July, 28th
Margaret:
It's 10.00 AM and we're dressed and ready for... I'm not exactly sure what. Kiss each other goodbye, perhaps? I hope not.
John takes me by the hand and invites me to sit next to him on the couch. He's in full John Thornton mode, the man I first met and didn't like. He is the same. I'm not.
-"Margaret", he leans forward with his elbows perched on his thighs, and he closes his hands in fists and then stretches out his palms and fingers, a gesture I think he does when he's planning what to do, "Sanders sent me a message and rescheduled the meeting for today and I still have to confirm. I want to know, are you coming today too?" His gaze is piercing and his face is a strange combination of softness and strength. "I think you should, but that's up to you, really, and..." he takes again my hand and caresses it, "Are you sure about the loan? It's a lot of money".
-"John", is this our first argument as a couple?, "It is the right thing to do", it has just dawned on me that this used to be a painful prerequisite but apparently it is painful no more, "and I don't want to argue about it".
His eyes widen.
-"My love, we're not arguing", he kisses my hand. "How many investor meetings with Sanders have you attended?"
-"Yesterday was going to be my first one".
A smile blooms in his face like the first sunshine spreading through the morning's sky.
-"Well, I've known Sanders for a long time. She and I understand each other well but we're not exactly best friends", he says.
-"What" I frown, "does that mean?"
John pauses for a moment and I realize that Melanie and John must be both very difficult to bargain with.
-"You're not in the middle, you know? Sanders protects your interests and she does so admirably. I'd say you come and listen, and if you have any questions you ask. But have faith" and his eyes sparkle. How could I not have faith in him? Now I am sure he can do everything, maybe even fly. "I would rather change my clothes before lunch. Do you want to come with me or do we meet at the restaurant?"
Even if it's John's temporary lodgings I am so curious to see where he lives that I agree. We get there a little later, it's a tiny flat decorated to anyone's taste; not ugly but utterly impersonal.
The wardrobe, instead, is a feast for my nose. Everything smells of John. It's divine.
-"Where do you live in Milton?", I ask while letting my fingertips do what I'd rather have my nose do.
He's putting on a clean shirt, unfortunately covering what I'd prefer stayed bare. Ah.
-"I had to sell my home so I'm currently living with my mother. Exactly what a man says to impress a lady", he adds with a self deprecatory chuckle.
I smile back but this is no laughing matter. The impact of Marlborough Mills going down is just huge. Hopefully things will change soon.
-"How do you see yourself as part of the Mills management?" asks John from the bathroom, where he's brushing his teeth. "Hypothetically speaking, I mean. But how would that work with you?"
Strange question. It had never crossed my mind because I want to be where I can make a difference, policy making or fighting against gender inequalities, or...
Wait a moment.
Why not from Marlborough Mills itself? Would it work out? Why not?
John is peering down at me attentively while all these ideas cross my mind at high speed.
-"I never pictured myself working in heavy machinery repair industry management, that's all", I reply truthfully. "But I need some time to think it over... and I don't know... we'd be working together".
-"Do you see now that the Mills isn't just about mechanics?" The respect and affection of these words are eye opening. "I'm sure we could make a great team", John adds encouragingly, "but if you feel it won't make you happy then just leave it at that. Just an idea..."
It honours me that he believes me capable of helping manage the Mills, that I can be trusted with that responsibility even if I evidently have no previous background to speak of. I realize this is the first time someone's opinion of me counts so much. I see myself through his eyes, and what I see isn't half bad.
I shrug and smile and we head for the restaurant where roughly twenty-four hours ago we met not to be apart since. This thought makes me laugh and I share it with John, who gives that sly, half smile I'm getting acquainted with and that makes my knees go weak.
John:
We enter the restaurant together and fortunately Ms. Sanders hasn't arrived yet. We're lead to another table; yesterday's table is occupied, I notice, by an elderly couple who are quietly smiling at each other over their menus. As we sit at the newly assigned table I keep them in my field of vision and for a fleeting second I wish one day Margaret and I will be like those two. But then I'm back to the present, to asking for water and waiting.
Margaret:
Melanie arrives five minutes past time and apologizes for her tardiness. She shakes hands with John and kisses me on the cheek, a very mother-like gesture of her that makes me feel appreciated and protected.
We order our meals; I stick with the chicken salad but John today asks for a steak with a side of mashed potatoes. I'm sure he must be starving and I muse about his eating habits: a body like his must need a lot of energy and it the past twenty-four hours a lot went off and very little in.
Soon Melanie and John start discussing details of the loan and they lose me very quickly. Matter of fact they seem to be talking in their own language and lack of sleep catches up with me. I blink so my eyelids don't drop and I stifle yawn after yawn.
Well, this is embarrassing.
John's eyes are slightly puffy and if watched closely one could detect dark circles under them, but there's no other telling sign in his demeanor that he hasn't rested.
-"Excuse me", I tell them, "I'm afraid I'm not following you. This is all a little overwhelming."
Both Melanie and John interrupt their conversation? argument? recitation? and look at me, a shade of concern crossing their faces although I guess they have different meanings. I make a very vague gesture that could mean just anything but only tries to cover the fact that I feel like a fool.
-"I need to go to the ladies'. Please do go on", I say standing up and summoning all my coordination not to trip or do something stupid. Once in the bathroom I put my forehead against the cool glass of the mirror and exhale, alleviated. I am exhausted and actually exhilarated. Flashes of last night have been parading insistingly in my mind, and behind the shut door of this bathroom, I can relish in them and allow my face to grin widely, unabashedly, and my repressed laughter comes out in chortles.
Not that I had discussed this with anyone before, still haven't of course, but I used to believe there was an unwritten protocol to be followed when getting intimate with someone else. A tacit required delay in between the steps intended to provide an in crescendo that warranted, so to speak, the formality and seriousness of the relationship. That some things (and I blush just to remember some in particular) are simply not done in a first time, especially just hours after a first kiss and especially when they're one's first times in such matters at all.
Well, this was all overrun last night. I just didn't know, I had no idea, I could experience so much pleasure. It was... explosive. My old self blew off in pieces and joined itself back with a similar look but oh so different feel.
An not a smaller surprise was to find out that I was capable of giving so much pleasure, either. To let and be let into one's deepest vulnerability, that's what it's about. Every word that comes to mind, of awe and amazement, falls short to describe how I feel.
I don't want Mel and John to think there's something wrong with me so I splash cold water over my eyes, pat myself dry and go back to the table. Once there I smile brightly at them hoping I don't seem deranged.
-"We're setting some extra provisions per Mr. Thornton's request", Melanie says smiling knowingly. Oh good, someone's spilled the beans. John's lips twitch in a sheepish grin.
-"If you think they're necessary, Melanie, I trust you", I try to instill some confidence in my words.
Lunch drags forward. Against my better judgment I want to go to bed, or to kiss John madly, or tell Melanie I'm alright, but I school myself to pay attention instead.
Once the meal is over and the agreement signed, Melanie informs that she must be somewhere else (I doubt so but I give her points for being discreet), and John and I get off the restaurant together.
-"You're exhausted", he smiles tenderly and his right index grazes lightly my cheek, "go home and rest. I'll call you, or better yet, you call me when you feel like."
-"You must be pretty tired yourself too, don't you?" I'm just blabbering. I only want to get some sleep.
-"Don't worry about me." he shakes his head and shrugs, all selflessness charm. "I managed not to sign the menu, didn't I?" and I giggle at this unexpected piece of humor. "Just let's make sure you have my number".
Oh, right. I've never called him, I... well, this is strange. We exchange numbers and he turns to hail a cab for me, but I squeeze his arm lightly so he doesn't.
I just need a moment outside the whirlwind we've been caught into, just a moment of not being coming or going or anything. Just a moment to say goodbye, see you later, I love you.
We just hold each other and I savour this public intimacy; then I get into a taxi and get home, and for the first time in my life I just fall face first on my bed and sleep in my clothes, utterly and hopelessly intoxicated with love, lust and happiness.