What It Feels Like
“What the hell am I going to do with all this?” Carol grumbled, going through her personal finances. The bills were piling up, and the money she was making wasn’t cutting it at all. Over the years the Airds had gotten so used to their opulent lifestyle, Carol still didn’t know how to adjust their spending to the diminished means at their disposal. She had done her best, and for a while she had thought she had had everything under control, but living in their big house and providing Harge the constant care he demanded was proving to be far too costly.
“Anything I can help you with?” Abby asked, bringing over a fresh pot of tea. Gently she laid her hand on Carol’s shoulder and leaned in to see what was troubling her.
“It’s money,” Carol sighed, “it’s always money – trying to get through yet another month without no real solution to the pending disaster.” She patted Abby’s soothing hand.
“There could be a way out of this, you know,” Abby said cautiously, “if you’re willing to give it a thought.” She hesitated to continue what she had started. “I mean you are paying me a huge amount of money each month.” She sat down next to Carol.
Carol wasn’t sure where Abby was getting at with her comment. “You are a professional, and I’ve hired you to do a job, so of course I pay you,” she stated matter-of-factly. “It’s not like I can skimp on Harge’s care, and besides he seems to like you.” She smiled at Abby, hoping she could in this way reassure her of her steady employment.
“Yes, but…” Abby began uncertainly. “It’s just that I wouldn’t need to be paid so much if…” She fell silent not knowing how to finish what she meant to convey.
“If what?” Carol asked, taken aback by Abby’s sudden confusion.
“If I would live here with you,” she blurted out finally. “I could give away my own apartment and stay here fulltime.” As soon as Abby had said it, she was impatient to know how Carol really felt about her proposition.
“Oh…” Carol said, flustered, “I see.” It certainly wasn’t the answer Abby had hoped for. “That’s a very kind offer, Abigail, too kind, really.” But no matter what she said could make the awkwardness disappear. Carol saw how Abby withdrew to herself, how hurt and, even worse, disappointed she looked. I have to think of something to make it better, to cheer her up.
“Abby…” she whispered, taking charge of the moment. “Let’s not make any rash decisions just because we may have to, okay?” she said, focusing her eyes on Abby’s lips. “We have a good thing going,” Carol muttered tasting them tentatively, knowing very well it would soon snowball into restless foreplay and sex. Feeling Abby’s fingers dig right under her bra cups, she squinted her eyes shut and feigned enthusiasm. She would get excited in the end, Carol convinced herself, and even though she wasn’t looking forward to it, it would at least put an end to this weird and thoroughly inappropriate conversation.
“Carol, darling!” The smile on the woman’s face seemed genuinely delighted. “I’m so glad you could make it, it’s been ages since we’ve had any time to truly catch up.” She kissed the air on both sides of Carol’s ears, which always struck her as peculiar.
“Genevieve, the pleasure’s all mine,” she reciprocated as warmly as she could, and sat down at the table reserved for their lunch appointment. Her cheeks were glowing slightly like always when she knew she would have to put her best foot forward. Genevieve Cantrell was, after all, one of the big bosses Carol had to suck up to. At least she’s interested in what we’re doing unlike some of the old geezers, Carol mused. Many of the longstanding trustees barely had a pulse anymore, and could not be bothered with the museum’s business in any active role.
“I got myself a Cobb salad. What would you like, Carol? Let’s put this on the expense account,” Genevieve said winking at her.
“I’ll have the same,” Carol agreed, nodding at the passing waiter who promptly took note of her order.
“How is everything going along, my dear?” Genevieve asked after the waiter had filled their glasses with dry and crisp Riesling. “Is there anything I can do for you?” Her connections, or rather her late husband’s good name, had proven useful many times.
“I think it’s finally happening,” Carol was relieved to tell her. “The French are cooperating perfectly, and I even managed to secure that young specialist you so kindly recommended. She seems just what we’d been looking for.” She was sure she had earned herself a sip of the fine wine.
Lady Cantrell looked very pleased. “That is marvelous news, Carol,” she complimented. “I knew that girl – well, I guess I should call her a woman, she is a grown-up after all – had a promising track record, but you can never tell if what you see on paper is what you find in the actual person.”
She’s a woman alright, Carol mused, listening to Genevieve Cantrell share her initial views on her newest recruit. “I don’t think we have to worry about her in any way. She is dedicated, hardworking, precise… what more could we possibly want?” She smiled at Genevieve in the way she hoped would clear her mind of all doubts.
“What a relief to hear all that,” Lady Cantrell beamed at Carol. “It’s such a load off my mind to know you’re handling this so assuredly,” she continued, squeezing Carol’s hand across the table. “But how’s your private life, darling? How’s good old Harge doing?” The look on her face was warm and compassionate.
“Oh, you know, same old, same old,” Carol replied, reluctant to delve into it much further. “He’s not going to get any better, ever.” She put it bluntly but then again it was the truth.
“But you do have help with him, don’t you?” Genevieve wanted to ascertain. “I’m worried about you having no life outside work, darling.” Carol was suddenly grateful to have her salad to fork around.
“I have very competent help, and I’m most grateful for it,” she replied, “but I’m afraid it’s only a temporary solution. I simply can’t afford to keep the current arrangement going on for much longer.” Too much information, Carol thought immediately, but when she noticed how understanding Genevieve appeared to be, she didn’t feel too bad about it. Well, I said it. No harm done.
“I trust you will be able to come to the fundraiser on Saturday night?” Lady Cantrell asked when the topic of Carol’s personal life had been finally exhausted.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Carol said, beaming at Genevieve. “It is an important part of my work to kiss the hands that feed us.” She raised her glass to toast the upcoming event, a gesture Lady Cantrell happily returned.
“Do I really have to wear this penguin suit?” Dannie wailed as Therese was straightening his tie in front of a mirror. He wasn’t used to dressing up; as a matter of fact, he wasn’t used to dressing nicely at all. He glanced longingly at his torn jeans and snuggly flannel shirt he had on most days.
“Yes, you do,” Therese said in a manner that defied all objections. “You are my husband, and you must look your best escorting me out there tonight.” Dannie let out a sad little sigh, indicating he no longer intended to put up a fight.
She herself was donning a black, knee-length dress with lace panels on chest and thighs. With its generous neckline, it was far too daring for her taste but then again it hadn’t been her choice. Her hair was parted in the center and pulled back into a low ponytail, every last detail done according to Madame’s demands. “Go easy with the make-up, and show off your perfect skin, just some dark red lipstick to make that delicious mouth of yours stand out,” she had said over the phone. “I want her to really look at you.”
Therese knew Carol had looked at her already. She had gotten so many women to pay attention to her, she was well aware when and how she was being gawked at. When Madame had asked her about it, she had been reluctant to say anything on the matter. “I think she’s pleased with me,” Therese had acquiesced to say instead.
“You look beautiful, Therese,” Dannie said, finally able to see beyond his petty grievance. “You are absolutely stunning.” His words, meant as candid and heartfelt, had an adverse effect on Therese who remembered the same sentiment from an entirely different time and place.
“You look absolutely stunning, Therese,” Karen said, admiring the new red dress Therese was wearing, the one she had just bought for her 18th birthday. “I knew you were pretty the moment I laid my eyes on you but never in a million years did I expect to find you this gorgeous.” She circled Therese like a cat with its tail held up high, stepping silently on soft paws.
Karen’s words melted Therese for she wanted very much to please her. Blushing out of sheer pleasure, she didn’t know how to respond to such a compliment. All Therese knew was that she wanted Karen to say those things to her, to notice her, to see that she was making a real effort, even if the studies she had started confused her a great deal. Karen wanted her to study gemology, precious stones, which she had found peculiar to say the least.
“Is there really work to be found in this field?” Therese had asked her cautiously, having browsed through the course material without understanding any of it. Seeing the disappointment on Karen’s face, she had regretted her hasty question immediately. Hadn’t Karen arranged everything just right for her so far? She had provided her with housing and healthcare, bought every piece of clothing she owned, even given her a small allowance to buy whatever she fancied, be it an inexpensive piece of jewelry or a glossy magazine. Therese didn’t tell Karen about the jewelry, though, for she suspected a woman of her stature wouldn’t understand such frivolity, but secretly she enjoyed her unassuming rhinestone treasures.
Martha, Karen’s friend who worked in the building she lived in, had seen the items she had hidden in her vanity, but as far as Therese knew, she had kept her guilty secret. Therese liked Martha. She was kind and gentle, helpful and caring. Whenever Therese felt lonely, she sought Martha’s company, and they would spend hours chatting idly, laughing at harebrained jokes and silly observations on life in general.
Tonight feels different, Therese thought, standing before Karen who looked at her as if she was seeing her for the first time. It was also the first time she had been invited to Karen’s room, the one she kept for herself in the dormitory Martha ran on her behalf. It was tastefully furnished with long, lush curtains in the windows, a chaise longue, an antique vanity and a huge canopy bed one couldn’t help but notice first when entering her boudoir.
Even Therese’s fingertips were pricking with nervous excitement, as she waited for something to commence, to tip the balance between them. Therese wanted it to happen, for she had seen it coming for a long time now. Is there anything worse than having to wait forever, no matter what it was one was waiting for? she had asked herself repeatedly.
“Happy Birthday, darling,” Karen said softly, handing Therese a flute of Champagne. “You are a grown woman now, and it’s only proper we celebrate it accordingly.” She sat on the edge of the bed and patted the place next to her. “Come here, Therese.”
Therese did as she was told as if in a dream. Her feet heavy, she found the few steps she had to take surprisingly difficult. Clumsily she sat down next to Karen, all too aware of the blood red haze coloring her face, dappling her bare arms. Therese was thirsty, and she wanted to drink, but as soon as the Champagne touched her lips, Karen took the glass away from her.
So this is how it happens, she thought as Karen pushed her on the mattress. This is what it feels like, raced through her brain when Karen’s mouth pressed voraciously against her throat. Therese was breathless and giddy, terrified and turned-on, but most of all she felt privileged, miraculously picked out from a faceless crowd to be made to feel like this, to be wanted like this by an exceptional woman who could have had anyone.
“Therese, welcome!” Carol beamed at her new assistant as soon as she saw her enter the ballroom with Dannie. “And this handsome young man must be your husband, am I right?” she asked, drawing out what was left from her smile to greet him courteously.
“Yes,” Therese acknowledged, “Darling – this is Carol Aird, my boss…” Noticing the faint freckles on Carol’s open chest, she lost her focus momentarily. “Umm… Mrs. Aird, this is Daniel, my husband.” Nodding, Dannie extended his hand to Carol.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Aird. Therese has told me so much about you,” Dannie grinned, turning on the charms.
“Good things I hope?” Carol laughed, winking at Dannie. He seems okay, she thought, even though she failed to see what attraction such a boy could possibly hold for her. “What do you do, Mr. Belivet? If you don’t mind my asking,” she continued.
Both Dannie and Therese burst out in chuckles, hearing Carol’s formulation. “It’s McElroy, Mrs. Aird, not Belivet,” Dannie corrected once he got over his initial amusement. “I’m afraid I couldn’t get Therese to take my name, but then again it was hardly a deal breaker for me.” Unwilling to discuss his profession in any detail, he was only grateful for the distraction. “I consider myself a very lucky man,” he said, placing a quick peck on Therese’s cheek.
“I’m sure you are,” Carol said, perturbed by his tender gesture. “I think I should introduce you two around,” she continued, looking away from Therese. As she ushered them forward, Carol realized she had placed her hand on the back of Therese’s dress. The young woman flinched under her touch at first, but when Carol was about to withdraw her palm, Therese slowed down her steps to let her fingers find the heated skin above the edge of her dress.
“Gen… Lady Cantrell,” Carol called out to her, “you must come and say hello to Therese.” Smiling, Genevieve Cantrell turned around to see whom Carol was talking about. “This is Therese Belivet, the new specialist I hired,” Carol explained enthusiastically. “I think she’s simply wonderful, and it’s all thanks to you that we have her here with us now.” That came out a bit extravagantly. “And this is her husband Daniel… McElroy, was it?” she asked Dannie, smiling graciously and forgetting him instantly.
“Therese Belivet…” Genevieve Cantrell said, her serene face radiating ready acceptance. “Carol speaks so highly of you, your ears must be burning every other day.” Her eyes were drilling a hole in Therese, which the object of all the attention didn’t find pleasurable at all.
“I believe I have you, Lady Cantrell, to thank for, for getting me this job,” Therese pointed out meekly. “I hope to live up to your expectations,” she went on, directing her words at Carol this time. “We will have exciting times ahead, preparing for the exhibition, and I am very aware of the tight schedule we face. Eleven months is not a long period of time when putting together a display of this magnitude.” She noticed Dannie shifting his weight nervously from one foot to another.
“With such a dedicated curator as Carol, and a charming husband by your side,” Lady Cantrell glanced at Dannie who tried to appear normal, “I’m sure you will do a splendid job.” She nodded at both Therese and Dannie before whisking Carol away for some urgent tête-a-tête.
“What on earth’s the matter with you?” Therese hissed at Dannie between gritted teeth. “Why are you acting so strange?” Looking pale, Dannie had beads of cold sweat on his forehead.
“You see that guy over there?” he whispered to Therese. “The one not too far away from your boss.” Therese tried to see whom he was talking about, but the man in question was presently surrounded by too many people. “It’s Richard,” Dannie muttered under his breath. “It’s fucking Richard.”
Therese let out an exasperated sigh. “Of course it’s Richard,” she said quietly, “did you really think he wouldn’t be here? With all the free booze and finger food floating around?” Therese took Dannie by the arm and approached Carol who seemed happy to have them approach her for a change.
“There’s one more person I absolutely have to get you together with,” Carol said, beaming. “Richard, will you join us for a second?” The man Dannie had so dreaded only a moment before walked swiftly over. “Therese, Daniel – may I introduce Richard Semco, the head of the museum security.” The tall, dark man grinned wickedly at the newcomers. “You must excuse Richard his bad manners,” Carol laughed, rolling her eyes. “He may look like a bad boy but deep down he’s gentle like a lamb, aren’t you, dear?”
Flashing a perfect set of white teeth, Richard looked very proud. “Whatever you say, Boss Lady, whatever you say.”