my Berkley Michigan kitchen 2017

just somebody I once knew; East Northport place

me at 15

Vanderbilt property

Oregon.It looked like mars

Northport Long Island NY; equestrian competition; photo taken by mom

Ashland OR

leaving Berkley Michigan 2017

Royal Osk MI last place with #2

2019

Talent Oregon

Colton

 

Was that English mystery for ‘tea’ down the wrong side a side street

 

      In the end, Faun did wind up in Grant’s….

 it’s best not to get ahead of things, certainly, but, with the amount of chaos two teenaged girls can create and having to unknot the damage —an overcharge that was fixed with a refund for six thousand dollars; a complaint from someone in Berlin Germany for a phone call about a book they didn’t order that woke them in the middle of the night (Jennifer was still not getting the dialing sequence must be cleared by hanging up the receiver, not by pushing the red light) —and a few confusing issues they seemed to be having with ….money—as in the physical kind. So, their total disregard for safe keeping the cash went right over their heads. Several times Faun had found the cash register drawer left open so….

By the time the mothers —Paula and Pamela of Jessica and Jennifer (respectively) came to collect the girls (Jessica at 6:03, Jennifer at 6:07) 

when Grant found Faun in the cash office counting down the drawer—and having problems making it balance with the estimated cash deposite ….

he found her looking disheveled with the frustration of the task in front of her; her glasses askew on her face and her hair standing up in places where it looked like she had pulled at it in a kind of frustrated fit, juxtaposing the teal colored tweed skirt and matching suit jacket otherwise smart ensemble, contrasted by a cream colored satin blouse that had a long ribboned tie and pearl buttons. 

Her little ballet pumps with the big buttons, he noticed, were kicked off by feet, outlined in opaque black tights 

“You look like you could use a drink,” Grant said as he, after the fact, tapped lightly in the door as if meant as a knock 

Faun looked up,

“Oh do you have one?” as she looked hopefully for this possibility 

Grant laughed,

“I know where Arthur hid his sherry but I was thinking more along the lines of going somewhere—would you eat fish? There’s a place I read about….”

Faun stared at him for a moment. She was still adding and subtracting in her mind. 

And wasn’t there something she was supposed to …. make him suffer for …. a little longer?

“Ummm—but—oh! My wall!” as it hit her just then what it was she had meant to be asking about 

Grant went over to the desk where she was, took all the cash and put it in an envelope—

“No wait—that’s not the deposit—that has the base fund; I can’t make it balance—“ she was saying as he was still removing the cash from her fingers

“You need to get out of here, I think,” he said this as he placed the cash and the till into the antique safe and quickly shut it.

He turned and looked for her coat, recognizing the dark green adirondak coat,

“Let’s go,” he said slipping a hand under each of her arm pits, and while holding her coat, pulled her up from the chair, “the deposit can wait—I’ll clear it with the boss, so, don’t worry.”

The sea food place Grant had read about seemed to be very good; it had a waiting cue. But Grant insisted they wait and order drinks. Faun would be willing to swear it was a margarita. At least the first one was. And she would be willing to swear the seafood was probably amazing.

What were they talking about?

The Bishops….the shop….his childhood, where he grew up….he made her laugh at things he talked about….

It was just a bit hazy. Except for his eyes—as she could not look at anything else as they sat at the table….and what he said….everything he said….and for the first time in forever, she forgot to be self conscious and relaxed next to him

There was that moment after the paying of the check when Grant was helping her on with her coat

“Oh no….” Grant suddenly had said as they headed out towards the door to go and now —watching how often Faun paused to study the textures of the wallpaper 

“Hmmm….?” she was, at that point running her fingers over the velvety texture as she walked and humming to herself 

“You can’t drive,” he said 

His meaning wasn’t clear until they were outside.

“It’s so hazy out,” but she was squinting and then dropped the car keys in the little snow drift by the car door. “Shit.” And fell down on top of the drift. 

It was when she decided she felt comfortable there that when Grant leaned over her and said,

“give me the keys,” the other thing he said finally made sense 

After that 

It was awhile in the car. How long was she staring at the glove compartment? And still in the restaurant’s parking lot.

Finally she thought to look at Grant. He seemed to be having a personal conversation with himself. The tequila was making it harder for her to grasp most of it—or was it the translation? 

“Key…”he said under his breath and looked from the key to the areas of the antiquated steering wheel and dashboard. He tapped the spot when he located it with the key—but was not in a hurry to insert it. He let out a breath. “Right side….” he said aloud. Then looked at the key again. Another deep breath. “Two lanes —yellow lines….how do you turn right?”

“It’s two left turns,” Faun suddenly said

“Sorry?”

“Going back,” she clarified, “I mean from here.”

“Oh….that’s even better….”

But Faun did not remember the journey back.   

There was a moment she heard that terrifying sound of car horns being blown as they drove by some cars and someone yelled something that sounded like,

“pick a fucking lane—your other left asshole!!”

but it made sense with her dream somehow—so,

 it wasn’t until she was dumped actually into his bed       —quite similar as she had been the last time, as a matter of fact 

Side street bookshop girls first day scene cont

Sheila reappeared, emerging from the the stacks from her favorite genre,

“Well you told him,” she said watching Faun's face

“Huh?—who?” Faun asked her

Sheila rolled her eyes,

“mister artful dodger, isn’t he the nephew?”

Faun felt her face burn and stared mutely back at her

Finally Sheila said,

“Oh, don’t play dumb—I’ve been watching you guys for weeks but, don’t let me interrupt your orientation with our new employees—this should be interesting. Well, if you need me, you know where to find me.”

Deciding not to give much pause over that, Faun marched in the direction of the cafe 

~a bit later on~

Seeing as they had conquered the espresso machine, Faun decided after a store tour— that it was the right time for a few basics.

She waved Jessica and Jennifer to follow her behind the cash register area

“So,” Faun looked at both of them, “pop quiz—can either of you tell me what this is?”

The two girls, dressed similarly to each other wearing the latest trend in jeans with retro 90’s band name sweatshirts 

“Uhhh….” Jennifer stared 

Faun was pointing to the store phone 

“Oh! I know—my grandmother has one of those! It’s an adding machine—right?—no wait—I mean a calculator! See these are the numbers you press….” Jessica stopped  herself now wondering why there was no screen

“Actually, that is the store’s phone which you will be answering and so let me demonstrate,” Faun took her mobile phone out from where she had placed it in the cash area desk drawer, “I’ll call the store and one of you answer— ok?”

The two girls looked at each other as though they were terrified 

“What do you press?” Jennifer asked as it started to ring 

and it was about then when Faun realized that it would be awhile before they got to books.

Especially when, soon after this part of the training session someone came in with a donation of a complete set of the encyclopedia Britannia; copyright 1928 in mint condition

Jessica said,

“I’ve seen these before at the library—they’re like a Wikipedia but it’s on paper.”

So for a moment Jennifer just stared at the volumes where they had been placed neatly on the counter where the donator had dropped them off

“But—how does it update?” Jennifer finally asked 

This was about when Grant reappeared looking that way he looked when he woke up with that sleepy face. A much needed interruption from the time warp generation gap. The way he looked now made her remember their night together and caused her body to react from the memory 

“how are things going?”

“Well….” she shrugged “well….”

“So—was that a yes before about sharing my bed?” he asked, leaning to say this into her ear, “to be neighborly and all —I promise, like before—a perfect gentleman,” he said 

But it was because the shop’s phone rang, and with a look from Faun to the girls, it was Jennifer who picked up the receiver,

“Uhhh…hello….?”

Faun cleared her thrust, glanced up at Grant,

“I’ll get back to you—excuse me,” as she reached for the phone receiver from Jennifer’s hand, and said into the mouthpiece, “Side Street Book Shop.”

if walls could talk or text down a Side street

 

Faun didn’t have the chance to properly reply to Grant because Jessica and Jennifer arrived, bursting through the bookshop’s glass-windowed doors with excited enthusiasm. 

“Uhh….”was all Faun could say, glancing up at Grant and ….it was at that moment that froze for awhile between them then ….when ….he noticed that glimmer of helpless terror fleetingly cross her face—what was that? he wondered….because it was quickly gone with a quick, perhaps —forced— laugh as she said under her breath, instead to Grant, as if to make light of the moment, “remind me not to give them sugar and maybe we should skip the coffee today!”

“Too late,” Grant then said as he nodded towards where they made for, like a bee-line as—already they had the espresso machine going 

“Shit!” she whispered and without another pause ran over, “wait! let me teach you first how it works!” 

But clearly, they had watched her plenty of times by now that —Faun noticed they knew what to do so, then just shrugged and let them. 

“Quick studies,” Grant said as he had by now caught up with her and placed one hand on her arm, “well, I’ll let you get to it, then—I’ve got work in Arthur’s office—I’ll meet you after….”he started to turn as if to go just then but paused, “I’d meant to call but—it was rude of me not to, I’m sorry and there’s no excuse except that between the building renovation to repair your wall —and the funerals and the law….”

“Wait, did you say—repair my wall?” Faun asked, even as she slowly rewound his other words and weighed it in her mind whether or not to forgive him so easily or make him suffer but—the Bishops’ faces loomed in her mind, guilting her thoughts 

“Oh—yeah—right—you don’t know ….”he winced just then and scratched his sable-brown, bearded chin thoughtfully and looked around to see who was nearby. 

There were a few shoppers in the next section looking at the shop’s packaged signature coffee and gossiping about the shop owners’ mysterious deaths. 

Their voices carried over as one said, “I heard it was carbon monoxide!”

Grant absently touched her elbow through the grey cashmere turtle neck she wore, as he thought over what to say,

“erm—whilst it was not just the alarms that had to be installed —as it turned out ….well—it is almost complete and it’s a good thing that it was taken care of straight away —“

Most of what he said she could not understand because he was speaking rather fast —as he was trying to decide on how to tell her….

“What are you talking about?”Faun asked him finding herself lost 

“I’ll tell you later—“ he started to leave and walk away but she grabbed hold of his coat sleeve, and the sheer force of her action caused her to swing into him, as he caught her from colliding into him headfirst

“No—wait—so, does that mean I still have to stay at the inn?”she asked looking up at him and trying not to let herself be ….drawn in by his lush, spring meadow eyes and ….so she forced herself to just —hold her breath —as he caught her from colliding into him headfirst

with hardly a beat, he said,

“I’m told it’s to be completed by tomorrow but—there is more than enough room in my bed, perhaps I should have said so before….” and for half a second it looked as if he was about to kiss her. So close was his face to hers. 

Until the sound of breaking ceramic from the cafe area broke the mood  

“I think you may have your hands full here,” Grant winked at Faun and did a slight wave, “I’ll see you later.”

“But —what happened to my ….wall?” she asked more to herself as he was by now, too far from her to hear 

looking for a Side Street Sign

 

faun had been staying at the local inn; the cops put her up there while they investigated her bedroom and then ….they’d spoken to Grant about installing an alarm system 

Grant. 

Well, who else could the cops think to ask as he was the nearest thing to a relative or a legal responsible party. 

Anyway, that had been their last conversation and it was in front of the cops. And. Hardly romantic. 

There was a lot to do, anyway. So, every time she felt that heavy sense of loss, something came up. 

The inn helped; another impersonal place to be; a great escape from the self. That is the best part of leaving any place, the best part of finding somewhere else to go that has zero memories attached to it. 

At the shop there were so many customers. Or they were mostly curious about what happened to the Bishops. It even caused the local tv station news show to turn up and do an impromptu interview with Faun on the spot. But she had done that before anyway, for previous jobs, so, it was like automatic pilot for her on what to say….at least about politics and books….suspicious deaths of the well known local shop owners? Who were the suspects? Good thing she went with the somber black turtle neck and the serious long grey skirt with high boots that day.

Of course Pierre Reaux made another appearance. Officer Sullivan called him when they were dusting her bedroom.

****

And now standing in the middle of the bookshop’s first floor behind the cash register area, gazing out towards the windows that were the views of the street side. The shop, you see, was off a side street of the Main Street of town. So, often there were people passing by; kids going to or leaving from school; some people walking dogs, or there would be the postal delivery person; passing cars or trucks would go by intermittently 

It had been several days at the inn. And the impersonal sense forced her to go about her days like a robot. When she got to the shop, each day had been a day of catch up—and with the excitement of the town being so present every day there, she was so busy occupied talking to curious people that the moments in between she had to straighten the books; put things away; clean the shop and balance the daily funds (the owners deaths were very profitable for their shop) before running to drop the deposit in the evening…. 

So by the time it was time to drive herself towards the inn ….and wonder when she last ate….and what there was to find to eat anywhere ….each night became an exhausted affair of sunflower seed butter and apples, as she soaked in the bathtub listening to Buddhist meditational music from her phone, before crawling into one of the two giant beds the impersonal but beautiful room the inn was furnished with. And the slick warm colored walls (ochre with a few abstract paintings) echoed. 

The girls (Jessica snd Jennifer) would be on their way soon, Faun noted the time on her watch, aware of how the sun light was dimming on the street. The girls’ mothers had signed the consent forms and both came in at separate times to drop off the slips, as the two mothers seemed to not like the other but the two were both almost indistinguishable from the other. 

Already exhausted as it was Friday, now of a long month of this— so, Faun was looking forward to the idea of having the girls to take the pressure off her feet—and do some catch up with her own life…. at least for a day and a half ….finally one day to do laundry; something to look forward to ….

So, as she stood there, she thought about this ….and decided she needed another day off.

It took less than five minutes to get the sign set up once she found something to write it on. She wrote “New Shop Hours: Monday-Saturday 10-6, closed Sunday”

But she only had it up about less than five seconds when someone came walking in and tore it off the door where she had stuck it

“Now, that’s not happening!” the culprit exclaimed 

“Sheila!” Faun gasped 

“I’m sorry, Faun, but you cannot be closed on Sunday—any other day, but not Sunday!”

Sheila was a regular. A six foot two lovely and striking trans woman who had an astrological clientele that often met her at the shop. By now, Faun had noticed that Sheila was practically a fixture at the shop; the back table was where Sheila conducted her business, and obviously considered/assumed Sheila’s domain as she was so often planted there among piles of astrology books and papers —and usually left neatly behind awaiting her pending return.

But Faun was at this point just too worn out to take her on and could only limply shrug,

“I have the girls starting tonight, and tomorrow—but it’s just me every other day here —I just need another day off, Sheila!” she tried to appeal reasonably

“Sunday is the only day when Gary leaves me the car—well, besides Saturday but Saturday is mostly shopping—but Sunday is my only day! You can’t do this to me, Faun!”

That was when ….she looked up and saw Grant walking across the street. Looking smart in his winter coat ….

“What?” she whispered looking up at Sheila

“You can’t close on Sunday’s!”

Faun moved to turn away from the door so as not to seem to notice ….as she did notice ….that he was walking to the shop’s door 

Why now? Where had he been all week? Why had he not said hello since the last message she left him days ago….

“I just need that day to be able to come here and not have to worry about meeting Gary when he comes to pick me up here—I mean….”

Sheila glanced at the man who walked in and then back at Faun,

“so—here’s an idea, why don’t I work your Sundays from now on?”

That was the moment Grant stood in front of Faun with the cash register counter between them with Shiela leaning on the counter casually watching the both of them 

Grant—with the decency to look sheepish— looked from Sheila to Faun and then smiled,

“I think that’s an excellent idea —then I could ask you to see a film with me Sunday—erm— unless Saturday works better.”

hit and run down a side st

 

She found that his silences made her sad

she had not heard from him since the other day —the day after ….and a lot of things had happened that day —but….

and she berated herself for feeling this way….how his silences made her sad….this was just something she never encountered before that sense of loss of —being locked out; ostracized and why should she care? who was he to her anyway? and it served her right that she learned the same lesson again for ….falling for all the things he claimed to promise ….she was exhausted of being a dumb pawn object to some guy who really didn’t care about her

it felt like a rock in her stomach ….the sad feeling of betrayal ….why didn’t he call?—send a message? after everything, she deserved some acknowledgment ….but as the busy days at the shop followed, 

   And the new strange evidence that they had missed due to witches brew 

What strange evidence, indeed. As it had happened Faun had said that next morning, rushing to get ready for the shop, leaving his bed,

“how embarrassing! I’m sure you and our cop friend had a good laugh over how my bedroom looked? All my underwear everywhere—I was in such a hurry!—I overslept, you see—so that’s why my clothes are all over the floor like that! I usually make my bed too.”

Grant had looked at her blankly for a moment. 

As she noticed that his morning sleepy face was so appealing; his bed head hair a sexy mess that it made her want to ignore facing the day outside and just stay here in bed with him. 

“What?” she had missed what he said—was it the accent or her thoughts?

“I said, don’t be silly— that your room looks very tidy—the bed was made, as it happens, it looked like a hotel, to be honest—that’s what Officer Sullivan said anyway.”

“What?” she just had her arms back through the burgundy dress to go back downstairs and then back up to her own room next door to get ready for a day at the shop 

Grant looked blankly back at her,

“which part?”

“I didn’t make my bed,” she said this like someone trying to reassure the other person that they were not insane 

“What?—you….but no—we saw—it was—because it even had the hotel edges—that’s why he commented, we were impressed at your bed making skills.”

“Shut up!” she blurted this out. It was just insane what he was saying. Clearly he was teasing, ‘having her on’ as he’d say ….she looked at him sideways, “are you teasing me?”

“About….?”

With arms still half pulled through the dress, she systematically collected her strewn belongings as she walked to and through his bedroom door, down the stairs, through the kitchen doorway(still left ajar) and then up her stairs to her bedroom.

She stood outside her bedroom door. She stared into the room. After a few moments she walked to her antique and battered up Victorian dresser with the layers of paint peeling away; now pink; now blue; now gold; now white….and in three neat stacks done with professionally laundry style attention to care, were all the clothes she had left in rejected piles on the floor!

She remembered this vividly ….and she didn’t know how to fold that way …..

Someone had been there

If that didn’t give it away, who was there decided to leave a calling card —across the pillow lay one of her camisoles; this one black lace with tiny satin ribbons 

a private investigation exploration Undercover on the side st

Suffice it to say—something did happen between them. 

King Leopold soon craved his bone and left them, eventually settled by the door of Grant’s bedroom and fell asleep there. 

And maybe it was the warmth of the room or the sudden absence of warmth from the departure of the regal canine’s chaperoning body —she moved toward Grant in sleep, seeking his warm body, and then, so close against him there, her back spooning up against him, she fall back asleep. In her sleep she was dreaming about being tangled in a giant spider web and turned instinctively into the curve of his arms as she slept. And because it felt so good, eventually she turned to face him while she was sleeping ….it seemed in a hazy, round about place in her mind about then that she might be over dressed in her burgundy dress, as it caught her up in it tangling her legs and trapped her so when he said,

“here, let me help you,” against her ear

in her sleepy mind, it was perfect timing to be rescued ….and after the zip down, he pulled it all over her head in one vast move, released her, “here, and this,” he said releasing the hooks behind her

In her sleepy mind, it slowly dawned upon her, 

            this part wasn’t the dream….

moving into the warmth of him —and it was some time after dawn when this private investigation, exploration was momentarily satisfied 

dog eared comic sutra

 

He had promised to be a gentleman. 

And for a moment he did think about having said this even as he was confident of his ability to withstand any great and off-limits temptations ….but this was not really the issue at the moment as ….as Halloween drew to a close with the departure of Aunt Fiona and Arthur ….here he found himself a stranger in a strange land and having to figure out what should happen next with all the legal details ….that Faun was there —it seemed something the Bishops might have done —getting themselves killed even if it got them together ….Aunt Fiona secretly loved her romance novels —he’d recently found her secret horde of Barbara Cartlands and there had been one she had beside her on the bedside table when he —found her

This was hardly a bad incidental outcome and he thought about how Faun looked earlier that day as he was watching her at the shop. 

So….no. The idea of being alone on a creepy night —with ….someone ….who just happened to be the person who had caught his eye ….days before they had met, actually—was not a bad unexpected development. He had seen her from Arthur’s window as she was leaving after an afternoon tea with Fiona. He had been with Arthur in his office, going over ledgers and ….computer files ….but who was she —?had been on his mind just days before they met. And they had told him about her when he finally got to ask—which was only the day before ….the carbon monoxide poisoning 

The gruesome memory of finding his aunt —now made it clear why …. why should this attraction be so strong now with events going on now?—the connection he felt with her; their odd timing —how they always did things at the exact same times —or spoke, sometimes it was like they’d identify too close to the other’s move ending up walking into the other, like senses hyper aware of the other’s….every move

But she lay at present, like dead weight. Staring up into space. As though utterly spaced out. As if the mattress had sucked her into it. Her limbs felt they weighed a ton. The ceiling …..

“The constellations ….” she said looking up at the slanted ceiling and above where she now recognized the plastic pieces that were green, phosphorescent and star-shaped were all grouped like the Milky Way which had to be another Grant trademark thing that —made her at war with her now tangled burgundy dress because this new exposed detail about him made her body crave him more than ever, and so she pressed herself to him as she moved over him to press herself to him there

He said,

“yes.” 

But to what was he answering?

And moving her into a better angle whilst solving the dress malfunction, he bit her neck and said into her ear,

“I keep my word ….just to cuddle—as a gentleman….” even as his hand pressed the backside of her burgundy dress, and flattened his hand as he moved it lower, suggesting otherwise, “or king Leopold will have me sent to the dungeons….”

And that is why another, with perfect timing, by the namesake, made his presence known 

with a round of invading barks and an unceremonious and very clumsy, earth-quaking jump onto the bed 

what’s to come with that brew? on the side st

 

And so, it was due to the Witch’s Brew that had the effect of putting a soft fringe around the reality of life as seen through the burgundy color; alizarin crimson 

as he ascended the stairs, she had almost forgot all the wild events of the last few days. It was something about his scent and the textures of him; how she couldn’t help herself from putting her hands on him; in his hair and fingers running down his face, the sharpness against her fingertips as she felt along his jaw, she was drawn to touch him everywhere at once, like an innate subtle craving

She stopped thinking —when ever ….he was near her. And as soon as she could sense his thoughts when he looked at her that way he had. He had such a look about him, and that was usually enough to make her mind go to putty….the day?—a murder?—or two?—some intruder?….but he could make it all disappear 

And when they reached upstairs to his room —it smelled like him, not in a bad way, but besides his scent, it felt clear his presence lived there; was it something in the slant of the roof above the wood framed bed that had no headboard? Or….. the wall against it which was exposed red brick and where there was a kind of Mexican blanket nailed above where a headboard would be —and this had brown and red designs, like the brick behind it. 

The colors were all dark shades in there. The other wall was painted a lush, dark rich brown that went with the colors of the rag rugs on the floor, as well as the antique quilts on the bed; no doubt from one of Arthur’s finds.

It was like stepping into another dimension—beyond the trappings, those other things laying about that were clearly Grant trademark of him —she had come to pick up on him, about him. 

It was too dark to see whatever he moved around to quickly remove from sight but she was looking, instead at the colorful boxers (Pokémon) that had not made it into the thing posing as a laundry basket, but it was the strewn video games and the array of junk food evidence which were left in odd places, even as it was otherwise, fairly neat —but it was this which strangely burned into her senses. In fact, she found herself drawn to the spot upon the bed he clearly favored as the outline impression of his head was still in the pillow there, so when he dropped her there, her face fell into it and witch’sbrew, be damed, she inhaled it. 

It was something inexplicable but there about him—and it was this very thing that she became aware of now, freed of all reserve and previous reservations. What were they about agsin? She couldn’t remember, and slinking and coiling into his scent filled sheets, she undulated, unaware as she did —as the brew hit that ….other level 

side st side step mysteries & evasion

“Tell me about yourself,” he said, not wanting to think anymore about the recent events, pulling the long sweeping fringe from her dark eyes and holding her face looking up at him, liking how she looked caught within his grasp.

They were still on the kitchen chair, her legs around him, having finished their meal together 

“There really isn’t that much to tell,” she glanced away from the distraction of his eyes and wondered how to answer him, “I just moved here to Portsburgh to start my life over—find a new direction,” and while the wine relaxed her enough to say this, her discomfort of the details of her life held resistance 

“Why did you choose Portsburgh?”

But still looking away from the distraction of his compelling eyes, she smiled slightly and shrugged, 

“it seemed as good a place as any. To start over.”

“Do you have family here?” he asked her

She didn’t answer right away. These were questions she had managed to avoid with people. Sometimes she answered with rehearsed replies she had carefully selected from past conversations. 

But all she said was,

“no.”

“Was it a job that fell through?” he tried to prompt her, becoming curious with her reluctance to elaborate 

And because of the wine, she couldn’t remember all those prepared answers she usually used. But, she also didn’t want to be fake to him. She stared at the way the candle over on the counter by the sink flickered and again, simply said,

“no.”

“So you just came here with —no idea what you would do?”

Only now did she look back at him. She now sought his eyes and it was because of her intoxicated mind…. that allowed something vulnerable to surface from just the sound of his lilting voice; the gentle tone it had…. it caused her mind to turn to putty. And his eyes mirrored that ability to cause her to react; and, forgetting herself, she let herself tumble inside them. 

Perhaps that was a mistake; they made her feel so safe…. inside them. And for a moment, she forgot his question. She just allowed herself this safety. A safety that ….she had not known for so long. Maybe never. And the feeling wrapped her in its warmth, so she could not find the desire to leave this feeling and she could only stare inside them. 

As his fingers started to caress her cheek, she felt his arms tighten slightly around her. Soon she realized she hadn’t answered his question, so vaguely she said,

“I read about it here—it sounded nice….so—I just packed up my car and started driving….”

Or something like that ….it was too involved for her to think about right now. 

“That’s extraordinary! You’re so brave! I’ve never done anything like that!” he said smiling as he forced her to look at him as she had pulled her eyes away from the vague compliment 

Her face colored brightly as she turned her gaze back at him,

“not really so brave,” she said dropping her eyes, “maybe cowardly. I was….”

But she suddenly stopped what she was about to say. She wasn’t sure if she should say what almost slipped right out 

“What?” he asked, sensing this and his touch along her cheek moved along the angled cheekbone that followed the slant of her eyes and his seemed to hold her captive there, like his arms that had subtly pulled her closer to him, his warmth weakening her resistance 

“I was running away.”

“From….?”

She stared up at him,

“someone.”

“A man?” he asked

“Yes,” she admitted with some relief being able to share this and sighed, “this seemed the last place he’d ever look for me.”

“Who is he?” he asked her, “an ex?”

“Yes,” she looked back at him, “what about you? What about your life and—“ she wanted to say ‘that person with that otherworldly ringtone’ but instead she said, “your job back home? Shouldn’t you be getting back to it? Why were you visiting the Bishops in the first place—was it a holiday?”

Grant sighed heavily and leaned back against the chair, but he didn’t release her from his arms. Instead he pulled her closer,

“Some of it has to do with work—but also for Arthur and Aunt Fiona—I come here several times a year—or rather—came….to help Arthur with the website and book keeping….” he sighed, “but this I’d rather not talk about, I’d rather hear about you.”

“I’d like to know about you—like, where are you from, for instance?—what about your….family?”

“It’s not that interesting,” he said evasively now and went on to say, “I’m from a dull industrial part of the country, it wouldn’t interest you—I’d really rather know more about you. It takes a tough person, I think, to decide to just leave and start all over without knowing a single person where you are going to. And no plan. I admire that.”

What he said surprised her. She had never thought of herself as tough. 

For whatever reason, she sensed, he didn’t like to talk about himself but then, nor did she. She decided to respect his space and let him pull her head against him, his fingers in her hair as she listened to his heartbeat. 

But the heat from her body released more of that scent of her and it went to his head, and without hesitation he ran his hands down the back of her, following the path of the long zipper that held her burgundy dress together. He followed it back up to the top and his fingers played with the zipper as he captured the back of her skull into his hand and kissed her suddenly on the mouth, turning her head up to him as he stood up, hoisting her slightly in his arms as he stood, holding her with her legs still wrapped around him.

“Would you like to go upstairs—I promise to behave—or back in the sitting room?” he asked her

It had been a long time since anyone held her this way, it reminded her of her childhood and waking from nightmares and the feeling of his arms around her forced all logical thoughts away,

“I haven’t seen your room where you stay—can you show it to me? I’m just a bit curious.”

It was the witches’ brew; side st mystery scene continued

 

It is hard to say just how long that kiss went on for. Faun was too absorbed elsewhere to notice time and was mostly focused on figuring out how to unknot his tie while being able to kiss him at the same time and what happened was, a reminder of the quiche which came by a slight burning smell 

“Oh no!” she jumped off off his lap, like with a reflex of spider-sense and was at the oven in half a second, only pausing for the oven gloves…. “saved—its perfect! It only started to burn a little, a bit toasty….” she talked a lot when she was nervous. And moved about a lot, being hyperactive by nature which gave her a sort of flightiness in her movements; pronounced because of him; because she wasn’t sure if ….they should —out of respect to the Bishops —yes, but also she didn’t want him to do something he might regret later—was it the grief ….? And was she wrong to let something happen between them if ….that were the case 

He watched her from the chair as she fluttered around the kitchen arranging things; cutting pieces and selecting dishes from the polished wood cabinets and on two antique Johnson brothers mismatched square chintz plates she put a piece of quiche and walked over to the table with them. She put one in front of Grant and one on her side; went back for forks and paper napkins and laid each beside either plate. 

“It’s too hot to eat yet—we should let it cool down,” she said 

He had been watching her do this, finding it amusing and when she finally sat down in front of him, he was pouring more wine into the glasses, suspecting the reasons for the subterfuges, and thought wine might take care of matters. 

He raised his glass and clinked it to hers,

“to King Leopold,” and he indicated with his head, she had to raise her glass too. So, she did, of course,

“To King Leopold,” and at mention of his name he awoke from his nap by the stairs and got up with a “whuff”, sniffing the air as he came walking over. This made them laugh and then Grant said,

“bottoms up— you are required to drink all of that, it’s a toasting rule,” he said 

“Is it?” she looked back at him and automatically lifted her glass and sipped it thoughtfully. You see, she was feeling the effects of the first one still. 

“All of it,” he said and reached across the table as she had been about to put it down, but he brought it back up to her lips

“It’s really good wine, what is it called?” she asked as she let him turn the glass up against her mouth 

“Witch’s Brew,” he said, “it’s spiced,” he said and it seemed he was closer suddenly. She didn’t notice he moved his chair over—well, not until the glass was empty and he was putting it down and pulled her head to him with both his hands and kissed her hard. He felt her go limp. But now his stomach growled. He broke the kiss,

“we should eat,” he said but he reached across for her fork and broke off a piece of the quiche with it, bringing it up to her mouth, wanting to watch her now swollen mouth as he fed her.

And as they ate together, he pulled her back into his chair, his arms around her as he said, “we can just cuddle, if you want.” 

“Yeah. Ok,” she said, even as he was kissing her 

“And I think—it’s safer with regards to the intruder —we don’t leave each other alone tonight—to be safe,” he said 

her move; Castled & Granted a toast off the sidewalk inside

 

There was a moment when Faun caught a glimpse of Grant as they were sitting facing each other slightly at the small square wood kitchen table after he had poured the wine. The lights had felt too bright, so, Faun took out some wide pillar candles and set one at the table and one on the counter by the sink and one above the stove on the little ledge by the spice cabinet.

It was the way the lighting —or lack there of— seemed to allow some layers to drop. As it seemed.

He must be thinking of Fiona, Faun could sense it, and it did not require a seance to sense his mood, despite ….as Halloween loomed everywhere, somehow the feel of the Bishop’s ghosts loomed a little too near. 

She had wanted to ask him about if he needed help with ….the funeral—or what was even happening about it but, how to ask and at the appropriate moment?

“Do you need help with —their arrangements?” Faun blurted out because his face looked suddenly vulnerable. Which was very becoming on him, somehow; it was something about those poet’s eyes of his and the pout of his mouth when he got to brooding. As she had seen him do. He’d tug at his beard and bite his lip as deep creases dug between his thick, pensive brows—as he did now; something Byronic; that indescribable thing about him that made her melt whenever he looked at her —or sat in front of her….like now ….

He looked back at her now as she reached for his hand and those meadows drew her in 

Slowly, he smiled but she noticed that his eyes were suddenly a bit bloodshot. His fingers tightened slightly as he looked at her. He said softly,

“thank you—I’ll let you know ….” then sighed but after a pensive pause he reached for a wine glass, clinked it to hers and said, “you know, they would want us to toast them,” he forced a smile, “but—yeah….I am glad you are here.”

It was the openness there in his eyes at that moment that she could not help but be caught under. He was saying more with his eyes as he looked right at her. It was this moment when Faun understood what it was about him; that quiet poet within that never spoke what he felt and most believed it was not there but she saw it all in his eyes. And in the tones he spoke in. Even his pauses spoke volumes. And she had no idea why she could see all this —she could not know. Unless it was something possibly familiar had she been more self aware. And she was attracted to this about him. It was even more intense for her than just his natural air of masculinity that he exuded in the most unconscious and minuscule of ways. 

It was that, ultimately that …. and it was just after their toast to the Bishops—and it could be the wine went to her head and made her do it —and it might have been, too, the loosened tie he wore and flannel jacket, the scruffy beard or that pout? It had to be his eyes that made her stand up and go over to him. She slid, facing him and climbed into his lap, putting her arms around his neck, her burgundy dress falling in long folds across her hips as her legs went around him on the chair, kissing him full on the mouth, her hands and fingers in his hair 

Our friendly sidewalk street policeman

When they got in, he said in a very low voice,

“you stay down here —while I look upstairs ….just to be safe….I’ll check your—the bedroom and—“ then Leopold barked at him and ran up to follow excitedly sniffing around as they went up the stairs ….

Faun sighed as she wondered about the state of her room….

Oh no….she realized what a hurry she’d left in this morning —she’d missed the alarm getting up because she couldn’t sleep last night and when she finally did the sun was coming up and she missed the alarm —so the floor was a nightmare of this morning’s rejects of clothes and of course underwear ….God! How embarrassing —did she make the bed….? 

She paced the kitchen and looked around for signs of anyone ….ohhh….

“Uh—Grant!” she suddenly shouted, “come here!”

And together, beast and human came running down the stairs, 

Faun stood by the door where it joined the other kitchen—the doorway that lead out towards the ‘community area’ with the salmon couches. 

She pointed to the floor—which was red brick—and what she pointed to —there was a clear outline of a muddied shoe—coming from that direction —it was a very big bootprint—and if the intruder hadn’t risked putting on the light, he’d not have known what he left of himself behind. 

“That’s not my foot,” Grant said, matter-of-factly, “someone’s been here, I think.”

“Should we call Pierre Reaux?”

****

In the end, they settled on just calling Officer Sullivan and as he’d given them his official police ‘business’ card with the direct extension printed clearly on it, this seemed the better choice.

This time Officer Sullivan wasn’t as suspicious nor was he as unfriendly as before. If anything, he seemed glad of the interruption on his slow night, and had even chuckled saying so.

He came right over and looked around, letting King Leopold sniff him before following Grant upstairs ….and then through the kitchen doorway —pointing out the footprint before getting a guided tour with Grant, dog en-toe.

But, in the end, after some casual chatter with Grant about England he shrugged, filling out the report with Grant, whilst sealing up the lighter in a plastic baggie,

“I’ll run some prints, maybe, who knows? I’m glad the dog turned up—I wonder where he had gone ….well, let me know if anything else strange or unusual happens,” and then he left 

“Well….” Grant shut the kitchen door that lead out to the porch and leaned on it thoughtfully. 

“It is unsettling that someone has been here—“ Faun shuddered looking up at him 

“Come here,” he said, even as she was only a few inches from him; he tugged just hard enough on her raincoat to make her fall against him, “maybe you shouldn’t be alone tonight—if you are scared,” he said this against her ear as he took hold of her head in his hands and added, “I promise to be a perfect gentleman,” and held back a laugh.

And her stomach growled again, 

“I just realized I made a spinach quiche earlier—do you like tomato and basil? I think it came out tasting more like pizza,” she laughed as she went to the refrigerator, getting it out, 

“that sounds great,” he said 

She went to the oven and turning the dial and he followed her, pulling her against him when she had stood up from the oven. And then saying, “where were we?” running his hands up the back of her neck through her hair 

But then—

“Wait right here,” he said suddenly and removed his hands from the thickness of her hair, regrettably dropping the weight before sliding his hands down her face, down her shoulders and arms to her waist then rested on her hips then went through the doorway through the other kitchen. 

Soon he came back as she was shutting the oven door. He had two plain glasses and a bottle of wine,

“I was saving this for something but now seems the right time.”

a lighter note Mystery walk home

 

And as they walked, the drunken feeling had remained upon Faun, still, from his kiss.

Some awareness did seep in when she thought she spotted something on the driveway as they walked up towards the gate 

“Hey, what’s that?” Faun pointed to the ground; it was about midway up the drive

So, they went that way towards Faun’s Volvo to see what it was on the ground

Faun bent down and picked it up 

“A cigarette lighter?” she looked from the cheap, ordinary, bright orange disposable lighter then up at Grant, “is this yours?”

“No—that’s not mine,” he said and they looked at each other wondering who could have dropped this, and what were they doing on the property?

“That wasn’t there before,” Faun looked at Grant then at the ground and, consciously lowered her voice, “when we walked by before with King Leopold ….”

“No….” Grant agreed.

They stood there thinking about this. Yet, King Leopold looked unconcerned. Odd. He was a very good watchdog. He always picked up on danger and knew the right people. Right now he was quite calm and almost docile. 

Grant sighed over all the tedious concerns that came with this,

“let’s go in your way—I want to make sure someone didn’t try and get in that way,” and—again he took her hand; so reassuringly warm and so natural too as if they had always done this, his fingers wove between hers on the way to the door….how can such an innocent touch ….as that….become more….she wondered…. But the reaction it caused—was it from the fear? the adrenaline? The way how he slid his fingers in between hers, the way it was as if he was touching her somewhere else 

but he reached for her hand 

A short dogwalk back down the sidewalk street, granted by the fawning sky

 

During their ‘exchange’, Grant had dropped the leash, he realized, but King Leopold had been laying on the pavement at their feet; the red leather handle in his mouth as he watched the occasional car drive by. It was clear out now, after the rains and it was possible to see the stars in the sky. 

“Oh look,” Grant pointed up as he casually bent down to take the red dog-leash handle from King Leopoldo’s mouth (Faun hadn’t noticed), “that is the Dog Star—Sirius—you see it there?”

She looked up,

“oh it’s bright,” she said seeing this clearly 

And as King Leopold stood up, the three of them headed back in the direction of the grey-lilac Victorian house, with the now drenched overgrown garden 

side street dogwalk with some wolfish intent

 

Faun took the umbrella for the walk, even though the rain had stopped and Grant had purchased a dog leash which clipped on neatly to his collar. 

They walked without any hurry as King Leopold lead the way, leisurely stopping to sniff the ground at times as they walked down the block, passing the quaint, little houses nearby with their unique individualistic twists to the original architecture of the homes that sat closely to their neighbors. 

And as they walked, Fawn tried to keep her mind off of what had just happened between them on the couch—as she wasn’t sure if it had all been her own action that brought it about and fearing it was, she felt embarrassed about her actions. What had come over her to behave in such a way?

But she reined her thoughts from continuing in this direction and made an effort to walk respectfully outside what she thought of as his personal boundaries. She had, for a few moments, berated herself too with thoughts of— how could she take advantage of the poor man when he had just had such a shock and ….then there was that otherworldly ringtone she kept reminding herself about that kept haunting her since the last times it happened. These thoughts caused her to pull her rain jacket around her tightly, and turn up the collar demurely, along with her guilty thoughts of the feeling of that kiss; how it had felt in the heat of the moment ….well, it burned in her memory and swept over her body with its liquifying, residual impression.

She reprimanded herself because she knew she should instead be thinking about all the things that happened when the police and detective had arrived.

But she really didn’t want to think about this either. She didn’t want anything to disturb or rather ruin ….that something ….she had felt which had passed between them with—that kiss. The quick flash of this thought burnt her skin everywhere despite all good intentions…. and, absently, she stole a quick glance at Grant as she thought this…. she wasn’t sure, but when she turned to look at him under the fall of her hair, she thought she had caught him looking at her…. but then he was being pulled away by King Leopold as he had found some favorable spot.

Faun turned away under pretense of respect, which allowed herself a fleeting moment. She touched her full mouth. She could still feel him there. And she wondered how she would ever be able to erase its effect upon her. His. In her own memory, she could not ever remember any other ….who had such an effect. And it was not the first time she had felt it with him. It had happened other times, if she allowed herself to ….recall….but she avoided this thought. It would have brought her to the first time when she had looked into his green eyes which subconsciously had the ability to make her feel she walked in a field of lush grass each time she looked into them; one like rich green-ochre and the other that had shards like the Gulf Stream and could somehow pull her under its bog

She forced herself not to let herself further go there, and made herself focus instead on the adorable little houses that she loved to look at on her local walks of the neighborhood. Tonight all their Halloween lights glowed in the evening, and she marveled at the imaginative residents who were so creative in the displays they achieved. And as they walked, it seemed a wonderland of something magical, as if all of it had been put there just for them. The orange and the Halloween purples, the flying witches on broomsticks, the Nightmare characters, the bats, and Great Pumpkins…. but—then she’d caught the scent of him; it was something in the scent of his hair from what he used; somehow it lingered on her. She realized it was on her fingers—she….had touched his hair….during their kiss. She recalled this now. As she had landed upon him and fell into his mouth, her hands had reached to feel what it felt like—first to his neatly clipped facial hair, that same rich brown as his hair, and then had gone to his hair, lavishing in his textures, so thick and coarsely ….masculine, like his scent which….still lingered on her fingertips.

But like a song you don’t want to keep playing in your head when one gets stuck there, was that ringtone. Who was it that kept calling him? 

She physically shook her head now to force away how this made her feel….and she reminded herself….’it is not any of my business, what right do I have to presume to be jealous?’ 

“Are you ok?” Grant suddenly asked her having noticed this and he himself felt concerned of his own actions of offending her during that moment; had he taken advantage of the kindness she had showed him?

“Oh!—yeah!” she said—with maybe too much enthusiasm

In the street light he could see her delicate complexion flush again…. but then, she did not pull her eyes from his right away; she seemed to search his carefully as she moved slightly closer. Searching. For…. ? it was actually for a sign of ….what he might be thinking….and if she were honest with herself then she would have admitted it was for a sign of what his real reaction was of her forward move on him. But she couldn’t really tell. He seemed to be studying her with his own concerns that she could not interpret which masked any clue for what she was searching for.

She had no way to know that his own doubts of offending her were much the same.

Faun caught another warm scent from him—this was slightly different, a kind of pleasant, wood-like, spicy scent she could not place but caused a sensation to rush through her as she inhaled it; it made her feel a bit dizzy and she tried to not allow herself to reveal this but, she lost her balance by the effects. 

He caught her arm as she was about to trip over the uneven pavement of the sidewalk

Again, they both started to speak at the same time 

“Look, I’m sorry if—“ (him)

“Hey, about wh—“ (her)

They both stopped in their speech realizing they were about to refer to the kiss —and, truth be told; it had not just been a kiss. There had been something —much more intended that had most overtly ….transpired ….and covertly, her face burned at the memory of the clear evidence of his desire —and the effect it had left upon her at the time had clearly left her with its takeaway reaction. Along with the lingering aftermath that also lingered. And wickedly played with her mind. At this moment it made her uncomfortable; but not out of embarrassment. 

Had he picked up on this? 

She moved to turn away just then but something stopped her, because, yes, her own effusion of scent mixed with lily of the valley, or was it patchouli or bergamot—?he couldn’t be sure ….gave her away—and that was the signal that caused him to suddenly push her up against the tree they stood by under the street lamp, holding her there, his hands in her thick and wild rubicund mane of hair, gripping hold of her skull in his hands. And this time there was no mistake about concern or worry for the action so that she forgot to think and forgot where they were—forgot King Leopold on the leash and the street with the possibility of passing cars; so caught in the feel of his kiss and the feel of his hands in her hair; the feel of his body pressed to the length of hers, the fabric of the drape of her burgundy dress strained and pulled slightly across her hips and lower between. And maybe she should have been thinking. Had she remembered how. But she wasn’t. It just felt too good to …. just give up ….to it. And lose herself.

She was not aware, then, that she had run her hands and flattened them to him; up and across his shoulders, while wantonly pressing into him and within the flannel business jacket he still wore, her fingers moving to and running along his scruffy jaw, stealing touches of him and his textures, desperate to know what they felt like and then burnt by the knowing of what she found. 

But then it was the loud sound of her growling stomach that caused Grant to break the kiss,

“I think you’re hungry,” he said, “I wonder if we can find any place open at this hour?”

It took a few beats to comprehend his words. His lilting accent spinning its poetry in her mind but once replayed a few times in her thoughts, she decoded his meaning, and flushed vividly under the streetlight,

“this town closes up like a drum by eight— do you like scrabbled eggs? I’ve got eggs at home”

Side st mystery; another dog eared page

 

King Leopold settled once having been around the familiar presence of Grant and Faun, of whom he had recently come to know from her visits at the house and when she’d come to look after him just the other night. And when they waited together in the yellow Volvo as Grant ran in to purchase King Leopoldo’s doggie bag and essentials, the giant puppy managed to get himself into the front seat of the car and try to sit on Faun’s diminutive (by comparison) lap, whimpering sadly and lapping her small featured face with his giant tongue, and soaking her in the process ….always a cat person, herself—for the main reasons of size, convenience and—well—smells, Faun resisted the first instinct to gag and shudder because—really, she was a push over when it came to animals of all sizes. So, well, what could she do?—she let him because Faun realized the poor little—big—dear….was now an orphan. Poor thing. Her heart went out to him. 

Even while, logistically, it was impossible for him to get onto her lap. Especially with the steering wheel there. So, instead, she let him rest his massive head on her lap—and half the front of his body. And while they sat in the parking lot of Walmart (the only still-open store around at this time) King Leopold lay like that with the occasional showers of affection. And in between playing ‘body guard’ (in the form of a barrage of terrifying, and terribly threatening loud bouts of barking) every time someone walked past the car.Which turned out to happen rather a lot. 

So she was relieved when she saw Grant walking towards the car,

“oh look! There he is! Look King Leopold!”

When Grant opened his side and realized there was someone sitting in his seat, he laughed,

“good thing I bought dog treats—and….what’s this, Leopold? You know what this is?” 

King Leopold barked excitedly at Grant

“Yes, it’s your favorite! Now, go retrieve it!” and Grant tossed a great big mastiff size bone into the back seat. 

It right shook the car making loud, arresting metallic sounds as he did so.

Grant slid into the seat and shut the door. And just as it started to rain again. 

Pulling up Faun’s driveway now she started to wonder about ….what was to happen now. Between the mysterious deaths of her landlords ….and what was to happen about the bookshop and ….her own apartment…. but how could she even think to bring such a topic like this up now? Of course she would never dream of bothering Grant with questions like this right now.

But as she stopped and parked Grant suddenly said,

“listen, don’t worry about your place—you signed a lease, nobody is going to throw you out, and it’ll be awhile before any of this makes sense but—I’ll make sure you’re safe and —I’ve already worked out your salary, if you approve, we can discuss it, but, if you give me your bank information, I can deposit it directly—we owe you the past few weeks and skip next month’s rent for your trouble.”

He didn’t wait for her reply and got right out, opening the back seat while saying,

“do you want dinner Leo? Daddy’s got dinner, come on boy!” 

Faun watched the giant beast chase after Grant as they ran down the drive in the rain 

It was a moment she sat there not knowing what to do. 

Was she to follow them inside that way?

Or should she just go home?

It had been such a long day. For both of them. So much had happened. 

And what he just said to her….kind of capped off the evening. So to speak. Englishmen can be so hard to read….and rather customary —she wasn’t sure if that was his goodnight. So she sat there for awhile watching the rain soak the windshield. 

Then her phone rang.

She didn’t recognize the number and yet it was the oddity of the numbers that made her answer,

“are you coming in?” it was Grant, “I think the king is expecting you—“ there was a loud bark in the background 

“I’ll be right there,” she said.

So there she went down the drive to the gate, past the now soaking wet overgrown garden and up the porch; he’d left the door open with just the screen door and she could see them inside as she walked up. 

Grant seemed to have the dog settled with a giant bowl of food,

“I’ll have to figure out what he eats, I’m sure that stuff is crap —I didn’t know what else to get,” he said as she walked into the kitchen; but his majesty didn’t seem to mind, Faun was thinking, as she watched the beast devour the contents in the bowl 

Faun noticed Grant had set a large bowl of water on the floor next to the food bowl 

“You mentioned tea,” Grant said, and removed a tin from the shopping bag as the tea kettle whistled on the stove. They both jumped, “this thing is ancient!” Grant said, shutting off the stove and finding the cups and saucers 

“Let me do that,” Faun said and reached for the tin, “Republic of tea—Mango Ceylon, that’s my favorite.”

“I never tried it, I took a guess,” he shrugged, “you said you don’t drink milk—thought you might like this—it’s coconut and almond, unless you like it without.”

“It depends—either way—I’ll try it,” she was momentarily dazed by the fact he remembered what she’d said. Or had heard her. Most men never bothered to hear things like that—in her experience. 

“I didn’t think of food—unfortunately….” and to demonstrate, he opened all the empty cupboards to show her. “Are you hungry? You must be—it’s late.”

“Don’t worry about me—unless you are? I have food—I can make something and bring it over,” and as she said this, she waved her hand at the door she had entered there through by the salmon couches 

He glanced at her hand and smiled,

“you wouldn’t have to go all the way down the driveway—“ and now he suppressed a chuckle as he walked towards the little dinning room. He kind of waved at her as he went that way and once in the dining room he faced her but pointed to his right where on her side there was only a wall, “there’s a stairwell through this door—which goes actually up to the room I told you I stay in when I’m here but this door —which is on other side of the laundry room—is the door that leads into—“

but now she understood,

“Oh! My apartment! That’s my kitchen door!” and she ran  into the dining room where he stood so that she could see. 

“Huh!” she said and reached into her clutch bag for her keys, “I wonder if one of these keys opens that lock, I was afraid to try it,” and when she did, it easily turned. The door itself took more effort—as it seemed not to have been opened in awhile. But then it swung open

Had she come home in her normal way—the porch from the driveway—with her apartment you entered directly into the kitchen from the porch. And, although s rather small kitchen, it was a fully updated kitchen with green granite counters, stainless steel appliances and polished wood kitchen cabinets. 

“How funny,” Faun said as she considered the days they must have been facing each other without realizing it, standing on either sides of the same wall. 

King Leopold came over to investigate now too.

It was a rather odd set up. Her apartment was on two floors. While the kitchen and sitting room was down stairs, you had to go up a narrow staircase to reach her bathroom and bedroom….which meant they shared the same bedroom wall as well.

“There’s a bathroom, in the kitchen—which is odd—see?” she said, “Arthur called it the ‘field hand’s washroom’ he said this house was on farm land years back when it was first built and after a day in the fields plowing, they’d come home all muddy and so would wash when they came in the door,” she opened the door to the small bathroom that looked like it still had the original plumbing—a very old toilet with the chain pulley and a narrow black tiled square unit with an old shower head with hot and cold turning levers, like the old sink with an antique mirror above it. 

“He never told me about that—that is interesting. Have you flushed it?” Grant asked her

“Yeah—a few times. I wasn’t sure of it at first, but Arthur said it—“ and now King Leopold barked upon hearing the name said again…. And for a moment Faun stopped talking to bend down to pet him and touch his face. Then continued talking to Grant while looking at King Leopold, “will likely outlast the other plumbing—I think he kept it because he ….liked antiques—like the old cash register at the shop….and the safe.”

“I know ….he did like his antiques—well—I think our tea has steeped by now.”

Faun followed Grant back through the door to the other kitchen and shut the door between closing it but leaving it open a crack 

And, yes, in fact, the teas were steeped and now Grant held up the coconut-almond mild, 

“shall I?” he stood beside the cup and saucer closest to Faun and twisted open the cap of the container

“Why don’t we have it in here?” Grant walked back into the salmon colored sitting room, “although, these sofas you will find not the most comfortable.”

“Well, my place only has room for a loveseat —and mine is more shabby than chic, to be honest—but then I don’t even have a tv—oh, you don’t say tv, do you? Oh, yeah, you guys call it—telly—“

He had been watching her without being obvious about it; among all the drama, she had been such a good sport, he was thinking and, had she not been there he —would not have admitted it to himself but, he would have been quite a reck right now …. But now as she said this he laughed suddenly and without thinking he put his index finger to her lips and stared down into her face. 

It hadn’t been a planned move. It surprised the both of them. 

But now suddenly he was looking down into her pretty upturned face, with those strangely slanted dark eyes he found himself now staring into. And her face, which —he noticed ….had become suddenly flushed by this action. And his proximity. 

What was she saying? 

He’d forgotten. 

What were they doing?

She’d forgotten.

They stared into each others eyes. 

The dog barked breaking their spell. 

Grant blinked and shook himself,

“actually, there is a tv in here,” and as he said ‘tv’ he winked at her and walked over to the wall that faced the porch by the kitchen where there was what looked like a cabinet. But when he opened it, the two doors receded into the wall

“Oh that’s a—dumb waiter!”

As Grant said,

“it’s a butler’s lift.”

But instead of trays of prepared meals meant to be lifted upstairs, there sat a large flatscreen television the perfect distance from the largest salmon couch

“I usually find something streaming because I’ve found navigating the channels here is a lot like navigating the English Chanel,” he meant that to tease her for what she’d said and as he spoke he tried to find something now. He wanted to find something for them to watch to take their minds off of the somber events of the day. “Oh, what do you think of this—I’ve been watching a recent Viking find; it’s a group of archeologists on a recent excavation in Iceland.”

“That sounds great,” she said and actually meant it too and as she moved towards the kitchen to get their teas and brought them over. 

They seemed to forget about food.

There was large old leather trunk that sat on the floor and seemed to serve as a coffee table and here is where Faun put their cups and saucers.

And, as there would have been no other place to sit that allowed for television viewing, as Grant moved towards it he looked at Faun and smiled letting her decide which side to sit. She picked a side and he sat on the side closest to the door and King Leopold jumped up and placed himself between them before resting his head on Faun’s lap where she had turned herself to prop herself slightly to rest her lower back against the arm rest and put her feet up on the trunk.

It as a good documentary. If it hadn’t been, Faun would not have been so absorbed in it. In fact, they hardly noticed when King Leopold jumped down to find his bone, and went to chew on it stretched out on the floor in front of the tv. So absorbed in the show, she’d hardly noticed she had kicked off her pumps and pulled her legs up onto the sofa. That is, not until she stretched out her legs on it and felt his legs were going in the other direction

….but he did not seem to notice. And it was at an exciting part of the documentary as they were showing the tools of some legendary Viking lord and all he said was,

“are you cold?” as they were both staring at the screen as the tools were displayed on the screen 

“A little,” she said still watching the screen amazed; hardly noticing that he had pulled a heavy throw blanket across their legs 

It was a two hour documentary and King Leopold fell asleep with his bone and somehow Faun’s legs had wound up nestled comfortably, but unconsciously intermingled with Grant’s grey flannel trousered legs, his own shoes on the floor not far from hers. And then it was hard to say exactly how it happened, when Faun’s phone rang inside her clutch bag; she had forgotten she put it on the side table next to Grant. And when she reached to get it, climbing over him in order to shut it off, he had, at the same moment, reached for her clutch bag in order to give it to her small—but his move had surprised her, throwing her off, so —she actually fell! —and awkwardly, right on top of him!

It was quite embarrassing to her! Slam! And she fell! —and right on top of him! As she landed, and chest down, on him —trapped by the fabric of her dress, as it tangled her and fixed her there —and as she did so, he caught her— with his long limbs to steady her from landing on the floor. 

“Oh!” she nearly had the wind knocked out of her and when she looked up at him now her face was more flushed than before, and then —the phone stopped ringing 

“Missed it,” he said in a half whisper as their faces were now only inches away

“I should—“ she had begun to say ‘go’ as she stared at his sensual mouth— while she tried to move to get up, but drawn by the warmth of him, and the way his eyes watched her, and, forgetting she was trapped, and instead it caused her to fall again, as he caught her. And then, it was hard to say which of them it was —who first made the move, because then she was kissing his mouth—or it was it he who was kissing hers? 

But King Leopold interrupted the moment with that demanding bark that could only mean one thing 

“He needs to go out—“ they both said at the same time 

Side walk side street mystery, dog eared scene continued

 

Grabbing hold of King Leopard’s collar, Grant looked around at their surroundings. He had the sense that someone had been there before when he’d heard the rustling of the leaves 

“That Pierre Reaux seriously got on my nerves! I can’t believe he has the gall to tell you not to leave the country—what is he seriously suggesting you’re a suspect—like what?—you murdered your aunt? I mean, yeah, it is is an odd occurrence to have first one pass away and then the wife—I get that—but, seriously! His attitude! —he’s a crazy, self-impressed egotistical jerk ….But Grant, why do you suppose our chief detective was so angry?” Faun asked, bending to pet King Leopold on the head as they stood with the huge beast who seemed quite shaken too. He had tried to jump up against her when he’d come galloping over, nearly knocking Faun over, unaware that his own weight exceeded hers by some seventy or one hundred pounds but Grant prevented this by stepping between them and a sharp command.

“He said they should not have removed Aunt Fiona until he had the opportunity to investigate things before anything was touched.”

“Oh….” this gruesome detail was disturbing, “but…. they said they had to because—“

“Yes—because they said she must have passed away last night and ….”

He stopped short of saying that the remains would have begun to decay. 

Officer Sullivan with two of his crew and the chief detective had gone upstairs to look for evidence while one remained downstairs to look around for clues of forced entry. And it seemed he was told to stay in order to watch Grant and Faun. They had been upstairs a long time and had come down with clear plastic bags filled with objects from the room that they said was for evidence.

“Gosh….” Faun shuddered and looked at King Leopold, grabbing hold of the folds of his face and affectionately pressed her face to his smelly one, “poor thing—he must have run out for human help, I’d guess.”

“Would you?” Grant asked with some doubt 

“Well, I mean—no, I guess he was scared,” Faun said 

“Or—what if he wasn’t there when it happened?” Grant asked her in a consciously lowered voice 

and because he was whispering, so did she as she said,

“I guess that ….is possible but—why? —and where would he have been….? What are you thinking?”

Grant looked around,

“I think we should go—we shouldn’t be lurking around here,” and he looked back towards the bushes where King Leopold had come out from the shadows and then whispered, “I feel like ….there’s somebody nearby—“ and there was something more implied by his tone, “do you mind taking him with us in your car?”

“Of course not—but I think we should go back in the house first to get his food and things,” Faun looked hesitant at the house and then back at Grant

“I’d rather we didn’t—why don’t we stop by and pick up a bag of dog food at the store, there must be something still open now—I just assume we avoid going back inside there tonight,” he said 

At which point Faun thought she heard more rustling leaves coming from the same direction in the bushes. She looked at King Leopold finding it odd he wasn’t barking at the sound 

“Yeah—let’s go,” she said and dug into her clutch bag for the car keys

Side street mystery; dog eared page

 

Finally, after everyone had gone—with a menacing last remark from Chief detective Pierre Reaux,

“do not plan on leaving the country,” he said looking pointedly at Grant as if a warning, and then he had spun on his heel and left on the tail of the departing policemen.

Grant shut the door behind them and they watched from the window as the cops got into the police cars and Pierre Reaux disappeared across the street. They watched the police cars drive away soon followed by a silver nondescript sedan, the unmistakable profile of Pierre Reaux illuminated by the street light.

Grant had been holding apart the curtain at the window as they watched them depart, and now he dropped the sheer and then closed the heavy hunter green drape. He then went to each window to do the same. There were five windows that circled the front of the house and he went to each one after to do the same. 

When he was done he sighed heavily and leaned against the wall by the last drapery of the bay window he had drawn shut. He stared dully at the floor. Or rather his own shoes. But he was not looking at his shoes, really, he was examining his own thoughts and still seeing Aunt Fiona in his thoughts as she had appeared when he first found her in the bedroom. 

Faun’s first thoughts were out of concern for Grant, even as the shock of seeing a dead body which belonged to someone she knew—and had liked had left her quite shaken as well. Her first instincts were the need to find order among the chaos of everything; she relied heavily upon order, it was always her pillar and source of strength, but also, her desire to provide some means in which to be of help.

“Would it help if I made you tea?” she asked him 

Her words seemed to make no sense to him. At first he blankly stared at her but he was not seeing her, he was still seeing Aunt Fiona and that horrid impression still left upon his inner mental retinas. 

“Erm….” to pause to regain a lucid thought. Then he said, “not here….” 

Yes. There was the burning need to leave the house as soon as possible. 

Faun felt the same and looked around for where she had left her umbrella and clutch. When she spotted both, laid upon the entrance console by the gilt framed mirror to the left of the highly polished wood door she slowly walked towards this.

And cautiously Grant added with a sigh,

“but first, perhaps we had better look for King Leopold,” he raised his now bloodshot, shadowed-forest eyes as she turned to look at him.

Faun drew a gap in the drawn drapery and curtains to look again out the window nearest the console,

“it looks like the rain has finally stopped….” and then dropped the draperies to wait for him by the door, holding both her umbrella and clutch close to herself, repressing a chill that swept through her, “do you know where the house key could be?”

“Check the table drawer,” he suggested, remembering having seen it there often.

Faun found the key,

“we should lock up—make sure all the doors are locked.”

Once they had done they left together, shutting the front door, locking it, and went down the front path towards the chess pieces. 

It seemed a life time had passed since they had walked past them when they had arrived now so many hours ago.

In silence they reached the gate and paused a moment. 

“We can start looking around the block first—I think Arthur usually would walk him to the park thst is down that way—perhaps that’s where Leopold went….”

Faun followed where he pointed and turned as if to go but hesitated,

“Did the paramedic say it was carbon monoxide?” Faun asked him now 

“He said it was not up to him to determine, or something like thst—I forget exactly what he said—I’d mentioned what the coroner told me earlier….”

“Oh,” Faun thought about that 

For a few beats they stood paused at the gate still within the grounds

“What is that?” Grant asked slowly as he listened to something. 

Faun strained her ears.

“Do you hear that?” Grant asked her

At first she hadn’t but after a moment she heard a sound. Like a movement. It sounded like a rustling in the bushes that lined the front of the house. 

Faun reached for her phone and found the phone flashlight. They could see a skunk skulking in a run through the grass 

Instinctively they both moved back a few inches, even as they were well enough away. 

“Just a skunk,” Grant said opening the gate and waited to let her through first 

“Yes,” Faun said as they started out

But then they heard a louder sound of bustling leaves as the thick hedge was disturbed, followed by a loud bark,

“King Leopold!” they both said together as they watched the huge black mastiff come galloping towards them with a terrified expression on its canine, aristocratic face

No king of clubs; side street murder? mystery

 

It was only a matter of minutes before the ambulance arrived, no sooner hung up the phone, they could hear the sirens coming. And then almost just as quickly ….the paramedics pronounced Fiona Bishop dead. 

And then it was a whiplash of events that followed. 

Before the police showed up Grant and Faun sat stunned on the Bishop’s couch next to each other, staring into the room they sat in; the main part of the downstairs was their sitting room; a lavishly furnished room much like the bookshop with the addition of a harpsichord and a standing harp; there were bookcases everywhere filled with books; and books piled on the floor in neat stacks all over the hard wood floor. The colors were deep earthy tones of dark browns and greens with an occasional brick red here and there…. snd sitting there, it was impossible not to imagine Fiona walking through the room and laughing about something she heard someone say at the shop….

“Did you smell any carbon monoxide?” Grant suddenly asked her out of the blue 

For a moment Faun tried to remember ….

“No actually,” she said thoughtfully 

“Neither did I,” he said ponderously 

Then she sat bolt upright and looked at Grant,

“King Leopold!”

Grant sat up too and faced her—he would have stood but he was still in shock and the sudden head rush he got sitting up m, prevented him from standing up just yet. 

He looked at her then away, biting his lower lip as he then played absently with his facial scruff; he considered this. Then he looked back at her,

“he can’t have gone too far, he doesn’t like rain—plus, he’s a mastiff—he’s almost taller than you, someone would have seen him, I should think, and maybe taken him in….” and now he stood up feeling more confident that he could. He turned to look out the window, “it’s likely a good thing he wasn’t here or he’d —maybe be dead ….too,” still as he said this he began walking around the huge room and searching outside through each window, trying not to panic over another crisis, “god,” he said, “that’s all we need now….” 

“The neighbors all know him….” Faun stood up too and began doing what Grant was doing but it was pitch dark out with the exception of the other houses across the street with their lights on —as it was now half past seven in the evening. 

And then the lights of the police cars lit up the road as they looked out.

“It’s the police!” Faun gasped 

Grant glanced at Faun and walked straight to the front door where only moments ago the paramedics had rolled Fiona Bishop out on a stretcher; sheet over her face.

Grant did a quick inhale. Then out. Then stood by the door and watched from the window as four cops got out of two police cars from where they had parked; right out front on the curb. They left their lights flashing on the top of their cars and the spinning, luminous, red cast an eerie light on the evening. It was a formidable image to watch from the living room window of the Bishop’s house. Past the chess pieces, they stormed through, pushing wide the gate and not shy about the pieces they wore on their hip. 

Three very loud knocks followed,

“Police,” the biggest of the four stated through the door—Faun could see him clear from the window 

Grant opened the door. 

In loud pounding footsteps they entered the house, all looking around suspiciously before settling their attentions on Grant and Faun.

“Officer Sullivan,” he held up his badge with terrifying authority and narrowed cold blue eyes on both of them. 

And then it was a long grueling duration of questions, all asked bluntly in fast succession before getting their statements; and in the middle of this —another authority made his entrance; arrogantly cutting in and interrupting the cops’ procedures 

“Who are zese people?” the oily little msn asked Officer Sullivan with a heavy French accent; he wore a long black trench coat and he had dark greasy hair with an odd mustache 

“I’m sorry—and you are?” Grant asked the oily little man 

“I am Chief detective Pierre Reaux!” the little man straightened his back to make himself appear taller as he looked up at Grant, “and I will be investigating the events of tonight!”

It seemed quite unbelievable that any of this was happening; it was like something out of the mystery section, Faun was thinking 

“Did he say Poirot?” Faun looked up at Grant wondering if maybe this was a surreal dream 

Grant wasn’t sure either and looked back at Faun wondering the same thing 

Chief detective Pierre Reaux heard this though and sneered, and with an insulted tone and heavy sarcasm said as he looked down his nose at them, 

“I am not from Belgium—I am from Montreal!”

Faun had a moment to wonder to herself ‘so what are you doing here?’ and rather unimpressed by the man’s arrogance— instead of caring to be embarrassed that he caught the reference (it had to be the shock from the evening) Faun felt outraged! Grant had just found his family member dead —and now this little twit shows up! 

Bishop takes the square; Side street hard boiled mystery

 

After Faun put down the phone, she had the sense that something was wrong as she looked up at Grant; there was slightly more of that troubled look within his intense deep forest eyes with the exception of bright moss in one of them,

“Are you all right?” she had started to move to the cash register to remove the till but he was leaning upon the counter in a brooding manner as he stared dully at the row of volumes of the Oxford English Dictionary, the complete volumes taking up most of the bookcase that was beside the pillar and desk. 

“Erm….” he stared for a moment at the volumes thinking of all the words that must be …. and here he could not find one on how to begin …. finally he looked at her, “I don’t know….” 

The register drawer had popped open with an alarming ring but neither of them seemed aware of it

“Something’s wrong….” Faun said as more a statement than a question 

“Yes—well…. something rather…. quite disturbing and I’m not sure I should bother you with it,” he sighed 

“Is it about the Bishops? —or the bookshop?”

“It’s about Uncle Arthur—well, Arthur I should say as he was not my real uncle as I said and —they married late in life….second marriages, them both ….” he consciously spoke slower now to make sure she caught his words but—he wasn’t sure what he should tell her. Then he shrugged, “damn, I’ll just tell you as this may turn into a—well….I got a call today from the coroner’s office ….”

for a moment those last words hung in the air

At first she wasn’t sure she heard right. 

He watched her face. Such a pretty face too, he thought as he worried now about shocking it, so he raised his dark chestnut thick brooding brows as if to imply his words in case she missed it

It was slightly delayed. She said with s kind of gasp,

“coroners?—you said —did you say coroner’s office?” And her hand went to her throat as she accidentally leaned too hard on the till drawer and it swung back into the register with a loud cash register ring! It was also rather alarming and punctuated the moment 

Grant reached around her and took her first by her slight, narrow shoulders and then outside each arm he placed his hands to move her away from the register,

“yes…. the coroner’s office ….you see, it appears the cause of death was carbon monoxide ….”

“Oh my God!” Faun exclaimed as she thought of the tragedy of Arthur Bishop’s untimely death…. “ I’m so sorry, Grant….” that was the first time she said his name, it just slipped out all on its own and she looked at him

“Well—it’s Aunt Fiona I’m more sorry for….” he said in a hushed tone of regret looking down 

The following silence had Faun’s thoughts considering his words until what he didn’t say dawned,

“oh…. you have to tell her….”

He looked up at Faun now, relieved she connected the dots and then it was the dark, exotic pools of her eyes that lassoed him with their strange almond slant which were looking back at him and now caused him to momentarily forget what he meant to say. 

They were both quiet with their own thoughts for a moment. 

Finally Faun took a deep breath,

“I’ll come with you to tell her—were you going there now?”

Grant let out a sigh of relief,

“yes.”

Faun looked back at the register decisively,

“I’ll balance the till in the morning ….let’s go, we can take my car.”

In the car they were both quiet. It had turned dark and it started to rain as she drove, the wipers on the glass making their antiquated rhythmic sound that felt somehow very reassuring. What is it about old things that can be so comforting in times like this? Faun was thinking. She could have no idea that Grant’s thoughts had been quite similar as he watched the wipers move the rainwater across the windshield making irregular designs where the rubber was coming off the blade

“I should fix that,” he said absently 

“What?” she asked 

She had no idea what he actually said 

But then they were pulling up to the house and suddenly the dreaded deed loomed more uncomfortably for further chat 

“So—I left a message I was coming —so, I expect she knows ….” Grant opened the passenger door and got out.

she had grabbed an umbrella and opened it, raising it high enough over his head as she caught up to him.They walked up the sidewalk together 

The front of the house had high hedges and this gate was flanked not by the usual lions that often decorated pretentious people’s homes but but by two four foot tall, marble, sculpted, chess bishops and for a quick instant Grant paused to caress the top of one,

“he was a good player, I’ll give him that,” he said and glanced back at her before opening the black, iron gate and letting her through before continuing up to the door 

Faun followed behind him, then up the path to the door. 

He knocked, and called through the door,

“Aunt Fiona—it’s me—I’m here with Faun….” 

They waited outside in the dark. 

“No porch light on….” Grant said wondering aloud 

They both looked up to see if there were any lights on in the house that they could see from outside and to get a better view, they both walked back along the front walk to look up at the house to see if any lights were on upstairs. 

“Oh—yes, there—“Faun pointed, “that must be the bedroom—I see a light up there.”

Grant looked up,

“Ok, let’s try again,” he said and went quickly back up the steps to the door.

He knocked. This time the door latch came open and the door swung open.

“Odd,” he said and went in

“I think you should go up alone, maybe she fell asleep and it would be alarming to see both of us in her bedroom,” she said, “I’ll wait a moment—maybe I’ll make tea….?—or ….?”

But she had been here before. And something felt a bit off….the dog!

“Where is King Leopold?”

Grant looked at her and even in the dark it seemed he went pale as a ghost

“Leopold….” he rushed up the stairs 

Faun waited by the door as she watched ….

It seemed an eternity followed ….but was really only less than a minute before she heard him shout,

“Faun!”

She ran up the stairs and followed the light, she found the bedroom and there was Grant standing beside the bed next to…. what was clearly Fiona Bishop but…. she was not moving 

Faun moved slowly to Grant’s side and when she was beside him he said in a barely audible tone,

“oh my god….” he stood frozen, Faun reached for his ice cold hand as he whispered, “I think she’s dead.”