“Of course, this goes both ways.”
“Always,” the professor agreed. “Now, as for dressing in attire you feel less than enthused about, if it will not harm you physically, and it is done in good taste and in the privacy of your home, and is not an ongoing obsession with him, then by all means put the dress or lingerie on and give him the show and performance of his life.
“Again, I must stress, if you refuse to satisfy your man, and once too often, where is he to go to find satisfaction, and with whom? That’s a question you’d probably not want to find out. And don’t kid yourself. He could find satisfaction in the arms of your best friend. Or he could find it in the bed of a co-worker. Or, he could find it in your very own bed with a relative…your cousin or sister. So, keep your man pleased and he will not want or desire another. Make this a priority and he will not have the time or the energy to seek comfort and pleasure in another woman’s arms. Bottom line…what would it profit you to lose your man over something you could have easily done for him, if only you had taken the time and interest in doing for him?”
“So true,” Irene murmured thoughtfully. “I am so fortunate to have you professor as a source of enlightenment.”
“If enlightenment is what you seek, then enlightenment is what you will find here.”
“I will remember that,” she said, patting her mouth gingerly with the napkin. “I really enjoyed dinner. And I want to thank you for going out of your way to prepare this wonderful and tasty meal for me.”
“You are quite welcomed, star pupil,” the professor replied as he tapped the tabletop lightly with his gloved hand.
“As far as I know, I am your only pupil, am I right?” she chuckled.
The professor looked about the table and the room in jest before saying, “Well, I imagine you are.”
The two laughed. It was the first time she had ever heard him laugh and she relished it.
Settling down, she leveled her eyes on him, her expression now solemn.
“I have one or two last questions to ask, and it’s nothing personal, I promise,” she asked with a disarming smile.
“Go ahead and ask,” he said.
“If you never intended on seeing me wearing the corset and bra, and believe me, I would have had to tell myself that I was showing you far less than what I would be showing had you requested me to wear a bikini, then why that specific request?”
“Irene, the request was never about me, it was all about you,” he stressed. “More importantly, it was purely for your own edification. You are here to learn and I to teach. By your own words you said wearing those items made you feel something you had not felt before. You see, the very moment you became aware of this feeling was the moment you became liberated from that which had blinded you before.”
A slow smile spread over Irene’s face indicating that she had gotten it.
“Next question, please.”
“I was wondering why you insisted on me wearing light blue lace and undergarments and not some other color?”
“It’s quite simple, lass. Powder blue is my favorite color.”
The two burst into laughter for the second time.
“Please, after you call a taxi for me, that is, if my lesson is over with, could you do me the honor of playing that lovely tune again, the one I heard you playing upon my arrival? I just love it.”
“Since you have done extraordinarily well with your lesson this evening, I will oblige you.”
With that, he stood up and led her back into his music hall and over to the organ. After activating it, he sat down and picked up where he had left off. As he played, Irene’s heart pounded and she began to feel lightheaded and in an enchanting and exhilarating way. The man had a way of reaching one’s soul through his music and caressing it. It was a rare ability for a musician to possess.
When the taxi arrived, he escorted her to the front entrance and bade her goodnight. Watching her approach end at the door of the taxi, he waved goodbye. She waved back with a generous smile and prolonged gaze. She appeared to glow under the fluorescent sheen of the moon. Her beauty and charm; regality and sensuality, had not escaped him. She was pleasant and old-fashioned, and in an appealing way. And she had given him something he had not experienced in a long time…a good laugh.
Chapter 11
“Well niece, how did it go tonight?” Audrey queried Irene upon her arrival back home. She had been watching television stretched out on her side on the sofa. On the coffee tabletop, the last slice of cheesecake sat on a small saucer half eaten.
“Oh, everything was just wonderful,” Irene answered beaming.
“I wasn’t expecting you back for another two hours,” she said rising up from the sofa. “Where did you two go for dinner?”
“He had already prepared dinner for me,” Irene replied. “We had roasted pheasant and two spectacular side dishes.”
“O-kaay,” Audrey responded drawing out the kay part of okay.
“I wished you could have been there for dinner, auntie.”
“I might have been had I known where he lived.”
“He lives close to the town of Wayne Brier.”
“Did you remember to find out his last name?”
“Oh my, I forgot to ask,” Irene said, unconvincingly, as she took a seat across from her aunt.
“And did Mr. Maurice approve of your appearance?”
“Yes, very much so. He said I looked stunning,” Irene replied crossing her arms at the wrists near her knees, which were crossed as well.
“And how dashing did your date look tonight? And don’t leave anything out.” Audrey said, pressing for specifics before adding, “Come to think of it, I haven’t a clue what Maurice looks like. So, what does he look like? Is he tall, short, handsome, perhaps even sexy looking like Tony Curtis?”
Caught off guard by her aunt’s unexpected questioning, and this particular question, she nearly panic for she had not prepared herself to be interrogated and to this degree. Sure, she knew that her aunt would be a tab curious but never did she expect an inquest. She had to think and think fast. The truth was that aside from the mysterious veil he wore over his head, she had no clue what the professor looked like.
“He’s just an average looking person, nothing to really gloat over,” Irene finally said. It was the best she could come up with.
Audrey raised an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me that you got all decked out, and your hair done for a man that is just your average looking person?”
“Auntie, we’re just friends, and besides, he asked me to wear something formal,” Irene explained. “Honestly, he’s really a very good friend. Besides, looks isn’t everything when it comes to friendship, not with me.”
“Honey, I’m just teasing you,” Audrey said walking over to where her niece sat and giving her a hug as Irene reciprocated. “But I still would like to meet this average looking Prince Charming someday.”
The two chuckled.
Though she had put on a good face, inside, Irene knew that her aunt’s sudden interest in meeting the professor was going to present some very unique situations if she did not move fast enough on unveiling the mystery behind the professor’s haunting attire and catching a glimpse of what he looked like. No matter how gruesome or hideous he might look once unveiled, she would have to find a way to convince him that he could still count on her being his friend and star pupil. If there was any lesson she could teach him it would be trust.
Morris arrived at Irene’s aunt’s place promptly, just as he promised he would, at 6:30pm the following evening. He had invited her out to dinner when they last spoke. If he was bowled over with her looks before, he was completely knocked out by her new look. The hair, the skirt and blouse, the earrings, the stockings, and shoes, all accentuated her hour-glass figure. It was a figure that before recently only allude to what he was now a witness to. He was beyond impressed. Though his eyes said it all, the words still followed.
“Wow! God save the Queen…Irene, you look a
bsolutely stunning and-and to the point I-I don’t know what else to say,” he managed to say in one breath. “I’m actually lost for words.”
“Why thank you Morris,” she replied and graciously.
Then it dawned on him. In his exuberance he had failed to measure his statement’s possible ramifications outside of what he actually meant. It was time for damage control.
“Look, Irene, I didn’t mean to imply that you looked less than beautiful before now, it’s just that you have taken your beauty to a stunning new level,” he pleaded his case. “And frankly, I am happy that you did.”
“It’s all right, Morris,” she assured him calmly. “There’s no need for you to apologize. I knew all along what you meant.”
“Great. Look, what do you say we head out now?”
“Let me grab an umbrella, first,” she said. It was raining outside.
“Ready now?” he asked opening the front door.
With a gentle smile she nodded.
Holding the umbrella over her protectively, he escorted her to the car he had borrowed.
“When are you going to get your own car?” she asked with a chuckle. “This is the third car I’ve been in with you that is owned by someone else.”
“I’m saving up for one now,” he replied. “A few more paychecks and I should have enough money to buy one.”
“You have any particular car in mind?”
“I want a Porsche but at this stage of the game I need something I can afford and is reliable.”
“I am sure whatever you decide on will be a beauty.”
Morris nodded in agreement but thought, yeah, a beauty just like you. Morris still found it hard to get over her transformation. Man, I’m the luckiest guy in the world tonight, he told himself. And to think that she did all of this for me, he added.
The two drove off, the windshield wipers waltzing in unison.
Once they staked out a booth, Irene walked over to the jukebox to make a few selections. Two were favorite Motown hits and one from the new and exciting English group who called themselves the Beatles. The song she selected by them was Girl. She returned to the booth where Morris sat awaiting their food order.
“This seems to be a pretty popular restaurant,” she said, her eyes gazing about the area.
“It certainly is, especially when someone as lovely as yourself shows up to eat,” he said. At that moment his expression grew serious.
When her eyes met his she knew instinctively what was on his mind.
“Irene, I can’t keep this in any longer –” he began.
“Morris –” she said abruptly but softly, tenderly.
“Please, Irene…I have to get this off of my bloody chest,” he broke in, reclaiming the initiative. “I think the world of you and simply put, I’m crazy about you. I mean a whole lot.”
“I know Morris,” she said feeling great empathy for him. “But put yourself in my place. I’m from a different world and culture thousands of miles away or however many kilometers it is, and on top of that, I’m here on a visit and with every intention of returning to my hometown when my visit here is over. You are accustomed to driving on the opposite side of the road of what I am accustomed to, that’s how distinct our cultural differences are. Now, would it make sense for me to fall in love, knowing what I just mentioned about my circumstance?”
Morris shrugged. “Your aunt was able to adapt, am I not right about that?”
“My aunt was already married when she arrived here to work.”
“True to words,” he acknowledged. “But she fell out of love while she was here as well.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that if a person can adapt to the culture and fall out of love, one can safely assume that a person can fall in love as well, and then adapt to the culture.”
“I follow your logic Morris but you are forgetting one important thing.”
“What’s that, lass?”
“My aunt was in love with her husband before she moved here and things soured and they divorced. I am just not at that emotional level with you,” she explained as delicately as she could. “Look Morris, you’re a fantastic guy. And a better friend I could not find or ask for. And yes, I really am attracted to you…it’s just not in a romantic way. Please try to understand that.”
“Then why did you get yourself all spiffy looking, if not for me?” he retorted, hurt evident in his voice and tone. Then, as an afterthought, his eyes widen. “I see now, there must be someone else you did it for, Irene…am I right?”
At that moment, the waitress arrived with their platters and drinks.
“Morris,” she began after the waitress whirled off. “Whether I did this for me or someone else isn’t the point. It doesn’t change what I said about my feelings. I really treasure your friendship and I enjoy going out with you. I would not think of doing anything to jeopardize what we have cultivated. But I need to know if we are going to be able to get beyond this and continue being the best of friends?”
Down emotionally but not out, Morris decided to capitulate for now. Outwardly, he put on a brave face and said with a forced smile, “We can get beyond this but only if you allow me to pay for your meal, Irene,” but inside felt as if his entire world had collapsed. With his gaze fixed on her, he picked up his glass and took a sip of cola while she seemed to contemplate his offer. The flavor, his favorite, was less than agreeable to him this evening. So was the rejection she had given him to swallow.
“Sure, Morris, I’ll let you pay for my meal this one time,” she decided as she offered him an empathetic gaze that put him more at ease.
“Good, then let’s eat,” he said lowering his head and gazing down at his plate.
Irene ate but the conversation they had had dampened her enjoyment of it.
Morris picked at his food but did little eating. Reaching over with her arm, she lifted his chin up and encouraged him to eat his food. In an effort to take his mind off of her she decided it was time for a change of subject matters.
“Morris, have you ever heard of the Seabreeze residence, just south of Wayne Brier?” she asked as she placed a savory piece of grilled salmon in her mouth and chewed on it.
“By George, who within fifty kilometers of the place has not heard of it,” he railed, perking up for the first time in minutes. “Why do you ask?”
“Was just wondering,” she replied, pausing momentarily to swallow her food. “I’m making sort of a diary of my travels and I thought I’d add some of the local folklore to it.”
“Well, you best forget about that creepy place, I venture to say,” he said, his eyes transfixed on hers. “Folklore or not, you don’t want nothing to do with that place, in person or in writing.”
“Why? What can you tell me about it?”
“I can tell you to drop the subject altogether, but I know you’ll only insist that I tell you.”
“So, tell me.”
“The place is haunted, I say,” he said after a sigh. “On top of that, no one has ever seen the old man or knows what he looks like. They say his face was all torn apart by angry vampire bats. They say that is why he hides inside during the day and comes out only at night. That is so no one can see his face. They say he has body parts buried up there on the grounds somewhere and that he drinks the blood of young virgins.”
“And you believe all of that?”
“I certainly do. Besides, I ventured up there one night myself about eight years ago with two mates of mine. Was much younger then and much more foolish.”
“You actually went on the property?”
“That’s exactly what I am saying and after it was all said and done with, I barely got away from there with my life.”
“Wow. So, tell me, what happened that night?”
“You sure you want to hear about it?”
“Come on and stop stalling,” she said grabbing his arm and shaking it playfully.
“We were just out for a little fun and adventure, the three of us, and we
had all been curious about the Seabreeze residence. Had been for years. Now, before that night, neither one of us had the courage to venture up there alone but together we found the bloody courage.”
“Go on,” she urged him as she took another bite of her salmon.
“It was about to storm that night, I remember it like it was just yesterday. And it was lightening something fierce overhead in the skies. It’s always lightening over that place.”
Irene could not argue with that point.
“Well, the closer we got to the house; we could hear music coming from inside of the place. It was like an orchestra in there playing but unlike what you would hear with an orchestra; this music was of the Devil himself, I say…haunting. Still, we forged ahead, and in spite of that God awful music, until we made it around to the back of the place. We were snooping around the joint when we suddenly heard the mad barking of a dog, though it sounded more like an angry wolf.
“When we finally saw the beast running towards us, it was indeed a wolf, or as big as one. In our attempt to escape its jaws, we tripped over outdoor furniture and other objects in the darkness trying our best to get the hell out of there. It was when we rounded the corner of the house, that we ran smack into him…the devil himself, I say.”
“Who?”
“Old man Seabreeze, that’s who!” Morris exclaimed. “I tell you, it was horrible. He had a silvery looking face and hands the size of Texas. And they were hairy hands. I’m tell’n you, between him and the wolf, I nearly had a heart attack. Hell, one my mates actually wet his pants.”
A Gothic Lesson in Love Page 10