Golden Child: Chapter One (standard:other, 5428 words) [1/2] show all parts
Author: Sare	Updated: Nov 12 2001	Views/Reads: 3413/2439	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The first chapter of my as-yet-unfinished novel. The story of a mysteriously talented young artist and her troubled life.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Jill looked at Kendall, who said, “If it’s okay with you, I don’t mind
if she stays home today.” 

Jill grinned at Eva.  “Sure, you can stay home, luv.” 

Eva smiled happily into her toast.  “Thank you!  I promise to be good!” 

Kendall sighed.  “Just remember, you can’t stay home every day.” 

“I know.  How long till you leave?” 

Kendall and Jill laughed.  “Soon,” Kendall said, checking her watch. 
“Very soon.  I have to get my briefcase from the studio before I go to 
class, so I have to leave a bit early.” 

. 

As Kendall passed the doorman on her way out of the apartment building,
she grinned at him, smiling inwardly as well as he rushed to open the 
door for her.  She thanked him politely, and walked out into the 
street, heading west.  As she walked quickly down the street, she 
ignored, out of habit, the faces of the people she passed.  Living in 
the city all her life had jaded her, she knew, and yet she wasn’t 
ashamed of that prejudice.  As far as she knew, it had kept her safe 
for the last 25 years, and she saw no reason why it shouldn’t continue 
to do so. 

Arriving at her destination a few minutes later, Kendall greeted the
doorman and walked up to the elevator, too lazy today to walk up the 
five flights.  Her studio was on the fifth floor of an exclusive 
building, and as she rode the mirrored elevator, she reflected, not for 
the first time, that she was glad she had been given this luxury.  It 
was a far cry from the basement studio in her parents’ house that she 
had used until that first major sale six years ago.  Spacious and airy, 
with plenty of afternoon sunlight, this studio was Kendall’s sanctuary. 
Entering it now after unlocking the deadbolt, she noticed that she had 
yet again left her computer running, and she made a mental note to post 
a sign on the back of the door.  Whether she could afford the power 
bills or not, it was a pain in the ass to have to admit to leaving it 
on.  Checking her watch, she realized that she was running a few 
minutes late, so she hurried over to the corner of the room where she 
had left her briefcase the previous night.  Lifting it easily although 
it was quite heavy, Kendall grabbed the briefcase and headed out the 
door, forgetting the computer in her haste. 

Running down the stairs, Kendall checked her watch again.  Vic would be
annoyed if she was late again.  Although he had the patience of a saint 
and a heart of gold, her art instructor had one pet peeve: students who 
showed up late for class.  And Kendall had been late every day this 
week.  He would not be pleased if she was late again today. 

So Kendall hurried.  As she exited the building she quickly hailed a
taxi, something she rarely did, and gave the driver the school’s 
address, asking him to hurry.  The driver wove expertly through the 
morning traffic and had her at the school in less than ten minutes.  
She paid him and gave him a generous tip, then ran inside.  She had 
just come through the door of her classroom when Vic walked in, and she 
breathed a sigh of relief.  He grinned at her over the top of her easel 
as he walked past her, and she returned the smile.  Although she saw 
that grin every day, it never failed to surprise her how infectious it 
was. 

Kendall waited quietly as she listened to Vic greeting a few of the
other students as he began his first walk around the classroom, moving 
slowly about the studio examining each easel, making comments and 
suggestions.  When at last he got to Kendall’s place, the last before 
he began his second round, he touched her briefly on the shoulder and 
smiled into her eyes before turning to the easel.  He was a tall, 
dark-haired man in his late forties, his hair just starting to turn 
gray.  His eyes were a shade of blue that Kendall had yet to be able to 
find in a paint jar, and his hands, large and firm, were smooth and 
faintly paint-speckled.  His eyes shone as he examined Kendall’s 
painting. 

“Very good, Kendall.  I like the way you’ve used the violet in the
corner.  Maybe you could try darkening the shadows under her feet with 
that same violet?”  His tone was businesslike and confident, and yet 
when he spoke to her it seemed to carry an extra note of gentleness.  
Kendall listened carefully to his instructions, nodding slowly as they 
studied her painting together.  Before moving on to his next student he 
touched her shoulder again, as if to remind her that she meant more to 
him than just the painting.  As if she needed reminding, she thought 
ruefully as he wandered away.  She smiled softly and picked up a clean 
paintbrush, ready to get to work. 

At two thirty, Vic announced that they could leave.  The students
wandered out slowly over the next half-hour, some reluctant to leave 
their paintings without that one last touch, others so wrapped up in 
their art that they didn’t even hear the announcement and only realized 
the time when they came up for air or to get a clean brush.  Kendall, 
for her part, continued working until she and Victor were the only ones 
left in the studio, and he came over to her easel. 

“Are you ready to leave, Kendall?” he asked. 

“Yes, I think so.”  Kendall carelessly dropped her brush into the jar of
cleaning solution on the table next to her easel.  “I’m ready.” 

“Do you want to go and get something to eat?” 

“No.  I’m not hungry, are you?” 

“Not especially.  Let’s go.” 

Exiting the building and heading south, Victor took Kendall’s hand as
they walked. 

When they arrived at Kendall’s studio a half-hour later, they hurried up
the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator.  Once inside the 
door, Victor locked it behind them as they embraced passionately, 
tearing at each other’s clothes. 

“Wait, wait!”  Kendall cried breathlessly, “My phone is ringing.” 

“Ignore it!”  He buried his mouth in her bare breast. 

“I can’t... Eva..." Kendall broke free and ran to where she had flung
her purse, digging in it to find her cell phone.  “Hello?” she asked 
breathlessly. 

“Kendall?”  Eva’s high voice filled Kendall’s ear. 

“Yes, sweetie, what’s wrong?  Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, so why are you calling then?  Did you want something?”  Kendall
smiled at Victor as he pantomimed hanging up the phone and returning to 
where he lay on the pull-out couch halfway across the room.  She held 
up one finger, and he reciprocated by holding up two of his own fingers 
and wiggling them suggestively.  Kendall squirmed and turned to face 
away from him, her cheeks flushed. 

Eva’s response came out in a rush.  “Well I was wondering if maybe
Tiffany and Brittany could come over to play this afternoon.  I asked 
Jill but she said no because I didn’t go to school today, but then I 
asked her if I could call and ask you if it’s okay and she said I could 
call and ask so can they?” 

Kendall sighed.  “Well,” she said, “I think probably the reason is that
Jill has had to put up with you all day, and the last thing she needs 
now is for two more little girls to show up.  Maybe you’d better let me 
talk to Jill.”  Kendall waited as the phone was passed on to Jill.  
They spoke briefly, agreeing that since Kendall wouldn’t be home until 
almost Eva’s bedtime today, she might as well have one friend over to 
keep her company.  “But just one friend,” she explained to Eva firmly.  
“Tiffany or Brittany.  Got it?” 

Kendall could hear the slight pout in Eva’s voice as she answered,
“Okay.  Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome, hun.  See you at bedtime.” 

“Okay.  Bye Kendall.” 

“Good bye, Eva.” 

Turning to face Victor again, she smiled sadly.  “Somehow talking to Eva
totally gets me out of the mood for sex.” 

Victor nodded slowly.  “That’s understandable.  Maybe it’s your
instincts reminding you that you don’t want to get pregnant and have 
another child to look after.” 

“Maybe.  Or maybe it reminds me of my parents.  And death isn’t a very
good aphrodisiac.”  Kendall wandered over and sat on the edge of the 
bed, next to him. 

“Could be that too.  In any case, do you want to try again later, or can
I get you back in the mood?”  He stroked his fingers up her bare back, 
sending shivers up and down her spine. 

She turned to him and kissed him, then slowly withdrew.  “Maybe later. 
You don’t mind, do you?” 

“No, of course not.  Besides, we have the whole afternoon and evening. 
You know what, I think I’m hungry after all.  I think I’ll get a pizza. 
 Tell you what, you can stay here and try to get some work done, and 
I’ll go pick one up.  How’s that?” 

Kendall smiled at him, loving his thoughtfulness.  “That sounds really
great, Victor.  I’d like that.” 

“Great!”  Victor quickly pulled on his shirt and jeans, and his coat. 
“Pepperoni, mushrooms, and green peppers, right?” 

“Right.  And Pepsi, please.” 

“Got it.”  Kissing her gently before heading out the door, he whispered,
“I love you, Kendall.” 

Then he was gone.  She whispered to the closed door, “I love you, too.” 
She had never spoken those words out loud to him, never written them to 
him.  She knew how he longed to hear them from her, but something had 
always kept her from delivering them.  Maybe it was the 
twenty-four-year age difference between them, or the fact that he had 
left his wife for her years before either of them had acted on their 
mutual attraction.  Or then again, maybe she was just afraid of love 
itself.  Or, perhaps she was just afraid that if she told him she loved 
him, he would want marriage and children before it was too late for 
him, and she just didn’t think she and Eva could handle that. 

Kendall jumped as she realized what she’d been thinking.  She reflected
briefly on the words Eva’s therapist had used three years ago after 
their parents had been killed.  “Resistance to change...”  
“Unwillingness to accept reality...”  “Extreme insecurity and 
anxiety..." Kendall had laughed in the man’s face and taken Eva home.  
What did he expect of a five-year-old girl whose parents had just 
suddenly disappeared, in her eyes, and abandoned her to her twenty-two 
year old sister, with whom she had never spent more than a few hours at 
a time? 

Well, Eva was fine now, wasn’t she?  She was settled now into her
routine, she loved Jill, had friends and got good marks in school.  She 
had adjusted remarkably well to living with Kendall, showing the 
amazing resilience of the very young.  So why did Kendall still feel 
justified in using Eva as an excuse not to marry Victor?  And why was 
Kendall so preoccupied with the idea of marriage to Victor, anyway?  
His divorce wasn’t even final yet! 

Kendall shook her head to clear it of these thoughts as she gazed around
her studio - her sanctuary.  She walked over to the computer and 
restarted it, opening her word processor to the fifth chapter of her 
novel, and sat down to type. 

When Victor returned thirty minutes later he found Kendall pacing the
room holding a stack of computer printouts.  She whirled on him in 
frustration as he came through the door.  “What country is Budapest the 
capital of?  I’ve lost my damned atlas.” 

“Hungary?”  He balanced the pizza box and the bag holding the Pepsis as
he closed and locked the door behind him. 

“Yes, but I need to know this first.” 

He stood silent a moment, confused.  “Oh!” he said.  “No, no, the
country is Hungary.” 

Kendall laughed, her fury of frustration and concentration broken. 
“Ah!” she said, sheepishly, “I see.  Ok, just a sec.”  She went over to 
the computer and made a small change, then saved her additions and 
turned off the computer.  “I really hate those, you know.” 

Victor looked at her.  “Pizzas?  Or Hungarians?” 

She laughed.  “Computers.” 

“Ah, I see.  Well, a computer is like a pet.  If you take proper care of
it, it will obey you as long as it doesn’t feel like doing otherwise.” 

Kendall laughed.  “But it doesn’t have the attachment that a pet has. 
It doesn’t snuggle like a dog or a cat does, it doesn’t depend on 
you...   This pizza is really good.” 

“Why thank-you, I made it myself...” 

“Yeah, right.  Probably stayed up all night making dessert, too.” 

Victor pulled a small box of donuts from the bag.  “As a matter of
fact...  Well, okay, I didn’t... but somebody did.” 

All of a sudden, Kendall got a mischievous look in her eye.  She dropped
her pizza and slowly wiped her hands on her napkin.  She stood, and 
quickly started taking off her clothes.  Victor sat very still and 
watched her.  When she was naked, she sat back down, picked up her 
pizza, and continued eating.  Victor laughed.  “Fair’s fair, I guess,” 
he said, and rose, pulling off his clothes as well before sitting down 
to resume eating. 

They made it through the pizza and pop, but as soon as Victor picked up
a donut and took one bite, dripping a glob of jelly on his chest, 
Kendall was on him in a flash, licking the glob of jelly away and not 
stopping, quickly making him forget about the donut as they wrestled on 
the floor of Kendall’s studio. 

Afterwards they lay side by side on the floor, too drained even to get
up onto the couch.  Kendall shivered with a slight chill, and rolled 
closer to Victor.  He looked at his watch and sighed.  Already it was 
almost five thirty.  The time always seemed to pass so quickly when he 
and Kendall were together.  He wished he could convince her to marry 
him, so that they could be together more.  Three afternoons a week and 
one day on the weekend spent with her and Eva just wasn’t enough.  He 
knew that Kendall loved him, though she would never speak the words, 
but he didn’t know how he could ever ask her to marry him when she 
refused to admit how she felt. 

He thought about Eva.  He knew that the little girl liked him; she was
always throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him, always 
climbing up into his lap.  On Sunday afternoons the three of them 
visited parks, zoos, museums, and went to movies and plays.  He took 
them to restaurants and theatres, anywhere they wanted to go.  
Sometimes he drove, and other times, because Eva enjoyed it, they took 
the subway.  Always he was solicitous of both of their needs and wants, 
lifting Eva into the high seats of his Jeep; making frequent stops on 
long drives. 

He loved Kendall so much he thought sometimes that he might burst; when
he painted, she was a constant image in his mind, and his paintings 
were filled with sunshine and light, because these things reminded him 
of her.  When, in class, he looked at her paintings, it was an effort 
to remain professional.  The sensuousness that filled all of her art 
was a lure against which he had to fight in class and in public, but 
here in her studio, surrounded by Kendall’s essence and those parts of 
her inner fire that had made their way out through marble, plaster, 
canvas, and paper, he was free to allow her sensuousness to overwhelm 
and empower him, and yes, even to arouse him. 

Although they had yet to make love in either his apartment or hers,
somehow here in her studio they couldn’t keep their hands off each 
other.  Victor had to admit that he rarely tried.  Making love to 
Kendall, the years that separated them seemed to slip away as they shed 
their clothes.  With Kendall he was no longer the 49-year-old art 
teacher, who taught because although his paintings were good, they 
weren’t good enough.  With Kendall, he was no longer the man old enough 
to be her father, who had no children of his own.  With Kendall, he 
became young, vibrant, alive.  With Kendall, he could banish the 
reminders of his own mortality and age, and focus only on his love for 
her and the way she made him feel: the way her skin felt, sliding 
against his, the way her lips felt, skimming and probing his own.  With 
Kendall, he was whole. 

Kendall snuggled into Victor’s chest, noting the serious expression on
his face, and hoped he wasn’t feeling discouraged because she hadn’t 
said, “I love you, too,” when he had declared his love for her a few 
moments ago.  “I love you,” she told him silently, burrowing closer.  
“I just can’t tell you.  I’m sorry.”  All of a sudden, Kendall was 
inspired.  She jumped up and ran towards the wall where she had a stack 
of new, stretched canvasses and selected one that was about 1 1/2’ by 
2’, and set in on a vacant easel.  Swiftly she gathered brushes and 
paints, and in a moment she was painting in short, hard brushstrokes, 
violently slashing at the canvas with her right hand while her left 
held the palette. 

Victor sat up to watch.  From where he sat, he couldn’t see the
painting, but he had a clear view of Kendall, still naked, her face 
already smeared with paint from when she had brushed her hair off her 
forehead.  Her eyes shone brightly with the light of the fire inside 
her, and her body, glistening with moisture even though she shivered in 
the chill air, was slowly being spattered with paint as she practically 
threw it at the canvas.  After a flurry of activity through which 
neither spoke a single word, Kendall sighed and turned away from the 
painting, shivering more now that her concentration was broken.  Slowly 
she set aside her paint and brush, and ran her hands absently through 
her hair, leaving tracks of red, blue, and violet paint.  She wandered 
back over to where Victor sat on the floor, and descended on him like a 
bird finding its prey, pushing him down to lie on his back, and kissing 
him violently. 

. 

Eva tossed her doll to the floor, telling Brittany, “I’m gonna go ask
Jill if you can stay for supper.”  As she walked down the hall to the 
living room where Jill sat, sewing with neat stitches one of Kendall’s 
sweaters, Eva wished that Kendall were home.  It was Thursday today, 
and Kendall was never home for supper on Thursdays, but Eva still 
wished that she were going to be here.  Then again, she reasoned, if 
Kendall was home, Brittany definitely wouldn’t be able to stay.  
“Jill?” 

Jill looked up and smiled at Eva.  “Yes, dear?” 

“Can Brittany stay for supper?” 

“Yes, if her mother says it’s okay.  We’re having spaghetti tonight.” 

“Okay, we’ll call right now.” 

“Why don’t you go over and ask?”  Brittany and her family lived in the
same building as Eva and Kendall.  Brittany’s mother was a plastic 
surgeon. 

“All right..." Eva dragged her feet down the hall but stopped and walked
normally once out of Jill’s sight.  “We have to go over and ask your 
mom if you can stay,” she told Brittany upon entering the room. 

“Why don’t we just call?” 

“Because Jill said to go over and ask.” 

“So?  Let’s just call.  Who cares?” 

Eva sighed.  “Let’s just go over there, okay?  Jill said.” 

“Why do we always have to listen to Jill?  She’s not even your mom.” 

Eva’s temper flared suddenly.  “We listen to Jill,” she said, her tone
exactly like Kendall’s was when she was angry, “Because Jill is the one 
who says who can come over.  And who can stay for supper.  Let’s just 
go, okay?” 

Brittany slowly stood and walked to the door of Eva’s bedroom.  “I still
think it’s funny that Jill’s always the one who takes care of you all 
the time.  My mom says that your sister is just shunting 
responsibility.” 

Eva looked at her friend, not sure if that was an insult or not.  “What
does that mean?” 

“I don’t know.  Come on, let’s go if we have to go.” 

“Okay.”  The two girls walked down the hall, and Eva called to Jill,
“We’re going now.” 

“All right,” Jill called back.  “Don’t go anywhere else, and come right
back, okay?” 

“Yup.  Be right back.” 

Jill sat alone in the living room, listening to the girls’ chatter as
they waited for the elevator.  She sighed.  Although she had been 
working for Kendall for three years now, ever since the accident that 
had killed their parents, she still thought it very odd that Kendall 
refused to come home early enough for dinner more than once or twice a 
week.  It wasn’t that Jill minded making supper for herself and Eva, 
but she knew that the little girl was disappointed at not being able to 
spend more time with Kendall.  Yes, they spent two or three evenings a 
week together, and Kendall always got up with Eva.  Saturday afternoons 
were reserved just for Eva unless something came up.  And on Sundays, 
Kendall and Eva spent the day with Kendall’s boyfriend.  “Boyfriend,” 
ha! thought Jill derisively.  She did not approve of Kendall’s 
relationship with Victor.  He was a nice man, she knew, and she liked 
him, but at nearly fifty herself, Jill hardly saw him as right for 
someone as young as Kendall. 

Now that she thought about it, there was a lot about Kendall’s lifestyle
of which she didn’t approve.  Victor, for one, and the lack of time 
spent with Eva, but also that she made her living as an artist, of all 
things.  Jill knew that Kendall painted in the nude.  “Without any 
clothes on?” she’d asked a few weeks after she met Kendall, when she’d 
accidentally stumbled upon her, in her bedroom, an easel by the window, 
putting the finishing touches on a painting.  This was another thing 
that Jill didn’t approve of, although secretly she admired Kendall’s 
seeming lack of modesty.  And, she had to acknowledge, it cut down on 
the amount of paint-stained clothing she had to wash and fret over. 

Shaking her head, Jill rose and moved to the kitchen to stir the
spaghetti sauce and start the water for the noodles.  It was almost 
five o’clock, and she liked to be finished eating by six so Eva could 
play with her friend for an hour or so before Kendall came home and it 
was time for her to get ready for bed. 

Jill looked at the calendar on the kitchen wall as she passed, and
noticed that tomorrow was pay day for her.  She also realized that on 
Saturday morning, she was to take Eva shopping for some new clothes.  
The upside, though, was that the following weekend, Victor, Kendall, 
and Eva were heading to visit Natasha, Kendall and Eva’s older sister, 
at her ranch in the States, and Jill would have the weekend off, 
beginning on Thursday night.  She had been invited to join them but had 
declined.  If there was one person in this world that Jill did not 
like, it was Natasha.  Just a year older than Kendall, she had 
immediately refused to have anything to do with Eva after their parents 
died.  Instead she had gotten married and fled to the States, claiming 
that her work (she was a correspondence reporter for the New York 
Times) kept her much too busy to take care of a five-year-old.  Kendall 
had accepted this with admirable stoicism, finding a home for herself 
and Eva, selling her parents’ house and those belongings not claimed by 
Natasha or their brother, Josh, and hiring a housekeeper, Jill herself, 
to look after the two of them. 

But next weekend, Eva and Kendall, and Victor had been invited down to
spend time with Natasha, her husband, Blake, and their new baby, Dylan, 
and they had accepted.  Victor was driving them all down, and they 
planned to leave early Friday morning, to return late Sunday evening.  
Jill would have all of Friday and Saturday morning off in addition to 
the usual Saturday afternoon and Sunday, and she planned to go up north 
and visit her own sister for the weekend. 

Stirring the noodles, Jill heard the front door open and close and a
dejected Eva walked into the kitchen.  “Brittany’s mom said she had to 
stay home for supper, and she’s not allowed to play after, either.  We 
should have just called.”  She pouted slightly. 

“Yes, maybe you’re right.”  Jill smiled at Eva, who tried to glare back
at her but couldn’t, collapsing into giggles as Jill made a face at 
her.  “Now go and wash your hands and then you can help me set the 
table.  Maybe we can watch a movie or something after dinner, all 
right?” 

“Okay.”  Still disappointed, but with a touch of stoicism reminiscent of
Kendall, Eva headed down the hall towards the bathroom. 

. 

At Kendall’s studio, Kendall sat cross-legged on the floor opposite
Victor, dressed only in her T-shirt and panties, her hair tousled and 
standing up in some places, tracks of paint making it stiff.  She 
frowned in concentration.  Finally she reached out and plucked five 
tiles from her tray and laid them squarely on the Scrabble board.  
“Quick,” she said, “Q-U-I-C-K.  The ‘I’ makes ‘in’ over here.”  She 
reached to pull out more letters.  “Your turn.” 

Victor took one look at the board and laid down “Quiz,” pointing
silently to the “triple letter score” under the “z,” and Kendall sighed 
in exasperation. 

“Okay, I give up,” Kendall said, laughing.  “I don’t feel like playing
this anymore.  Is there any ice cream left?” 

“No, I don’t think so.  Hey, have you given any thought to what we
should bring to your sister’s as a baby gift?” 

“I already sent one.” 

“When?” 

“When the baby was born, I sent her our grandmother’s oak rocking chair,
and new cushions for it, and a stuffed animal to give to the baby.  
Then after she sent me a picture of him, I painted a portrait and sent 
that -you saw it, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, I think so.”  Victor smiled.  For someone who purported to
dislike babies, and whose relationship with her sister had never been 
good, she had certainly been very generous in her gifts.  He wondered 
if she would hold the baby while they were there next week.  “But I’d 
like to bring something...” 

“Well..." Kendall thought for a moment.  “Why don’t you and I take Eva
shopping on Sunday?  I know she’ll want to bring a gift for the baby as 
well, and maybe you can find something too.” 

Victor nodded.  “That sounds fine.” 

“What time is it?” 

Victor checked his watch.  “Six-fifteen.  We should think about leaving
soon.” 

“Yeah..." Kendall stood and stretched.  But instead of moving to where
her jeans lay on the floor near her desk, she surprised him by pulling 
her shirt off over her head and pulling off her underpants.  She looked 
at him.  He looked back at her. 

. 

When Kendall walked through the door at ten after seven, she was greeted
by Jill, who said in a low voice as she removed her coat, “Eva fell 
asleep about twenty minutes ago.  We were watching a movie and all of a 
sudden she was snoring.” 

“Is she still in the living room?” 

“No, I moved her to her room.  I didn’t change her, though.  She’ll need
to wake up to go to the bathroom, anyway, she hadn’t in a while.” 

“Ok, then.  Thanks, Jill.  Drive safely, see you tomorrow.”  Kendall
hung her jacket in the closet by the door, kicked off her shoes, and 
went into the kitchen for a drink.  Carrying her glass, she headed into 
the living room, but changed her mind and went into Eva’s room, setting 
her glass on the dresser.  She knelt beside the bed, stripping off 
Eva’s socks and unbuttoning her pants, then pulling them down.  She 
pulled Eva into a sitting position and tugged her shirt off over her 
head, then held her with one arm and grabbed her pajamas, sliding the 
top on, and then pulling and tugging to get the pants on.  She lay her 
back down, making a mental note to remember to come back in an hour or 
so to take her to the bathroom. 

She picked up her glass and went into her bedroom, setting the drink on
the bedside table and stripping off her clothes as she looked around 
for the book she was reading.  Grabbing the book and her drink, she 
headed into the bathroom and turned on the tap, sending hot water in a 
rush to the bottom of the tub.  She gave the tub a quick rinse with the 
hot water to warm the cool enamel, and started to fill the tub, dumping 
in strawberry-scented bubble bath. 

She went for a quick pee, then settled down into the bathtub, closing
her eyes as she felt the hot water soothe her aching muscles.  Sex with 
Victor three times in one day was too much, she acknowledged to 
herself, smiling.  She reached over and picked up her book, turning off 
the water at the same time.  She lay her head back against the bath 
pillow, and started to read. 

****comments welcome and appreciated.  this is only chapter one...
chapter two will follow someday soon.  the whole of the novel is 
dedicated to my grandmother and my baby sister****be well.  sare 


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