Hey folks.
Back from my visit to beautiful North Carolina.
happy to have two more days of vaca before slogging back to work.
Will likely have some follow up thoughts on the visit, but would rather post some writing at last.
I missed my laptop and my stories SO FUCKING MUCH while I was away. They were on my mind so much of the time. Ideas, scenes, characters, plot devices, tangents, origin stories, histories, motivations, psychology, secrets-- you name it!
I misssed them.
I even wrote a little on the plane, longhand, in anticipation of getting back here and caressing these grubby keys with my fingers once again.
OMG! This morning Aaron and I went to pick up coffee and breakfast sandwiches for the fam and stopped in at an adorable little wine shoppe at my eager insistance. And guess the fuck what? The shop owner (I'm pretty certain he was the owner), was handsome and charming and kind and friendly, and the shop was adorable a sweet and, since I'm insane, all I could think about was a fictional character from MY own fiction. How ridiculous is that?
But I honestly couldn't stop grinning while we were in there, and I was inordinately friendly with the man, all because I was attributing characteristics to him that he likely does not possess! I was totes projecting the whole time! And I had extraneous conversation with him because I was kinda crushing on him because I was pretending he was Nolan Delaney. How bananas is that shit?
He told me all about the upcoming wine tasting that afternoon, with a representative from a Chilean winery coming to speak about the chilen wine selections and all that. impressive! And when we were wrapping up the discussion--get this-- he WINKED at me and smiled and bid us have a nice day. HE ACTUALLY WINKED!! and not in a creepy way, I mean Aaron was right there beside me, it was just a wholesome, charming, charismatic wink.
Plus he was honestly good looking-- tall, lean, brown hair, clean cut, kinda sexy, dark blue-greyish eyes... weird wacky stuff folks. I was a giddy mess about it!!!
ANYWAY, back to the falls...
The scene below is the next installment in the LONG NIGHT dinner scene, which I LIKE but don't LOVE, but want to be fair and finish it.
I want to share SOOOOOO MUCH!!! with you all. I've been a writing fool lately (before NC anyway!) and can't wait to share some of the developments. But. All in good time I guess. We're going in order, so read long night 1-6 if you haven't already. (last one was lenghthy, huh? sorry. Just had alot to say i guess!)
For now, let's delve back into the little WASPy evening that could, shall we?
**********************
Viola still couldn’t believe her brother was married. So fucking bizarre. It would be like finding out the Pope had converted to Buddhism or something. Just so out of the realm of what she thought was probable.
But she well knew that when it came to sex and romance, anything could happen, no matter how unlikely.
And Grey’d been avoiding her calls and texts all week too, so she still had no idea why he’d done it, what the story was, or anything. She decided she’d better try and get some of the answers she was seeking from his pretty little bride.
“Shouldn’t we—“ Grey’s bride was only very reluctantly allowing Viola to pull her up the stairs. She was looking behind them at the living room arch way, and she seemed very conflicted. “Should we, go? Help?”
“Nah. My Dad will handle it. He always does.” Viola said. Damn, she liked it when he took charge like that. Half of her actually wanted to drop Maggie’s elbow and bounce down there to catch the fireworks. But she knew Grey would be glad she’d had the presence of mind to escort his wife away from the conflict, so she pushed the tantalizing thought of her father being super authoritative out of her mind for the moment. “C’mon, Grey’ll come up here and get us when my Gran’s been put in her place.”
Viola watched Maggie furrow her brow and wondered what the girl was thinking of her family so far.
They reached the top landing and Viola finally let go of Maggie’s elbow, feeling pretty certain the girl wouldn’t bolt back down. “So how d’you like the cottage?” She asked pleasantly, crossing down the hall a bit and opening the door to Grey’s old bedroom. She flicked on the light and stepped inside.
Maggie hesitated on the threshold and stared. Viola watched with interest as the girl stood there, looking for all the world as though she wanted to soak it all in, but looking also like she wasn’t sure she was allowed inside.
“C’mon in.” Viola prompted. “It’s ok. He hasn’t lived here really since he started college.”
Maggie swallowed and stepped over the threshold carefully, reminding Viola of Dorothy and her tentative first steps into the Technicolor Oz. The room was pretty much as Grey had left it years ago. They already had a spare bedroom since the twins preferred to share, so Velvet had been able to leave this little shrine just the way it was.
Viola waited patiently while Maggie wandered the room slowly, soaking in every poster and trophy and novelty item and souvenir. Grey had always been a pretty stream-line kinda guy, plus, he’d lived away at the boarding school most of the time, so there wasn’t a ton to see, but Viola supposed if it was all new it must seem like a lot to take in. She crossed to the bed, plopped onto her stomach, crossed her feet at the ankles and propped her chin in her hands.
Maggie Delaney, nee Ramirez, was a cute little piece of ass. Viola could see how Grey’d be smitten; in so far as Grey ever got smitten. She had great proportions, sort of in miniature, which Viola understood a lot of men found very, very hot. She smiled to herself, thinking about how petite her own body felt in a certain someone’s strong hands.
Anyway. Maggie. Viola liked the curls, liked the curves, liked the creamy caramel skintone. The eyes were just plain arresting, and her lips said ‘fuck me please’ all over.
But the kicker, thought Viola shrewdly, was that Maggie Ramirez Delaney had no idea how adorable she was. Had no idea that she was grade-A spank-bank material. And. And Viola would bet good money that Maggie had been a virgin when Grey’d met her.
She certainly got why he’d dated the little Latina beauty. Understood why he’d want to fuck her. But what Viola couldn’t wrap her head around was why he’d gone and married her. Married. Yikes. Because fucking a girl and making the big commitment were worlds apart.
And this girl, good as she may be for some fun, some fucking, a fling; this girl didn’t seem to have a lick in common with her brother. Weren’t people supposed to be compatible in a marriage? Because Viola certainly couldn’t see what this couple would have to talk about at the dinner table.
It all seemed very, very peculiar.
“He told me he was a swimmer—“ The young woman commented, a note of awe in her voice as she examined medal after medal and trophy after trophy. “He didn’t say he was so competitive in it.”
Viola shrugged. Who gave a shit? “Yeah. Dad thought he could maybe make a go at the national level, maybe even Olympic trials, but Grey wasn’t going for it.”
Maggie turned, wide-eyed. “Why not?”
Viola smiled and lifted her shoulders a fraction. “Dunno. Too much work maybe. Take the fun out of it? He’s never wanted to be known as like, a professional athlete.”
Maggie looked intrigued as she mulled that one over. “He’s got some other sports awards here too.” She said after a moment.
“Yeah.” Viola agreed, already bored of this topic. “He’s played almost all of them, and as you can see he’s pretty awesome.” She splayed her crimson fingernails out in front of her and checked them idly for imperfections. She’d gone with her mom for a mani/pedi today. And a wax. She smiled at her fingernails as she remembered the look on the little Korean woman’s face when she’d asked for a Brazilian. Maybe there weren’t too many fifteen year olds in there asking for Brazilians.
All afternoon she’d been unable to stop her mind from wandering to her denuded sex. It felt naughty and fresh. It felt provocative and powerful. She wanted to show it off. She wondered if she’d get the chance. No, more precisely, she wondered how she’d arrange the opportunity to show it off.
She smiled and returned her wandering focus to her brother’s esposita.
“He’s got a bunch of more academic awards, like, scholastic stuff, but Dad’s got that sort of thing displayed downstairs.”
Maggie smiled wistfully at that, but didn’t comment. Viola could tell the girl really liked Jonah. They had a lot in common. Viola narrowed her eyes a little. She’d be keeping her eyes on that budding friendship alright.
“Is there any sport he doesn’t play?” Maggie asked, finally coming to sit by Viola on the full sized bed. She sat down carefully, as if it were the altar at some shrine, but she tried her best to appear casual about it. Viola had to turn her head to hide her amusement with the girl.
“Sure. Golf.” She said wryly.
Maggie was quiet. “Just golf?” She asked hesitantly. “Why Golf?”
Viola’s lips pulled to the side and she peered at Maggie skeptically. This woman, this bride of her brother’s, didn’t know why Grey refused to play golf? Refused to even so much as pick up a club, despite the fact that every other guy in his social set was raised on the sport? Despite the fact that being a wealthy, prep school educated, Cedar Falls socialite pretty much required you to be a member of the country club and an enthusiast for the links?
“You two know eachother long before you got hitched?” Viola asked curiously, deciding she’d go ahead and let Grey field the golf questions himself. Far be it for Viola to open that whole can of festering worms. If Maggie didn’t know about Vaughan Grey by now, maybe there was some reason Grey had for keeping her in the dark.
Maggie blushed like a little kid who’d been caught peeking on another student’s test answers or something. “I guess not too long.” She admitted. “It was a pretty whirlwind courtship.”
“Mmmhmm.” Viola agreed half-heartedly.
“You two seem close.” Maggie commented, abruptly steering the conversation away from their marriage. Interesting.
“I guess.” Viola conceded marginally.
“But you’re the farthest apart in age.” She continued, trying to draw Viola out gently.
“He’s always been a really good big brother to me.” Viola stated levelly. “We look out for eachother.” She added meaningfully. She wasn’t threatening Maggie, precisely, just, sort of, giving her fair warning.
Maggie nodded slowly. “He’s lucky to have you on his side.” She said quietly.
Viola raised a skeptical eyebrow. This chick didn’t know anything about her. Coming from anyone else that last comment would have come off as complete ass-kissing bullshit. Weirdly, though, it had sounded pretty fucking genuine when Maggie said it.
She didn’t seem like the kind of girl that would be a gold digger. Of course, Grey wasn’t the kind of guy to marry a golddigger, either. What the fuck was this all about?
“So you wanna be an elementary school teacher?” Viola asked her brightly.
An elementary school teacher--Like Jonah.
Maggie smiled a genuine smile. “Yeah. I’ve wanted to ever since I can remember.”
Viola did her best to mirror the smile. “I hear you’re great at the Wine Shoppe—no interest in doing that?”
Maggie crinkled her eyebrows. “Doing, what? Owning a shop?”
Viola laughed. “Is that so crazy?” Maggie wore an expression that clearly said that such a notion was out of her imaginings. “But, something wine related, though; ‘sommelier’ or whatever. Uncle Nolan went to school for it.”
Maggie looked impressed and then embarrassed. “Wow. Oh, um, no, no. I like it a lot but I don’t think I have any particular talent for it or anything like that.”
Viola nodded. She wanted to come right out and ask the girl about the ridiculous marriage. She wanted the dirt, but she didn’t know how to get at it. And Viola Delaney fucking hated stupid ass small talk. She always had to pretend she was playing the part of her mom in order to get through it. Smile, be perky, be pert, be pretty, be precious. Vomit in mouth, but smile and nod and ‘mmhmm’ a lot.
“Do you have any plans? For the future?” Maggie asked hesitantly.
Viola resisted the immediate impulse to roll her eyes. She didn’t give a flying fuck about plans for the future. She didn’t appreciate the ‘what do you wanna be when you grow up, little girl?’ question, however it was couched in professionalism.
“Nah. Nothing’s really calling me yet. Keeping an open mind. So hey, does it ever get to you that Grey’s dated like a hundred girls?”
Maggie’s wide brown eyes got wider for a sec, then her face was still. “I try not to think about it too much.” She responded quietly.
Wow. Did this girl have a dishonest bone in her adorable Latina body? Now Viola kinda felt like a bitch.
“I mean, he married you, so no worries or anything, right?” Viola grinned and laughed a little, to try to ease Maggie’s anxiety. But the girl didn’t seem eased. She seemed to get stiffer. Eeek. “He’s never lived with a girl. How’s that going?”
Viola thought there might have been a spark of amusement flicker behind Maggie’s determined neutrality. “I’ve never lived with anyone before either. It’s quite an adjustment.”
Wild. Catholics. Making them get hitched before letting them see how living together went? Viola thought that was pretty whacked.
“He, like, a total slob or something? He snore?”
Maggie cleared her throat and picked a string off her dress—it was an awful dress, by the way. It did nothing for her. It looked like something you’d wear to a funeral or something.
“Well it’s only been a week.” Maggie said tentatively. “I think so far we’ve both been on our best behavior as far as dirty dishes and laundry go.”
Viola sighed. Bo-ring. Maggie, Viola decided, was way too fucking sweet. No way Grey chose such a goddamn angel. Maggie was too sweet to be true. There was something up.
“So what grade, do you think?” Viola asked, switching topics abruptly. This girl wasn’t going to bad-mouth Grey or give her dirt. She just wasn’t the type. So Viola needed to figure out a secret way into the real picture of Grey’s new life.
“Oh.” Maggie took a minute to re-calibrate herself to the shift in discussion. “The younger ones, I think. Kindergarten, first, maybe second.”
Hm. “My dad taught sixth.”
“Yes, he mentioned. Did he have you?” Maggie asked.
Viola blinked.
“As a student, I mean? Was he your teacher?” the girl clarified.
Viola felt a sly grin spreading over her lips at the innocently on-point phrasing. She cleared her throat and kept her wicked grin in check. “Nah, he was principal already by the time I got to sixth grade.” She wanted to burst into giggles. Now all she could think about was that night. About her Dad. In very un-dad-like ways. “But you wanna teach the little ones?” Viola didn’t want to talk about herself, she wanted to know more about miss perfect pie over here.
“I do. Like Lola’s age.” She said, her eyes getting far-away as she pondered it.
“So you like kids.” Viola said, something starting to form into an idea.
“I do.” Maggie responded warmly.
“You want any?” Viola asked slyly, giving her new sister-in-law a sidelong glance.
Aha! The girl blushed and began twisting her religious medal and swallowing hard. Holy shit! He’d knocked her up?!?!? Maybe. Viola felt the rising excitement, but she quelled it ruthlessly. She knew things about her brother that he’d probably rather she didn’t. But people talked. Her sisters most of all, and Avalon had had quite a few friends that had found themselves in distinctly awkward and inconvenient circumstances after Grey had decided to give them the time of day.
Long story short, getting a girl pregnant did not equal rings and vows for Grey Delaney.
But, then, why the furious blush and the stammering?
Maggie was saying things, but all Viola could hear was bullshit. So the girl did have a dishonest bone in her body. And it had to do with the ole fertility hot-button. Curiouser and curiouser.
“Does Grey want babies?!” Viola asked in her best impression of a perky, innocent little sister. She made her expression all exclamation points and squee!
“Why, you giving some away?” Grey’s sardonic voice rumbled from the door way.
Maggie practically leapt off the bed.
Viola slipped her eyes from the jumpy little Latina to her newly arrived brother, whose casual confidence was little more than a brittle veneer. He was radiating ‘pissed-the-fuck-off’, but not with her, likely with the sitch downstairs. She flashed him a wicked grin. “Hey big brother.” She said. “I rescued Maggie from the gorgon. We’re having girl time.”
“Not anymore.” Grey said. “You’re a bad influence.” He winked at her, but he was only half-kidding.
He turned his pale green gaze onto Maggie. Viola watched a silent communication going on between them. Whoa. Weird. She felt like she was in the fucking twilight zone.
Whatever he was looking for, he found confirmation of it in Maggie’s face and relaxed marginally. She didn’t. She got more jumpy. “Is everything ok with, with your grandmother?”
“Looking for my stash?” Grey asked Viola, ignoring Maggie’s tentative question.
Viola laughed. “I found that shit like, a year ago.”
Grey raised a skeptical eyebrow and crossed purposefully to a small chest of drawers set atop the desk. Instead of opening it, he pulled it away from the wall. Maggie watched this with great curiosity, even craning her neck to see. He popped off the false back carefully.
“You sneaky little shit.” He said appreciatively.
“Losers weepers.” Viola snarked.
“What did you keep in there?” Maggie breathed, seemingly captivated by the secret hiding place.
Grey turned his head. “Bible passages.” He said, dead pan. Maggie frowned and Viola thought she saw something spark within those wide chocolate depths. Something feisty and fiery. Grey turned back to Viola, barely concealing a smirk. That was the Grey Viola knew and loved. The one who couldn’t abide goody-two-shoes types, and lived to get a rise out of the wholesome ones among us. “Is there anything left?” He asked, sounding a little in awe and maybe a mite concerned.
“I didn’t use everything for Christ’s sake.” Viola rolled her eyes. “I sold a bunch.”
“Jesus, Viola, what the fuck?”
“You want a cut?” She asked flippantly.
“No, moron, I don’t want my sister getting busted as a fucking dealer.”
Wordlessly Grey’s little bride moved to the door. They both halted their back-and-forth to watch her. Was this all too much for the little saint? But Maggie didn’t leave; instead she closed the bedroom door quietly.
“Someone’s coming upstairs.” She whispered.
Viola gaped a little and checked to see Grey’s reaction. He looked fairly mystified by this little turn of events too. “Magalita.” He said, a funny quality to his voice. “Is tu familia used to hiding things from the narcs?”
She looked deeply wounded.
“Oh, you’d rather I leave it open for your mother or father to hear this conversation?” She snapped.
Viola couldn’t resist smiling. This girl had more to her than kindness and humility. She had a feisty side.
Grey grunted.
The three of them listened for a minute.
“Who the fuck is it?” Viola whispered.
Grey moved as silent as a cat burglar over to the door and stood mere inches from Maggie.
There was a knock, but not on his door.
Oh, fuck. Viola hopped off the bed. Was her dad looking for her? Holy shit. She needed to get out of here. She hustled to the door but Grey held out a hand to stop her in her tracks. Fuh-huh-huck. He finally comes looking for her and she’s trapped in the twilight-zone with bizarro Lucy and Desi?!
“Vienna, honey?” Viola’s nerves tingled like live wires at the sound of her dad’s voice. She sizzled with jealousy at hearing him seeking out her older sister. Obviously not for sex, but still. These days any attention he lavished elsewhere pissed her right the fuck off. “It’d Dad.” He said unnecessarily. “Mind if I come in?” He said to the door. The sound of indie college folk rock was all he got in the way of an answer. “Vee, love, I need to have a few words.” Viola thought he sounded tired and largely disinterested, but she guessed to most people his tone would pass as sympathetic and gentle. Of course, she alone knew he had more pressing drama on his mind; she hardly thought he could really give two shits about Vienna’s nauseatingly trite break-up with some Bob Dylan wannabe.
They all heard the folk get louder as the twins’ bedroom door opened, a few mumbled words, and then the music got quieter again. She’d let him in.
Viola watched her brother rake his eyes over his wife in a very carnal way. Yikes. The curly-haired chica met his eyes and blushed, biting her lower lip nervously. These two were married?
Grey seemed to struggle to drag his eyes off her. “So, what’s left? Do you have something? Anything?”
Viola giggled. “Now who’s the bad influence?” She sassed.
“I’mma kill Gran if I don’t have something soon.” He said matter-of-factly.
Viola rolled her eyes. “I’ll see what I’ve got.” She sighed lazily. “Scotch won’t do the trick?”
Grey made a disgusted sound. “I’m not allowed to touch it till after dinner.” He said sourly. “You know how Nolan gets, and Mum insists I won’t be able to taste the fucking food.”
“Plus there’s the side-effects.” Viola said with a cocked eyebrow.
Grey looked momentarily baffled. Viola pretended to yawn broadly and made a surreptitious hand gesture as she did so, her forefinger and middle finger forming a ‘V’, her tongue dancing between them for the briefest of moments.
Grey let out a bark of laughter. Maggie looked lost.
“Hurry the fuck up.” He said with a grin and held the door open for her.
“Be right back you two—don’t get carried away, unless you get off on being watched.” The last thing Viola saw before sauntering from Grey’s old bedroom was her new sister in law’s jaw drop and her eyes get all round and shocked.
Way too fucking sweet for Grey.
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