What Remains

by Sandra Miller

“I don’t know. I’m not all that sure this is what I want anymore. There was such a real sense of freedom about picking up and going whenever I wanted.”

  Tessa couldn’t help but laugh inwardly at his disclosure. Hadn’t she felt the same way for the past six years? The nomadic lifestyle was very liberating, she couldn’t deny that, but as her children so aptly put it, it was also a cop out.

  “Why can’t you have both? You know, teach during the fall and spring semesters, and then travel during the summer?”

  “It wouldn’t be the same; I’d still have a time table dictating where I go and what I do.”

  “That’s true, I suppose. But chances are, living with no restraints would become just as boring as working a 9 to 5 job. I think enjoying your life is a balancing act of moderation. Maybe if we could keep ourselves from over-indulging in anything, everything would stay new and exciting.”

  “Maybe,” Gregory laughed, sounding as if he wasn’t buying it. “I must sound petty to someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?”

  “Yeah, I mean, you have life already figured out.”

  Allowing herself to honestly laugh for the first time in a long time, Tessa threw her head back and enjoyed the moment. In fact, it took her some time to finally stop. Even then, she couldn’t help but to continue smiling from ear to ear.

  “I take it you find that amusing?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Thank you.”

  “Can I ask why?” he inquired, sounding as if her laughter had lightened his own mood.

  “I’m forty years old, and I’m more confused now about how to live my life than I was when I was sixteen. So no, I don’t have life figured out. I don’t have the slightest clue what I’m doing.”

  “Good, that makes me feel better then. I was beginning to think there was something wrong with me.”

  Shaking her head, Tessa, still grinning, responded, “Oh, I’m not saying that. There probably is something seriously wrong with you, with both of us.”

  A few hours later, standing outside the café, there was a brief moment of strained silence before Tessa finally extended her hand to say goodbye to Gregory. It irked her to no end that he stood there so calm and causal while she was drowning in a pool of her own sweat, brought on by the palpable chemistry between them.

  Gregory, being the younger and bolder of the two, leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss against her cheek before stepping back and stuffing his hands down into the pockets of his Dockers. As he waited for a response, Tessa surprised herself and stared back without feeling self-conscious as usual. What wasn’t said between them in those brief moments was far more revealing and honest than anything they had shared during their entire conversation.

  “Thank you for the coffee and the company,” she said softly.

  “It was my pleasure, believe me.”

  “I’ll see you around then?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Well, I better go…” she stammered. “Have a good evening, and enjoy the rest of your summer.”

  Gregory chuckled, “I was hoping I could convince you to have dinner with me this weekend. Summer is a terrible thing to waste.”

  “Oh,” she giggled, caught off guard by the invitation. She hadn’t been asked out in twenty years and didn’t recognize the signs that one was forth coming. “I’d love that.”

  “Well, you have my number, and I fully expect you to use it by Friday”

  “I will.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “Good.”

  With neither of them willing to be the first one to walk away, Tessa finally forced herself to wave and head towards the direction of her car. As she walked it didn’t take long before her head cleared from the powerful pull of sexual attraction, and she began asking herself valid questions like: What was she doing? Why would she assume after an innocent offer of coffee, that a young man like Gregory would be interested in a broken down old hag like her? And why, after years of being for all intensive purposes dead from the neck down, did she have to suddenly come to life around someone just a few years older than her daughter?

  Truly, she needed some serious therapy. It wasn’t normal to be her age and develop a school girl crush. Besides, her last crush ended in teenage pregnancy, a fifty pound weight gain, and twenty years of pure unadulterated hell—referring to both marriage and stretch marks. The odds simply weren’t in her favor when it came to romance.

  Chapter Six

  Later that week, while working on chores, completely lost in thoughts of self-deprecation, with only one day left before she would be forced to keep her promise to Gregory and call him, Tessa moved about the mansion going from room to room on the first floor, vacuuming and dusting her way into an eventual resignation. The physical activity—or perhaps the chemicals in the furniture polish—had finally prompted her into seeing things with a little more clarity and self-forgiveness. Surely being attracted to a man had to at least be semi-normal? Why wouldn’t it be? Gregory Hayes was beautiful in a very masculine, yet artistically sensitive—young Kris Kristofferson kind of way.

  Look at the majority of men on the planet who were forty or older, weren’t they constantly ogling women half their age? Why should women be held at a higher standard of morality? And it wasn’t as if she was harboring any unrealistic illusions that Gregory felt the same for her. But he did enjoy her company, it was evident even to her, with an ego that was almost non-existent at this point.

  Besides, her attraction to him could easily be held in check, after all, she had the self-restraint of a Tibetan monk when it came to her libido. But an opportunity to actually have a friend to talk to, who shared so much in common with her, was an opportunity she wasn’t willing to let slip by. Being single in a new place far from any family was a lonely existence, and she welcomed the idea of having someone willing to fill that void. So what if it that someone just happened to be a handsome young man.

  All of her life, Tessa had had adult responsibilities placed on her, from helping her family scratch out an existence from a rocky mountain homestead, to raising her own children when she was nothing more than a child herself. Hadn’t she always been dutiful and hardworking? Shouldn’t she at some point in life be allowed to be playful, care free, and just a little reckless? After considering the question for some time, Tessa decided to just let the answer evolve over time. Chances were she was reading way too much into Gregory’s friendliness. Just because he was kind to her, didn’t mean he was interested in having any sort of relationship develop between them, friendship or otherwise.

  How she regretted the fact that she had been shown such little tenderness over the past twenty years that she found herself craving it like an addict, perhaps to the point where she was willing to make a complete fool out of herself to find it. The events of the past week, and the way they left her emotionally torn had her questioning whether she would ever heal from two decades of abuse.

  Somehow, Tessa needed to find a way back to normalcy again but was growing increasingly impatient; the healing process was taking far too long and interfering with any hopes of happiness in the future.

  When the Westminster chime of the doorbell rang throughout the house, Tessa was more than ready for the interruption. The retrievers, who lied peacefully at the entrance of the dining room jumped into high alert and bounded for the foyer, looking back as if to ask her what was taking her so long. Tessa laughed aloud and encouraged them to lead the way.

  The chime rang out twice more before the three of them reached the foyer. Tessa swung open the door and found herself face to face with an attractive young woman looking quite chic in her skinny jeans and stilettos. If she wasn’t a professional model, she should’ve been; her face was near perfect, despite the over-use of eye makeup.

  “Hi,” Tessa greeted cheerfully. “How can I help you?”

  “I’m Kristen Blakely, Seth’s fiancée.”

  “Oh my goodness, plea
se come in. I’m sorry it took me so long to answer the door, but I was in the east wing cleaning.”

  “No need to apologize,” she said in a thick New England accent. “You didn’t know I was coming today. I didn’t even know. Seth called at the last minute and asked that I check in on you since he hasn’t been home all week.”

  “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”

  Stepping aside, Tessa allowed her to enter and closed the door, a little surprised by the fact that the dogs weren’t already harassing her for attention. Instead, they sat quietly, watching with some disinterest.

  “Oh, you know, Seth—always concerned about his staff taking advantage of his generosity.”

  “Excuse me,” Tessa asked, assuming she had misunderstood what was said, because Seth Richards and generosity didn’t really belong in the same sentence.

  The tall, blonde, young Kristen removed her designer sunglasses and stared down her nose at Tessa with a certain degree of satisfaction present in her expression.

  “Don’t take it personally, it’s just Seth. Who knows, he’s probably worried that you’re selling off all the family heirlooms on eBay or something.”

  “That’s funny, I’ve been here over a week and he’s never said anything to lead me to believe he doesn’t trust me,” she lied.

  “Why would he? It would sort of defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?”

  Forcing a tight smile, Tessa decided it best not respond to the remark and excused herself so she could return to work but didn’t get very far before she was stopped.

  “I’m going up to Seth’s room, so be a dear and bring me some hot tea, will you?”

  With a tray in hand, Tessa knocked at the bedroom door, dreading the next few seconds when she would have to enter and have another exchange of words with the fiancée.

  “It’s open,” the young woman’s voice called out.

  Pushing the door with her foot, Tessa entered quietly and tried to set the tray down without notice so she could hurry and slip out of the room. But it wasn’t meant to be.

  “Impressive room isn’t it,” Kristen asked, holding swatches of material against the wall next to the window.

  “Yes, it is,” admitted Tess with some reluctance, seeing the inside of her employer’s bedroom for the first time, since he had deemed it off limits, insisting that he had never been comfortable with the idea of someone intruding on his private space. She had half expected it to be dark and dismal, covered in spider webs with a coffin sitting in the middle of it.

  Although it did resemble a king’s private chambers in some medieval castle, there was nothing sinister about it. In all honesty, it was quite impressive with its heavily beamed cathedral ceilings and massive mahogany furniture; large oil paintings of hunting scenes that adorned the walls, most of which seemed to be originals, though she would never again make the mistake of asking.

  How apropos, she thought to herself with a new wave of resentment for her employer starting to seep in from the remark Ms. Blakely had made earlier. Tessa could understand him having some reservations, she was a new hire living in his house after all, but to assume she was inept was entirely different. And asking this princess, who had probably never done housework in her life, to ‘check in on her’ was a slap in the face.

  “That’s all…you can leave now.”

  Not needing to be asked twice, Tessa turned to leave.

  “Oh, Ms. Maguire…” Kristen called out just as she reached the doorway.

  Turning only enough to be civil, Tessa waited for the young woman to continue.

  “Has he said anything to you about how you’re to dress?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I suggest you try a little harder to look presentable. When he has guests, your appearance reflects on him.”

  Looking down at the sweat pants she wore rolled up to the knees, and the ‘wife beater’, Tessa felt her face flush.

  “I was cleaning the east wing. If I had known he was expecting someone…”

  “That’s no excuse; you never know when he’s going to have visitors.”

  “Until he suggests something more appropriate to clean toilets in and greet his guests, I think I’ll wear my sweats.”

  “I realize it might be difficult for a woman your size to find clothes that fit properly, but I’m sure you can find something a little more professional. Most uniform shops sell plus sizes, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll look into it,” Tessa lied, attempting to make it through the door this time.

  “I wasn’t trying to offend you,” the young woman added, though Tessa felt no need to stop walking this time. “Personally I don’t care what you look like, but Seth has a real problem with people who let themselves go. I’m surprised he ever agreed to hire you. But he did say he was desperate, so you were lucky.”

  No, the only thing she found fortuitous was the fact that when she and the dogs returned from their five mile hike that the house was empty. It had started to rain when she was about two miles from the estate, so her already foul mood had taken a turn for the worse. Even being chilled to the bone did little to dispel the indignation that had her steaming inside.

  Opening the door, she allowed Rex and Hank to enter first into the house that was now in total darkness, accept for what little bit of light was streaming in through the windows from the security lights surrounding the estate. While she removed her wet sneakers and hoodie which had been little protection from the steady rainfall, she heard them suddenly yelp joyfully.

  “What is it boys, did you find a treat,” she laughed softly, flipping on the light switch as she closed the door behind her.

  Turning to find Mr. Richards standing there at the island gave her quite a start and she gasped and jumped backwards.

  “You scared me,” she smiled, though she felt anything but friendly toward him at that moment.

  “Then I guess we’re even,” he said evenly, though it was clear from the strained expression on his face that he wasn’t too happy with her either.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you were coming home tonight, I thought you told me Friday.”

  “It doesn’t matter when you were expecting me. I came home and found the doors unlocked and no one here. I was getting ready to call the authorities.”

  Tessa laughed nervously, “Why on earth would you do that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know…maybe because all the signs were pointing to an accident or an abduction; you were gone, you’re car is still here, the house was left unattended so that anyone could walk in. What would you have assumed if you were me, Ms. Maguire?”

  “The same thing, I guess,” she readily admitted, slightly amused at how short-lived their attempt at first names basis lasted.

  “Where were you?”

  “We went for a walk.”

  “At night?”

  “No, it was still light outside when we left.”

  “So you’ve been gone for hours?”

  “It would seem.”

  “I’m beginning to think I should have gone with my first instinct and found someone else who might understand the meaning of responsibility.”

  At this point, Tessa had had enough. Quickly growing defensive, she squeezed the rain from the ends of her braids with her jacket and moved to make her way to her apartment to get out of the wet clothing so she could get dinner started. The last thing she wanted to do was to have a confrontation with this man, she was biting her tongue as it was, and him standing there berating her like a complete imbecile would not end well for either of them, not when she was still seething from the insults she endured from his fiancée.

  “Yeah, well—maybe you should have,” she snapped as she passed by him.

  Placing a hand on her forearm lightly, Mr. Richards impeded her progress, refusing to let the matter drop.

  “If you want to keep this job, Ms. Maguire, I think you better explain yourself.”

  Tessa’s anger had reached its boiling point. How dare he place all the blame on he
r after sending Kristen on a reconnaissance mission, as if he found her incompetent of even the most menial labor.

  Jerking her arm away, Tessa hissed, “I’ve already told you, I went for a walk.”

  “And I told you in no uncertain terms were you weren’t to go beyond the immediate grounds of the estate.”

  “Yeah well, I finished my chores for the day, if that’s what you’re concerned about. You got your money’s worth out of me for ten hours—or wasn’t you’re fiancée satisfied with what she saw?”

  Mr. Richards stared at her briefly in confusion before asking for clarification.

  “My what?”

  “Fiancée,” Tessa snapped. “She told me how you sent her here to check on me. Which is fine, I understand. But if you have a problem trusting me, or with the way I dress or how I look, then you should be the one to tell me. Having one of your minions do it is degrading, and I refuse to be talked to as if I’m trailer trash, by her, by you, or anyone else. I’m a hard worker, Mr. Richards, I’m loyal, and I’m honest, and I expect to be treated with a certain measure of respect.