by Lexi Post
Chapter Seven
A few minutes late as usual, Bea waited in the lobby of the Evergreen Retirement Community. She could blame her tardiness on the hotel shuttle driver, but that wouldn’t be fair. Besides, her grandmother would make her sit for several minutes before calling her up to the apartment no matter what the reason. Grandma Beatrice was seventy-six and believed tardiness was a lack of respect, so Bea’s constant lateness bothered her namesake.
The receptionist broke into Bea’s musings. “You can go up now, Ms. Rappaccini.”
Bea took the elevator to the third floor of the nicely appointed building and knocked on the door sporting a stained-glass sign that read Beatrice Rappaccini.
That very lady opened the door and gave her a warm hug. “Ah, my Bea, come on in, sweetie. Sit. Sit. I’ll make us some tea and we can have these lovely Girl Scout cookies I bought from Mrs. Giuseppe’s granddaughter.”
Bea followed her dainty grandmother to the small kitchen table. “I didn’t have a chance to order any this year. Did you buy any Trefoils or Thin Mints?”
The older woman placed her hands on her hips. “Of course. Why buy Girls Scout cookies if not to get at least those two?”
Bea waited as her grandmother set the teapot on the stove and pulled teacups from the cabinet. Grandma Beatrice was a small woman with long white hair caught back in a bun, but her eyes always twinkled with amusement, sometimes at herself and sometimes at others.
“Here you go, dear. Have as many as you want. I bought a dozen boxes.”
Bea widened her eyes as she pulled the Thin Mints toward her. “Really? Are you trying to gain weight?”
Her grandmother looked over her shoulder. “Don’t get sassy with me, now. I bought them so I had something for my company.”
Bea smirked. “So, who is he this week, Gram?”
Grandma poured the water into the cups and brought them to the table. She winked at Bea. “His name is Randal, but I like to call him Randy, if you know what I mean.”
Bea’s spoon clattered back into the sugar bowl. “Grandma.”
Grandma sat and reached for the Trefoils. “Honey, I’m old. I’m not dead.”
Bea chuckled and took a sip of warm, sweet tea.
After her grandmother added cream and sugar in her own, she dunked a cookie. “So, honey, what’s the matter?”
Her grandmother knew how to get to the point. Okay, so could she. “I think I’ve found Mr. Right.”
Grandma stopped in mid-chew and swallowed. “Bea, really?”
“I think so, but I’m so afraid I’ll hurt him. I realized this morning that I have no idea how much is too much for a man to take. I’ve never been around them after… Uh, you know.”
Grandma nodded. “After sex? Yes, unfortunately, it’s different for different men. I had one man who could make love with me twice a week and not feel bad at all, but I also had another who became ill after just one time.”
Bea’s hopes dwindled. “How do they get sick? Do they vomit, have headaches, pass out? I have no idea what to expect for Zach.”
Chewing her cookie, her grandma thought for a moment. “It’s a lot like a virus with cramping, sometimes vomiting, generally diarrhea and often a headache. Those who are sensitive pass out. I think your first boyfriend did that, didn’t he?”
“Yes, we were teenagers and Mom hadn’t told me, so we had sex every chance we could for a week. He went into a coma.”
Grandma Beatrice patted her hand. “Yes, I remember. Your mother should have told you as soon as you started your monthly cycles.”
Bea sighed. “So, I guess what you’re saying is, I have to experiment. I was hoping for something a little more definitive.”
Grandma shook her head. “Honey, even if I could tell you exactly how a man could handle it, each of our generations is different. My experience is based on a higher level of poison in my system than you have in yours.”
“I know. And mom has less than you. She keeps reminding me of how little poison I have. Sometimes she gives me the shivers. Sorry, Gram, but it’s as if she has me in a competition and she’ll do anything to see me married in order for her to win. I already know I’ve disappointed her by not having a child yet.”
Grandma pointed her finger. “You listen carefully, child. Though she is my daughter, your mother has a tendency to get her priorities mixed up but it’s not her fault, it’s her genes. And she’s not the first in our line to have moral issues.”
Bea set down her teacup. “Wait a minute, what do you mean?”
Grandma dunked another cookie in her tea and let it melt in her mouth before answering. “I wasn’t sure you noticed, so I didn’t say anything before, but now that your instincts have kicked in, you need to know the truth.”
Oh boy, this didn’t sound good. “What?”
Her grandmother leaned forward. “Just as every other generation of Rappaccini daughters is named Beatrice and the others after a flower, those with flower names have inherited a bit of Giacomo’s insanity.”
Bea’s Thin Mint broke. Did that mean if she had a child, the child would be odd and have moral issues? Her dreams crumbled like her cookie. “Are you sure? Is this an actual fact?”
Grandma shrugged. “It’s a genetic phenomenon. But just as Giacomo’s flowers were deadly poisonous, so too are the flower children a bit off.” Her grandmother tilted her head to the side to punctuate her point. “But like us, each generation gets closer to being normal. Your mom was the best of all of them, but you need to be wary.”
Bea shook her head, unable to accept the new information. “Mom may be a little strange, but don’t you think calling her insane a bit overboard?”
Grandmother Beatrice sat back and pierced Bea with her stare. “No, it’s not. When the original Beatrice died, her father Giacomo hated all men. Lily, Beatrice’s daughter, slowly poisoned her own mate with Giacomo’s help. But then Giacomo died and Lily’s daughter Beatrice died young, after giving birth to Violet, the Black Widow. As a paid whore, she had sex with men until they died. My grandmother Beatrice tried to raise my mother Rose with a full understanding of our situation, but my mother fell in with the wrong crowd and became a pinup girl. Like Giacomo’s flowers, she was beautiful, but deadly. When the artist she posed for was discovered dead, they charged her with murder. She died in jail as you know. They said she poisoned herself, but without multiple men to release her toxins, she couldn’t survive.”
Despite her dashed dreams, Bea noticed the flicker of pain that crossed her grandmother’s face. Quickly, she rose and sat next to her. “I’m so sorry. I always thought Great-grandma Rose had an exciting life.”
Grandma Beatrice tried to smile, but didn’t quite make it. “My mother tried not to kill anyone, but the more popular she became, the more popular she needed to be. Sleeping with the artist set was an easy way for her to be liked. Her need was too great, and they were a dangerous crowd. She always felt unworthy and cursed.”
Bea mumbled, “We are cursed.”
Her grandmother’s hand shot out and grabbed her chin. “No, child. We are not cursed. We are blessed. We have survived from generation to generation, bringing forth one daughter to carry on, and soon, the poisons will be gone. I hope to see a great-granddaughter from you.”
Grandma let Bea’s chin go and squeezed her hand. “If you do, I will be the first of our line to experience such happiness. We must focus on what we have gained, our small triumphs, not on a past we cannot change.”
Her grandmother patted her cheek and rose. “I think I need another cup of tea. How about you?”
Bea glanced at the clock. She should be back at work, but this was far too important. She nodded. “That sounds perfect.”
As her grandmother put the water on to boil, Bea wandered around the small one-bedroom living area. She found the picture she remembered in a pewter frame. Her great-grandmother Rose stood next to a Bentley of the period with Grandma Beatrice as a teenager. They could have passed for sisters. Next to th
at photo stood a picture of Grandma with Mom. Mom wore a mini-dress and white knee-high Go-Go boots at the age of five. Bea had always liked the cute picture, but it took on more meaning now. Actually, the whole hippie lifestyle finally made sense. Her mom could function best within that culture.
“Come over and make your tea, honey.” Grandma motioned to the table.
Bea sat and took her tea bag from the darkened water. “So where does Mom fit in with all this?”
Grandma looked tired. “Your mom has tried very hard to do what is right, but her nature makes it hard. The sixties came at the perfect time for me. It made it easy to hide my many partners under the spirit of free love. Your mom resented that. She became a self-proclaimed hippie long after we had melded back into society. Luckily, there were other hangers-on. It has worked well for her.”
Grandma sipped her tea. Then she wrapped up the cookies and stuffed them back in their box. “Susan has her good qualities, which is more than I can say for Lily or Violet. But there is a selfish streak in her. She wants to see you married. She wants to be the one to have the daughter who broke the mold and nabbed the first husband. It’s not so bad, but she’ll do anything to make that happen.”
Realization struck and Bea shivered. “No wonder she lost it when I said I was going to try in vitro fertilization. It’s not about my having a child. She wants me married.”
Grandma nodded. “Yes. She called me the day you told her that, ranting and raving ’til I couldn’t understand what she said. She hung up and I began to worry. I thought I would hear from you sooner rather than later, but never expected to hear such wonderful news.”
Bea smiled. She couldn’t help it. When she thought of Zach, her whole family history of craziness and poison dimmed. “Oh, Grandma, he is special.”
Her grandmother took another sip of tea. “Special is good. So, is he well-hung?”
“Grandma!”
* * * * *
Bea rubbed her eyes. The liquor inventory didn’t add up. She needed it to balance before she left for the day, but it was almost seven and Zach would be hungry by now. Maybe she should go.
Kayla walked in. “You still here?”
Bea shook her head. “No, I’m just a figment of your imagination.”
Grinning, Kayla leaned against the wall. “Well, get out of my imagination. I have better things to think about, like going home. I’m off tomorrow and I plan on sleeping most of the day away.”
“That sounds great. I have to work.”
Kayla sauntered over to the desk. “I almost forgot. While you were at lunch, this came for you.”
Bea looked at the envelope with “To Bea Rappaccini” typed across the outside. She shivered. “Where did you get this?”
Kayla’s brow furrowed. “It was left at the front desk. I’m not sure who dropped it off because I was busy with a shuttle of check-ins. Why? What’s wrong?”
Bea shook her head. “Nothing, I guess. But personally delivered mail isn’t exactly a common occurrence.”
Kayla leaned on the desk. “Well, open it up. See if it’s anything important.”
Bea hesitated, but she needed to know. She sliced the envelope with the letter opener and took out a single piece of paper. It had one line.
Are you going to kill him?
Bea crumpled the paper in her grip as her stomached followed suit and her breath lodged in her throat. The letter writer knew about her and Zach. She took a furtive glance around the room, as if she might spot someone watching her.
Kayla tried to sneak a peek. “What’s it say?”
Bea stuffed the letter into her purse. “Not much and it isn’t signed.”
Kayla stood back. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
Bea sighed. “No, not yet. This is the second one of these I’ve received. They’re strange. Do me a favor, if another one comes, look to see who drops it off, okay?”
“Sure. But do you need to call the cops? Are they threatening?”
Bea thought of Chris. Maybe she should ask for his help on this, at least with the first one. “Not really. It could be just a friend playing games. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”
Kayla turned away. “Okay, okay, I can take a hint. I’m out of here anyway. See you on Tuesday.”
Bea nodded as Kayla disappeared around the corner. Someone knew. There was no other explanation. Someone knew about her poisons and the threat they posed to Zach. Oh God, Zach.
Springing from the chair, she grabbed her coat and headed out the door. She had to see him, make sure he felt better. The inventory could wait.
The cold temperature outside brought her up short. Oh damn. She didn’t have her car. Running down the hill as best she could in heels, she pulled her gloves on, her fast breaths making patches of moisture in the air. Would it ever be spring? At this rate, Zach would have the carving done long before the ice melted on the lake. At least he would if she could leave him alone to work on it.
She took the stairs two at a time. When she reached the second floor, she put the key into her door and turned the knob.
“Hi, beautiful.”
Her breath caught at the sound of his low voice, but her heart almost stopped at the sight of him. He had a significant shadow on his chin from a lack of shaving and the color had returned to his face.
Zach stepped up to her and cupped her frozen cheeks in his hands. His grin faded. “You’re too cold. You should have called me. Now I need to warm you up.”
Bea didn’t have a chance to disagree as his lips descended on hers. Her purse dropped to the floor and she leaned her body into his. Insulated by the layers of clothes between them, she groaned with frustration.
He stepped back. “Hungry?”
“For you.”
He cleared his throat. “The feeling is mutual, but unfortunately, I emptied my stomach here today. It’s not going to let me go with missing another meal.”
She unbuttoned her coat. “I’ll get started on some dinner right away.”
His hands enveloped hers. “No, I have a better idea. Let’s get your car first because I don’t want you walking in this weather again. Then we’ll go to my house. We’ll pick up a pizza on the way. I want you in my bed tonight.”
Her fingers under his hand burned hot at his blatant need. She nodded. “Okay.”
He smiled before he kissed her nose. “I knew I liked you.”
* * * * *
Zach finished his beer and gazed at Bea as she sat back against the couch cushions, a speck of pizza sauce on the corner of her mouth. He leaned over and licked it away.
She moved her mouth to meet his and he parted her lips with his tongue. Now that his stomach was happy, his cock was jealous. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, enjoying her spicy taste combining with his own. He pulled away.
“Oh.” She pouted.
Her lips in that position had him fighting not to kiss her again, but he had other plans. “Tell me, Bea. Have you ever had sex in a hot tub?”
She didn’t move except for a slight tightening of her crossed legs. He made a mental note. Knowing what he wanted to do to her made her hot. He’d have to remember that.
She looked away toward the fireplace. “No, I haven’t. That sounds a little kinky.”
He grinned. “Don’t you like kinky? After seeing the toys in your nightstand drawer, I thought perhaps you wouldn’t mind a little kink.”
She snapped her head around, her face serious. “I’m not really sure how adventurous I am. How could I judge?”
He stood. “Don’t judge, just enjoy. Take off all your clothes while I open the hot tub.”
She leaned over the back of the couch as he flipped on the outside spotlight. Her hands gripped the frame. “You mean go in the hot tub outside, in the cold?”
He stopped on his way through the sliding-glass door. “Trust me, you won’t be cold.”
Zach tried to walk normally in case Bea watched, but his hard cock made it difficult.
After
unbuckling the straps, he pushed the hot tub cover off until it stood against the deck railing. As he turned to go back in, he caught sight of Bea unzipping the skinny skirt she’d worn to work. It fell down her shapely legs to puddle at her feet. She stepped out in a tiny red thong. Didn’t the woman realize she was kink from the tip of her nose to the tops of her toes?
He opened the sliding door and strode up to her, enveloping her in his cold embrace.
“Ow, you’re freezing.” She laughed as he nuzzled her neck while she pushed weakly against his chest.
“Funny, I feel hotter than a bonfire. Here, feel.” He brought her hand down to his crotch.
“I stand corrected,” she purred as she stroked him over his jeans.
He stepped away. “Okay, off with that and that,” he pointed to her bra and thong.
She didn’t tease. She undid the clasp at the front and let the bra fall to the floor. Her rosy-red areolas appeared to stand hard, straining toward him. Then she slipped the thong down her legs. He noticed a sheen of moisture stripe down the inside of her thigh. Hell, the woman was already wet for him.
Scooping her up in his arms, he strode outside.
Bea pressed her body against his clothed frame as if she could disappear inside him. “Holy crow, Zach, it’s freezing out here.”
He licked her neck, since her face was buried in his shoulder. “You don’t know cold ’til you’ve had ice up that wet pussy of yours.”
That got her attention. “Oh geez, I think I’m going to come right now.”
He squeezed her before he let her legs down into the hot water. “How’s that for warm?”
She scrambled in and sat. “Oh, this feels wonderful.”
He smirked. “If you like that, wait.” He reached over to the controls and turned on the jets.
The sound of her laughter filled his heart.
“This is awesome, Zach. Aren’t you coming in?”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. Stripping outside in the cold to gain control of his rampant cock, he went into the house naked, dropped his clothes and grabbed two beers from the fridge.
When he returned, he hesitated as he watched her perfect breasts bob near the surface of the water. Beautiful and easy to please. Yup, he was one lucky man…for now.
