“Who cares?” he said cupping her face. “It’s a beautiful night. I’ll walk you home from here.” Closing her eyes, Sarah anticipated his kiss, but it never came. Instead he did as he had promised. Walked her home. It was only a few blocks and he walked slowly, seeming very contemplative the entire time, saying next to nothing as they strolled while thwarting Sarah’s attempts to initiate conversation with a fleeting chuckle or monosyllabic answer.
With her building in sight, Sarah couldn’t help but wonder why they’d had more physical contact at the club than he seemed to want to have with her now. There’d be a quick goodbye at the door, maybe a kiss on the cheek. See you next weekend he’d say. Maybe he’d call her in the middle of the week like he had Thursday. It was all so iffy.
“Sarah?” Ashton asked for the half a dozenth time
Shaking her head she tried to focus on him, “Huh?”
“I’m glad you came with me tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah, me too,” she smiled. He was holding her hands looking handsome and very awkward. This kind of thing was exactly what sent her running from most men, that feeling that you were more like their mother than their lover, that guessing whether they’d take you to bed or if you’d have to drag them there and that wondering if it was their mothers they thought about when they were there. But nice guy was a peculiar cloak to wear. On a nice guy it was drab, ordinary, but when a bad boy donned his nice guy cloak, it was irresistible, magnetic. She moved in. There would be a kiss tonight, if she had to draw it from his lips herself.
Ashton responded, tightening his arms around her waist and relaxing his posture. At the last second he dodged her lips. A soft press against her cheek. She sighed. Then, without warning, his grip tightened. The length of his forearm was along her spine, his fingers caressing the nape of her neck. Cheek to cheek he held her as he whispered, “Sarah?” questioningly into her ear. She couldn’t speak, there wasn’t enough air left in her lungs. Instead she craned her neck rolling her head against his feeling, the fresh stubble poking through his porcelain skin while the woodsy smell of his cologne alerted her senses. “I don’t think I’m ready for this date to end. That is if you have no objections?”
She hadn’t any objections and if she had she wouldn’t have been able to make them. Ashton had caught her completely off guard. Loosening his grip, he met her eyes, waiting for a reply. “Would you like to come up for coffee or a night cap?”
“I’d like that,” he smiled hooking her arm and walking her to the door. “Allow me.” Swinging the door open, he caught the small of her back as she walked through and took his position gracefully by her side in the lobby. The night guard tipped his hat to her as they approached the elevator banks. Her stomach felt as if she were eighteen, trying to sneak a guy into the house past her parents. Every step was like a fire whistle blowing in her ear. Even inside the elevator Ashton kept tight to her side.
Commenting on the sparse dotting of doorways on her floor, Sarah seemed to impress him when she ended his confusion by explaining they were on the penthouse level. He gave a little whistle accompanied by a quick face. He held her wrap as she fumbled for the keys. When she finally managed to control her shaking enough to turn the key, he politely hung her garment up inside. Her bag and keys were placed on a side table near the entrance. “Well,” she announced, stepping in and holding up her arms, “this is my apartment.”
Ashton’s eyes never left her. “Nice place.”
Feeling her temperature change, Sarah hated to imagine her cheeks stained crimson and how foolish she must look. “Please,” she said nervously, “come in, make yourself comfortable.” She patted the back of a chair as he approached her, his stare still very intense, half to direct him, half to keep herself standing. “Can I get you something?”
Without replying he walked up to her, never breaking eye contact. “No,” he smiled when he was finally toe to toe with her. Smoothly he stepped to her right, finally looking around at the apartment and making himself at home in the chair which Sarah was still using for balance.
It took several seconds for the message to move reached her feet, but Sarah did attempt to dart into the kitchen. A cool drink of water, maybe some ice down her shirt, that ought to calm her down, but before she could do more than pivot in the correct direction, Ashton had her by the wrist, pulling her to him, until she was on his lap in the chair, even with his eyes again, breathless, yet her chest heaved. “I have everything I need,” he said as he traced the side of her face with his long, thin, well manicured fingers.
His mouth was warm, sweet with liquor. His lips were soft and that struck her as they kissed because so few men took care of their lips. Unlike her former suitors, his hands didn’t roam, but touched her purposefully. His right arm stroked her face and neck, making her melt into him. His left slung low over her hip to balance her. She’d meant to kiss him back, but she was so caught up in the way his lips felt and the smooth caress of his tongue against hers she did little more than breath a soft moan and sink the fingers of her right hand into his hair.
Seemingly unflappable, he continued his patient manipulation of her even as Sarah’s will power crumbled. Not only had she begun to return his kiss, but they’d been at it less than five minutes when she stretched over him and straddled his lap. She kissed him harder then, asserting herself and he entertained her for the time being by simultaneously entertaining himself with two generous handfuls of her rear. When he thought she’d had enough fun, he grabbed tight below her backside, along her inner thigh. Sarah moaned as he stood up with her, impressed at his strength, but then he tenderly stood her up, composed himself and asked, “Dance with me?”
Confused she ran her fingers through her hair avoiding his eyes which only moments ago seemed to say that this was what he wanted, that she, was what he wanted. “Um, OK.” She went to the CD rack. “What are you up for?”
Following, he looked over her shoulder. Sarah had been out of circulation for some time, but not so long that she didn’t know a few tricks. Her picture of Tim, her wedding bands, anything with puppies and kittens on it, anything that had polyfil shoved in and hearts sewn on the washing instruction tag had all been packed neatly in a Rubbermaid storage container and slide in the closet between two bins of winter clothes. Among them several aptly named chick flicks, her copy of the Labyrinth and a stack of CDS ranging from Air Supply’s Greatest Hits to Billy Ray Cyrus’s debut album. Achy Breaky Heart was not date music.
Smiling wide, she was patting herself on the back for thinking ahead. “Don’t you have anything softer?” he asked kissing her neck and ruining the celebration she had going in her mind.
“I guess I just like music you can really move to,” she countered.
“You can move to anything, if you know how,” he winked. Slipping a CD out of it’s spot on the rack, he slid it into the stereo and pressed the forward button a few times. What came from the speakers was far from a slow song, but as he pulled her into his arms, Sarah forgot to care.
Sail away, sail away with me
I don’t have a ship
But we could get one easily
Drift away, drift away with me
On the raft we’ll make of memories
On an ocean we can call forever more
He held her close, as if they were about to walk through one another. Even though the music was on the fast side he moved slowly, his thigh between hers and vice versa, rock left, sway right. A gentle friction was building between their bodies and it suddenly felt hotter in her own living room than it had at Neo. His left hand held her right hand lightly. He trailed kisses over her knuckles and looked her square in the eye when he caught her watching him. Moving his hand to the center of her shoulders he encouraged her to lie her head next to his. “See that, any song can be a slow song,” he whispered.
I want to find
A piece of your mind
I want to see
Your make believe
I don’t want to try so hard
I make it hard for you to breathe
Jump into the ocean
Living on a notion
If you’re caught up in the motion
Back track and do it again
And if you make it up
I could never get enough
Me and you together
But you’ve gotta tell me where to begin
Break away, break away from me
No forget that, just sit here and look at me
Summer’s day
Summer every day
And we watch the sunset come back up
And somehow know it never goes back down
“It’s getting late,” Ashton said as he kissed her hair. “ I should go.”
“Do you have to?” she asked weakly.
“No Sarah,” he said slowly, deeply, more deeply than she’d heard him speak before. “I can give you anything you want.”
“Excuse me,” she stumbled, sure she’d heard him wrong.
“I can stay if you want.”
Pulling him close so he wouldn’t see the dazed expression in her eyes, Sarah admitted, “I do, Ashton. I want you to stay.” She hugged him desperately, like any moment he might disappear. Ashton responded with a tight embrace of his own.
“You alright?” he asked warily when he felt her trembling.
“Fine, I just, well I haven’t…” Looking out her balcony Sarah confessed, “I’m divorced and this…you, are the first real date I’ve had in seven years.”
“I’m honored.”
Sarah chuckled and gave him a half hearted nod.
“No really, I’m honored. I mean think of the circumstances that brought us to this very moment. First some horrible man had to let you go, then years of regret later he had to have the decency not to beg for you back. In the interim, all attractive men in a five hundred mile radius had to steer clear of you or develop some grossly unforgivable hygiene habits, drug addictions, or physical mutations to keep the most beautiful and intriguing woman I have ever met on the market until fate could bring me to her. It’s a miracle I found you at all.”
Swaying in his arms, now oblivious to what was playing on the radio, Sarah couldn’t help think that he had a way with words. Even her best friend could barely get out two words about Tim before she got grumpy and defensive, yet a total stranger had managed all that and still had her attention as sharply as a spinning gold coin in the hands of a skilled magician.
“You don’t even realize it do you?”
“Realize what?” she asked.
“How beautiful you are. Not just this body,” he explained sliding his hand over her hips and up her sides, “but this soul,” he indicated, drawing his right hand across her collar bone. “Inside and out, you are the most stunning creature I have ever seen.”
At the compliment Sarah’s mouth gapped slightly. She hadn’t heard words like those in as long as she could remember, but Ashton’s kiss kept her from thinking back very far. She could taste stale Marlboro smoke lingering. It should have turned her off. It should have had that whole licking an ashtray effect, but instead she found herself kissing him back with an eagerness she didn’t know she had. When Ashton trailed his whispered kisses over her neck, Sarah could still taste him in her mouth and it was completely exhilarating.
A gentle puff of air accompanied the sides of her skirt as they fell back, Ashton had undone the knot. Suddenly those boots she had on felt like lead. She couldn’t move. There was little doubt where this was going. Fear ran through her like ice water in her veins. It had been ages since she’d been with a man, none of who had come off with half the experience Ashton seemed to have. While she stood, panic stricken, expert hands smoothed over her skin. Swimming mismatched eyes held hers and before she knew what was happening, she was swept up, like a feather in the wind and she was floating, slowly up the stairs to the second story of her loft. The whole time seeing only those eyes.
When he lie her on the bed, she hitched a breath. “Ashton,” she whispered.
He stood at the foot of her bed, kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his shirt. Stopping the slow roam his eyes made over her body, Ashton snapped his attention to her face, “Yes Sarah.”
Liquid, his voice was warm and rolling over her like a sudden increase in humidity. “I haven’t been..with..”
“Sssh,” he said softly, looming over her. Supporting his weight on one arm, his other hand unlaced her corset. “You don’t have to make apologies, Sarah. All you have to do is tell me when you want me to stop.”
Through his open shirt Sarah saw his defined chest. Lightly cut in, not too bulky, smooth on the edges, a patch of trimmed wispy hairs in the center. Her fingers trolled over Ashton’s chest lightly. Maybe it was years of abstinence talking but something seemed right about him being here about their being together. Her fist filled with his lapel and she pulled him toward her. Kissing him hard. Ashton’s arm slid around her pulling her up to him. With his free arm, he tugged the corset loose from her ribs.
Laying her back, Ashton took her in. Sleek, smooth, blushed skin, shimmering in the moonlight that snuck around the curtains. Shrugging his shoulders he got rid of his shirt. His cologne rose up in a cloud and filled Sarah’s nose. He smelled so good. The way he looked at her made Sarah nervous, she was glad when his head dipped to her neck. She could feel the points of his eye teeth cold against her skin as he nibbled the cove of her shoulder, along her collarbone. His tongue trailed down her breastbone making her nipples go hard with anticipation.
Not wanting to waste her excitement, Ashton took the taut pink mound of her left breast into his mouth, sucking gently at first. Sarah arched into him and he increased the pressure, coupling it with a delightful manipulation with the tip of his tongue. As he switched to her right breast, Sarah felt his hand slip beneath the waistband of her skirt. When he saw the nervousness return to her face, Ashton distracted her by nibbling on her nipple. Sarah moaned and arched against him.
Beneath her skirt, he could feel a ring of lace just above her bare rump. Using both hands now he eased the waistband over her hips and slowly downward until the set of garters Sarah wore was revealed to him. Black, lace strands that held her stockings up over her thighs. “Very nice,” he remarked, bowing his head to her stomach and covering it with soft kisses. Sarah could feel the pounding of blood accumulating in her sex as his mouth sunk lower and the disappoint of cool air filling the void as Ashton drew back. Eyes locked with hers he watched her reaction to his sliding one finger beneath the narrowing point of her black thong. Finding her wet and ready, he massaged her lightly. First the apex of her mound and then the tight skin around her opening. Her eyes went wide when he slid his finger inside her. He knew he would need to be gentle with her.
Propped on her elbows Sarah challenged his gaze. Ashton was impressed. She could see by the arch of his brow that he welcomed her attention. She watched him working her, his own excitement apparent beneath the fabric of his pants. The more aggressive he became the harder her chest heaved. He spread her legs some before slipping a second finger inside her. Sarah threw back her head and pressed against his hand with an appreciative sigh. When she was no longer watching he slipped the thong over to one side and lowered his mouth to her engorged folds.
His tongue was as steady there as it had been in her mouth, lapping gently but firmly against the bundle of nerves between her lips, those cold teeth challenging her tender flesh, that sweet suction she remembered from having him at her breast.
Backing away, he let some of the sensation fade before he licked at her opening, tracing it firmly with the point of his tongue in concentric circles until he slipped inside her for the final revolution as Sarah groaned and bucked her hips. Her eyes closed and her body pleaded for release. She felt Ashton spreading her thighs wide, the bed shifting as he moved between her knees. How he managed to slip out of his pants didn’t matter when she felt his shaft stroking steadily between her folds.
His hand squeezed her around him and she could feel his full length pressing against her. Patiently he waited for her to arch again, then caught the small of her back with his left arm, his right hand guided his rigid member to her opening as he lie her back. Sarah felt him at her opening, pressing but not penetrating. ‘Oh God,’ she thought, ‘he’s leaving it up to me.’
Panicked, she hid her shock by pulling his head to her and kissing him quickly. Between her teeth, she took Ashton’s lips, the taste of his cigarette like an aphrodisiac. The hand which steadied him at her entrance stroked her mound. Surprising herself, Sarah slid down over his tip and moaned into his open mouth. With amazing muscle control he slipped in and out of her a few times, just that initial half inch of him. Sarah bit Ashton’s lip as her excitement grew. She knew he’d slip inside her fully when he thought she was ready and she’d come the minute he did, but he tormented her with when that would be.
Giving no warning, he sunk in her to his hilt and felt the vibrations of her orgasm. Eyes open wide as the sensation ravaged her, Sarah saw a tiny earring in his left ear. She’d read something in Cosmo about a piercing stimulating nerves that otherwise couldn’t be reached and began nibbling his ear. At her eager advance, Ashton began a slow thrusting. Sarah flung her legs around his waist. The cool leather stuck to his flesh and he moved a little more quickly. When she took his ear lobe in her mouth and worked the tiny hoop side to side, she felt him tighten up. Grabbing her backside he sunk into her harder. Sarah’s head flew back and his teeth sank into her exposed neck. She rose up to meet his every thrust, a sweet friction coming between them that brought her back to the brink.
Ashton held her tightly to him as he approached his release, desperate for her. His thrust faster and deeper each time until almost simultaneously they met each other in an explosion of sensation that swept them both away. Sarah felt their mixing hot fluids rush through her and dug into his bare back with a cry of ecstasy. He lie perfectly still within her for a moment and then as she eased up, he lie her back and jerked the muscles which controlled his member, pushing them against her sensitive walls causing a microburst of sensation to ravage her. His hands pushed her wild hair back from her face as he withdrew and fell to her side, cupping her cheek and kissing her tenderly.
***** ***** *****
Sarah awoke to the smell of coffee and cigarettes. Looking at the sheet gathered around her near naked form she was instantly reminded of what had happened last night. “Well good morning,” Ashton sang as he came upstairs with two steaming mugs of coffee, cigarette hanging out of the right side of his mouth. Sarah smiled weakly. “No sense getting shy on me now,” he said when she pulled the sheets to her neck. He handed her the mug and set his on the bedside table. Relaxing some, Sarah plucked a glass coaster off her night stand and handed it to him for an ashtray. The coffee was too hot for her to hold so she set it down where the coaster had been. Ashton crawled in bed beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Sarah let her cheek rest against his bare chest. “You know, you had no reason to be nervous last night,” he told her.
“Wish I could say the same about this morning,” she chuckled.
“Ah post coital paranoia,” he laughed taking a drag off his cigarette. “Well I think you’re just as beautiful right now as you were last night.” He blew the smoke in the opposite direction from her, then lifted her chin and gave her a reassuring peck on the lips.
“Thank you,” she yawned settling into him. It almost disturbed Sarah to feel so comfortable around someone, “but I feel terrible for falling asleep on you. I don’t even remember taking my boots off.”
“I did that. After we made love you fell asleep in my arms, I watched you for a little while, then I thought you looked terribly uncomfortable so I took off your boots and your hose and that sexy garter and then I wrapped my arms around you again and slept like I haven’t slept in weeks.”
“You took off all that, but left my panties?” she asked with a broad grin.
Ashton dragged his cigarette again, “I was trying to be a gentleman.” He craned his neck when he blew the smoke out this time forming a trail of tiny circles. One encircled Sarah’s head. “Look at that,” he laughed, “I made you my Queen. Sarah my queen,” he repeated trying to kiss her again.
“What did you call me?” she asked defensively.
Ashton looked at her in total confusion, “ I called you my queen Sarah, like a goddess, a paragon of women, it was a compliment.”
“Right, sorry, I’m edgy when I don’t have coffee before,” she strained to look over her shoulder at the clock. 10:45. “Jesus Christ!” she said jumping out of bed “I didn’t realize it was that late.”
Rolling on his stomach he watched her flit around the room cleaning up. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Next boyfriend due any minute.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she ranted balling up her clothes and boots and tossing them in the cupboard. “I don’t have any other boyfriends. My sister - in - law, well my brother’s fiancé is due here in fifteen minutes and well, I don’t want to have to explain anything to her.”
She was still tidying when she felt his arms encircle her, the cold metal zipper of his pants against her abdomen making her realize she hadn’t gotten dressed yet. “I’m glad,” Ashton announced running his hands along her arms.
‘What?’ her face asked.
“I’m glad you don’t have any other boyfriends. I don’t want to have to share you.” His palm caught the back of her head as her neck went limp and he kissed her passionately. “Now, you get cleaned up and dressed, and I,” he told her taking the pile of stockings from her hands, “will tidy up and void your apartment of all evidence I was ever here.”
Kissing his chest, then his chin, Sarah admitted, “I don’t think that’s possible.”
Playfully he slapped her backside, “Get going.”
***** ***** *****
She emerged in jeans and a flattering blue tank with lace trim, hair looking tussled and a light splash of powder over her crimson cheeks. From over the railing she saw Ashton washing the coaster he’d used as an ashtray. He couldn’t be as perfect as he seemed, surely he had a flaw, but Sarah didn’t want to bother looking for it. She wasn’t thinking about marriage again, not now, maybe never. She was just thinking that she was lucky to have found such a considerate man to be the first to make love to her since her husband. Remembering how he’d told her “After we made love…” forced a smile that Sarah quickly shook off when the buzzer rang.
“Ms. Williams,” the guard said into the PA.
Depressing the talk button she replied, “Yes.”
“A Miss Farthingale to see you.”
“I’ll be right down.”
“That’s my cue,” the now fully dressed Ashton said as he jaunted for the door, a piece of wheat toast hanging from his teeth. Removing the toast, he kissed her at the door. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, breakfast is in the kitchen.”
“What?” she asked disbelieving.
“You heard me,” he said opening the door and pulling her through with him. “I whipped up a little something to keep your energy up.” Smirking he popped the last bite of his toast into his mouth and pushed the button for the elevator. When it arrived, he looked around shiftily and shoved Sarah inside against the wall. Stretching, he pressed the lobby button. Then while one hand held her arms above her head, he slid the other up the side of her shirt and along the rim of her demi bra against her breast. Then he stood off to her left side and straightened his shirt. “Really woman, straighten up,” he smiled devilishly at the shock on Sarah’s face.
Sarah wiped at the corner’s of her lips and pulled the bottom of her tank back into place as the elevator reached the lobby. Shooting a coy look out the corner of her eyes at Ashton, she exited upon his command of “Ladies first.”
They split company a few feet from Rowan. “G’day miss,” he said, tipping his head in her direction. She tried to bite back the grin, but failed miserably.
“Do you know him?” Rowan asked with a rumpled look of confusion noticing the way Sarah watched him walking away.
Sarah shook her head, “He rode down in the elevator with me.” It wasn’t a lie.
“You should ask him to the wedding?”
How uncomfortable? “Ah,” Sarah sighed, taking note of the rolling shopping bag behind Rowan, “speaking of the wedding, why not come upstairs and we’ll get started.” She took the cart from Rowan and started back towards the elevators when she noticed one of the guards from last night at the security desk. He must have worked a double. Sarah blushed bright red when he failed to resist flashing a knowing smile in her direction.
***** ***** *****
Rowan stepped inside with a gasp, her hand fluttering about her neck, “Oh your place is gorgeous!”
“It’s home,” Sarah said humbly, dragging the cart over the metal strip on the floor of the door frame. “Can I get you something to drink? I was just about to have bre…unch,” she corrected looking at the clock.
“Do you have anything organic?” Rowan asked.
Sarah stepped in the kitchen noticing the plate on the counter. An omelet, two sprigs of basil making an X next to the O of an olive slice on top. Nibbling on the olive, she hid her glee by reading off the contents of her fridge. “I’ve got eggs, tomatoes, half of an onion, half of a green pepper, some left over turkey Tetrazzini and some crab dip I wouldn’t take a chance on if I was you.”
“Just some juice then,” Rowan requested, rolling her eyes where Sarah couldn’t see.
“Apple or cranberry?” Sarah asked.
“Neither,” her guest refused when she saw both were bottled juices from concentrate. “I’ll just have water.” Sarah pitched her a Dasani from the door and pulled a fork out of the drawer for her omelet. “Egg yolks are filled with cholesterol,” Rowan said absent mindedly as Sarah took her first bite.
It was filled with onions, green pepper, olives and chunks of ham. That explained where her leftovers from Wednesday’s dinner had gone. It was delicious. Fluffy and cheesy. “Well, what can I say?” Defiantly she stuffed another bite into her mouth, “I love cholesterol.”
“I’m just trying to look out for you. I went through the same things with your brother when we went all organic.” Grabbing the cart from the entryway, Rowan made herself at home, spreading things all over the dining table.
Sarah joined her there, omelet in tow. ‘She’s a fine one to talk,’ Sarah thought. After all, it seemed since she and Toby had gotten the house, Rowan had packed on an organic pound or two herself. “Well you won’t convert me,” Sarah announced proudly. “Not until Giordano’s makes an organic deep dish special with extra organic cheese and organic sausage and California starts bottling an organic wine to wash it down with.” Like a rebellious teenage who’d made a valid point in an argument with her parents, Sarah smiled contentedly, tucking her knees up to her chest. “So tell me what you’ve got and we’ll put it all together.”
Without realizing it, she was suddenly very into the planning of this wedding. Perhaps it had been her time with Ashton had done more to brighten her spirits then she admitted at first. But as she looked out at the sea of papers, fabrics, clippings and configurations masking the clear glass table top, she felt a pang in her chest. A desire to see her little brother happy and not from the sidelines, but knee deep in the heart of whatever would bring him joy, even if she didn’t necessarily agree with him. This was her Toby, her dear sweet little Toby who she had grown to love, who she had invented worlds with, who she had mothered and raised and he couldn’t possibly get married without her, it was unthinkable.
Rowan opened a planner and began her explanation. “Catering is taken care of. Location is chosen. Mostly we need to arrange decoration, favors, that sort of thing. The touches,” she smiled. From under a book of fabric samples she hefted aside, Rowan produced a piece of fabric. “This will be my dress,” she said. “I know it doesn’t look like much here, but when it’s tailored it looks great. I wanted to bring it with me, but they’re seaming in the bustle.”
Snatching the swatch from her hand, Sarah examined the silvery white satin. “I know where I can get some tulle that’s got silver glitter in it and white lace. We’ll twist it roughly,” she demonstrated with some of the other fabrics on the table, “and braid it through a trellis.”
“Where are we going to find a trellis this late?” Rowan asked.
“Leave that to me. I can get a aisle runner too and I’ll get silver ribbons to make a decoration for the inside row of chairs.” Her thoughts were taking off so quickly, she didn’t notice the way she kept smoothing her hand over the fabric of the dress. Inspiration seemed to seduce her until she was coming up with easily a dozen ideas on how to embellish the wedding. “A carriage! I bet I can get you a carriage, an all white carriage, led by two all white horses. Would you like that?”
Beaming, Rowan nodded. Were those tears welling in her eyes? And why was Sarah feeling so happy to please this stranger, essentially. “I can’t think of anything more like a fairytale than that.”
“Look, if you like all these ideas, then leave it to me. Let me take care of everything and you go back to worrying if the green beans in the almandine will be organic.”
“Do you mean it?” Rowan asked. “Oh that would be a relief. I mean there is so much to do what with the fittings and the hair appointments, the caterer calling every day insisting I’m being impossible when I say we need flan for twenty.”
“You’re having wedding flan?”
“Yes.” She seemed surprised by Sarah’s inquiry. “It’s far more healthy than cake.”
“I suppose it is.”
“Is there something wrong with having flan?”
“No Rowan,” she soothed, “it’ll be perfect along with everything else. Now, I’ve got decorations, transportation and party favors coming. You say there’ll be twenty, that shouldn’t be too hard. You’ve got catering, dress, hair and location covered. I assume the two of you have purchased rings?”
“They should be back at the jeweler’s Tuesday. They’re being sized and engraved.”
“Flowers?”
“Don’t you think that’s unnecessary?” Rowan commented.
Sarah feigned shock, “But what will us single women clamor for as you ride off with your prince charming, if not that bouquet. I’ll take care of that too. Is there anything you’re allergic to?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Music!” Sara exclaimed.
“We’ve got a few instrumental CDs that will play softly as the ceremony takes place. One of Toby’s friends has a twenty CD unit with shuffle feature.”
As important as music was to Sarah she was shocked at Rowan’s solution, “Let me hire you a band or a DJ, something more than a CD player.”
“I can’t impose.”
Shaking her head, Sarah swore it was no imposition. “So we’re set.” She began packing up most of what was on the table but fumbled with the dress swatch. “May I keep this?” she asked. “For matching colors to.”
Rowan nodded her consent and then gasped. “Sarah, your dress! I’ve forgotten all about your dress.”
“Oh I’ll find something.”
“No, no, no there’s already a dress. I’ve been meaning to arrange a fitting for you, but well, we had a rough go at first getting to know each other.”
“So you picked my dress already?” she asked warily.
Lifting a blue satin box Rowan handed it to Sarah. “Go on.”
Opening it, Sarah found a dozen or so sachets inside. They were overwhelming at first and reminded her of Christmas even though they smelled nothing like cinnamon. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what the scent was. “For the wedding?”
“Not exactly,” Rowan told her, “more like for you for helping me with the wedding. I make crafts on the side for extra money, they’re just some sachets. Drop them in your bureaus or in a bowl on the coffee table. They’ll make a huge difference.”
“I’ll do that,” Sarah promised putting the box aside with the swatch of dress fabric.
“It’s also the color of your dress.”
The box was deep blue, like a clear sky just after a storm and it had been dusted in a glitter to make it shimmer. “Not bad,” she admitted. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”
“You’re going to look sensational,” Rowan promised. “It’s sleeveless, the bodice is cut into a diamond shape and it ties around the neck.” As her hands drew beneath her hair to imitate the neckline a medallion made it’s way free of the V in her shirt.
“That’s interesting,” Sarah noted, reaching for it instinctively as if it were going to fall or something. It was a circle with another circle inside it and inside that circle a sun.
Tucking it back inside her shirt Rowan brushed off the intrigue, “Just some trinket of my mothers. Anyway your dress, it’s quite form fitting,” her eyelids batted. “Sleek to compliment your figure.”
“It doesn’t sound like it fits the fairytale theme you’re trying for.”
“Maybe not exactly, but, oh I feel selfish even thinking this,” Rowan pouted.
Sarah’s eyebrows jumped to the center of her forehead, “Thinking what?”
“Well you’re so beautiful that, oh,” she looked away, “if we put you in a spectacular gown well, no one’s going to notice me at all.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said embracing her soon to be in law. “Everyone notices the bride.” As she made small circles on Rowan’s back she wondered how she’d gotten to the point where the physical contact didn’t annoy her. Perhaps Ashton had lifted her spirits to impossible heights.
Rowan sat back, still holding Sarah’s hands as excited as an adolescent with a new puppy. “Tell me what it was like.”
“Well,” Sarah begin, already her eyes clouding with reverie, “I was so young then and nervous, dear God was I nervous. I can remember Laney was helping me pin on my veil and my hands were shaking so bad the ribbon in my bouquet was rustling loud enough to drown out a jet.”
“No, not that.” Sarah rumpled her brow in confusion. “The Underground. Toby says it was the best fairytale he’d ever heard. He said you made it very real for him. Well he and I are about to begin our own fairytale and I want to make sure I meet his expectations. Tell me about the Underground and what made it seem so romantic to him.”
“That was all an adolescent fantasy, something I drummed up to keep my mind off my divorced parents, my long distance mother, my witch of a step mother and her brand new screaming infant. It was all make believe.” Sarah took her plate to the kitchen, tossing it a little too abruptly into the sink and taking a chip out of the rim. “Why would you base your marriage on that?”
“Oh Sarah,” Rowan followed her. “Let me make us some tea.”
Handing her a kettle, she watched as Rowan filled it and set it on the stove. “I have some herbal teas in my purse,” she offered.
“Does Toby still bring it up?”
“What dear?”
“That story, does he still talk about it?”
“Now and again I suppose. He mentions a bit here or there, but it’s always the same parts and always ends with, ‘It all seemed so romantic.’ Then he boasts about how you could tell it by heart far better than he could. If it upsets you,” she wagered as she filled two tea cups, “we can talk about something else. I just thought that it might be nice to know my husband’s favorite fairytale, maybe incorporate a piece of it in our story.”
“I told you,” she took her cup from Rowan and curled up in her living room chair, “it was all just a fantasy. None of it was real. How can you incorporate it if it wasn’t real.”
“Ah,” she smiled over the rim of her tea as she sat facing Sarah, “but isn’t it nice to just believe we can still have a little fantasy left in our lives? Doesn’t the mere thought of something following through your childhood into your adult years comfort you?”
“Not really,” Sarah said. Rowan’s face grew long. She wished she hadn’t developed this desire to help so much. “But if it will help you, if it will make Toby happy, I’ll tell you the story. Sipping her tea once more she allowed the rich herbal blend to relax her tightening muscles. There were no reasons why she couldn’t share the story. It was only a fairytale. Feeling foolish for being so defensive she began, “Once upon a time….”
Listening intently, Rowan sat motionless as Sarah began to weave the tale. It had occurred to her she could have just loaned this woman her book, but admitting she’d still had that thing was more than she was willing to do. As it was she felt herself really getting back into the story and that made her feel childish enough. Trying to remember how she imitated the voices of the goblins. “What no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl…”
“How?”
“Excuse me?”
Rowan cleared her throat and repeated the question. “How had the Goblin King fallen in love with her? They’d never met before? What made him fall in love with her?”
“I don’t know. It’s a fairytale and all fairytales involve someone falling in love with someone else. In this one it’s the Goblin King and the girl.” The romantic notion of retelling the story seemed to fade rather quickly. “He falls in love with her and he gives her certain magic.”
“What kind?”
Taking a deep cleansing breath, Sarah said, “I suppose it was her ability to call on him.” At that Rowan sat back, interested again, more willing to listen it seemed. “If she said the right words, then he would come to her. He would grant her wish. Offer her the dreams no one else knew about.”
“What was her wish?” Rowan’s voice was dry, raspy.
Sarah got the feeling they were around a camp fire late at night. “She wished her little brother away to him.”
“I can see why Toby was so frightened of this tale.”
“I went after him,” Sarah defended. Rowan raised her eyebrows. “In the story, the girl who wishes her brother away, she challenges the king. Denies her flights of fantasy, her dreams and agrees to work his labyrinth and win back the child he took.”
“What’s he like?”
It was all playing on a reel in her subconscious, a movie in her mind. “He was magical. Ethereal from head to toe, afraid to touch him for fear he’d disappear. A crown of feral blonde hair, bejeweled clothes, golden emblazoned eyes, mismatched. His hands hidden behind gloves, his boots rose to his knees. He wore breeches and doublets, capes and an amulet. A large, semicircular amulet. He could produce crystals at his command perched on his finger tips become anything he imagined, in less time than it took to blink. He was music when he spoke. He was the wind when he moved. Jareth.” The name but a whisper as it left her lips, struck her. She hadn’t said his name since she was still a girl. Sarah caught herself looking around fearful she’d summoned him somehow.
When she caught Rowan looking at her like she was crazy, Sarah found herself trying to hide the guilt behind frustration at all of Rowan’s questions. “Listen, I really don’t remember the story like I used to,” she lied. “He comes, the girl challenges him. She meets some little friends. They beat the labyrinth together and she defeats the king to get her baby brother back.” Jumping up, Sarah exclaimed, “My, look at the time. I really have a million things to do and 900,000 of them are for your wedding so, if you’ll excuse me.”
Rowan stood, “I’ll go with you. We’ll go to the boutique. You can try your dress.”
“Don’t we need an appointment?”
Cleaning up the cups she assured her, “They’ll make room for us.”
Even though Sarah rolled her eyes once, Rowan was safely in the kitchen, she did so knowing she was being unfair. Her night with Ashton had left her with a lot to think about. Not to mention the way Jareth’s memory kept slipping into her conscious had her on the edge. She wasn’t being fair. “Surely you remember more of the story than just that,” Rowan continued. Toby said it was filled with fantastic creatures and you had a host of voices you’d put on.”
“I…I really don’t remember.” Then quickly she held up a finger as if she’d had a recollection. “You know there was this sheepdog, this old English sheepdog. Why don’t you buy him one of those as a wedding gift. He’d love it. Toby loves dogs.” Sarah was now hustling Rowan over to her things and back toward the door.
“But…but I’m going to go with you,” she objected.
“Ah, no thank you, I want to surprise you with what I drum up. Please. This is the only wedding I’ll ever be asked to plan, let me surprise you.”
So as not to seem unappreciative Rowan relented. “At least come to the dress shop with me and fit for your dress before we part ways.”
“Dress shop, right.” Sarah grabbed her purse, rolling her eyes as she closed her apartment door.
***** ***** *****
Inside it was one of those wedding cliché disasters you’d expect to see at a theater. Little old women fawned over spoiled overgrown girls with pins sticking out of cushions strapped to their wrists and held in the corners of their mouths. Some lanky blonde made rounds with a silver tray bearing cucumber sandwiches and Perrier.
The blonde acknowledged Rowan by name and dipped at the knees offering her tray to them as they entered. Rowan readily accepted a sandwich while Sarah refused, wondering why her brother’s fiance was suddenly at a total disregard for the organic quality of her snacks. She saw Rowan waving madly for a silver headed woman in the furthest corner of the room, who immediately left the side of the bride she had been pinning and shuffled across the floor as if she’d been a yorkie who smelled bacon. The abandonned bride followed her with daggered eyes.
“Ms. Farthingale, I’m very sorry, but your gown is still being seamed. It won’t be ready until next week.”
“Yes, Marion I’m aware of that. This is my sister in law Sarah Williams. She’s here to try on her bridesmaid’s gown.”
“Right away Ms. Williams, right away. I’ve got a fitting room over here, if you ladies will just have a seat, I’ll retrieve your dress.”
“Excuse me,” the bride the assistant had left only a few moments earlier called out.
Marion rolled her eyes, “Get Polly to assist that one.” There was an arrogant edge in her voice.
“Right away,” said the blonde with the tray. She left the sandwiches on the counter and scampered off on the tips of her toes.
The women at the counter looked up when they clattered against the glass. “Hello Miss Farthingale,” she called. Smiling back and looping her arm through Sarah’s, Rowan dragged her into the fitting room. “I hope you like the dress.”
“We could have waited for her to finish,” Sarah said ignoring her brother’s fiancé.
“I don’t know why they’re so eager to make me happy here. It’s been this way since the first day I popped in.”
“Regardless, if you’d have told her to finish with her first customer I’m sure she would have complied.” Sarah was beginning to think her brother’s fiancé enjoyed being waited on hand and foot, even if it meant consuming a few non-organic sandwiches.
Before she could further object, Marion returned with the dress. “Here we are,” she declared hanging the pearl pink garment bag in the dressing room and tugging the zipper down. Turning, she stared at Sarah expectantly.
Raising her eyebrows, Sarah glanced from the attendant to Rowan and back, her facial contortions asking, ‘what?’ for her.
“I think she wants you to get undressed,” Rowan clarified.
Marion flapped the measuring tape hung around her neck, “I need to measure you.”
“Yeah, well I’m not used to getting undressed in front of strangers.”
“Oh honey,” the jovial old woman laughed, “you don’t have a thing I haven’t already seen in a dozen shapes and sizes.”
“Be that as it may,” Sarah conceded, “I have my way of doing things. Lifting her shirt over her head, she politely asked for the dress.
It was form fitting for sure, but about two sizes too large, making it easy for her to slip her jeans off while the long skirt concelled her from the waist down. While stunning, the dress was also very weighty. As Marion fastened the neck Sarah felt her head lob forward. Snapping back her shoulders, she admired the dress in the mirror. It was sleek for certain, but by being oversized, it looked completely shapeless.
“This isn’t a problem,” Marion assured her. “We’ll dart the sides,” she suggested gathering the excess matterial in the back. “When our seamstress is through it’ll look just like this, only even on the sides.”
The band around her neck eliminated the need for a necklace. From it began the top point of a diamond which streched from neck to waist, the full diamond covered in tiny set rhinestones, explaining why it felt so heavy. The waist tapered nicely combining with the bottom point of the diamond to make her look positively minute. The skirt smoothed over her hips and pooled at her ankles.
“You certainly are tall,” Marion commented while she knelt at Sarah’s feet pinning the hem. “Let me get you the shoes so I’m sure I’ve got that hem right.”
When they were alone, Rowan took advantage of the opportunity to ask Sarah what she thought of the dress. After giving it a spin, she had to admit the last half dozen trips to Neo had boosted her confidence enough to feel comfortable in it’s revealing shape and open back. “It’s really quite nice.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she beamed at Sarah.
“Wait until you see it with these.” The shoes were clear on top with a silver sole and heels three inches high. It wasn’t what Sarah had expected, but once she slid them on, the skirt covered the tacky plastic toe strap, making for a more put together look. In the back there still pooled a mini train of fabric.
“Does that need hemming?” Sarah asked jerking at what looked like a tail now that the waist had been cinched.
“No, it’s supposed to look like that, gives it a little oompf, don’t you think?”
“It’s really quite nice,” Sarah repeated.
“Alright,” Marion told her, “Careful slipping that off with the pins in place.”
The adjustments made descretion while removing the dress much more difficult than getting into it had been. Sarah gave up her dignity this time even if it meant the lace thong she’d selected in her hurry that morning would be flaunted before her future sister in law.
“I’m sorry Miss Farthingale,” Marion said tenatively. “We need to have the payoff prior to sending it for alterations.”
“Absolutely,” Rowan jumped up for her purse.
Sarah raised a hand halting her. “Please, let me.” From her back pocket she pulled out a Visa card and handed it to Marion.” The total cost of the dress did not go unnoticed. Naturally, every bride wants a special dress, the perfect dress, but knowing her brother’s financial situation and knowing a little of Rowan’s, it surprised her to see the woman purchasing a tailor made dress from the pink boutique.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Rowan chastized when the attendant had left.
“I appreciate you wanting to pay for the dress, but you and Toby need your money right now. It’s not a big deal. I want to.”
Throwing her arms around Sarah’s neck, Toby’s fiancé praised her generosity. “I don’t know what we would do without you.”
“Yeah well, what are sisters for?” she asked rhetorically.
***** ***** *****
It was another couple hours and a half pound of bean sprouts before Sarah managed to shake Rowan under the guise of wanting to look for wedding decoration without her around so it would be a surprise. In truth she intended to go home and order most of the wedding preparations online, at most a few phone calls. She still hadn’t had time to think about what had gone on between her and Ashton. It was nearly three in the afternoon and she hadn’t spent a moment alone.
Lakeshore drive was calling her name as it had a habit of doing when Sarah felt her most reflective. Crossing the bike trails she wandered along the dock toward the aquarium. Conditions were ideal for sailing and Lake Michigan was filled with sails. She could have counted the tied boats on one hand. There was Deanna Jeane and Cat Whisperer in adjacent spots. Then thirty feet away rocking in a most exaggerated way for such subtle waves was a tiny boat, one she thought might make her nervous in a bathtub let alone the lake. The paint was peeling, but it looked like it said Blue Unicorn. She could of been wrong, but it was a lakeside stroll and the accuracy of a ship’s name seemed insignificant at best. Dodging a bit of duck droppings, her attentions focused on the ground beneath her feet. When the pavements cleared she looked back into the harbor, a long boat, nothing near it for as far as her immediate vision could see. Written across it’s back in glittering gold letters with black trim, two words, Goblin King.
“Goblin King,” she murmured. Stumbling into the grass, she steadied herself as best she could and closed her eyes. When she looked back out into the water, she saw those words once again, more clearly, Gossip King. The laughter that arose in her was enough to draw the attention of the others walking along the lake. Sure she must have looked like a mad cow to them by the snap of their heads and the distortion of their faces. “All this fantasy nonsense,” she told herself getting to her feet once more, “it’s got me seeing things that aren’t there. I’m going to call Toby the moment I get home and tell him that if he so much as mentions that fairy tale again...” Some terrible threat would have followed, had she not noticed the cluster of tourists who’d not only gathered to watch her talking to herself, but who had snapped a commemorative photo as well.
Shuffling off, she made her way up to the main road and began heading back toward her apartment. In her head, she continued to curse her brother, herself and especially her sister in law in waiting. It was obvious that silent admonishments were less ridiculed than her auditory ones had been. Looking both ways, hoping to cross against the light and speed her journey home, Sarah took in a new billboard, at least one she hadn’t seen before.
Your eyes can be so cruel it read and in the lower left corner a picture of a blue eyed fellow in a wild blonde wig. “Jareth,” she said as one foot slipped off the curb and into the street. Squealing tire accompanied the honk which inspired her to jerk her foot back up. Protectively her hands clutched her head, eyes clenched tight, as though not seeing it would make it less corporeal. “Jesus Christ!” Sarah shouted when her eyes opened triggering the nausea to rise in her stomach. Fighting it back and wringing her hands to hide the shaking, she looked up to blame the billboard one last time. The one with the ruffled buff tabby in the corner, his tender blue eyes pleading as the bleach white background asked, How can you be cruel to these eyes?
When the light gave way, she ran back to the apartment, not once considering the idea that she looked ridiculous, especially the non-conducive to sprinting shoes which clicked against the pavement as she went.