III. Two Births

My black cat, named Finn, was perched on the rail of the porch. As Roxanne and I climbed the stairs, he greeted us with a wrrr.

After we entered Grandmother's cottage, Roxanne looked around mournfully.

"I always liked your Grandmother," she said. "I will always remember when I was six. I had that fever and saw terrible visions of puppets and dragons. Your Grandmother brought me that special tea she brewed, and she nursed me back to health. She was like my own Grandmother: she was like that to half the village."

"I miss her too," I said with a heavy heart, as I took off the cloak that she had given me.

With the poker, I stirred the embers in the hearth, and put another log on the fire. Then I took the washtub down from its hook on the wall.

"Get undressed," I told Roxanne. "I'll get some water from the rain barrel."

When I returned with two buckets of water, Roxanne's dirty clothes were piled at her feet; and she was modestly wrapped in a blanket. I poured one bucket into the washtub, and the other into the kettle hanging over the fire. Then I got two more buckets of water for Roxanne's bath.

When the water in the kettle was warm enough, I poured it into the washtub, and handed Roxanne a clean rag.

"There you go," I said. "While you wash up, I'll get out some of Grandmother's old clothes for you to wear. You're a bit taller, but they'll have to do until we wash your clothes."

Roxanne stood bashfully wrapped in the blanket, until I disappeared behind the curtain were my Grandmother's bed stood. There was a big cedar chest there. I opened it and searched the contents from some clothes to give to Roxanne. As I searched, I heard her splashing in the bath water.

As I brought her some of my Grandmother's old clothes, I stole a salacious peek at her nude body. She was hale and plump; her skin was white and creamy; her big pink nipples were wet and cold—hard and pointy. She caught me looking at her and smiled at me. It had been many months since I saw her smile: it made me happy. I smiled back, but turned away quickly. I had been looking at her the way Peter used to look at me.

I started to prepare supper, but I couldn't concentrate. I kept peeking at Roxanne. Whenever she caught me, she smiled.

Finally she was trying to rinse the suds from her long rusty-colored hair. I went over to her.

"Let me help you," I said, "or you'll spill water all over the floor."

I took the ladle from her, touching her hand as I did so. She stretched her neck back, letting her hair hang down. I couldn't take my eyes off her beautiful white throat. I wanted to kiss it, to bite it. I ladled the water over her hair with a trembling hand. When I was done, she looked at me.

"Are you all right, Valerie?" she asked. "You're shaking."

I swallowed hard. I felt feverish. She thought I was the strong one, but I couldn't resist temptation.

"You're beautiful, Roxanne."

"Do you think so? The swains at the tavern all say I'm too fat."

"At the tavern?" I spit. "Have you been loitering there?"

Ashamed, she looked away from me.

"I—ah—I—" she stuttered, her face turning bright red while she tried to cover her nudity with her arms. "I knew you shouldn't have taken me in. I'm no good."

"No," I said. "It's not that." I paused, and Roxanne looked at me expectantly. "I—I don't want," I stuttered, then nearly shouted: "I don't want to share you with those dirty old pigs at the tavern, or anyone else!"

"W-what?"

I grabbed her. Grabbed her more roughly than I intended and kissed her on the mouth just as Peter used to kiss me. She was pliant and warm and soft.

We were both breathing hard when I finally let her go.

"Oh, Valerie," she sighed.

"Live here, Roxanne," I said. "Live with me, help me, share the cottage with me and..." I turned and gazed at the curtain, behind which was my Grandmother's big bed.

Roxanne turned her head and followed my gaze.

With curious Finn following us, I took Roxanne's hand and led her to the bed. She lay on it and watched me while I undressed. Then I crawled onto the bed with her. I caressed the curve of her body, and I could feel the tension in her body. However, I felt her eagerness when I kissed her. As my lips pressed to hers, her anxiety evaporated, leaving only excitement and desire. She locked her arms around me and pulled me close. Her lips held mine. Our kiss was continuous, with only brief gasping breaks for air.

Our blissful embrace went on and on.

We purred, moaned, and shrieked. Again and again.

It was dark outside when our passions flagged. Only the orange glow of the embers in the hearth cast a feeble light in the silent cottage.

We were still breathing hard; and with my finger tips, I was caressing Roxanne's upper arm.

"I can't describe how I feel," she said. "I can't. No words are that beautiful."

"My Grandmother used to tell me that when you fall in love, you're born again and receive a new soul," I said.

Roxanne smiled, and I kissed her again.

[contd]