Opus One

Chapter 3: Scherzo

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ryansylander/www/

Back Home

Seven-thirty came too soon.  Richard fumbled for his alarm, at last silencing the wretched noise. 

He was about to doze off when he remembered the morning plans, so he sat up quickly before he lost the battle with the snooze button. 

Jer wasn’t in his bed.  Weird.  He doesn’t seem like the early rising type, Richard thought.  Bathroom?

After Richard showered and put on some clothes, Jer hadn’t returned, so Richard just left a note saying that he had to take off.

Richard hurried down the stairs and almost walked out into the lounge by habit, when he heard the clamor of the assembled first-years through the stairwell door.  Oops.  He turned and went down the hall to the side exit.

The morning was a little cool, which was welcome after the two stifling days that had come before.  As Richard walked to Buck’s coffee house, he checked his watch.  It was just after eight.  He wondered if Sandra would be late.

When he got to Buck’s, the girls were there.  They were standing idly by the door. 

“Ah, there he is.  Your teacher was right, you are late,” Emily chided.

“Well, you can take your late and…”

“And?” Emily challenged.

“What’s good here?” Richard asked Sandra, ignoring Emily’s look.

“Never been here,” Sandra said.

“Iced mochas, the croissants are great, good tea selection,” Emily said.

The trio ended up with three iced mochas and three croissants.  Down to two dollars in the wallet, Richard thought ruefully as he pocketed his change.  He already had broken the twenty-five dollar barrier in his bank account, too.  Luckily the meal plan starts tomorrow.

“Where’s your roommate?” Emily asked Richard as they walked.

“I have no idea.  I asked him last night if he wanted to come, and he said to wake him up.  But he was already gone when I woke up.”

“Oh well, his loss,” Emily said.

“I’m guessing he forgot.  When I got back last night he was stoned and half-asleep.”

Emily chuckled.  “Ah.  Then I’d say he’ll never remember you even asking.”

“So how are we getting downtown again?” Sandra asked.

“There’s a train that goes in.  There’s a stop just a few blocks past that place we ate at the other night.”

“And what’s the plan for today?”

“No plan.  Let’s just be vagrants,” Emily said.  “As long as we’re over at the museum by one, we should be fine to get in with the group.”

They walked the few blocks to the train stop, and climbed the stairs to reach the platform.

“How much does this thing cost?” Richard asked suddenly as the train approached.

“I don’t know, probably a buck fifty.”

“Great , I can get to town, but I can’t get back!  I didn’t get money out this morning, and I just have two dollars and change on me.”

“I can spot you, don’t worry,” Emily said.

“And there’s probably an ATM downtown, since you might want to eat,” Sandra added. 

Richard nodded.  The train came soon, and they boarded and paid the fare. 

“A dollar and seven cents,” Richard said, as they sat in some seats.  “That’s just enough for gum at lunch!”

The girls laughed.

“Seriously.  First thing, let me hit the ATM,” he said.

The train went fairly quickly, stopping about every twenty blocks.  In ten minutes they were at the terminal downtown.

“This is actually pretty neat, for getting into town,” Sandra said.

Emily and Richard had to agree.

An ATM was right in the foyer of the terminal, so Richard went over to use it.  Sandra watched him as he pressed buttons.  Taking longer than usual to get ten dollars out, she thought.  Emily was over getting a city map from the information booth.

Finally Richard finished and came over to Sandra.

“This sucks!  I can’t get my money out.”

“Why not?”

“I have eighteen dollars in there, and the machine only lets you take out in twenties.  Arrgh!”

“That does suck!” Sandra said, but she couldn’t help laughing.  Richard’s dwindling cash was a source of amusement for the three of them now.  Although he was a little sensitive about it that first night, Sandra remembered, and choked off her laugh.

Emily returned.  “Ready?”

“I guess. I may have to take you up on that offer to borrow some cash, though.”

He related the situation to Emily.

“But wait!” he suddenly exclaimed.  “Here, let me borrow ten dollars for a couple of minutes,” he said to Emily.

“A couple of minutes?” Emily asked doubtfully.  “Are you going to beg for money on the corner to pay me back?”

Sandra giggled.

“No, but I will pay you back in a couple of minutes if you let me borrow a ten,” he insisted.

Emily shrugged and pulled out the bill.  Richard took it and went back to the ATM. 

What the hell is he doing? Sandra wondered.

Emily and Sandra both burst out laughing as they watched Richard seal up and deposit the ten dollars into his account, and then withdraw a twenty from the ATM.

He came over, holding the bill triumphantly and grinning ear to ear.  Pretty slick, and pretty funny, Sandra thought, laughing.

“Desperation,” Emily said, chuckling and shaking her head.  “Just for that, I’ll let you keep the ten dollars.”

“No way.  I’m paying you back.  I just need to get some change.”  Richard was looking around for a place to split the bill.

“Richard, it’s fine.  Just pay me back later, then.  Let’s go have fun!  We don’t need to waste the morning with dubious banking transactions.”

Richard relented, and thanked Emily.

Sandra could see the attraction between them, and smiled.  But he’s given me some looks too, she thought idly.  Has he noticed mine?

Richard caught her staring at him, and grinned at her.  Sandra grinned back, and the trio went out the double glass doors and into the city.

The morning was a riot.  Emily led them throughout the city, refusing to relinquish the ‘priceless and rare’ map she had paid a quarter for at the terminal.  She had also bought a cheap, black beret at a costume store they passed, and she was the tour guide.  She made up crazy stories about what this building was for, or what had happened on this corner in 1845.

The icing on the cake came just as they had sat down on a shady bench at a busy intersection.  They had gotten three hotdogs and three cokes, and it was almost time to take the train back to go to the art museum.  The beret was staying behind to adorn the top of the bench post. 

The day had gotten hot after all, but the shade and cold sodas were the perfect foil for the midday sun.  As they ate, Sandra suddenly pointed at the street with mouth full and eyes wide.  Richard and Emily didn’t notice her as they talked.

“Holy shit, look!” she managed, finally swallowing her food.

Emily and Richard looked up.  Stopped at the light was a school bus, and sitting inside were the familiar faces of the Wexford Conservatory first-years.  The three of them watched as their miserable looking peers peeked out at them.  The windows on the bus were all open, and everyone looked hot and bothered.  Some of them smiled and pointed out at the three truants, and a few faces appeared over the shoulders of those at the windows to see what the commotion was. 

Some smiled, others didn’t.  Emily noticed the same ones who didn’t smile now hadn’t smiled at Sandra’s pig story.  Some people, Emily thought.

Then the light turned green, and the bus was gone.  Richard, Sandra and Emily, who had been trying to keep a straight face as the bus riders looked on, now laughed so hard that Richard dropped his soda onto the concrete with a splatter of plastic and sizzling liquid.  Sandra had to grin as Emily passed him her cup to share.

“I wonder if Joey saw us from the bus,” Richard said.

“Who cares?” Emily retorted.  “Did you see the look on their faces?  That was worth the whole orientation bore right there!”

“I bet Joey didn’t know we were a stop on the city tour!” Sandra said.

Richard laughed, and let go of his anxiety over being seen.

“To the art museum!” Emily exclaimed, as they tossed their cups out and made their way back to the terminal.

The Wexford Conservatory of Music was situated on the campus of Sheridan College, a small liberal arts school.  The two were separate entities, although the conservatory students used some services that the college provided, such as the cafeteria, access to non-music classes, and the campus bus system.  The dorm in which the music students lived was for Wexford students only, and a mere thirty yards from the two music conservatory buildings.

Sheridan College and the Wexford Conservatory were nestled in the arts district of town, an area which also supported the city’s art museum, the symphony orchestra hall, a few large parks and gardens, and a decent sampling of nice restaurants.

The art museum sprawled over a large section of the arts district.  It was a classical building at one end, complete with grand frontage and columns, attached beautifully to a modern architectural masterpiece on the other end, a wildly curved concoction of silvered metals and concrete.

“That’s a crazy building,” Richard remarked as they approached the modern entrance.  There was a group of music students congregating off to one side, so they made their way over to meet them.  Richard looked around for Jer, but he wasn’t in the group.  A few people whispered as they saw the trio approach.

Joey, the resident director, spotted them and walked over.

“Decided to join us, I see,” he said with a smirk.  He mostly talked to Sandra, Richard noticed.

“Yeah, we got up a little too late for the real tour,” Sandra said, smiling innocently.

“I see,” he repeated.  “Are you coming on the museum tour, or making your own way again?”

Sandra just shrugged.  Joey chuckled, shook his head, and turned back towards the group.

“All right, let’s go people!  Line up!” he yelled.

“I think this guy was a camp counselor for way too long,” Richard whispered to Emily.  She sniggered and nodded as they filed into the museum.

As soon as they entered the museum, Emily, Sandra and Richard broke off and headed in a different direction than the others.  The museum was organized roughly chronologically, Emily announced.  She had again secured the map for the afternoon.  The way they were going to walk, they would see everything backwards in time.

“Ooh, is that safe?” Sandra said with pretend fear.

“Why not?  They recommend going clockwise, so let’s go counter.”

Richard shrugged when Emily looked at him. “I don’t care,” he said.

“Modern first, then,” she said, leading them into the first (or last?) gallery.  “You see, this way we can start with the coolest stuff and just leave when we’re bored or hungry.” 

“The coolest stuff?  You like modern art more than the classics?” Sandra asked.

“Well, sure.  Some of it is junk, but there’s some really powerful modern art.”

“But there’s powerful art from all periods,” Richard argued.

“I agree,” Emily said.  “But see, most of the older stuff has withstood the test of time.  People have thrown it up on the wall, and what we see now is what has stuck.  But with modern art, it’s fresh.  The stuff is still goopy, dripping down the wall.  No one knows what will still be great in a hundred, a thousand years.  You are seeing art, before it becomes art history.”

Sandra and Richard smirked at each other behind Emily.

“I saw that,” Emily said.

The pair laughed. 

“All right,” Richard said, “but the stuff that has withstood the test of time, it is great.  Why do you want to filter through junk – like this piece here?”  Richard pointed at a gaudy construction of metal fragments from 1950’s American advertisement.  The piece sat in the middle of the room.  “I mean, this is a pop culture nightmare.”

“I like it,” Emily said.

“Seriously?” Sandra asked.

“No, not really.  This probably won’t stick to the wall in a hundred years.”

“God, it’s awful.  I’d like to throw it against the wall,” Richard said darkly.

“The alarms will probably go off,” Emily dismissed.  She looked suddenly to a painting.  “Ah, but this.  Look at this here.  It’s fucking brilliant.”

An elderly couple looking at the next piece over gave Emily a scowl.

“Look at the interplay of the lighting and the paint,” she continued, ignoring the look.  “That’s neat.”

The painting was a texture, really, like someone had added color on a canvas at random.  But it wasn’t quite brushed on, or scraped on, or dripped on.  More like it was willed on, one molecule at a time.  The whole piece looked like it was painted inside of pieces of shiny glass.

Running throughout the work were blue veins of luminescent paint, almost looking like hypoxic blood flowing through folds in paper.  Towards the top center, the painting glowed with a radiant orange burst, like it was translucent and illuminated from the back.

“What is it, though?” Sandra asked.

“It’s not,” Emily answered.  “But it’s beautiful.  I mean, look at the orange glow in the center.  Is that the way it’s painted?  Or is the whole painting exactly the same, and it’s the light that brings out the orange glow just where it shines?”

Richard and Sandra considered the painting more closely.

“I see what you mean,” Richard suddenly said.  “If you turned the spotlight off, the whole thing would be the same colors and texture, like in the corners, I think.”

Richard stretched and tried to wave a hand in front of the light.  He went a little too far past the barrier, and an alarm sounded for a few seconds before Richard backed away.  The elderly couple left the room after offering another ignored glare.

“Good one, Riccardo,” Emily said, chuckling.

“Oops.”

A museum docent came into the far end of the room to check on the infraction.

“Hi,” Emily called out to him.  “Sorry, my friend here has trouble following the rules.”

Richard glared at her. 

“I have a question about this painting, though,” Emily added.

The docent came over.  “Yes?”

“What happens if you turn off the light?” she asked.

“Ah.  Indeed, you are asking if the glow is painted on, or just lit?”

“Well, yes.  I’m sure you know the answer.  But can you turn out the light?”

Richard grinned at Emily’s command.  The docent smiled.

“Yes, I could do that.”  He walked over to a lock box on the wall and keyed it.  A moment later the spotlight on the painting started to dim.  The trio watched the orange glow slowly recede as the light turned off. 

The painting was now a dull gray, blue and orange abstraction.  There was no more orange in the center than anywhere else.  All the life was gone; it was just some muted colors on the wall.

The lights slowly faded back on, and the painting’s glow turned on with it.

“Cool,” Richard said.

The girls agreed.

“It’s an Asian technique,” the docent explained, returning to the group.  “The artist uses oil, Chinese ink, pigments and rice paper on the canvas.  A time-consuming process, and only learned after decades of practice.  There can be hundreds of layers of painted rice paper stretched over the canvas.”

“Whoa.  Is that what gives it the glow?”

“Yes, the layering and the oil give it that translucent quality, which really reacts well to lighting.”

“Thank you,” Emily said.  He nodded and wandered off.

“That would stick on the wall for me,” Emily said as they continued through the contemporary wing.

“Pretty awesome,” Richard agreed.

“It is cool, but it’s too abstract for me,” Sandra said.  “I like knowing what the painting is.”

“Well, here you go then,” Richard said as they stopped in front of another painting.

“God, no!” Sandra exclaimed.  “That makes me want to kill myself.”

“You said you liked paintings where you know what it is,” Richard reminded her.

“Yeah, but this is like a painting of the end of the world,” Sandra said.

The canvas was a bleak depiction of a some old railroad tracks leading to the horizon of an acidic sky.  The muted gray paints and almost plaster-like textures, accented by violent burn marks and cuts, were desolate beyond description.  The painting was at once gripping and repulsive.

Nothing was said for a long time as the trio studied the haunting work.

“You know, as depressing as this is, I can’t stop looking at it,” Emily said.

Richard and Sandra murmured.

Finally Emily broke the spell.  “Come on, let’s see what’s in the next room.”

“Here, that’s more like what I like,” Sandra said, pointing at a canvas.

It was a famous painting, a colorful depiction of some vaguely nude figures dancing behind a vase of flowers.

Sandra took Emily’s hand and moved into the pose of the dominant figure, the graceful step of a dancer circling to the left.

Emily looked at the painting, and imitated the posterior figure, more angular than Sandra’s persona.

“You know,” Richard said, moving to take Emily’s position from her, “that looks more like a male to me.”

“So what?” Emily said as she shooed his hand away.  “They’re also nude.  And Sandra is blonde.  And we don’t have any flowers.  And…”

“All right, all right.  Here, I’ll be the disembodied arm on the right there.”

Richard took Emily’s free hand and stretched out away from her.  The three looked at the painting, then at each other, and finally laughed.

Emily didn’t let go of Sandra or Richard’s hands as she pulled them onwards.

The museum was closing in fifteen minutes.  The trio were buried deep in the Romantic wing, imitating any and all paintings and sculptures involving interesting poses.

They were facing a marble statue.  None of them were looking at each other, but all three of them were grinning slightly. 

“Okay, moving on,” Richard said, and started off.

Emily grabbed his arm.  “What’s wrong?” she teased.

“Um, that’s a great sculpture, but I’m done looking at it.”

“But we haven’t posed it!” Emily said. 

Richard met her defiant stare.

“We can’t do that here!” he said in a quiet but urgent voice.  “Look, there are cameras watching us.”

“Most of those are fake, I’ve heard,” Sandra said.  Richard was slightly surprised to hear her arguing in Emily’s favor. 

“Whatever.  At least one is real,” Richard protested.

“So?  We’re not doing anything wrong,” Emily said.

“Come on, I bet the security guards could use a good laugh.” Sandra added.

Well, if she’s game, then I guess I am, he thought. 

Richard shrugged and looked at the statue again.  Three figures.  Each was a woman.  That didn’t bother him, he’d already played the part of a woman countless times in their poses that day.  But their positioning and touches took on a whole different meaning if played by a man.

“All right, but if that docent comes by again, I’m telling him it was your idea!” Richard said to Emily.

“At this point, if he comes by again, we’re going to use him in the pose and you can just watch,” Emily replied, making a face at Richard.  He laughed as his tension melted away.

“So, who’s in the middle?” Sandra asked.

No one said anything as they imagined the options.

“I’ll be in the middle,” Richard said.  It seemed the least… intrusive.

“All right, stand like her.”

Richard look at the woman, and stood with his legs slightly apart, waist twisted and back bent some.

Sandra then stood behind him, sweeping an arm over his shoulder and clasping her hand to his ribcage.  Her other arm wrapped around his stomach.  She’s really holding me tight, he thought.

“I’m barely tall enough to reach,” she said. 

Richard glanced down and noticed she was on tiptoes.

Emily then knelt in front of Richard, wrapping her arms around his waist and clasping them behind his lower back.  She pressed her head against his upper thigh.

They held the pose a bit unsteadily for a moment.  Richard felt a tingle go up his spine as the two girls hugged and pulled on him.  I wish I could see this pose.

“We should have brought a mirror, damn it!” Sandra said, echoing his thoughts.

Emily laughed, and shifted slightly, pushing on Richard.

“Wait, whoa!” Richard yelped as he lost his balance.  He stepped back, got caught up on Sandra’s leg, and fell.  Luckily Sandra still had him in her arms, and he landed lightly on his butt.  Sandra laughed wildly as Emily tried to untangle herself from Richard’s legs.  She had somehow gotten caught up when he was trying to regain his balance.

When Emily finally extricated herself, the trio were laughing uncontrollably.

“Shh!” Richard admonished, but he couldn’t even control his own laughter, let alone the girls’.

Finally they composed themselves.  “Shit.  That was funny.  Is anyone hungry?” Emily asked.

“Yeah, starved,” Sandra said.

“Me too.  Let’s go buy some food.  At this rate we’ll be lucky to eat by eight,” Richard lamented.

“That’s all right, we can get something to snack on first,” Sandra said.

“We only got through a fourth of the museum,” Emily said.  “So much for leaving early.”

“I guess we’ll have to come back,” Sandra said.

“Yeah, and pose with the docent next time,” Emily agreed.

“Hey!” Richard protested.

Emily just smiled at him with her eyes, and then turned and headed for the exit.  “Come on, I’m hungry!”

“We should model for an art class,” Emily said, as they served up the rice, vegetables and cup-a-soups.  Emily had bought a half-dozen bottles of wine as well, and they were through the first one already.

“Right,” Richard answered.

“I’m going to take art this semester,” Emily continued.  “Life drawing is part of the course.  Maybe I can get us in the modeling loop.”

“That’s just what they need, a bunch of amateurs falling on their asses and laughing every minute,” Richard said.

“Hey, we only did that once,” Emily said.  “Well, the falling part, anyway.  Besides, you should have been in the middle,” she said to Sandra.  “Richard is the tallest, so he’d anchor the pose from the back.  You’d just have to lean against him.”

Sandra and Richard both blushed slightly as the implications of switching positions ran through their heads.  I could think of worse things than having Richard wrap his arms around me, Sandra thought.

“Well, I’m not getting nude with two women in front of a whole classroom of students,” Richard said dramatically.

“Like you wouldn’t love that.  But seriously, who said anything about nude?” Emily chided.

“Oh.  Right,” Richard said sheepishly.

“Here, have some more wine, Richard.  Maybe it will clear your head.”

“Mmm, this food is good,” Sandra said.  “I wish we had thought of this earlier in the week.”

“Well, when we need a break from cafeteria food, we can always cook for ourselves.”

“What classes are you taking, Richard?” Sandra asked.

“Um, let’s see, ear training, piano seminar, theory…”

“Whose theory classes are you in?” Emily interrupted.

“I think I have Dobra for ear training and Connelly for theory.”

“Sucker, Dobra is supposed to be the hardest,” Emily said.

“Really?  I have him too,” Sandra lamented.

“Connelly is supposed to be easy, or so I’ve heard,” Emily said.  “I have her, for theory.  Looks like we’ll all be in that one together.”

“No, I have Dobra for both classes!” Sandra wailed. 

“Ouch.”

Just my luck, she thought.  At least I have one of the classes with Richard.

 “Maybe he’s not that bad,” Richard said, hoping it was true.  The little theory he had done with his piano teacher in high school had been somewhat difficult.

“People call him Doberman,” Emily said simply.

Sandra and Richard looked at each other worriedly.

“What are you taking for electives?” Emily asked.

“I have to take English,” Richard said.

“Me too,” Sandra said.

“I got credit from AP, so I’m taking art instead,” said Emily.

“You’re lucky,” Richard said, finishing his wine glass.

“No, I worked hard in high school.  There was no luck involved,” she answered.

“Speaking of work, either of you practice today?” Richard asked.

“No, when would we have done that?  We were with you the whole day.”

“Maybe you got up at five.”

“Right, that’ll be the day,” Emily said.  She finished the second bottle as she filled everyone’s glasses.

“Hey, how much do we owe you for this wine?” Richard said.

“It’s on me.”

“No way, I want to pay you my share,” Richard insisted.  “You’ve been buying because you have the ID, but I still want to pitch in.”

“You have no money.  How are you going to pitch in?” Emily asked.

“I’ll pay you when I get my work-study check.”

“Well, there’s no need.”

Emily and Richard went back and forth for a bit, neither backing down. 

Sandra excused herself to the bathroom.  As she shut the door to the stall, she leaned back against it.  The wine was thick in her head.  Richard was too.  She knew Emily and Richard were hitting it off, even as they argued about the money.  It’s inevitable, she thought.  They’ll be hooking up soon.  Emily’s so smart, and sassy, and he obviously likes that.  And she’s cute.  But what about those looks he’s given me?  Guys give me those looks all the time, she reminded herself.  But not those looks.  And god, did he feel good in the art museum.  She laughed out loud slightly at the memory.  But I couldn’t do that to Emily.  I like her too much.  Plus I have to live with her.

She sighed as she heard someone come in.  I wish it was Richard, she thought, and then pushed the thought away.  Sandra flushed the toilet and stepped out into the common area of the bathroom, said hi to the girl brushing her teeth, and then went back to her room. 

When she returned, the discussion about paying for the wine was over.  Richard was sitting in the desk chair sipping his wine, and Emily had switched to the dim light of the corner lamp.  Sandra was glad; she hated overhead bulbs.

“I’m serious, I’m going to check it out,” Emily was saying.

“All right, go ahead,” Richard said with a shrug.

“Here, she’s back.  Let’s try that pose again,” Emily said, pulling on Richard’s hand.

Sandra felt a tingle shoot through her as Emily angled the closet door open slightly.  The full length mirror that hung on it would reflect their pose back to them. 

No one spoke as Sandra positioned herself in the center of the room.  She twisted herself back as Richard stepped up behind her.  She could feel his body just near to her, almost touching.  Then his arms snaked around her.  His forearm lay right through the valley between her breasts.  I wonder if he can feel my heart pounding, she thought.

Emily positioned herself in front of Sandra, pulling on her waist, pressing her head against Sandra’s hip.  The three of them looked at each other in the mirror.

Sandra caught the eyes of the two people hugging her, and wondered what they were thinking.  Were they feeling as adventurous, as sensual as she felt right then?  The world was slower from the wine, and the dim light made the pose surreal.  Maybe Emily was right; they should model.  She wanted to see themselves captured on canvas.  Even pencil on paper. 

“What’s for dessert?” Sandra asked.

Richard turned, and smiled sweetly at her.

“What?” Sandra asked.

“Nothing.  We didn’t get any dessert,” he said.

“I know.  I’m actually stuffed anyway.”

Richard yawned loudly.  “Sorry.  I’m beat.  I think I’m going to turn in.”

“Ready for cafeteria food tomorrow?” Sandra said.

“I guess,” he said, though his face said that he wasn’t.  “I’m going to practice in the morning.  Gotta make up for today.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Emily was oddly quiet as she lay on her bed.

“Goodnight, Emily,” Richard said, giving her a gentle caress on her hair.

“Night, Richard,” she smiled at him.

“Goodnight Sandra.”

“Goodnight.”

Richard pulled her into a hug.  One hand caressed her hair, and she inadvertently let out a murmur.

“We never got our head massages,” she said softly.

“Oh, you’re right.  I’ll give you a quick one.”

Richard sat on her bed, and Sandra sat herself on the floor in front of him.

Emily turned and watched them.

“You want one too?” he asked.

Emily smiled and nodded.

Richard’s touch was wonderful.  It was like he was making music with her hair, a million-stringed harp that he knew just how to play.

All too soon it was Emily’s turn.  Sandra climbed onto her bed, curling herself behind Richard as he gave Emily her treatment.

After a few minutes, she put her hand on Richard’s back and rubbed it gently, feeling his back muscles flexing slightly as he moved his arms.  She wondered how the power in his muscles translated to such delicate touches in her hair.  There is great power in holding power in reserve, she thought.

The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was Richard and Emily hugging in the center of the room.  She could see both their faces, one directly and one in the mirror, and they both looked content.

Forward to Chapter 4

Back Home