When Pat dropped off a confused Isabella at her twin “Wayne Dog” rented apartment, he asked her if she would be alright.
“Of course, nothing is wrong. Why are you asking?” asked a defensive Isabella. “That lady doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She must have done too many drugs in the ‘60’s, I feel sad for her.”
“Ok, well, let me know if you need anything,” Pat said, as he left. “I’ll be at Casper’s in Berwyn,” mentioning a local tavern, “in case you need me.”
Isabella went inside and took a shower to relax. It didn’t work. She got dressed and dried her hair, but she kept thinking about this “Rosie.” “Impossible,” she uttered, as she thought that her mother could have had another life in the Big Apple.
“OK, I’ll just take a little look,” she said, as she booted up the outdated computer that sat at her desk. “This darned thing always takes so long to log on.” Isabella grumbled.
Her first search was for “Haute Magazine” and “jeans ad” and “rose petals” and nothing came up. But, she decided that the first word would be “Ames,” plus the other search words.
“Open to the public, retrospective of the works of famed photographer and photo-journalist, Jacqui Nachman. Nachman’s works include woodlands restoration and other environmental topics, as well as the glorious photographs of jeans advertisements in Haute magazine spanning 3 decades.”
“My favorite of the jeans advertisements,” Nachman says in the interview preceding the retrospective, “was an obscure one from the 1970s. A beautiful new model named Karen, or was it Sharon, I don’t remember, anyway, she said that her middle name was Rose. I liked that, and it sort of went with it for the theme of the shot. Sporting rose petals on her midriff, she was so carefree and full of spunk - a real firebrand. I think she was the publisher’s sister or girlfriend or something. I don’t know whatever became of her, but I really loved her spirit, it was so effervescent and she was just willing to do anything, totally carefree and uninhibited.”
Accompanying the article covering the retrospective and the interview was a small reprint of the Haute ad with the caption, “The Photographers Favorite.”
While the photo was very small, Isabella was able to save it to the server and then enlarge it on the computer.
She had no doubt who she was looking at, and it was startling. Where was Jade? She needed to find her right now to help sort this all out.
Jade knew she was being a high-maintenance girlfriend by stopping over to Cyrus’ pad, unannounced, the day after their magical date.
However, she had a really good excuse to intrude. He had taken her iPad without meaning to, and she needed it for work. Wow, that sounded really good, if only she could pull it off without sounding sort of like she was desperate to see him again and planted it in his jacket pocket.
Well, serves him right for wearing blazers in the summer, she thought.
As she knocked on the door to the gatehouse of the Albero Estate, Jade recalled the last time she had been there, back when it was the residence of the Albero family. Now, it was the place where Cyrus lived while he was guarding Max on this coast.
Suddenly, her cell phone rang. It was Isabella desperately wanting to see Jade on an urgent matter. It couldn’t wait; Isabella needed to see her right away. Jade told her best friend where she was, at Isabella’s childhood home, and told her to come there right away.
Chapter 27 - A Dip In The Pool
“Don’t stop!”
Isabella to Max at the swimming pool of the Ivy Estates
By the time Isabella drove to the gatehouse from her apartment, it was dark. Her eyes were red, obviously from crying.
Cyrus, the youngest son in a family with three girls, was immediately keen on the situation. He would allow Jade and Isabella use of the gatehouse, and said that he would sleep at the main house that night. There were guest toiletries and some nightclothes he found in the back of the closet, Cyrus explained.
Upon inspection, Isabella realized that these nightdresses were sewn by, and worn by, her mother.
As Jade fell asleep in the master bedroom, Isabella tossed and turned in her childhood bedroom. The sheets felt hot, she felt overheated.
There had to be something that could cool her off. She decided to take a walk around the estate, and she took a flashlight with her to help see, although she knew her way around the estate like the back of her hand.
She found herself next to the swimming pool, a place that she had been strictly told never to go to as a child.
She walked over to the chaise lounges next to the shallow end of the pool.
“I guess I won’t need these,” Isabella commented, as she threw off her nightgown and her shoes.
It was a warm, humid September night, and she was alone at the swimming pool.
Jade was sleeping, and Isabella thought that she would use this time to catch up on all of the naughty things she had missed out on all these years.
First on the list would be skinny-dipping in the Ivy pool.
As a child, she had been mesmerized by the sight of the pool, but only was able to be near it when her father was tending to the grounds near the pool.
This was it for living life from afar, thought Isabella. From now on, she was going to live life in the fast lane.
For so many years, she had asked herself, when in a difficult situation, what her mother would have done.
Now, she was unfettered.
Sharon Rose, or Rosie as she was known in Manhattan, would have done just about anything and everything, evidently. And she did!
“Carpe diem” would be her daughter’s new motto.
The pool was a vintage style with art deco tiles surrounding it. It featured rare and unusual carvings along the wall facing the changing cabanas. There was even an outdoor kitchen for cookouts. These Ivy’s had everything.
Well, clearly, someone ought to be enjoying this tempting, tantalizing water retreat. Those Ivy’s were probably all in the Hamptons visiting with the other Main Line Brahmans. That is, except Max.
Isabella, sure to stay in the shallow end, took a few steps down. She enjoyed the feeling of the water trailing along her body.
She had decided to keep her skivvies on, which, were actually quite like a pink bikini swimsuit, come to think of it. They were a recent hand-me-down from Marissa, and Isabella could see why they would not fit her anymore, now that her friend was breastfeeding baby Ivy.
Yes, Max and Cyrus were probably the only ones in that big stately mansion, she thought. Recollecting the time in Jimmy’s yard that Max brushed up against her as he showed her some stretches to do before gardening, she recalled the feeling of his body next to hers. That was a delicious sensation, and something she fully intended on exploring.
Continuing to walk, and preoccupied with thoughts of getting closer to Max, she ended up in a part of the pool that quickly dipped from four to six feet.
She was trying to jump up where the air was, hoping to take a few breaths while she returned the other way. Quickly, and before panic set in, two large arms supported her as the life float was set underneath her arm pit.
It was a rescue right out of the lifeguard TV show, Babeview, which was where Max had seen the necessary rescue moves.
Isabella seemed to be breathing on her own, thank God. As Max lifted her out of the water and took her over to a patch of grass, he was surprised at her skimpy swimming apparel.
“Did you get a leg cramp or something?” he asked.
“Can’t swim, never learned, feel like a fool, don’t even ask.” She said, between gasps for air.
“I’m so glad you’re OK, I don’t know how I knew to come out here,” Max explained.
Isabella interrupted him with a sudden request, “Shut up and kiss me.”
Max, who had been dreaming of doing just that for many, many months, was happy to comply. But, he felt that he needed to make sure that he wasn’t taking advantage of the situation, or the girl. He wanted to be a t
rue gentleman.
“Are you sure?” Max started to ask.
Just as he was completing the sentence, Isabella kissed him with total abandon.
She molded herself perfectly to his contours, like they were made for each other. She started to kiss him on his neck, and then on his bare chest. She was feeling very naughty, indeed.
Her nubile, sensual form clung to him in total surrender. “Please just take me, all of me,” she implored.
At this point, Max was having a little talk with the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other.
The former was imploring him to take it slow, not to forget that she almost drowned, and to give her some time to sleep on this. The latter was thinking about the best place and the best way to give her what she wanted when she wanted it.
“Isabella,” he said, “I would like that very much. I have thought about it many times. But, your first time should be in a bed, with romantic music, candlelight, and fresh strawberries and cream. It should be with someone you really care about and want a real relationship with, and we all know what you think of me.”
Isabella had just been thoroughly kissed and was thinking that it would be nice to get back to that. She was not much in the mood for a chat.
“Shut up and kiss me,” she retorted.
Max knew that this was what she wanted, and it seemed like a great place to start, so he kissed her gladly.
As he brushed his tongue against her teeth, he heard a sensuous whimper in response. “Don’t stop!” she said, breathlessly.
He thought about how responsive she was to his kisses, and knew that they would have a great chemistry in bed. That reminded him of the bed, and he knew where he wanted this to go.
“Isabella, I want to give you some time to think about this. I am going to go back to the main house to wait for you. It will take about an hour for me to create the right atmosphere; light some candles, put some classical music on, and have a fresh fruit bowl next to the bed. Your first time deserves some scenery and some specialness. If you change your mind, I’ll understand. And, when things are going on with us, if you change your mind, just let me know. One of the advantages to my being, uh, rather experienced is that I have a lot of control over myself.” Max explained.
Isabella walked with Max to see the outside entrance to his room. She asked, “If you are so experienced, can I ask if you are also safe?”
Max looked at her and said, “I’ve been tested, if that is what you mean. And, in the last few years I have been very selective and exclusive. It was only in college that I was “Boys Gone Wild” and all. Things have really toned down for me personally, even though professionally I am hot stuff.”
“And modest, too,” she giggled.
“Isabella, right now I am very insecure. I’m not sure if it is really me that you want, or just the first available guy who can rock your world, and all. I want to know that this is what you really want. That’s why we need this time to think. I’ll respect you whatever decision you make.”
As Isabella started on the path back to the gatehouse, she wondered about the expression “the one.” Was there really a right person for everyone? How would she know that Max was “the one”? It all was so much easier when she was going to join the convent.
And that’s when they both heard a loud scream…
Afterword
This is far from being the end of Isabella and Max’s story; it is only the beginning. Their relationship continues in Prune, Plant, or Plunder: Part II - Isabella’s Petals. Coming in 2012!
Prune, Plant, or Plunder? Page 13