"No, it's fine," Violet replied, and she looked down at the elegant fine china in front of her. On it was a rare and bloody slice of mutton, surrounded by vegetables and mashed potatoes. She cut a piece of the meat off and put it in her mouth. It tasted bland but she smiled to appease her husband, who was watching her intently.
"It's delicious," she said, and he nodded.
"Good, yes, best mutton money can buy!"
Lady Violet chewed the meat slowly as she returned to her thoughts. It had been two weeks since her rescue from the pirate ship and all she had been able to think about was that one moment, that fateful second when she and Emmanuel were together, not as kidnapper and captive but as man and woman, as two lovers held in embrace.
Now that she had returned to her old ways of life, she became starkly aware of just how different things had become to her. Whereas before she would think nothing of wearing fancy outfits and talking down to her servants, now the clothing felt too stiff, the servants too much like her equal. She no longer enjoyed the forced conversations at dinner parties, the constant intellectual rivalry amongst the men who claimed to be friends. Instead she longed for the rugged camaraderie that the pirates had had, all the drinking and yelling and engaging in legitimate, manly fun.
And what was more, ever since she'd been rescued, she felt as though her feelings toward Roland had changed. He was her dear husband, and had been for six long years now. But even though he cared for her just as dearly as he had before, she wasn't sure that she felt the same way about him.
For instance, whenever they walked together in the park, Violet found herself becoming bored too easily, longing for the raucous nature of the pirate ship. Their meals together felt cold and detached, and dinner parties became almost a chore to her mind.
What's more, Roland's touch felt almost to be that of a stranger's. Violet no longer felt the connection she had once had with her husband. Her thoughts, and her heart, kept returning to the man on the ship, Emmanuel. That man had offered her a glimpse into a different life. And that man had stolen her heart and left her, cold and alone, to await the return of a life she had once lead.
Violet put down her knife and fork, unable to eat any more.
"Dear," she said across the long table, "I believe I'm not feeling very well. I think I may go up to bed to lie down for a while."
"Of course, my love. You have been looking somewhat pale as of late. I'll send a servant up with a hot towel shortly."
"Thank you dear," she said, and she stood up as a servant behind her pulled her chair back.
Lady Violet left the table and walked through the well-decorated hallways, up the large oak steps to the master bedroom. She passed by several servants on the way, each standing stiff at attention and awaiting any orders she may have. She didn't converse with any of them, however. She simply needed a moment alone, a moment away from Roland and everything around her.
Lady Violet turned the doorknob of the master bedroom and stepped inside, keeping her head low. She closed the door behind her and when she lifted her gaze she saw Emmanuel standing by the bed, his clothing torn in places, his hair a disheveled mess.
Lady Violet almost screamed but managed to suppress it just in time. Emmanuel held out his hand, as though attempting to tame a wild animal. His expression was one of both fear and determination.
"Lady Violet," he said, and the low rumble of his voice sent waves of nostalgia through her.
She felt herself begin to swoon, and Emmanuel was at her side in a second. One hand was on her back, supporting her, and the other was running lightly over her forehead.
"M'lady," he said softly. "Please do not faint. I am not here to harm you."
"Emmanuel," she whispered softly, and the two looked deeply into each other's eyes.
It was as though the last fortnight had simply not passed, that they were still on the hillside together, the dawn coming up just over the hills. Emmanuel, his eyes filled with burning desire, lowered his lips to Violet's and kissed her, deeply. She lifted both arms and wrapped them around his neck, holding onto him as though her life depended on it.
The kiss broke off and the two remained together, their faces inches apart, as they studied one another intently. Finally Emmanuel spoke again:
"I've come back for you," he told her softly.
Lady Violet swallowed.
"That is everything that I have ever wanted," she said, her words barely more than a whisper, and Emmanuel lowered his head to hers once more, kissing her.
Chapter 13
Veronica woke to someone nudging her arm. She snorted and sat up, trying to blink the room into focus, squinting in the light. She was in a sitting position and realized that she was still in the chair in the living room. Her book lay tumbled on her lap, and Greg was standing over her, wearing his dressing gown.
"Hey there," he said, and looked up at him, the light still hurting her eyes. "I woke up and you weren't in bed."
"Oh, yeah," Veronica replied, stretching. "I couldn't sleep last night so I came down to read. I guess I dozed off."
She picked up the book and flipped through the pages, trying to find her place.
"You couldn't sleep?" Greg repeated.
"No."
"Was it ... because of me?" he asked.
"Oh, no sweety, I don't — no, it wasn't because of you." Veronica got up from the chair and the two stood apart from one another, Greg not quite meeting her eyes. "No, I just couldn't sleep. That's all."
"Well … okay," he said. "I'll go get some breakfast started."
"Okay sweety," she said, and Greg turned to go into the kitchen.
Veronica flipped through the pages of her book again, finding her spot and marking it before putting it back on the table. She went upstairs to the bedroom, stripped down and got into the shower.
When she came out again she could smell breakfast being cooked. Greg had certainly gotten better at making meals, that was for sure. Veronica got dressed and went down to join him in the kitchen. They chatted about minor things, and after they'd eaten Veronica offered to clean up while Greg got ready for work.
"Thanks babe," he said, getting up from the table. "I'm running a little late anyways."
"My pleasure," she said, and she took the dishes over to the sink and started washing them. When she was almost done Greg appeared in the kitchen again, adjusting his tie.
"Okay, I'm heading out. I'll see you tonight maybe?"
"Yeah, maybe. I'm not sure yet what I'm doing today."
"Ah," Greg said. He stood a bit back from her and, though Veronica was still focusing on the dishes in the sink, she had a feeling like he was watching her, wanting to say something. After a minute, though, he just said, "Okay, well, I guess I'm off then. Have a great day."
"You too," she replied, and he left, shutting the front door behind him.
Veronica finished the dishes in silence, letting the sink drain when she was done. Drying her hand on a dish towel, she walked over to a window and looked out. It was a beautiful day, one that shouldn't be wasted inside. And the house felt so big to her, so empty and encompassing.
Her mind went to her purse, where the scrap of paper containing Jason's phone number lay tucked away. She hadn't called him yet, not since he gave it to her. Biting her lip, she looked up at the clock — it was still kind of early. She decided to do a bit of gardening, perhaps until the middle of the day.
When noon rolled around Veronica came back inside, sweaty and with small smears of dirt on her forehead. Her stomach was rumbling and so she made herself a bit of a snack. While she ate it she looked at the clock again — half past twelve. She needed another shower after the work she'd just done, so when she finished eating she hopped in and gave herself a quick rinse.
Coming back out and getting dressed again, it was almost one o'clock. She looked over at her purse, perched on top of her dresser. Narrowing her eyes, she finally walked over to it and opened it up. She fished through and found the scrap of paper, open
ing it up and seeing the ten digits written upon it.
She took the paper with her down to the kitchen where she picked up the phone receiver. Taking a deep breath, she punched in the numbers and held the phone to her ear. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Just when she figured that he might not be home there was a click and Jason's voice came on the other end.
"Hello?" she heard him say, a tinnier version of himself.
"Hey Jason?" she replied. "It's Veronica."
"Veronica," she heard a smile coming through as he said her name and she felt herself relax. "How're you doing?"
"Um, not too bad," she said. "Are you … having a good morning?"
"Yeah. I'm in the middle of a job right now, so that's been keeping me busy."
"Oh, okay," Veronica said. "Um, well, if you had some free time today I was wondering if you wanted to get together?"
A pause on the other end. Veronica held her breath, unaware that she was doing so. Then Jason's voice came back on:
"Yeah, I should be able to do that." She let the breath out slowly. "Want to meet at the bluffs, say, in an hour?"
"I'd love to," Veronica responded. "I'll see you in an hour."
"See you then," he said, and she heard the phone click.
She hung her end up and leaned back against the wall. A smile crept over her face and, turning, she left the kitchen to go back upstairs.
~~~
The bluffs were beautiful at this time of day. The sky was clear and you could look out for miles over the water, watching the wind create waves, destroy them, their entire life cycle over in a second. The horizon went on forever, and the surface of the water was a ceaseless, ever-changing mass of blue and white.
The view, however, was currently being missed by two occupants in the back of Jason's car. Inside Veronica was facing the back, straddling Jason as the two locked lips, struggling to get their clothes off. Jason's hands ran up Veronica's sides, the sounds of heavy breathing and skin hitting skin punctuating the air. She shirked off her coat and let it fall to the floor, grabbing Jason's leather jacket and pulling it down off of his arms.
She stripped his t-shirt off and quickly dropped her head down, kissing his hard pecs, taking his nipple into her mouth. He held her there for a second before guiding her back up, their lips meeting once again. Veronica allowed herself to become naked at his hands, felt his strong grip on both of her breasts when her torso was bare.
It was Jason's turn to use his mouth. He pulled her body close and took a breast into her mouth, massaging it with his tongue, making her throw her head back. She felt the warmth channel all the way down her body, to the tips of her toes. He reached down and began undoing her pants, and she returned the favour.
Both zippers being pulled down, the couple took a second to shed themselves of the rest of their clothing. Once done, Veronica climbed back onto Jason's lap, finding his hardness pressing into the exact place she wanted it. She helped to guide it in, and when the two were together they made love, their bodies held close together, Veronica's head a foot above Jason's.
She could feel the heat glowing on his skin, his hard muscles in contrast to her own softness. His hands roamed wildly over her, his mouth exploring her frame like an animal. At some point he grabbed her and they flipped, so that she was lying on her back and he was on top of her.
She looked up and saw him through a hazy light. He moved into her with such passion, and as he did their eyes locked together. She saw him smile — the first actual smile she'd ever seen on his face, and she smiled back. He lowered his head to hers and they kissed. Veronica was lost for thought, all of her senses being wrapped up in this single moment.
~~~
When their dance finally ended Veronica and Jason lifted themselves up, leaning back against the leather seats. She felt the coolness of the upholstery against her back, Jason's arm wrapped around her shoulders, his body next to hers. They looked out the front window and saw the view that the bluffs gave, the surface of water only just visible from this angle.
She felt herself yawn and turned to nuzzle against Jason's chest, putting her hand on him. As she ran her fingers over his skin, she felt the raised bumps of his scars. She opened her eyes and focused, seeing the criss-crossing lines, white against his skin. He'd never talked about them before, and she'd never inquired. She could hear his heartbeat, almost quiet inside of his chest.
"Jason?" she said.
"Mmm?"
"Where did these scars come from?"
She felt him stiffen for just a second.
"They're nothing," he finally said. "I got them a long time ago."
Veronica ran a finger down one of them, following the path it made.
"There are so many of them," she said under her breath, and suddenly Jason's hand grabbed hers, moving it down to his thigh.
"Don't," he said, his voice sounding flat.
"I'm sorry," Veronica said.
She tried running her fingers over his thigh instead, keeping with the intimacy from before. But the moment was gone.
"Who's car were you working on earlier?" she asked, attempting to break the silence.
"This guy Zander's. He got my number off of Kyle. It's a pretty easy job. I should have it done by tomorrow."
"Wow," she said. "How long have you been doing that kind of thing on your own?"
"Ever since I learned, when I was a kid."
"And you learned it yourself? Like out of a book?"
"No, my- … I was taught."
"By who?" Veronica asked. She was curious to know where you learned something so practical.
Jason paused a second before saying, "My old man."
"Oh, wow," she said. "I think that's great that your dad would teach you something that you can use later on in life. My dad never taught me anything, except how to do my taxes and even then I still screw it up every year. Do you two still work on cars together often?"
"Look, can we just drop this please?" Jason said, and Veronica realized that his chest was rising and falling quickly. "I work on my own, okay? I haven't needed him for a long time."
"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry," Veronica said quickly. She felt herself blush as Jason's body gave off a different kind of heat. He was still breathing heavily but he didn't say anything. The tension between them grew.
"I'm sorry," Veronica said. "I didn't mean to bring up anything to hurt your fee-"
"What part of 'drop it' don't you understand?" he snapped, cutting her off. "This is none of your business, all right? I fix up cars, and I've been doing it for fifteen years. I'm fucking good at it, and it's no thanks to my old man who left me without even saying goodbye. So you can just keep your prying questions to yourself, okay?"
Veronica felt her throat start to tighten up.
"Okay," she got out. "I'm sorr-" but Jason was getting up, pushing her off of him.
"Stop saying you're sorry," he said. He wasn't looking at her. "Look, I should get back to the shop. I've got work I need to do."
He grabbed his pants off the floor and started pulling them on. Veronica blinked hot tears back. She grabbed her own clothes and put them on as well. When the two were dressed Jason got out, holding the door open for her. She climbed out and he shut it behind her. Immediately he opened the driver's side door.
"Bye," was all he said, and he closed the door, separating him from her. She stood there as his engine roared to life, and he drove away, circling around her in the parking lot, leaving it and disappearing down the road.
She was alone in the parking lot, no other car there but hers. She walked slowly back to it, got into the front seat, and put the key in the ignition. But she didn't turn it. She didn't have the strength. Her throat tightened and her lower lip began to tremble. She blinked and felt her eyelids become wet, burning already from the salt. Taking a shuddering breath in she let it out and heard herself moan, a sad, pathetic sound.
That was what did it. Veronica let out one sob and another as hot tears started to run down her cheeks. Sh
e grabbed onto the steering wheel and lowered her head, hiding her face, her shame. Her body was wracked with weeping moans, her sides hurting, her eyes scrunched tight. The sound of her pathetic voice echoed around the car and back into her own ears. Outside, the cool wind blew silent, completely disinterested in the car sitting lonely in the sunny parking lot.
Chapter 14
Veronica put her key in the front door and let herself in. She walked into the dark house, the silence surrounding her almost foreboding. She shut the door behind her, her face flat and expressionless. Dropping her purse, she walked into the kitchen and turned on the light.
She sat down at the table and glanced up at the clock. Almost four in the afternoon. Not like it mattered. She looked around the kitchen and noticed the drying rack, full of dishes. Dishes from this morning, from when Greg made the two of them breakfast. And then he left for work so they could have money to survive, and she went off and fucked another man in the backseat of his car …
Her throat started to tighten up again and Veronica grimaced. She looked away, forcing herself to think of something else. A deep breath in, and slowly out. The tightening went away. But that just left nothing in its place. Her body and her mind, filled with nothing.
Maybe she was just tired. Maybe she just needed to lay down for a bit and see if that would make her feel better. She got up from the table and went to her bedroom where she lay down on top of the covers. She stared at the ceiling, her eyes slowly blinking. They drooped down, and down, and before she knew it her eyes were closed and she had slipped off to sleep.
~~~
Veronica was in the forest she went to with her walking group sometimes. The smell of pine was in the air; the twigs and leaves crackled beneath her feet. She looked around and saw trees to either side, their branches close to her but not quite touching. And up ahead on the path there was Jason, walking away from Veronica, his back to her.
Veronica raised her hand and tried to call his name, but no voice came out. Jason kept moving, seemingly unaware that she was behind him. She tried running to him but her body felt like it was stuck in mud. She couldn't go any faster than she was.
Perfect Strangers Page 8