Rapunzel In A Fishbowl

Richard wore his best suit, clinching a bouquet of roses as he rang the bell. Alternately swimming in seas of euphoria and thoughtfulness after the long drive from Albany to Edmeston, he hadn't slept much that night and for once he was glad about the black eye as it distracted from the black shadows under his eyes. Of course he was well aware of the fact that he even wasn't a beauty without it, but he still wanted to look good. He wanted Emily to see an attractive man. Someone she'd desire just like he desired her. And a lanky guy with the crinkled face of a tired out bum sure was nothing that would attract her, she who always looked so beautiful and perfect. Still there had been some lived passion last night. No matter how her reaction afterwards had been, she'd drifted away just like he. And how good it had felt to feel her, to feel a woman that close after months of abstinence, what an easement it had been to be eventually relieved of all the pent-up covetousness. However the easement hadn't lasted for too long. He was hungry for more and it drove him crazy, almost a small obsession. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply to get rid of the tension, opening them hastily again when he heard somebody at the door.

To Richard's awkward surprise it wasn't the maid who opened the door, but the landlady herself. Lillian Johnson scrutinized him from bottom to top. Her facial expression didn't give away the slightest emotion. There was no disapproval, but neither was there benevolence as her look wandered over his toe-caps and the flowers, glancing at his suit and the collar of his shirt, eventually examining his face until their eyes met. For a second he was caught by the irrational fear she could tell what he'd just been thinking - or even worse what they'd done in the car - just by looking at him with her vigilantly green eyes. Richard felt pearls of sweat building on his forehead, not to talk of his sticky palms. Although his mother had taught him otherwise, he wasn't able to utter a word and so it was Lillian who spoke after she had finished her appraisal.

"Good evening, Mr. Gilmore", she greeted him politely and her voice was just as neutral as her face. At least now he knew why it sometimes was so hard to see behind Emily. Apparently her mother hadn't just taught her how to be the proper wife.

Nervously Richard cleared his throat. "Good evening, Mrs. Johnson", he handed her the flowers, which were originally supposed to be Emily's.

"Why thank you", Lillian took them. "My daughter in exchange for some flowers. A nice deal for you, isn't it?"

"My, she hates him", Emily heard a voice and winced, unable to suppress a small shriek.

"God, Hopie, you scared me to death!"

Her sister kneeled beside her and peeked down the wooden stair rail. "I'm still not talking to you", she announced proudly, trying to get a better view at the happenings downstairs.

"Why are you obviously searching my closeness then?", Emily remarked dryly and looked down on their touching shoulders.

This time it was up to Hopie to wince back. She did although it tasted the better view. Principle was principle.

Lillian Johnson didn't invite him in and Richard had a hard time figuring out what she expected him to do. "Is Emily here?", he eventually asked gormless and Lillian had no mercy pointing it out.

"Where else should she be, Mr. Gilmore? You have an appointment after all."

"Well, yes, of course", he stammered and gave up. Whatever he'd say, he'd probably walk straight into the next trap. For their next meeting he would have to think of something. He would have to find a way to leave a decent impression otherwise she'd think he was a jerk forever no matter what else the future brought.

After another eternity, Lillian put him out of his misery. "I'll tell my daughter you're here."

"Thank you", Richard thanked the closed door.

"You two can come out of your hiding place", Lillian announced and her daughters appeared from behind the stair rail, their heads glowing like illuminated tomatoes. "Seriously, how old are you?", she scolded them annoyed.

"I'm sorry, Mother", both said simultaneously.

"At least you two seem to have found a common interest again", she couldn't help to remark and noted their caught faces with amusement. "Now, now", she clapped her hands softly. "Back to your room, Henriette. You still have to practice the violin for at least another 20 minutes if I'm not mistaken. And you'd better get down here Emily, if we don't want to freeze your rose cavalier to death and smash your father's dreams."

Henriette made a disappointed face and walked behind the next corner, where she stopped and pressed her slender body against the wall. Her hope to become invisible didn't turn true.

"If I don't hear you playing an accurate Bach within the next 40 seconds, I'll have a serious word with your teacher about some extra lessons", Lillian told her hiding youngest while she gestured Emily to get downstairs once more. "Turn around", she asked her and Emily did as she was told. The light blue sheath dress she wore was too daring in Lillian's eyes. Maybe it was high-necked, but there was a small, U shaped cut in the material that gave a glimpse to her décolleté and with the hem one handbreadth over her daughter's knees and the lack of sleeves the dress gave away way too much sight on skin. Alongside the pearl necklace and bracelet it was a rather decent overall picture at least and if her daughter would wear the fitting bolero jacket that now hang over her arm, it could work. Lillian sighed. "It's January", she said, a small motion of her head towards the jacket.

Emily understood the broad hint and got into it, closing the large button with an impatient smile. "May I go now?", she asked.

"You may go and get your coat", she answered. "I don't hear Bach yet", she added a little louder and there was a faint noise upstairs before Henriette appeared at the stair rail.

"Mother, please", she begged despite she knew better.

"Ten seconds, Henriette", Lillian answered. "Unless you want me to call Mr. Hemming at eleven. I'm sure he'd appreciate some extra money for daily lessons."

Henriette gnashed her teeth. "You just got yourself a free Bach concert", she mumbled and vanished into the direction of her room.

"I heard that Henriette", Lillian cat-called her and concentrated on Emily again, who put on her gloves. "You'll keep the bolero on and closed until you're home again."

"Yes, Mother", she nodded.

"And you'll be home at nine o'clock sharp."

"Of course", she agreed once more, it mingled with the sound of a distant violin.

"You may go then."

"Thank you", she curtsied relieved and walked towards the door, opening it. "Hello Richard", she greeted him only after she'd closed the door again.

"Emily", he kissed her hand. "You look beautiful."

"Oh now", she waved aside and hardly tried to look not too flattered over his compliment. "But thank you", she added politely.

Richard grinned. He loved her with blushed cheeks. "Ready to go?", he offered her his arm.

For a second Emily hesitated, wondering if it'd be too intimate for what was supposed to be a first date. But then they officially had dated last summer, they were supposed to marry and overall she wanted to take his arm. "Yes", she linked with him, a warm shiver. Their eyes met and she couldn't help but smile as she looked up to him. This was perfect. He was and everything else faded away.

Richard guided her to his car, opening the door for her. Another wave of hesitation swilled through her, the memory of the last night did and she could feel some more blood surging to her face. "Thank you", she murmured without looking at him and got into the car, hardly trying to get rid of the uneasiness she suddenly felt and getting back the warm euphoria it had replaced. Yes, they had - she had done things more than inappropriate. But it was Richard. Richard for heaven's sake, not just any guy. The guy she intended to spend the rest of her life with. She didn't want to lose him. She couldn't. Some obligingness, she therefore had decided last night, was necessary. She liked kissing him anyway, more than that, she loved it. And if he wanted her to do the other thing again, she would. Yet, making this decision and being here in this car, being where it first had happened and having a faded picture of the intimate encounter playing in her head were two different things. Theory and practice didn't get along very well, education and life didn't. Somehow she was glad her mother had set an accurate schedule that wouldn't leave time for more than dinner, perhaps a fleeting kiss goodbye. And maybe, maybe there even was the slight chance he'd tell her again he loved her.

"So", Richard asked her and started the car. "Where do you want to go on our first date?"

"My mother booked a table at Elda's on Lark", she confessed. My mother booked a table. Mommy organized everything. She did it in between combing my hair and tying my shoes. It truly was an embarrassing thing to confess for a 21-year-old and Emily hated she had to.

"Sounds like a nice place to go to."

"They have good food", Emily stared at her gloved fingers.

"But?"

"There's no but."

"Why did I hear an unspoken but in your last sentence then?"

"There was no -", Emily stopped as she felt him staring at her. "Well, yes. Maybe there was one."

"And…..???", he gestured her to continue.

"And we'll probably spend the evening in a goldfish bowl. Or should I say the three hours we have?"

"Three hours only?", he called out with disappointed surprise.

"It's better than nothing."

"We even won't have time for dessert."

"If we order and eat fast, we will."

"Speed dating, now great", he murmured stroppy and she gave him a hurt look. "I'm sorry", he apologized, realizing it was unfair to take his resentment out on her. "I just imagined tonight to be a little different. I wanted to have a decent dinner with you, some dancing afterwards and a walk", Richard stopped the car at the ramp to the main street. "I'm sure it'll be a pleasant evening nevertheless", he patted her hand.

"I hope so", she replied with a small smile.

"We should start it with something pleasant then don't you think? A proper kiss hello for example would be a grandiose starting shot", he grinned mischievously and she rolled her eyes with a smile. "Now? Do I get one?", he pressed on.

"Why not", she replied and he leaned over for a soft kiss.

"Hello", he said afterwards and she laughed. "You're really beautiful tonight", he told her and kissed her again, noting gladly she wrapped her arms around his neck and relaxed for good.

"We had better go now", she broke the actual kiss after a while and Richard put a line of kisses onto her neck as she continued to talk. "My mother might send out a search party, if we don't arrive at Elda's in what she considers to be a proper time span."

"Spoilsport", Richard sighed, only unwillingly he disengaged from her. If it were up to him, they could've spent the entire evening in the car.

"I need you alive", Emily stated softly.

"The search party is armed?"

"Armed enough to turn you in to my mother. And she won't need any weapons, believe me."

"I'm so glad you've a pass tonight, Rapunzel."

"You better stop joking around, if you don't want those to be your last jokes."

"As you wish, Dear", he put a smacker onto her cheek and eventually navigated the car onto the main street. "So, where's the goldfish bowl where we're going to enjoy ourselves?"

"Lark Street, around the corner of Washington Park."

"Lark Street", he repeated. "I could've figured that out myself."

"Nobody is perfect."

"But I'm close, aren't I?"

Emily laughed. "Very close", she smiled broadly. "And if you eventually would look onto the street instead of staring at me, we even might have a chance to arrive at Elda's in one piece."

To be continued

ATN: I apologize for the terrible delay and hope you haven't forgotten this little story of mine. Thanks to Mel and thanks for all the lovely reviews!