Remember, p.13
Remember, page 13
Falling into his seat of his car, he took a deep breath. The thoughts returned the moment he had exited the B&B. His worry about Luna and how he had reacted. He debated with himself for a moment to go and see if she was alright, maybe talk with her for a moment. Though he couldn’t bring himself to convince himself to see her. He would only end up at the bottom of a bottle if he did. Starting his car, he backed it away from the B&B and drove towards the Mcclocklin Manor.
The gravel road slowly merged onto asphalt, separated by worn yellow strips that cleared cars for passing. He doubted anyone followed those lines, — unless the sheriff was behind you — most normally just drove down the middle of the old road. If he continued up it, past the Mcclocklin Manor, Brad’s gold course, and the new development you would be surrounded by farmland. Only broken by the occasional house, you could follow it all the way until you hit the Columbia River. Its winding curves just like the old town, a road that Johnny had traveled the moment he had been able to drive, and he knew intimately. The sun was already setting below the rigid hills that surrounded the town, setting the sky ablaze with golden hues of reds and oranges. Only fractured by dark heavy looking clouds.
He wondered if it might rain tonight. Pulling into the driveway of the manor he glanced towards the digital clock on his radio. Ten minutes to seven. Leaning forward he glanced up at the manor from behind his windshield. The red brick building was imposing and one of the few locations in Mcclocklin that he didn’t have many memories of. If it wouldn’t had been for a few beers and a trail of stripped clothes when he was a teen, he would be forgiven if he had completely forgot the old home. The house had been nearly completely in ruins by then, the walls broken and covered in graffiti, the windows broken, and the old lead paint had peeled.
He was surprised to see that it had not been labeled a health hazard and torn down. Setting out of his car, the once dirt looped driveway had been covered in a beautiful leafed pattern cement and he doubted there was a single branch out of place on the hedges that encircled the front. The red bricks had either been cleaned or completely replaced, the windows trimmed with fresh white paint and even still had the labels on the larger bay section of the home. It felt like he had stepped back in time and was waiting for Mr. Mcclocklin to invite him for a drink.
Climbing the stairs, the wood railing had been replaced with a metal one with wire rope. A modern touch on the old home, but it blended remarkably well. He doubted he had ever been in such a home before, even the owner of the dealership home did little to compare to it. Standing at the door he hesitated, he felt intimidated by the home and even more so by the woman that was somewhere within its walls. He did not understand her need to have him for company. Though after the events with Luna he doubted he would ever fully understand a woman.
Raising his hand, he raps his knuckles on the door. A few moments passed, and he thought about knocking again. He didn’t want to rush her. Turning his back away from the door he looked out into the driveway and wondered if she might not be home yet. There wasn’t a second car anywhere to be seen and he doubted she walked here. Turning his attention back to the door he knocked again.
Elisabeth opened the door, and Johnny found his eyes wander. She was dressed in a little black dress, one that ended right before her knees and no sleeves. It was such a striking contrast to the white one he had dreamed about. Her red hair sat gingerly on her shoulders, and her green eyes followed his with a small smirk that played on the corner of her lips. He could imagine some song writer, writing about the dress. How it followed her every curve, how it enhanced her flawless skin and how easily it could fall to the floor. It took only moments for him to take it all in, for him to catch his breath.
“Hopefully I’m not too early.”
“Right on time.”
“I feel underdressed.”
“You look very handsome.”
Johnny felt himself blush at the comment; had he ever been called handsome? Besides his mother, but that did not count. He had been called other things; one girl called him cute in a bar one night. He remembered that fondly.
“You look…” He caught himself. “Stunning.”
“Thank you. Come in.”
She opened the door further for him and he entered. The hall went several feet before opening into a large open space with a spiral staircase leading to the second story. The floors had been replaced with hardwood, with a red tint to the boards. A small half-moon table sat on each side of the hall with vases painted with Chinese writing. Their white and blue sat contrastingly against the deep earth tone painted walls. He could hardly believe that this was the same home, in fact he doubted that it was.
“I can hardly believe this is the same home I remember.”
“The crew managed to use many of the same features from the original home, but most of it was gutted and replaced.”
“This must have cost a fortune.”
“It did.”
He followed Elisabeth, his eyes trying to take every aspect of the home in as they walked. The banister railing wrapped along the stairs and ended with two large roses hand carved into their posts. Passing under the bridge that connected each side of the house, the second story’s secrets hidden beyond his gaze. Entering through two large window paneled doors he found himself in a large dining room. The table that laid out in front of him had enough room to seat twelve people.
“Do you plan on more company?”
“No. It will just me and you.” Elisabeth said as she picked a glass of wine from the table and handed it to him. “Hopefully that doesn’t disappoint you.”
“Of course not. Not very often I get to sit in such a beautiful home.”
Elisabeth gave a small chuckle as she sipped a second glass of wine, before taking a seat at the table.
“Come sit.”
Johnny took a seat near her and set his glass on the table once more. He needed to eat something before he had another drink. He glanced around the room, several the walls were covered in paintings, much like the B&B.
“So, what exactly do you do Elisabeth?”
“I’m in property management, so I guess a property manager would be a clean and simply way to address my title.”
“Doubt you’d get your value back from this place. Not another home like this for at least a hundred miles.”
“We don’t often sell the homes that we invest in. Our clients enjoy renting the places for short periods of time. Though I’d hate to bore you with all the details.” She said as she leaned back in the chair, one arm folded across her chest and she swirled the glass with the other. “Tell me about you.”
“I’m terrible at describing myself. How about you ask a question and I’ll answer. Like twenty questions.”
“Alright.” Elisabeth let out a small giggle as she tilted her head to one side as in thought. “Favorite position?”
Johnny felt his face turn red as he drew his eyes away from her for a moment and stared at his wine glass. He thought about answering, but if she was joking it would have been more embarrassing.
“Catcher.” He offered a joke answer.
“Didn’t take you for a sports fan. But I was kidding Johnny, but glad to see that you can think on your feet. Even if your face gave away your embarrassment.”
“Never was very good at poker either.”
“Sorry if I put you on the spot. I’ve never been very good at small talk. I asked my question, it’s only fair for you to ask one.”
“Where are you from?”
“New Orleans, but my family emigrated from Ireland. Though I have traveled and called many places home.” Elisabeth said. The same smirk resting on her lips. “What are you most talented at?”
“I had some people tell me that I was a good artist when I was younger but can’t make a living doing that. Would you believe a smooth talker?”
“What did you paint?”
“Scenery. Nothing original. It was always a copy from someone else. Hard to paint something you’ve never seen before.” Johnny reached for his wine glass and took a small sip. “Are you any good at cooking?”
“Worried I might make you sick?”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“I’d say I’m a good cook Mr. Everleaf.” She teased his name.
“That’s good. I can’t wait to try it and please Johnny. Calling me by my last name seems to off and formal.”
“I do enjoy the sound of Johnny much better.” She set her glass on the table. “I’ll go and check the oven; I doubt it would be much longer.”
“Alright.”
Johnny watched as she left, the back of the dress was parted nearly down her entire back held together by only a few straps. He waited for her to leave completely before he cleared his throat and took a deep breath. It was hard for him to look away from her, ogle her, even the earlier events had seemed to have vanished from his mind and he could only think about her and the black dress. She was mesmerizing.
Turning the wine glass between two fingers, a deep red wine. He had never been one for wine, it always tasted sour and bitter to him. The room sat with several large windows that overlooked a small garden, hidden away from the main road. A secret garden, he chuckled to himself. The sun had long since completely set and only the moon illuminated the flowers, their identities hidden by the long shadow of the house. Mr. Mcclocklin if alive would likely be happy to see that his home was no longer in such disrepair. If not grander then when he originally built it.
Several more vases sat on small tables throughout the room. Replicas, at least he hoped. If they weren’t, it would be the biggest news this town had since Mcclocklin built his home. Elisabeth came around the corner of the room, holding two plates. A satisfied smile on her face. He enjoyed that smile.
“You should have called. I could have come and got my own plate.”
“Then I wouldn’t be a very good host.”
“Taking notes from Gabriel?”
“I could never match Gabriel. He has many years of experience.”
She set the plate in front of him, it consisted of a handful of steamed broccolis, multicolored rice and a small garnished hen. Despite its smaller portions, the smell was amazing, and he hoped it tasted as good as it looked.
“This looks amazing.”
“Hopefully it’s as good as it looks.” She said as she took her seat.
“After dinner we can go view the rest of the house.”
Johnny only nodded as he cut into the hen. Steam still rising from the meat as he took a bite. The meat melted in his mouth. After another few bites he glanced towards Elisabeth. She was sitting forward; she was blowing on a piece of the hen. Her lips pressed together, and his mind thought back on the dream he had, how soft those lips were. She had sat forward, the black dress clinging even more tightly to her body if that was possible and he felt embarrassed. If she could read his mind, she would have thrown him out. Called him a pervert. Though as he had already thought she was mesmerizing, her entire aura enchanted him, telling him to look, to think about that dream and every other encounter he had imagined with her.
“Is it good?”
“Very.” He said, his eyes drawing away from her and back to his own plate.
Shaking his head, he had to keep himself in check. He couldn’t let himself get swept away in his imagination. He had been so distraught this afternoon, he had felt like he had been stabbed in his heart and yet here he sat. Mentally undressing Elisabeth, his heartbeat faster every time she looked at him, every time she smiled at him, it was maddening. He had to keep himself in check even if every muscle, every thought was to throw the dinner wear off the table and ravish her on it, like he had never done to another woman.
He set his silverware down, his plate nearly empty. It had been a great dinner; he couldn’t think of another dinner that had been so little and yet filled him. It had kept his hands busy, enough to control himself.
“You have to tell me how you cooked the hen.”
“Just a little butter and rosemary. Simplicity is the key.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She had only eaten a small portion of her hen, and her hand once more grasped the wine glass.
“Shall we continue our game?”
“Game?” Johnny asked.
“We ask each other a question; it would be considered a game would it not?”
“I guess you’re right. Only if you want to.”
“Do you have any family?”
“Just my mother is left. I’m sure I have some relatives out there, but I couldn’t pick them from a crowd. What about you?”
“I have a brother and three sisters. However, I haven’t seen them in some time. Our works keep us busy.”
“What about your parents?”
“They passed away some time ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t. Since you asked two questions, does that mean I get two?” She sipped her wine.
“Should I count that as one?”
“Very clever Johnny.”
“I thought so. Ask your questions.”
“How are you feeling since the fight with Mr. Smith?”
“Much better. The bruising doesn’t even hurt anymore. I can say I’m a bit surprised, I assumed that I would have the swollen eye for a few days, but it was gone pretty much the next day. I guess I have been eating my Wheaties.”
Elisabeth paused as though she was debating with herself on her next question. Setting the glass onto the table, she raised from her seat and went to him. He felt his heart pond in his chest, at a distance he could distract himself. She now stood over him, her hand cupped the side of his face, and rubbed where one of the bruises were. He thought it would sting, but instead he felt her soft skin against his, his mind already racing with his urges.
“What would you like to do to me?”
Johnny was caught off guard by the question, almost as though he had just been crossing a walkway and the light had suddenly turned red. Stuck in the middle of traffic and honestly too scared to move. Her fingers traced along his jaw line, pulling his view up towards her. The smirk played on the edges of her lips. He could see the playfulness in her eyes. Swallowing he grabbed her hand and carefully and placed it on the table.
“I enjoyed the dinner Elisabeth.” He said as he pushed his seat away from the table.
It took every thought to stop himself. Her mesmerizing nature was worse than any drink, he become drunk on it. He needed to leave, if not now he might never. Standing he turned to leave, stopping as he felt Elisabeth grasp his hand. How natural it felt, frightening him.
“Answer me Johnny.”
“I don’t know how to answer.”
“Then show me.”
She pulled him back, pinning herself between him and the table. His palms laid against the table, forcing himself to keep from touching her anymore.
“I shouldn’t. The wine has gone to your head.”
She tiptoed upwards and kissed his neck, sending shivers down his entire body. Her lips were just like he imagined, one hand pressed against his chest and the other pinning one of his hands to the table.
“I am thinking perfectly fine. One glass is not enough to affect my judgement. In fact, you could say I’ve never thought more clearly.” She said as she kissed him.
He relished her lips against his, their soft plumpness melted him and his mind fogged. He pushed into the kiss, as his free hand grasped the back of her head, her hair devouring it as they embraced each other. Each kiss eager for the next, he forgot how it felt to become forgetful, how to completely and utterly fall into the moment. Nothing else in the room matter, the vases, the windows, even the table were all a distant memory. Only they remained in the room, and with each kiss they spoke to each other, each breath they shared was their laughter.
She pulled herself up onto the table, her legs wrapped around him. Laying herself out across the table, he stared down at her. The black dress wedged against the table, pulling even more tightly against her body — if that was at all possible. His heart was racing, his face flushed. She was an ecstasy, like some drug he was trying for the first time. Clouding his mind with only her laying across the table, the fight, the argument with Luna had all been thrown out and only she remained in his mind.
One hand caressed her thigh, disappearing under the dress as he thought. A momentary break to catch his breath. He doubted he had ever handled such a woman before, even now as she laid sprawled down, he was captivated by her eyes, playful and yet firm. A conviction that she had convinced herself, a thought that he wish he could read her mind.
“Are you frightened of me?”
“Very.”
Leaning forward, stretching as far as he could he kissed her stomach, the dress preventing any real contact. His hands running along both sides of her, pulling the dress higher away from her. He hadn’t been able to touch her in his dream, unable to feel her skin slide across his fingertips. Lifting her he pulled the dress high enough to expose her stomach, her near perfect skin only hindered by the freckles that scattered across her body as though the artist that had crafted her had accidently shaken his paintbrush over the canvas. He could almost see the faceless artist cursing as he had ruined his masterpiece, but Johnny viewed them with wonder. They were like roadmaps across her body. Kissing one he felt her shiver, and his face cracked into a smile.
He wondered if any had traveled the path he had taken, each new location covered by freckles. Her hand ran between his hair, parting it and ruffling it. Soft moans flowed from Elisabeth, which only provoked him further. Nibbling, his teeth brushing against her skin. Rough enough to cause her to squirm, but not enough to leave a mark. He doubted he could forgive himself if he left one. She rubbed against him; her legs tighten around him. Each heavy breath he took seemed to provoke her into another.
He wrapped his hand under her lower back and pulled her to sit along the edge of the table. Leaning in to kiss her, he was stopped by a finger against his lips. She lifted the dress over her head and threw it onto the floor beside them. She sat there naked, completely exposed to him now and he took in every inch of her. He knew in that moment he had never seen anyone like her, her body only mesmerized him further. She reached out and pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on top of the dress.
