by Tina Folsom
Sophia chuckled softly. “They are good for other things, too, you know.”
“So I hear. But I haven’t been interested in anybody in quite a while. Can’t force those things, right?” Even though she’d met a few men, there just hadn’t been any spark, and she’d given up on dating.
“It always happens when you least expect it. It did with Triton and me. And I don’t know what I’d do without him,” Sophia mused. “He’s everything to me.”
“You’re lucky you found each other.”
“You could find somebody, too.”
Psyche wiped a few drops of sweat from her brow. “It’s not that easy. And to be honest, I’m happy on my own.” She pointed to the flowerbeds. “I should get back to work.”
Sophia nodded. “If you need a cold drink later, just stop by the kitchen. Alice will give you something.”
“Thanks Sophia.”
Sophia walked back into the house, and Psyche kneeled down in the grass again. She picked up her tools and devoted all her attention to the plants in front of her, all the while ignoring the voices still drifting down from Triton’s office. She blocked them out as best she could, but while she couldn’t make out any specific words, she could tell that the men were agitated.
She sighed and shook her head. They were probably discussing something trivial like the latest football match or baseball game. Not that she even knew whether it was football or baseball season. Another advantage of not having a boyfriend: she didn’t have to keep up with sports games on TV.
By the time Psyche was done with the planting, the sun stood high in the sky. What was wrong with this weather? It was only February and already it was sweltering hot. Sweat ran down her neck and disappeared beneath her tank top. She felt sticky and uncomfortable and kept wiping her nape and forehead with her earth-stained hands. She needed a cold drink and a shower. But first, the new plants needed watering or they would wither away in no time.
Psyche rose and stretched her back, then glanced around for the garden hose. She spotted it hanging on a hook outside the little storage area next to the house. She walked over and took it off the hook, turning on the spout. Nothing happened. No water came through the hose. When she followed the pipe, which lay exposed along the building’s foundation, the reason became evident in an instant: the pipe led nowhere. It had been disconnected.
Great, now she’d have to lug water from the house.
4
Eros was heading for the front door to the Olympus Inn, when he noticed the gate to the garden standing open. Always one to take a shortcut, he marched in and heard male voices coming from Triton’s study. He recognized not only Triton’s voice, but also Dio’s and Hermes’. What were the guys discussing, and why hadn’t they invited him to join them? He was always up for shooting the breeze with his best friends and felt a little miffed that they hadn’t told him they were getting together.
Straining to listen in on the conversation on the second floor, he hurried past the garage and toward the stairs, turning the corner and lifting his foot for the first step. But he didn’t get any farther. Instead, he crashed into something: somebody carrying two buckets of water. Before he could steady himself, he fell backward, grabbing on to the nearest thing for balance: one of the buckets.
Water sloshed over him as he landed on his back, the grass cushioning his fall. But the water wasn’t the only thing that landed on him. A split second later a gasping woman fell onto him, her knee only barely missing his groin, while she made futile attempts to get up.
“Crap!” she cursed.
“Shit, I’m soaked!”
She finally managed to scramble backward. Only now did he get a good look at her. She was as drenched as he, her chestnut colored shoulder length hair wet and so tangled it looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in months. Her tank top was soaked through. Involuntarily his eyes were drawn to what lay beneath. Perfectly round and firm breasts, the nipples that topped them hard from the cold water.
Well, that was just perfect! A siren! Could he not get a break from troublesome women? By Hades, he was doomed!
“Thanks for the shower,” he said, before she could open her mouth. “A bucket of water in the face is exactly what I needed today.”
Her eyes widened. “What did you expect? You pulled on the bucket! I had both my hands full. How was I supposed to keep my balance with you dragging me down?”
Eros managed to sit up, while she jumped to her feet. “Oh, you’re making this my fault?” He lifted himself up and braced his hands at his hips. “Typical woman!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she ground out, her eyes narrowing.
She had bright green irises surrounded by long dark lashes. Her lips were full and red, even though she was pressing them together now in obvious annoyance. There were smudges on her face, but they didn’t detract from her looks. She was stunning in a girl-next-door kind of way. Not that he was interested. No matter how well she carried off the wet-T-shirt look. Women were trouble, and he was staying far away from all of them. Even this tempting specimen.
“Forget it!” he ground out and turned toward the stairs, eager to get away from her.
But a surprisingly strong hand on his shoulder jerked him back, making him face her again. “You’re not even gonna apologize?” she asked, fury coloring her cheeks. “I guess helping with the clean-up is out of the question.” The last words carried a good dose of sarcasm, and that was something he couldn’t resist replying to.
He took a step toward her, looking her up and down. “I’m not interested in...” He paused for effect. “... helping you clean yourself up. But thanks for the offer. I’m not into...” He motioned to her bedraggled appearance. “... women.” Like you, he’d wanted to add, but stopped himself. Before Gloria, he would have been into this mortal woman. By Hades, he would have made a play for her until he’d gotten her into his bed. But he knew exactly what it would lead to, and he wasn’t in the mood for another heartbreak. He was done!
The woman’s mouth dropped open, but she didn’t remain speechless for long. “You, you...” She took a big breath as if ready to launch into the kind a tirade only the mother goddess Hera was capable of. “You inconsiderate, chauvinistic—”
“What’s happening down there?” Triton interrupted from the balcony, saving Eros from the barrage of unpleasantness the woman was clearly ready to unleash on him.
“Look at me!” Eros replied and pointed at the woman. “And instead of apologizing, she calls me names!”
“You’re completely distorting what really happened. You grabbed my bucket when you stumbled over your own feet, and you pulled me down with you.”
From above on the terrace came the sound of laughter. Dionysus and Hermes had joined Triton and were looking down at Eros and the angry beauty with what could only be described as glee.
“What are you laughing at?” Eros growled up at them.
“You look like a drowned rat,” Hermes said.
Dionysus jabbed his friend with his elbow in agreement. “Not a very flattering look.”
“Not my fault, is it?” Eros grunted and glared at the woman responsible for his current state. Though she didn’t look much more presentable than him.
She simply glared back and grabbed her buckets. Her head held high, she turned abruptly and stomped away. He didn’t look after her, not wanting to give her the satisfaction that he cared one way or another what she was doing.
“Eros,” Triton admonished.
He looked up at his three friends who were staring down at him, frowning.
“What?” he snapped.
“Where are your manners?” Triton asked and pointed in the direction the woman had disappeared. “Go and apologize. Psyche is a sweet woman, and she works for me. I won’t have you pissing her off.”
Her name was Psyche? Unusual, though it suited her. But he wouldn’t be swayed by a pretty name or an even prettier face. “But—”
“No buts. This is not who you a
re. We all know who you’re angry with, and it sure isn’t Psyche.”
Eros sighed. He knew his friend was right. But Triton didn’t know how bad things had gotten. He didn’t know about the confrontation with Zeus or the fact that lack of sex had put him in a constant state of agitation. The smallest incident, and he exploded like a powder keg.
Knowing he’d been a jerk, Eros turned and let his eyes roam around the garden. He spotted Psyche near a couple of flowerbeds placing tools in a small box. Though he hated to grovel, particularly with his three best friends watching, he approached her. His body threw a shadow past her, and she stiffened, but didn’t turn around.
“Listen, Psyche,” he started and cleared his throat. When she still didn’t move, he continued a little softer, “I’m really sorry. It had nothing to do with you.”
She lifted her box of gardening tools and rose, barely glancing at him.
“I was in a bad mood, and I let it out on you. It wasn’t fair. I was a jerk.”
That made her look at him. She nodded. “Okay.”
“I had a fight with my family,” he felt compelled to add, trying to explain himself. “With my grandfather to be exact. He doesn’t approve of my... uh... lifestyle, I guess you could call it.”
Her expression softened a little. “Well, we all have bad days, don’t we?”
“Yeah, guess so.” He pointed to her wet clothes. “Can I pay for the laundry?”
She shook her head. “These are my work clothes. And after the shower they got just a minute ago, they’re actually cleaner than before.”
He tilted his head to the side, perusing her more closely. “Is that a no?”
“You don’t have to pay for my laundry. Everything’s fine. But there’s something you could do for me.”
Eros stepped closer, eager now to make it up to her. “Yeah?”
Psyche jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “The water was meant for these two flowerbeds.”
Surprised that the request wasn’t a more personal one—though he really didn’t know what he had expected—he nodded quickly. “Sure. I’ll take care of it.”
She started walking away from him.
“I’m Eros by the way,” he called after her.
“Thanks, Eros,” she said and kept walking without glancing back.
Moments later he watched her get into a beat-up old pickup truck parked on the street. The engine sputtered, showing signs of not wanting to comply with its owner’s wishes. Eros was about to run out there and offer his help, when the engine finally came to life and Psyche drove off.
Once she was out of sight, Eros flicked his wrist in the direction of the flowerbeds and used his godly powers to water the plants.
“You are so lazy,” Triton said from behind him.
Eros whirled around. “Look who’s talking. And if you finally called a plumber to fix the garden hose, this whole mess wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a decent plumber?” Triton retorted.
“Then why don’t you have the fairies do the job?” After all, they were the servants of the gods and could be summoned at a moment’s notice.
“Because Zeus doesn’t appreciate us taking advantage of our privileges when residing in the mortal world. You know that.”
Eros marched toward the house and Triton followed him. “Let’s not talk about the old man. Nothing good’ll come of it. So, I haven’t seen you all week. We should hang out tonight.”
“Sorry, but Sophia and I have a dinner party to go to.”
“Hmm,” Eros hummed to himself.
When he reached the balcony, where Hermes and Dionysus were waiting, he made the same offer to them. “Who wants to go out drinking tonight?”
Dionysus bent down and lifted Thoas into his arms. Eros hadn’t even noticed the kid earlier. “Sorry, can’t. I’m watching Thoas all day and evening. Ari has wine tasting classes at the shop.”
Eros shrugged and motioned to Hermes. “Guess it’s just you and me then, huh, buddy?”
Hermes threw up his hands and grimaced with regret. “Wish I could, but there’s an event for the faculty tonight, and now that Penny is tenured, we can’t really make excuses. And Hera is watching Panos.”
Panos, or Pan for short, was Hermes’ and Penny’s six month old son.
“Hera is babysitting? You’re kidding me.”
Hermes shrugged. “She can be nice when she wants to.”
“She’s only nice when she wants something. And for Hades’ sake, when did you all become so boring? You’re no fun anymore.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Triton protested, grinning. “I’m having a lot of fun.”
Hermes smirked and added, “Tons of hot, sweaty fun.”
Dio laughed. “Yep, same here.”
All of a sudden Thoas clapped his hands. “Hottttt, sweaty funnnnnn!” he babbled, giggling and rocking in his father’s arms.
Dio rolled his eyes. “Crap, Hermes, see what you did now. This time, Ari is really gonna kill me.”
“Crap, Hermes,” Thoas repeated.
Eros rolled his eyes. He had to get out of here. And he knew exactly where to find a little distraction that didn’t involve kids or boring friends. “I’m going to pay Hades a visit.”
5
After tossing and turning on the lumpy couch in the small office at the back of her flower shop half the night, Psyche woke up barely rested. At least the gym was only a few blocks away, and she was lucky not to run into anybody she knew, before she looked presentable. She showered and did her hair, then grabbed a coffee and a pastry from Vivian’s Cafe, one of her favorite coffee shops in town. She strolled along Main Street, eating her pastry and looking at the display windows of the still-closed stores.
The air was crisp, but she liked mornings like this. Few people were out, and those who were, were generally in a hurry to get either to work or to school. She seemed to be the only one who took her time looking around and admiring the well-kept store facades. She loved this town, but if her business didn’t turn around soon and start producing income, she’d be forced to sell not only her shop but also her condo—losing money on both—and move somewhere cheaper. It would be a shame. She’d made a few friends here, and she enjoyed the mild climate and laid-back coastal lifestyle.
Psyche sighed and took another sip from her coffee as she turned a corner and walked down a short cobblestone alley meant only for pedestrians and bicyclists. She dodged a bike messenger who sped past her so fast she would have spilled her coffee had it not been covered by a lid.
“Ugh!” she grunted. But before she could get annoyed at him, he’d already turned into the next street. “Not worth it.”
Just like getting all pissed off at Triton’s acquaintance with the odd name the day before hadn’t been worth it. She wouldn’t even have argued with him, had he immediately admitted that it was his fault. But when he’d started blaming her, she’d seen red. It was just further proof of what she’d always known: good-looking men were jerks. Because of their looks they thought they didn’t need to be courteous. And Eros was very good-looking. And she’d been only too aware of how terrible she’d looked in contrast: dirty, sweaty, and, thanks to Eros, wet. At least on him the wet part had looked good—as if he were a male model posing in the rain, his well-fitted clothes pasted to his toned body, leaving no doubt in anybody’s mind as to what he looked like naked.
Psyche fanned herself and tossed her empty coffee cup in a trash container. She hadn’t had thoughts like these about a man in ages. Maybe she’d simply gone without sex for so long that even somebody as arrogant as Eros became attractive. What had his parents been thinking when naming their son after a god? No wonder he’d turned out to be arrogant and self-centered.
“Morning, Psyche!”
At the greeting, Psyche turned her head and waved over the low fence to the old woman who sat on the porch of the small cottage. “Morning, Mrs. Lloyd. How are you?”
The woman’s gaze strayed to the empty chair next to her and she forced a smile. “I’m alright.” She pointed to a plate of cookies. “Would you like one? Freshly baked this morning.”
Psyche opened the gate and let herself in. “You must have been up early.”
Mrs. Lloyd offered the plate, and Psyche took a cookie, though she vowed to save it for the afternoon.
“You know, since Albert’s gone, I keep waking up earlier and earlier.” She shrugged, pushing away the sad expression that swept across her kind face. “But enough about me. How are you doing?”
Psyche smiled kindly. Despite still grieving for her beloved husband who’d died two months earlier, Mrs. Lloyd was always interested in how other people were coping with their problems. Taking a page out of the old lady’s playbook, Psyche said cheerfully, “Business is picking up. And the work in the condo is coming along nicely.” Both statements were white lies.
“Oh, that’s good news. I’m so happy for you.” Mrs. Lloyd beamed, genuine joy for somebody else’s fortune lighting up her face.
“Thank you, that’s so sweet of you.” Hating that she had lied, but glad that at least it had cheered up Mrs. Lloyd, she added, “Well, I’d better get to the shop.”
“You do that, Psyche. Oh, and next week, I’ll see you at the cemetery, right?”
Psyche nodded. “Yes, I haven’t forgotten. I’ll take care of the plants on the grave.”
“Thank you, Psyche. Albert always liked your flowers.” Tears brimmed in the old woman’s eyes as she remembered her husband.
“Next week then. And thank you for the cookie.”
As she left, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for Mrs. Lloyd. She’d lost the man she’d been with for over forty years, and her financial situation didn’t look great. Though her husband had a decent pension, it had been halved after his death. In addition, now Mrs. Lloyd had all the expenses that came with maintaining a grave. And her pride wouldn’t allow her to let the grave just sit there without flowers. She wanted to make sure that everybody, particularly her dead husband, knew how much she’d loved him.
