by Callie Norse
This took Greg and the others off guard. Greg wiped tears away. Steve wondered if it had been a mistake to mention Lisa. He began carving the turkey and dishing out portions, as he passed the plates down. The other dishes were then passed, as they began the meal in silence, all thinking of Lisa.
Maggie broke the silence. “Does Tinker Bell get some?”
“We’ll see to her later,” chuckled Lori.
The day went well—much better than any of them thought it would, although Lisa’s absence was obvious. Having Marta there and the new little puppy seemed to help. Greg said no more to Steve about the mysterious happenings, as they weren’t alone much. Maggie was in and out with the puppy. It was good to see her having so much fun. Her smiles and giggles were good for all.
Greg, Marta, and Maggie left early evening. After the short drive home, Maggie again went to the sewing room where she sat in the rocking chair, giggling, reading, and singing. Marta, puzzled, stood out of Maggie’s sight and watched her for sometime. How could she be so happy, never seeming to miss her mommy? They had been so close. Greg had no answers, either. It was difficult to understand. As long as she was happy, there seemed to be no need for a counselor.
After they tucked Maggie into bed, they walked down the hall toward the sitting room to make sure all looked okay. Greg pulled on the padlock to make sure it was locked tightly. It didn’t budge. Marta wanted to go through more of the old boxes up in the mansard, but they both thought it was best not to go up there after dark, especially with Maggie in the house. They went into the guest room to take a peek at the newly hung picture. It was fine—no tears. It did rather dampen the feeling one used to have when entering the room.
They walked down the back staircase, knowing the baby monitor was on in Maggie’s room, with the receiver in the parlor. They sat on the sofa, in front of the fireplace, talking about this, that, and everything. Again, Marta expressed her desire to search through more boxes on the third floor. Greg agreed to her coming over the next morning. Maggie was to spend the day with one of her little friends while on Thanksgiving break from school.
Greg had intended to slow things down with Marta. He still felt the timing of what happened was not good. As they sat close, with his arm around her, his hormones began to think differently. Once his lips met hers, the fire was lit. There was no stopping for either of them. They had already had a taste of the forbidden fruit. Quickly, they undressed one another, leaving only their sexy underwear. He cupped his hand between her thighs. Thoughts and feelings raced. Their under garments, which had been tossed in the air, were soon hanging from the furniture. His passionate tongue and clever fingers drove her up another notch. She thrust herself toward him, almost out of control. She grabbed his hard shaft begging—shocking Greg, as he hadn’t known this side of her. As he thrust himself deep inside her, she gasped, following with quiet moans. Seeing her like this was such a turn on for him. Things became quite intense—perhaps wild. Greg was quickly learning to like this wild side of Marta, although it didn’t last long. They lay in the arms of one another, not caring what the rest of the world would think, if they knew.
“This is slowing things down?” Greg thought to himself. He didn’t approve, but oh, how he enjoyed!
Eventually, they dozed off.
They were awakened by the cry of a baby that seemed to be coming through the baby monitor. Greg hurriedly put on his shorts, grabbed the receiver, and ran upstairs to Maggie’s room. By the time he got to the head of the stairs, the cries had stopped. Of course there was no baby to be seen. There never was. In fact, everything looked quite normal upstairs. Maggie was sound asleep. Greg started down the spiral staircase and met Marta half way down. By now, she was fully dressed, much to Greg’s disappointment.
“Marta, let’s go back to the parlor,” he whispered.
He threw some pillows on the floor in front of the fireplace, stretched out, and invited Marta to join him. As she lay in his arms, it suddenly occurred to him, “Marta, I never stopped to think when we put Maggie to bed, that I wouldn’t be able to take you home. I picked you up this morning, remember?”
“I wasn’t thinking either.”
“You know, with Maggie in the house, we have to be careful…morals, you know.”
“I agree, Greg. We don’t want Maggie growing up thinking it’s okay to sleep with someone before marriage. Besides that, how could we expect her to understand what we are doing, when we don’t understand it ourselves?”
He drew her closer. “Marta, I think Lisa understands…if I could just get myself to understand. I hadn’t planned on this happening again tonight. Once I got close to you, I couldn’t help myself. Lisa left a letter for me to read after she died. In it, she told me to move on. She told me not to grieve for long, as life is too short. She also told me there is no set time that I must be alone before I begin to see another. She didn’t want me to worry about what others think. So, I have decided not to think about others and what they might think. This is between you, me, and Maggie.” He then gave her a sweet gentle kiss. “Marta, do you really want to sleep in all those clothes? Is it okay with you if we sleep down here, or would you rather sleep in the guest room?”
“I hope you are joking! No way am I sleeping in that room with the crying picture. No way!”
“Maybe we should retire that portrait to the mansard. What do you think?” Greg asked.
“Well, are you trying to get out of sleeping beside me the next time I stay? This is where I would choose regardless of where the picture was.” She snuggled up closer to Greg.
“I really hate to move an inch now, but the hall closet has a blanket and some bed pillows. I’ll be right back.”
For a second, Greg thought he saw a flash of light moving toward the kitchen, at the other end of the hall. He convinced himself it was a reflection of some sort from a streetlight outside the window.
When he returned to Marta, she was in her bra and panties. How gorgeous she looked, lying there on her back in a deep purple satin bra and matching bikini panties. He lay down beside her, placed the blanket over them, and put his arm around her. She kissed him. He returned the kiss and desires again arose. They were soon rolling on the floor kissing, touching, tasting, and…making love?
They slept skin-to-skin until early morning when Greg awoke. “Marta, sweetie, time to wake up and get some clothes on before Maggie wakes up. Would you like to shower?”
“That would be nice, but I hate to put the same clothes back on. They are a little too dressy for going to the third floor to scrounge around.”
“Marta, Lisa’s clothes are still upstairs. You are close to her size. I’m sure you can find some jeans and a sweatshirt or something. Would you mind wearing her clothes? I know Lisa would love for you to.”
“If you’re sure it’s okay. It will seem a little strange, although I do need some different clothes.”
Greg escorted her upstairs and waited his turn in the bedroom, while she showered. He heard her let out a scream, as she jumped out of the shower and into the bedroom. “That water almost scalded me! I kept turning it to colder, and it kept getting hotter.”
“Oh, Marta, I’m so sorry. “Are you okay?”
“I think so. Do you see any burns on me?”
“Well, ah…I don’t think so. Turn around and let me see.” She turned a 360. “I think you are okay, but…” He reached over and put his hand between her legs, at the y. “Does this feel burned?”
“Greg! Shame on you!” she teased, as she slapped his hand away.
“Go dry off and find some clothes before it’s too late.”
Marta grabbed a towel and proceeded to dry herself off while Greg checked the shower out. The water seemed fine. He threw his shorts at Marta and jumped in. He could hear her laughter as he got under the shower and lathered up. Just as he was ready to rinse off, the water began getting extremely hot. Greg stuck with it, convinced there was nothing wrong with it. He quickly became sure he was wrong. He, too, ha
d to jump out, almost knocking Marta off her feet.
“Greg, you are red as a beet! You look like you might be burned. You need to get some lotion on your skin to cool it down. Do you have any aloe vera lotion?”
Greg reached into the medicine cabinet. “Right here, baby.”
“Go lie on the bed, and I’ll rub it on you.”
“You sure that’s safe, sweetie?”
Marta pulled the spread and covers back, so she wouldn’t get lotion on them. Greg lay down. Marta, still nude, began to rub the lotion on his body. She momentarily stopped, walked over to the door, closed it tightly, and locked it so Maggie wouldn’t walk in if she woke up.
“Good idea, hon.” Greg’s eyes were on her fabulous body as she walked to the bedroom door, and back to him.
Marta again squeezed some lotion onto her hand and began applying it to Greg’s handsome, muscular body. She hadn’t taken such notice before; now that she had him totally naked lying there in front of her, she was noticing he was much more muscular than she had ever known. She smiled at the thought that she probably was always too horny to notice before. She loved his broad shoulders and his handsomely developed pectoral muscles. He worked out often at the gym the law firm provided for the employees. His chest was moderately hairy; this, to her, was quite sexy. As she rubbed the lotion in, the once curly brown hairs succumbed to the lotion.
“Can you spread your legs for me?” Marta asked.
“Can I? Gladly sweetie. Sounds like something I might ask of you,” he chuckled.
She rubbed some lotion on his tight, partially hairy, thighs and continued on down to his feet. She pretended not to notice his manhood was thickening, although she, too, was beginning to have desires. Greg already knew that, as when she got up to lock the door, he noticed her nipples had begun to respond.
Eventually, desires took over. She climbed on and began to ride him. He was so slick with lotion it was difficult to stay on his hips. She leaned forward, greasing her breasts with lotion, as her exuberant breasts slapped against his chest. Their lips met, in a moist, intimate kiss. Their bond was growing much stronger. She sat up straight and rode him hard, until they were moaning— quietly, so Maggie wouldn’t hear. Marta fell limp against his slick body. Together, they began to laugh. She now had more lotion on her than he did. They got up and began wiping each other off with towels, laughing, knowing it wouldn’t take much to wind up back in bed.
They became more serious when Greg opened a drawer and showed Marta where to find Lisa’s clothes. This had broken the mood. Marta chose some appropriate clothes and put them on. She wore her own bra, as Lisa’s was a smaller cup. She didn’t feel right about wearing Lisa’s panties, but she wanted to smell clean.
Greg dressed in blue jeans and a sweatshirt and started toward Maggie’s bedroom to check on her. Marta stopped him long enough to give him a gentle kiss. “Thanks Greg, for everything.” He smiled and went on to check on Maggie. Actually, he needed a moment to pull himself together after seeing Marta in Lisa’s clothes. Maggie was still fast asleep. He and Marta went down the back stairs to the kitchen to start breakfast.
“I really must get a plumber to check on that shower. It happened to me last week, too. I checked it out and couldn’t find anything wrong. It had been fine since then. Now, I’ll have someone come look at it. You must admit, some good did come out of the problem today.” He smiled at Marta and began making coffee. “So, what would you like for breakfast? Omelet or waffles?”
“Omelet sounds good to me. What kind do you make?”
“Usually bacon and cheese. I can add green pepper and onion too, if you would like. I have found many short cuts, frozen foods and bacon already prepared, even bacon bits in a pinch.”
“Sounds like you are becoming quite the chef since…” Her voice trailed off, not wanting to mention Lisa’s name. “Bacon and cheese sounds fine to me.”
Maggie came down all dressed, as Greg was dishing up the omelets, which looked more like scrambled eggs to Marta. She kept quiet on this one. Greg really was doing well.
“I took a shower, exclaimed Maggie. I hope it’s okay with you that I used your shower. I love that fancy room.
Greg and Marta’s mouths both dropped open. “Did that go okay?” Greg asked.
“Sure, I think I got clean.”
“Was the water warm enough?” Greg asked so as not to scare her.
“It was okay. It was a little cool. Who used up all the hot water, anyway?”
“Marta spent the night, and we both had showers this morning.”
“Ohh?” Maggie looked puzzled.
Greg hadn’t stopped to think Maggie might use the master bath shower this morning without saying anything. She ordinarily used the main bath.
“So you are all nice and clean now to go with your little friend.”
“Daddy, did you forget again? Her name is Kaitlyn.”
“No, honey. I didn’t forget again. I was just teasing you.”
As Greg and Marta were doing the dishes, Kaitlyn and her mom came to the door. Maggie was in the sewing room. Marta went to tell her they were there. She heard Maggie say, “Bye, bye, be back soon.”
Marta wondered who she was telling good-bye. More than likely, it was an imaginary friend. Maggie kissed Greg good-bye and was out the door in a flash. Marta wondered if it was her imagination, or had she gotten a strange look from Kaitlyn’s mom? She refused to let it bother her.
“Greg, are you ready for our fun in the mansard now?” Marta asked.
“Fun? I don’t know if I would classify opening that stair door fun, after what we have seen!”
“I know. I feel the same way. It does scare me some. I refuse to let it keep me out of the mansard. There are too many old treasures up there to let them stay there and rot without us enjoying them.”
“You win, I guess.” Greg put the last dish in the cupboard and turned to give Marta a kiss. “I love those soft, sweet lips of yours. Let’s go.”
*****
Greg took the key from his pocket and unlocked the new lock. The door was open only a crack when the stench hit them. “God, no! Not again! I’m calling Steve!” The dreaded red stuff was back, covering more of the stairs than before. He slammed the door shut and locked it. He and Marta went downstairs to the parlor to make the call to Steve.
“I’ll be there in a flash,” Steve told Greg.
And he was! Greg couldn’t believe how quickly he got there— a large flashlight in hand.
“Lead the way! This I have got to see!” Steve requested.
They led him up the back stairway. Greg quickly turned the key in the lock and opened the door.
Steve jumped back. “God—the smell! It smells like rotten bodies!”
“Yes, it’s quite bad, isn’t it?” Greg agreed.
Steve stepped forward for a look. There on the stairs was the blood-like substance dripping down the stairs in massive amounts. He ran his finger across it and rubbed them together. “Feels like blood.”
“Yes, I know it does, so much like it that it’s eerie,” Greg commented.
“What the hell do you suppose it is?” Steve asked.
“That’s what you are supposed to be helping me figure out!” Greg exclaimed.
“You say this same stuff was in the back hall and in the carriage house?”
“It sure was.”
“How long since you have checked out there?” Steve asked.
“It’s been awhile. I’ve been leaving my Tahoe out, so I don’t have to go in there. It’s far too eerie to go in there every time I need to use the Tahoe.”
“Let’s go out there now. I want to see if the stuff has come back,” Steve suggested.
“Okay…for you, I will do it. It won’t be so bad in the daylight. Not so sure I would be so agreeable after dark. That carriage house has a feel about it, even without the red substance. I may have to tear it down. I really hate to do that, as Lisa loved it so. She thought it suited the house. She never knew abo
ut the damn red stuff!”
Marta didn’t want to go with the guys. Then again, there was no way she wanted to stay in the house by herself, so she followed. A chill came over her as they neared the carriage house. Little did she know that Greg also felt the eeriness. He had learned to hate this building. As he unlatched the door, he knew by the stench the substance was back. He pulled the door open to find the red substance was now in the carriage room, which he used as a garage. Steve’s mouth dropped open. Greg slammed the door shut. Marta clung to him tightly.
“There is a back door. Let’s go around to the old stable and see if we can get in that way without walking through this shit,” Greg said in disgust. The others followed, standing back as Greg opened the door, “Jesus Christ, it’s everywhere!”
Steve was certainly getting his chance to view the crimson substance. Marta clung tighter to Greg. She was shaking inside, hoping it didn’t show. There wasn’t a spot on the floor that wasn’t covered. The trap door was closed, with massive amounts oozing through the cracks. They could well see that the entire carriage house was taken over by the red stuff.
“Just let it rot in the stuff!” Greg motioned for the others to move back, slammed the door, and started walking toward the house—when the sky darkened. Thunder clapped. It began to look like midnight, instead of morning. Horrendous lightning was flashing everywhere, like none they had ever seen. They ran to the house, as frightened as three small children about to be captured by a monster in a horror film.
No one spoke for twenty minutes, while they sat at the kitchen table. Steve began to look puzzled, “Notice anything strange about this storm?”
Greg thought for a bit, “It certainly is severe. Is that what you mean?”
“No, there is not a drop of rain. Besides that…this is late November. It’s too cold for a thunderstorm,” Steve explained.
“This is certainly something to think about. Perhaps this is one to be added to the list of mysteries,” Greg replied.
