Chapter 3 - Hands on -
"You're kidding right? No, no way."
Violet sat on a bar stool at the island piece in their new kitchen chewing on a piece of apple and shaking her head apprhensively at her mother.
"Come on violet you don't have to stay long, ten... fifteen minutes maximum, just bear with me, please."
"Aw Mom... I'm not spending the afternoon sipping Lipton with you and that bunny boiling bitch next door listening to her pipe on about her failed Hollywood career, she smells like tequila, plus her voice makes me want to bury my head in the drywall!
"Violet, come on." Vivien frowned.
"Seriously, just tell her I don't feel well..."
"She specifically asked that you come, she's gone to a lot of effort, don't be rude."
"You know she just wants the low down on your's and Dad's screwy marriage so she has something to cluck about at her weekly poker game. Why are you channeling her bullshit?"
"Violet don't speak like that." Vivien frowned.
"Which statement.?" Violet asked, they were both true. Silence.
Violet averted her gaze towards the refridgerator, her brow furrowed.
"Violet..." Viven finally said. Violet turned her head slowly knowing it was rude to look away while her mother was speaking.
"She mentioned she has children." Vivien chirped.
"Cause I just looove children..." Violet said with pure sarcasm.
"They're about your age Violet, she mentioned her son in particular, Tate." Vivien heightened her tone slightly at the latter part as if Violet would some how change her mind cause she was a teenage girl and she heard the three letter b word.
Violet gave Vivien her best are you serious? eyebrow raise, which Vivien received with a pleasant ignorance.
The last thing Violet needed on top of the bullies she knew she would meet come Monday was some dumbshit boy cruising for tail, telling her she's overreacting when she voices her opinion on something. Who wants to hear a girl talk when they could have their tongue down her throat right?
Violet hadn't been on many dates in Boston but her small track record wasn't anything successful. Boys just didn't really get her if that was the simplest way she could explain it. She had spent her entire time at middle school somewhat mentally anguished thinking there was something wrong with her, she even once wondered if she was gay, but she didn't like girls either most of them fed societies expectations. Then she read Revolutionary Road one Summer gave the world her two red polished fingers and stopped trying to fit in.
"Oh Great! were not even here a week and your already pimping me out in exchange for social validiation."
"Violet its not like that, I just, I want to do this properly, this is our home now." Vivien looked as thought she was trying to convince herself.
"I just, Vi I need you to help me. I thought maybe it would be a chance for you to make some friends...Or not, whatever you like. Just please, do this one thing for me."
Vivien looked at her daughter sincerely.
Violet sighed in defeat, she really felt for her Mom sometimes she looked so... lost, caught up in trying to fix the Harmon mess. The truth was Violet would do anything to make her parents happy even if it meant an afternoon spent in the company of the neighbourhood bigot.
Happy Happy Happy. That's all that mattered. Things are good when people are happy. Happy is good. But god, Violet wished she could be happy too.
"Fine, but I'm not engaging in any conversation!"
Vivien smiled as she went over to plant a motherly kiss on her daughter's forehead.
"I'll go grab my purse, don't move."
Violet jumped down off the counter flinging the remains of a half eaten fruit into the trash with a little too much force.
Great she thought, just great.
Violet felt the sudden urge to sprint back to the safety of her own bedroom after her mother's finger landed on Constance Langdon's doorbell. A cheerful chime-like ding dong erupted from inside the house, however Violet thought the opening of Beethoven's 5th would be a much better suited tune. Violet smiled acutely to herself until she noticed her mom was looking at her and quickly switched her expression to one that resembled mild constipation.
"Come on I know she's a bit...outspoken, but I don't think she means any harm."
Who was she trying to convince?
"A bit? Mom shes a-"
Violet was suddenly cut off when the front door was opened, revealing Constance in a clean checkered apron most likely for show looking like she had forgotten to take out her hot rollers last night.
"Well hello there Mrs Harmon and look there's sweet Violet, won't you come in?"
"Oh please call me Vivien"
Violet just smiled ruefully at Constance.
Violet reluctantly closed the front door behind her following her Mom who was being led by Constance through the hall towards the kitchen. They layout of Constance's house was similar to Violet's except the decor was more old and traditional, everything matched oddly, scarily. Violet noticed the hall was scattered with various forms of art, she noticed in particular odd looking murals of slightly demonic looking individuals becuase she didn't recongnise them. Violet usually had an eye for alternative art pieces but next to a portrait of Raphael's Madonna on a floral wallpapered background things just didn't sit well.
The two Harmons seated themselves at Constance's breakfast table while she went to make a pot of tea.
Violet couldn't help but feed her niggling curiosity. She let her eyes explore every inch of the kitchen. Amongst an old grandfather clock, several of those tacky wall plates with transfers of various breeds of small dogs and several glass cabinets she noticed a framed photo.
There was a picture of two children, a boy and a girl that looked like eighties preschoolers. Violet sat forward in an effort to focus in on the image.
"Would you like to see my children Violet?" Constance asked as she placed a steaming pot of tea on the table. But before Violet could answer Constance was already over there taking the photo down. She handed the wooden framed photo to Violet. Now that she could see it clearly she noticed the little brown haired, blue eyed girl had down syndrome but her brother didn't.
He looked a bit younger than the girl. His hair was blonde and curly and he had big brown eyes and a cheeky smile. These were pretty cute kids considering they came out of Constance. Violet handed the photo to her mother and watched as Vivien's eyes lit up.
"They're adorable Constance," Vivien cooed.
"Yes, Adelaide's a mongoloid, Tate is my only perfect child but even he falls short sometimes. I had another son, Beau but he's no longer with us, heaven rest his soul he had a serious respiratory ailment." Violet was really hating that woman's accent right now.
"How come you have no picures of your other son, the one who died, I can't see any." Violet commented.
"Violet! I'm very sorry for your loss Constance, Violet is too." Vivien glared at her daughter.
"Yeah... sorry." Violet said in a small voice.
"It's alright. Well Beau he wasn't very... photogenic, Addie could almost look normal if she smiled big enough."
Vivien's eyes widened as she almost chocked on her tea consoled by the fact that she was at least a better mother than Constance. Violet sent her mom a told you so look across the table and folded her arms with satisfaction.
"Well that's enough sorrow contemplation, I have something you girls will love, I'll be right back." Constance rose from her chair and left Vivien and Violet alone.
"I say we make a run for it now, while she's occupied, we could totally make it, Mom."
"No Violet."
"Mom you said ten minutes I've been here for fifteen." Violet looked at the clock.
"Please Vi don't leave me here on my own with her."
Happy Violet thought, I'm making her happy.
Violet sighed miserably and rested her forehead on the table.
"Violet dear don't slouch it's very bad for your posture, even someone as short as you." Constance was suddenly reseated a frayed white photo album in her hand, a bottle of scotch and a tumbler. Violet sat up straight, annoyed. Violet watched as Constance poured herself an afternoon drink, it was barely past twelve.
"Bit early don't you think?" Violet pointed out spitefully. Constance sent Violet a beady eyed sideways glance.
"My dear, the Lord said be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess; but be filled with the Spirit. Ephesians chapter five, verse eighteen. We all have our own indulgences." Constance slowly exphasised the word indulgences as she watched Violet eye the pack of marlboros on the table with desire.
Violet realised she would have to find a new place to smoke in peace. Of course Constance had been spying on her.
Two and a half minutes later Constance was in full swing story telling mode, informing Vivien of her acting debut in a production of Oklahoma in the sixties. Violet found her eyes wandering again. Noticing how neurotically tied the blind strings on the window were Violet wondered if it would be possible to strangle herself with them or perhaps a length of wire from the old upright Steinway she noticed in the lounge on the way in.
Violet then thought of a more realistic means of escape, for now anyway.
"Constance may I use your bathroom?"
"Why certainly. The downstairs one is being re-tiled but if you go upstairs it's the second door on the left.
"Awesome thanks."
Violet couldn't get out of the kitchen fast enough.
When she found herself in Constance's bathroom she took a seat on the edge of the bath tub and let out the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding in. From the corner of her eye she saw the gleam of a lady shave sticking out of Constance's toiletry bag.
Suddenly consumed by a rush of adrenaline Violet felt slightly ill. She tried to compose her breathing. A cigarette would probably fill the gap but she didn't even have any with her, she crossed her legs and uncrossed them again.
No not here. She couldn't. It was too risky. The last thing she needed was Constance walking in on her mid slice, Violet didn't want to give that woman anymore dirt she could use against her.
Violet splashed some cold water on her face and flushed the toilet for effect. She exited the bathroom with the intention to go straight down the stairs and out the front door, but the sunlight radiating from an open door stopped her in her tracks. She could see into what looked like a boy's room, Tate's room she figured.
Violet wasn't going to lie she was curious to see the bedroom of Constance's golden boy.
Standing in the middle of the floor she took in her surroundings. The walls were painted a pale blue colour, notibly bare, there were no posters or photos. Everything was neat and tidy. The bed was made perfectly and some school books were stacked neatly on his desk. There was no trace of Constance in this room, in fact there was no trace of anyone.
Violet started to wonder if anyone actually lived here. Maybe Constance was some kind of psychotic who killed all her children in blind rage years ago and make believes they're still here. Maybe she had lured Violet and her mom here to kill them to add to her taxidermy family in the attic. Yes, Violet was definitely glad she hadn't touched her tea although she was now worried about her mother but her curiosity prevailed.
Violet made her way over to Tate's closet and opened the doors. It was filled with usual boy crap clothes and stuff. But then she looked up and saw impressive mountains of books stacked high on a shelf above. Short as she was was, it would be impossible for her to reach it without making considerable amounts of noise so she didn't even bother.
She settled on browsing his equally impressive CD collection which was at least at her eye level. It was mostly loud noisy stuff Violet had no interest in but when she ventured further down she found some versatility that put a smile on her face as she recognised some bands she listened to as well.
His collection wasn't organised in any obvious manner but she loved that he kept Joy Division and New Order nowhere near each other.
Nonetheless, she closed the closet door dissatisfied. She had found out he had decent taste in music but that was hardly bad, she needed to find something dirty, something wrong that would falter his perfect boy with a perfect room chirade.
She started on his drawers next. More clothes, underwear and stuff. On a shelf beside a music system she found some crumpled pages which she discovered were certificates, there were some medals too. He was a track runner, a successful one. Well once was, the certificates were three years old. She liked the sudden sense of rebellion she got from that.
Something bad, she needed to find imperfection. She knelt down beside his bed to search the small cabinet beside at his bedside. She found a swiss army knife, deck of cards, money, cigarette cutter, some packets of rolling paper, the feint smell of marijuana clung to the interior wood although there was none there now.
Lukewarm, now she was getting somewhere.
Bingo.
The next compartment had bottles and packets of pills of various kinds. Okay so the kid had some problems, again she knew who his mother was. Scanning the bottles she saw some Prozac, various BZD's and others she presumed were Valium or something similar.
One bottle was unmarked however. Jesus what else was he on. Vitamins maybe? Or a protein supplement would be hilarious. Violet lifted up the bottle but it felt different. She shook it, but there were no pills inside, just one solid package. She popped off the cap not caring how nosy she was being right now and emptied the contents. A single small plastic bag fell out onto her open palm it was filled with white powder.
The guy was also a coke head, naughty boy. Violet knew there was something he was hiding from his mother and she had found it.
She decided she would steal it, give it back sometime of course but see if he went bat shit crazy without it. She didn't know why but she wanted to mess with this guy's head, maybe she got it from her Dad.
Violet's smug grin fell however when she heard the front door slam and fast paced heavy foot steps ascending the stairs - that definitely wasn't Constance.
Shit.
Tate was home and about five seconds away from barging in here.
It took Violet a second too long to react but she threw his pill bottles back in and slammed the drawer shut. She made for the door like Speedy Gonzales on crack. No, with crack - in her hand.
She forgot to put the drugs back in too, her plan was backfiring and now it was too late.
Just as his bedroom door opened she closed her hand tightly around the small package as if enough force would make it disintegrate into nonexistence.
She figured maybe she could try charm her way out of this one, she was intelligent but also pretty. He was psychotic though judging from the pills he had anger problems and anxiety. Yeah she was in trouble she thought. The door opened, Violet froze.
She now stood facing the little blonde haired boy from the photo downstairs, only now he wasn't a cute little preschooler with a cheeky smile. He was practically a man with broad shoulders and he towered over her, a bemused look in his eyes which looked more black than brown, no emotion on his face whatsoever. It suddenly felt like time had slowed down as Violet was unsure whether he terrified or aroused her.
Slowly she brought her hand behind her back to slip the package into her jean pocket, she'd find someway to return it maybe plant it in Constance's handbag - but right now she just needed to get out so she could run home crawl into bed and sleep/cry away the embarrassment she was feeling right now.
He was standing in the door way blocking her exit though.
"Sorry, I got lost, I was... looking for the...eh... bathroom."
He didn't move, just stared at her, both feeling uncomfortable.
"Excuse me" she said as she went to pass by him but his arm suddenly shot out and gripped the door frame like a steel binder in front of her face halting her exit. Violet could see the tendons in his arm twitching slightly. She gulped. She went to duck under his arm but just as she moved, he stood forward and she had no choice but to stand back he shut the door behind them, she was trapped now.
"Bullshit" he said simply. His tone was low, like velvet covered steel.
"Move please." she said but there was more plea than authority to her tone right now. Tate stepped out of her way but as soon as she went to open the door he reached a hand out and closed it again. Who the fuck did he think he was?
She turned around to face him slowly, he was closer than expected, his face was now inches from hers and sometime during the last two seconds he had managed to cage her in against the door his arms either side of her head, despite having not touched her.
There was no longer amusement on his face, but something dark. She could see it smoldering in his eyes, some kind of want or need, something he was trying to fight off.
Maybe she'd caught him on a trip. Shit. Inside she was freaking out running around screaming, but years of practise had granted her access to a poker face exterior which she now displayed.
"What did you slip into your pocket?" he almost purred scanning every part of her face.
"I don't know what your talking about." she played, trying to harden her voice but she couldn't steady her exhale.
Tate could hear the shake in her voice. Her enormous brown doe-like eyes were glistening with a thrill he found too familiar. She liked the feeling of fear, just like him.
Feeding off her reaction, he retracted one of his arms from the door and reached a hand around, placed it on her waist and held her tightly before he leaned in towards her face,
"Don't play dumb, I saw you." he whispered in her ear. She shuddered slightly at the feel of his words in her ear. His blonde hair was tickling her cheek.
Violet felt her heart leap up her throat but in response to something other than fear. She felt that familiar twinge she got in her lower abdomen when she touched herself at night.
Tate slowly skimmed his fingers downward barely touching her at all until he reached her small backside, where he let the tips of his fingers linger at the entrance of her pocket. She was glaring at him now, clearly offended, he was definitely up inside her space. Slowly he slipped his hand inside, his fingers spreading out, moving down further into the small opening in slow motion.
"Straight to second base, wow you're persistant." she squirmed trying to appear like she didn't give a fuck that he was practically groping her.
Ignoring her he continued downward until he located what he was looking for although he had almost forgotten he was actually looking for something. Go figure, she had tried to lift his coke. He pulled out the package slowly, undeservingly enjoying the curve of her ass cheek beneath his fingertips on the way out. He brought the item up to display it between both their faces.
"Trying to get me in trouble with my dealer?" he asked amused.
"Maybe." she smirked slyly standing her ground. He smirked and brought his lips to her ear again.
"Keep your hands off my stuff, and I'll keep mine off yours, deal?"
This time however Tate got a different reaction. Violet's hands suddenly shot out forcefully. Colliding with his chest unexpectedly she pushed him roughly and he stumbled backwards.
"GET OFF! Touch me again and you will regret it." she threathened furiously. There was some kind of mean passion in her eyes.
There was a wild strength that radiated from her, a fierceness that made him want to hunt her, pin her down like some exotic animal, claim her but never harm her release her eventually.
Violet gave Tate one last stare finalising her threat before he watched motionless as she opened the door and fled. He walked across the room and watched her from his window as she ran home, her long fawn hair flapping in the breeze.
He knew she wasn't bluffing. The fact that he had caught her trying to sabotage him having never met her before told him she could make bad shit happen if she wanted.
Power like that wasn't physical, it required an exceptional mind and he'd gladly let Violet Harmon headfuck him any day of the week.