath. Mason stared at her, listening intently. The air felt a little heavier, but she knew she had to continue.
“JD has tantrums—I call them meltdowns—when he gets over stimulated. He’s afraid of harmless things like butterflies but then has no real sense of danger. I always have to watch when he gets near a busy street because he forgets to look for cars. Most of the time, he lives within a fantasy world and doesn’t seem to care about what’s happening around him. JD and my sister Samantha will be here the day after tomorrow. We won’t be alone anymore. Things are going to change. I have no idea how JD will react to you. He might be fine, or he might be terrified.”
She squeezed Mason’s hand tighter.
“JD means everything to me. And you need to know he will always come first because he has to.”
Mason pulled his hand away and then stood. Darkness had fallen. Hands on hips, he looked up at the clear night sky and searched for the Big Dipper. Playing second fiddle to a child irritated his ego like the itchy wool scarves of his childhood his mother had wrapped around his neck on frigid winter mornings. Again Ellen’s all or nothing attitude made him defensive. He exhaled and then gripped the edge of the table with both hands. Leaning forward, he looked into her eyes. “That’s a lot to take in for a bachelor like me.”
Ellen dropped her gaze.
“I know it is, Mason. And if it’s too much….” She rubbed the cameo between her thumb and index finger. “If you can’t do this, I won’t hold it against you.”
Her graciousness pissed him off.
“Now who’s selling us short?” Mason rebuked. “You don’t think much of me, do you, Ellen?”
Ellen looked up. Stunned eyes studied his face. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I—’’
“I know what you were trying to do,” he snapped and then began to pace the length of the patio. A long silence ensued. Stars dusted the dark sky. The neigh
borhood void of human voices and the natural singing of birds concentrated the stillness. Mason grabbed his chair, placed it in front of Ellen, and then took her hands.
“It’s not that I don’t like kids. When my nieces and nephews are around, it’s awesome. But that’s not the same thing as being a father, and that’s what you want. I don’t think I have what it takes to be a parent. I’m selfish.”
Ellen’s bottom lip quivered. He needed to reassure her, but he didn’t know how. He swallowed.
“I’ve never met anyone like you, Ellen. I don’t want to stop seeing you, so all I can tell you is that I’ll try.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “That’s all I’m asking for, Mason.”
He wondered what kept Ellen going. Whatever it was, it made him feel unworthy. He stood, pulled her up from the chair, and then kissed the top of her head. Releasing the clip holding her hair, it fell down around her shoulders in tender waves. Gently, he nudged her face upward and then kissed her with a long deep kiss, tasting the salt of her tears.
“Don’t cry. Have you forgotten I’m your knight in shining armor?”
“No,” she said with a faint smile. “I’m only hoping you can be JD’s, too.”
CHAPTER fifteen
Ellen stood naked in her closet. Mason watched from the bed as she slipped on a white, terrycloth robe like the kind from a five-star hotel. The past two days had gone by so quickly. The ease in which he’d fallen into this new relationship was so different from his previous attachments. It surprised Mason how comfortable and relaxed Ellen made him feel. It was as if he’d always known her and there had never been a time when he didn’t.
“I’m going to miss sleeping with you tonight.” Ellen said.
“Why can’t I sleep with you tonight?” he asked as he yawned, stretching his arms behind his head.
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