A Gothic Lesson in Love

by Curtis Bennett

  “Man, I’m ready to eat now!” Irene chuckled. “You and mother make the best Shepard Pie.”

  “Why, thank you niece.”

  “And what are we having for dessert?”

  “I made New York style Cheesecake with a graham cracker crust,” she said. “I got a hold of some imported Philadelphia Cream Cheese and decided on making this. But it will not be ready until tomorrow. But I did bake some brownies, if you care for those. They’re in the bowl on the countertop.”

  “I love brownies,” Irene quipped. “Can’t get enough of them or cheesecake.”

  “Hey, looks like my cooking is going to have both of us jogging off the pounds if we don’t watch it.”

  “I promise not to let it get to that point,” Irene assured her aunt.

  “Good,” Audrey came back. “I’d hate to put the twelve pounds I lost back on.”

  “You were on a diet?” Irene asked. “I just thought you always looked so great.”

  “Thanks but it doesn’t come naturally for me. I’ve been committed to my diet going on two months. Honey, I lost twelve pounds and I’m not looking back.”

  “That’s really great,” Irene said before turning thoughtful. “Auntie, what can you tell me about commitment?”

  “You mean as in relationships?”

  “I suppose,” Irene answered.

  “It’s a voluntary involvement or agreement, a promise to keep with another, someone special or someone in need,” Audrey replied. “That’s what it means to me.”

  “Sounds about right,” Irene said as though still lost in thought.

  “Does that answer your question?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Any particular reason why you asked me that?”

  “It was just a passing thought,” Irene said, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to herself or what she was thinking. But it was too late. Her aunt was on the trail, or so she thought.

  “So, you and Morris have anything planned for this upcoming weekend?”

  “I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I plan on calling him later.”

  “Anything serious, yet?”

  “As far as me liking him?”

  “Actually, I was alluding to feelings a little stronger than like.”

  “Morris is a good friend, auntie,” Irene said as she reached for a brownie in a glass covered bowl on the countertop. “We hang out and attend social events but that’s all to it.”

  “Does he know about your true feelings?”

  “I told him that I wasn’t interested in him that way, so yes…he knows.”

  “He’s a nice young man,” Audrey said as she turned to check on her bake dishes in the oven.

  “Yes, he’s cool,” Irene qualified as she took a bite of the brownie.

  “And he’s very handsome and very sweet,” Audrey added. “And he’s available.”

  “And I’m only here through the summer, remember auntie,” Irene chuckled.

  “I’ll tell you what I remember,” Audrey began, “I came here for a job assignment, and just for a few years and look at me, I am still here.”

  “But you were in love and married at the time, too. I am not,” Irene reminded her aunt as she took another bite of the brownie.

  “Well, I can’t argue that point with you,” Audrey said, taking a brownie for herself.

  “I love your brownies,” Irene said as she got up and went into the living room.

  “Dinner will be ready in another fifteen minutes,” Audrey said loudly, wondering if she had said something out of place.

  “Okay!” Irene bellowed back.

  It was the dawn of a new and misty day. The weather called for cloudy skies and possible rain, Irene heard from the radio weather report as she exited the shower. Drying herself off, she dressed then sat before the mirror in the vanity room and put her hair into a long pony tail, much like she did every morning. Her attire consisted of a pair of slacks, a loose top, and blue Converse sneakers. After eating brunch with her aunt, which consisted of scrambled eggs and two bacon slices and one sausage patty, a slice of toast, and a glass of chilled orange juice, she cleaned the kitchen and headed out. She told her aunt that she was going to do some shopping in Aylesbury and possibly hook up with Morris for lunch. This was what she had planned to do. But it had been six weeks since she last saw the professor and she felt he was due a return visit.

  Boarding her scooter, she made a brief stop at a local gas station in Ashbury Point, gassed up, then headed off to Professor Seabreeze’s residence. It was the longest ride she had ever taken there although it was along the same familiar route.

  Parking her scooter in its usual place, she walked onto the property and made her way to the front door of the cottage. She lifted the knocker to knock, then hesitated. This would be the first time she had been in his presence in a long while. The last time she was here he was furious with her. Would he still be, she pondered?

  Steeling herself, she knocked.

  She waited a while then knocked again. Still there was no response. This time she called out his name, “Professor Seabreeze! It’s me, Irene!” After she repeated this phrase a third time, she paused. As she waited, she looked to her right and to her left. Not a sign of life anywhere. But she knew that he was in there and she said so loudly.

  Walking around the back of the cottage she attempted to peer inside the patio doors but was blocked by the dark curtains inside. “Please Professor Seabreeze; I need to talk to you! Please, let me in.”

  Deflated, she walked around the front of the cottage and sat down on one of the concrete benches on the open patio and stared off into the distance. She had never felt so rejected before, so unsettled. She was now resigned to the fact that he did not want to have anything to do with her and possibly ever again.

  This was it, her last visit to this place, she vowed as she stood up. Glancing around she noticed something lying at the end of an adjacent bench, right near the front entrance, that wasn’t there moments before. Walking over to it she saw that it was an envelope. Gazing at the front door, then upward towards the second floor windows, she turned her attention back to the envelope she held with her name on it.

  Opening it she read the letter inside.

  Irene, my star pupil,

  If you have learned the lesson of commitment and still want to further explore other lessons with me you must follow my instructions below and to the letter. Arrive here at 5:00PM, day after tomorrow. You are asked to have your hair styled, your face made up, by way of make-up, and you must wear a long white evening gown. As for undergarments, think lace.

  You are to wear light blue designer’s nylon stockings, matching garter straps and corset and matching bra. There will be no exceptions to these instructions. None, Irene. I don’t think I’ll have to tell you what your next lesson will be.

  Dr. Seabreeze

  PS: Employ the services of a taxi and I will pay for it when you arrive. There will be an envelope lying exactly where you found this one. It will contain enough money for your taxi fare and tip.

  One other thing…it is imperative that you do not eat before you arrive.

  Looking upward towards the windows on the second floor, Irene mouthed the words, “I’ll be here.” More than anything, she wanted to get back into his good grace. But what was all of this stuff about blue lace and stockings, worldly things she had little knowledge of or interest in.

  After reading it a second time, she returned to her scooter and headed off to Wayne Brier. If she decided to go along with this request, she’d have to do some serious shopping. With time to think it over, she would decide along the way.

  Minutes before she arrived at her destination she decided to honor the professor’s request. Though it sounded irregular, almost odd in a deviant way, she trusted and respected him and enough to know that there must be a very good reason why he asked this of her. And there had better be a good reason, she told herself. She had been comfortable being a tomboy most of her life.
In the end, she figured what harm could come of one evening wearing these things. If it had been any other guy who asked her to do this, she would have bitten off their head.

  After five hours of inquiring and browsing numerous fashions shops and boutiques, she found the items she was searching for and in the sizes she was looking for. “36-26-34,” was what the clerk gave as her measurements, measurements her virgin ears were hearing for the first time as a young adult female. After her fitting, she bought a pair of dress shoes, light blue in color, to match her light blue stockings. As she rode back towards Ashbury Point she pondered what it was the professor had on his mind. She would surely find out day after tomorrow.

  Arriving home an hour before her aunt, she stashed away the undergarments but left out the dress and shoes to show her. She would tell her that she had met someone prior to their going on their European vacation and that she had finally decided to take him up on his offer to go out. That’s what she would tell her aunt, which wasn’t far from the truth. But would she buy it?

  Chapter 9

  “Irene…how is it that you forgot to tell me about this man, this stranger, and now, all of a sudden, you’re going out with him but you don’t know where you two are going?” Audrey queried, then teased, “You’re been holding back on me, kiddo.”

  The two were in Audrey’s art studio. She had been working on a new landscape painting.

  “I really did not think much about it, auntie,” Irene said. “I saw him only on a few occasions and now he’s finally gotten around to asking me out, that’s all.”

  “That’s all!” her aunt said incredulously, as she’d looked, then jabbed her brush at the painting in front of her. “I’ve never seen you this decked out before, not even when you and Morris went out. I’m just so surprised.”

  “Don’t be, auntie,” Irene said, standing up from the recliner. “He’s a really nice guy.”

  “They all are,” she tossed in, turning to face her niece. “And what is this gentleman’s name, if I may ask?”

  “Maurice,” Irene said, opting to use the professor’s middle name.

  “Does he have a last name?” Audrey asked, setting her paint brush and accessories down.

  “I don’t remember it, not right now,” she lied.

  “I see,” Audrey murmured. “Are you in love with this man, Irene?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know him that well.”

  “But well enough to go out with him.”

  “Yes, more than enough to go out with him.”

  “Okay,” Audrey said in exasperation. “You’re a grown woman now, so I trust you know what you’re doing.”

  “I do, auntie. I really do,” Irene assured her aunt.

  “Anyway, I am glad you finally decided to do something with your hair. I’ll take you to London the day of your outing, as you call it. We’ll both get our hair washed and styled, how does that sound?”

  “I’m looking forward to it, auntie,” Irene said cheerfully, glad that her aunt’s interrogation was finally over, at least for now.

  “But understand that we’ll have to leave for London early that morning in order to get back in time for your outing,” Audrey said, putting her paint brush down.

  “That’s all right with me,” Irene quipped.

  “You know, I would like to meet this friend of yours sometime and in the near future,” Audrey said bringing the topic to a close.

  “We’ll see how my outing goes first, okay?”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  The two hugged and kissed one another on the cheek tenderly, then headed off to the kitchen to indulge in a slice of New York-styled cheesecake.

  Along the way, her aunt said, “You two haven’t, you know…?”

  “No, auntie, nothing like that,” Irene swore on her father’s grave.

  Audrey smiled. “Just checking, niece.”

  Wednesday was the big day, a day that seemed to take forever to come. As warned by her aunt, the two left Ashbury Point early that morning on a train to London. Once there, they had breakfast in the area near Piccadilly Circus before taking a taxi to her aunt’s favorite hair salon two American miles away on the West End. Afterwards, everyone in the salon, especially her aunt, complimented Irene’s long hair and how beautiful and regal she looked, almost like British royalty. It was as if a total transformation had taken place.

  Irene could not believe it herself, how beautiful she looked, until she saw herself in the mirror. She was pleasantly surprised, almost in denial. She looked and felt like a different woman. What a difference a hairdo makes, she told herself.

  Before departing London, the two conversed and ate lunch at a nearby café, the kind with the tables situated outside.

  Once back in Ashbury Point, Irene eased herself into a bathtub full of bubbles and warm water. It was relaxing, peaceful, and quiet, a far cry from the hustle and bustle and noise London was known for. As she thought about her upcoming event that night, she pondered why she was so excited, to no avail.

  After her bath, she dried off and slipped into her robe. Going over to her aunt’s vanity counter, she sat down before a large rectangular mirror lined with soft bright bulbs. In a short while, her aunt gave her a facial. The make-up was just enough to accentuate her facial features. Irene marveled at her transformation and as much as her aunt. If only her mother and sister could see her, she thought.

  Afterwards, she returned to her room and closed the door and secured the lock on it. She retrieved her hidden stash, sat down on the chair, and began to put them on. First she put on the stockings, then the garter straps, and then the corset, and then the matching bra. She remembered everything the woman at the boutique had shown her. Walking over to the door, on which a full-length mirror hung, she looked at herself and was moved by how mature, how sensational, and how endowed she appeared and felt. My, where was all of this before? She asked herself. This was not her typical wardrobe.

  Looking closer she had to admit that her new undergarments showed off her figure to a degree she had never noticed before. And for the next minute or two her eyes consumed every sensuous detail, along with her generously round breasts and hour-glass waist. And then there was her bottom. She was beyond intrigued with her finer assets. This was the first time she had a real opportunity to look at herself in a full-length mirror. She did not grow up with one in their home.

  Going over to the closet, she withdrew her white evening gown and slipped into it. Next, she opened the shoe box and retrieved the light blue shoes, sat down, and slipped them on. She then placed light blue teardrop earrings on that her aunt had bought for her while they were in Cannes, France. Standing before the full-length mirror, for the final verdict, she gazed upon her image, as if she found it hard to believe that was her standing there. The dress looked fabulous on her. But it was the side split in the dress on the left side that captured her attention. It allowed her see how tantalizing a view her silk-clad thigh was when seen in the right position.

  She had never considered for a moment that she was dead-drop gorgeous, but her well dressed and well-endowed figure caused her to rethink her views on her beauty and sexuality.

  Forcing herself away from the mirror, she sprayed on a light mist of perfume she had purchased in Greece.

  Unlocking the door, she was ready to get her aunt’s approval before heading out. Leaving the room, she gingerly walked down the carpeted stairs and into the living room where her aunt awaited her.

  “My, you look fabulous!” Audrey cried out, as she walked over and gave her niece a warm hug. “I called for a taxi twenty minutes ago. It should be here any minute now.”

  “Thank you, aunt,” Irene said, her eyes gleaming, her lips painted a light cinnamon color.

  “Where’s your handbag?”

  “Over there, on the coffee table.” It was white leather.

  Audrey retrieved it.

  “Okay, I want to take a few pictures of you. Lord knows, it’s a rare occasion we get to see you all de
cked out and looking like a princess. And Irene, you really look radiant, very much like royalty. Here, let me straighten out your shawl for you,” she said, fussing over her with moist eyes.

  The princess poised regally for several photo shots before the doorbell rang.

  It was the taxi driver.

  The two women hugged.

  “You sure you won’t need one of these?” her aunt asked, holding a prophylactic rubber package in her hand.

  “I’m sure,” Irene chuckled. “Believe me, it’s not that kind of party, auntie.”

  Exiting the door, she entered the taxi. Though she felt special tonight, there was still one other person’s approval she wanted and needed to get.

  As the taxi pulled off, the driver asked for her destination. When she gave him the address and told him it was the Seabreeze residence, he stopped the car and asked her if that was really where she wanted to go. She assured him that it was and he continued on, having given her an apprehensive look. Apparently it was true, everyone had heard about the mysterious professor.

  A few minutes into the ride Irene realized what her next lesson was about.

  The taxi driver appeared even more apprehensive as he pulled up to the entrance of the driveway of the Seabreeze residence but did not enter the property. Irene assured him that if he wanted to get his fare he had better drive her up to the front door of the cottage. After giving it some thought, he turned onto the driveway and slowly proceeded towards the entrance. As the professor had assured her, there was an envelope on the concrete bench with money for the taxi fare.

  Seconds after the driver too off, she entered the cottage.

  There was music in the air. It was moving and powerful. As if in a hypnotic state, she followed it.

  The professor was seated at the pipe organ in his music hall, a huge chamber featuring a 16-foot cathedral ceiling, playing a favorite classical tune. It was a lovely piece by Bizet entitled “Duet Theme” from the opera The Pearl Fishers. It was a heartwarming but tragic romantic tune, a favorite of many classical music lovers and non-classical music lovers, as well. He had begun playing only minutes before Irene was scheduled to arrive, that is, if she was going to arrive at all. He realized that he had been quite harsh with her on their last encounter but he could not have her asking probing questions about his past. Besides, they had an understanding, an agreement, and she had violated it. But hopefully she had learned her lesson, and well. If she showed up he would know that she had.