The lights flashed and the girl relaxed her position, sliding down to drape herself over the raised end of the couch. Again, the lights flashed, momentarily blinding her. But, even sightless, she moved flawlessly to dangle a leg over the side of the couch and stroking her hands up and down it. It felt good to sit. Her legs ached from holding the more difficult positions and the five inch heels were killing her feet. She must have been here for at least three hours already and her stomach told her it was well passed time to eat. For the hundredth time, Magnolia wondered why she had decided to make her living as a pin-up model. On planet Redos one of the oldest and most developed space states, women had almost equal job opportunities with men and there was plenty of call for people with her level of intelligence. With her exam scores she could have been hired by any technological firm on the planet.
That she had instead opted for one of the lowest paying, not to mention most sexist, jobs had never ceased to amaze everyone who knew of her decision, including herself. But, really, there was a very simple explanation. Having been labeled as gawky, awkward, and even downright unattractive for most of her teenage years, she was unable to resist the lure of being magically made elegant and gorgeous. Every time she put on her flashy lingerie, painted her face, and stepped into the spotlight, she felt like she was somehow sticking it to all the people from high school who had put her down. She liked to imagine they had seen her pictures on the internet or in one of the adult fashion magazines and regretted that they hadn't been friends with someone that gorgeous or let her be popular, but she would never know if that was true or not. A sudden thought made her stomach knot much more fiercely than the hunger, so that she almost lost her balance and tumbled off the couch. Soon, if she wished, she could know. Last month, she had received a TEM transmission to the data bank in her apartment, the first one ever not from a potential employer or a concerned relative. It was an invitation to her ten year high school reunion and her first instinct was to delete it immediately. The last thing she wanted was to have to deal with those bastards again. However, it cost nothing to RSVP so why not? She was under no obligation to actually go and the worst thing that could happen was that who ever was hosting the party would waste money on food and a place setting for her. Depending on who said host was, that could actually be a good thing.
It had taken a couple days to realize that going to the reunion would not be like going back to high school. She was a model now and, if she went, she could make sure everyone knew it, dress in her most stylish clothes, go wild with her hair and make-up. It all depended on which of her peers had been selected to host. Someone's house was their turf, giving them a home court advantage, if you would. So she was much less likely to have a productive or enjoyable time if the party was at the home of someone hostile to her. If Lotus had been picked, there was no way she was going. The decision from the education management committee was due any day now and, every time she returned home, Magnolia would glance at the transmission receiver on the wall to see if the light indicating she had gotten something was flashing. This time, when she finally staggered home, after completing the fourth hour of her shoot, it was. She poured herself a glass of hard cherry vodka to dull the potential pain before opening it. Then, stared in horror at the name, typed in beautiful red curly-cue font.
Stephanotis. This was the one thing she had not planned on. The only thing worse than having the reunion at the home of an enemy was having it at the home of a friend, or, in this case, a former friend. While she wouldn't exactly call him an enemy now, he was, at the least, an anti-friend. Really, it shouldn't have surprised her. His family was one of the wealthiest on Redos and, though he had kept this a close secret from most of his peers, it was highly probably that the education management committee would know about it and, thus, consider his family's ancestral lands the ideal location for the party. Both awkward and outcast by the other students, he and Magnolia had bonded together and presented a united front against the world. They discovered that they were both more intelligent and grittier than the other children. Whether challenging each other with elaborate riddles and puzzles or getting caked with dirt and mud as they searched the remote corners of Stephanotis's land for rare and especially disgusting bugs to sneak into each other's clothes and food, they had been a perfect match. Too bad it hadn't lasted. As they grew up, the expectations of society, their different economic status, and...other things, had come between them. They had not parted on speaking terms.
And that was how it should remain. Well, there was no obligation to go anyway. She sighed. So that was that. She would just put it all out of her mind and never have to face her past. But curiosity tormented her. What was Stephanotis like now? What did he look like? How did he live? Was he happy? Did he miss her? Her mind asked the last question in the faintest of whispers. While she knew answering this particular question would be impossible, if she went to the reunion, she could probably get some idea about the others. She didn't even need to compromise her pride. She could keep a low profile and, with all the people at the reunion, how was he even to know she had shown up? She imagined him wanting to see her again, to apologize, waiting, hoping, and being bitterly disappointed. She found the image pleasing. But she would never know, that is unless she was spying from around the corner...then she might catch some little tip off.
Once Magnolia had decided she would go, purely to satisfy her own masochistic curiosity, she took a great deal of thought for her appearance. She could have completely blown them all away with her professional model appearance, but that would ultimately have held no sweetness for her. That would have been sinking to the level of those she had always despised. Besides, if, perish the thought, Stephanotis did see her, she didn't want him to think she was trying to impress him of make it look like she had come into money or something. She elected to go without makeup and leave her hair down with just a few light curls. Her clothes were neat and trim but not particularly noteworthy: a blue lacy knit top, a ruffled cotton skirt that reached just past the knees, and buckled black dress flats. Only underneath, where she was quite certain no one would see, she let herself choose freely. Her underwear was her fanciest pin-up bra and thong, soft blue edged with lace and sewn with tiny matching seed pearls and crystals. Carrying this secret next to her skin would help make her strong in the face of whatever was to come.
When she arrived at the house on the day of the reunion, it was so crowded that she could barely push her way through the front door. Everyone was running about frantically, trooping up and down the stairs. Magnolia reached out and snagged a passing girl who she didn’t recognize at all. “What’s going on here?” she asked.
Thankfully, the girl didn’t seem to recognize her either. “It’s a contest to count the number of mirrors in the house. The first one to report the correct number gets a prize.” Magnolia let go of the girl’s arm and smiled to herself as her informant dashed off into the crowd. This was perfect. It meant the house was thrown open and fully available for snooping. She would join in this game and she might win but she wouldn’t count on it. Instead, it was an ideal cover for her private investigations. The general flow of the crowd was towards the upper deck--there were a lot of mirrors up there--so she went along with them. This upper deck was a large octagonal tower with all eight walls made of glass so that one could have a fine view of the grounds, the forests and parks, reaching all the way back to the rock crag and the waterfall cleft. Absently, she wondered if there was still a bunch of leaves and flowers, now long dried and rattling in the wind, tied to a tree limb out over the waterfall. She had learned in school that was an ancient ritual the natives of Planet Redos used to petition the Gods to grant wishes, especially on important occasions like rites of passage.
There were no individual rooms in the upper deck, though there were a few dividing walls here and there and a small wash room closed off behind a screen. The door on the medicine cabinet was made of three pieces of glass hinged together and a heated argument was in progress about whether this counted as three mirrors or one. There was another divider semi-enclosing the control panel and viewing screen for the watch towers on the estate. Through this, you could connect to cameras mounted in small towers around the grounds and see what the lenses were picking up. This place was also swarming with people and Magnolia felt annoyed. She would have liked to look in on the pterodactyl roosting area, so called because, although they bore no genetic relation to the ancient Earth species, they were also beaked flying reptiles.
A new, at least in the last ten years, electronic foot bath had been installed by the viewing chair and many people were enthusiastically admiring it. Magnolia hardly spared it a glance. In the years since graduation, her exposure to luxury she could never afford had glutted to the point of utter boredom. As a pin-up model, she owned trunks filled with the best lingerie, but had very few outside clothes to speak of. She gave herself the best spa treatments money could buy to keep her nails, hair, and skin in top form, but sometimes didn’t have enough left over for a meal. She lived in a tiny studio apartment and slept on an old mattress on the floor, while posing on sets with ankle deep carpet and silk drapes, leather upholstery and dark carved wood. With no time to spare for gawkers, she elbowed people out of the way until she could reach the mini kitchen unit next to the observation panel. Thankfully, the pink lemonade dispenser on the cooler still worked and she poured herself a glass. This was getting old fast. Best to do what she had come to do and then leave. A quick glance told her that trying to fight her way back down the stairs would be next to impossible. Far better just to take the elevator that went straight to the main floor and work her way back up. It was really a shame she hadn't gotten to check on the pterodactyls. She had always loved them and this was pretty much the only place you could see them live, other than a zoo. She wondered if the nest on top of the rock outcropping was still there.
When they were thirteen, she and Stephanotis had wanted a pet pterodactyl more than anything and, to this end, had made plans to steal an egg from the nest. “How much farther is it?” gasped Magnolia, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “It feels like we've been hiking for hours.” For exertion in the heat like this, it was necessary to wear a respirator, the air on Redos being thinner than earth air, and Magnolia hated the close humid feeling of the mask on her face, the clunky tube that trailed down to her belt, threatening to catch on everything. Stephanotis looked smug in his deluxe respirator, the newest model, sleek and discrete, with a special humidity controlled breathing chamber, the kind Magnolia's family would never be able to afford.
“I don't know for sure. I've never climbed all the way up to the nest before. It is brutally hot though. Give me some water.” Magnolia unhooked the canteen that was hanging at her hip. But, instead of passing it to Stephanotis, she took a long drink first, briefly lifting the respirator from her face. “You ass,” he cried, snatching the canteen. “It was your idea to come up here in the middle of the day anyway.”
“We need to go while the mother pterodactyl is out hunting. She floats on the warm air currents so the heat of the day is the best time,” said Magnolia primly as she accepted the canteen back. “You should know that and it's not my fault that your air car sucks and is incapable of landing further up on the cliffs.” In addition to the canteen, Magnolia also carried a small pack of food and Stephanotis had a padded bag of the kind normally used for transporting electronic devices, to put their prize in.
“I do know that, and don't crap on my car.”
“Why would I crap on your car when it's easier and more convenient just to go behind a tree?” He punched her in the arm for that and she was about to retaliate when she realized that would waste energy they needed for the climb, so she settled for a muttered insult. The higher they went the harder it became and the more they needed their respirators. The ground became steeper and increasingly rocky, and strong winds blew against them as well. Finally, they reached a sheer cliff face that rose slightly above their heads and thrust out from the main mass of rock with the nest balanced on its outward edge.
“Now, how are we supposed to get up there,” growled Magnolia.
“I'll just have to lift you up. Then you can grab the edge of the rock and pull yourself the rest of the way.” Stephanotis didn't seem concerned about this new curve ball in the slightest.
“Sure, make me do all the work.”
“Do you want to lift me?” Magnolia didn't even bother justifying that with a response as she took off the pack and canteen. He put his hands around her waist and squatted down to give himself more leverage. Apparently, she was harder to lift than he had anticipated and she felt herself starting to slip, his fingers digging painfully into her sides and stomach. She grabbed for the ledge and managed to grip the lip of rock, her arms aching as she tried to drag herself up. Stephanotis gave her a push from below and she managed to clamber up, skinning her arms in the process.
“The bag,” she yelled down.
“What?”
“The bag, you idiot. Throw me the bag. I need something to put the egg in.” Rolling his eyes at her, Stephanotis nevertheless obliged by tossing up the bag. Magnolia put it over her shoulder and crept out along the ledge. Four oblong grayish brown eggs rested in a depression at the end of the rock. Mesmerized, Magnolia reached out to touch one, feeling her fingers grazed its cool leathery shell. She was about to scoop up the nearest egg when a dark shadow fell across the rocks. The mother pterodactyl had returned sooner than they had anticipated and now, seeing an intruder in her nest, she swooped down with beak and claws open. In a panic, Magnolia swung at the creature with the padded bag. Once, twice, she struck it on the head or wing, causing it to turn aside. But then the bag snagged on its claws and was torn from her grasp as the pterodactyl swooped again. Magnolia crouched on the ground, shielding her head with her heads, imagining she could already feel the talons.
The reptile-bird screamed and swerved aside just in time. As Magnolia raised her head in surprise, Stephanotis yelled, “Run.” She turned around and saw him holding another rock ready to throw. Half crawling, half running, she made her way back along the ledge and then stopped. Looking down, she couldn't quite bring herself to jump. The ground seemed very far away. Stephanotis threw the rock. “Down. Now,” he commanded. “I can't hold it off forever. I'll help you.” Ducking as the pterodactyl swooped again, Magnolia sat on the edge of the rock ledge, closed her eyes, and pushed herself into space. She hit the ground hard with her feet and would have pitched forward but Stephanotis's shoulder and chest came against her to hold her up and his arms went around her to steady her. She clung there a moment, coping with her dizziness while the world rocked around her. Fortunately, the mother pterodactyl seemed satisfied that the intruder had vacated the nest rock and settled on her eggs with no further aggression. Once Magnolia had gotten her breath back and stopped shaking quite so hard, Stephanotis helped her to stagger back down the cliff face. They were both bruised and battered by the rough climb when they finally reached the air car at the base of the rocks. But it was not until several days later that Magnolia realized she had suffered an emotional injury far deeper than her physical ones, one that still haunted her to this day, she thought grimly as she came out of the elevator at the base of the house.
The fastest way back to the front door was by cutting across the courtyard filled with elaborate topiaries and flower beds arranged so that the different color blooms made patterns. Paved stone walkways ran between arbors and gazebos, converging on a sunken area in the center, filled with benches and a goldfish pond. The garden was also quite crowded, not so crowded that it would be difficult to move, but certainly more so that she liked and enough to make navigating it a pain. Magnolia set out at the fastest walk she could manage--jogging or running would draw far too much attention--weaving around people as best she could. So concentrated was she on trying not to bump into anyone that she paid no attention to where she was putting her feet and, reaching the top of the steps down to the pool, suddenly stepped off into empty space. She fell through the air, tumbling down the stone steps and skidding to a stop on the pavement. She heard a faint rustling filling the air around her as she struggled to rise. It might have been the wind in the leaves but Magnolia imagined it was delicate laughter and felt her face grow hot with anger and embarrassment. It was just like her years at school, where she had frequently wound up serving as a source of fun and amusement for others at her own expense. Attempting to ignore this perceived rudeness, she surveyed the damage. Fortunately, her clothing had not gotten torn or dirty, but her palm and knee on which she had landed had been skinned. The pours were all packed with dirt and she could see blood welling from under it. She would have to stop and clean up at the first bathroom she saw. Hopefully, she wouldn’t get an infection before that or accidentally smear blood on her white skirt. Regardless, she wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.
She quickly skirted the pool and had almost reached the stairs on the far side when a high, sickeningly sweet, voice called out, “Well, if it isn’t Magnolia.” Turning sharply, Magnolia saw her old enemy, Lotus, sitting on the closest bench. Lotus was named for her beautiful wide eyes which, together with delicate white gold hair (Magnolia secretly suspected it was dyed) made her seem utterly fragile and innocent, incapable of any real wrongdoing and Lotus had always used this perception to her advantage, but Magnolia knew Lotus was spiteful. As a young child, she would invite girls (Magnolia) to play with her and her friends on condition that they play the servant or the pet, which always involved them being kicked, ordered around, pinched, yanked by the hair, or any combination of the above. When she got older, she would flirt with boys and frequently not just because she liked them. Even at that age, she was loose and would flirt with anyone and everyone who was even remotely popular, usually the person most likely to make her friends or a girl watching her envious or heart-broken. Magnolia had never endured this particular torture. Lotus wasn't quite that loose. But she had had seen it done to many other girls and had to endure the generic pain of the fact that Lotus could do it at all and she couldn't.
But Lotus's worst offense in Magnolia's eyes was that, during her very early schooling days, Lotus has shoved her into a trench partially filled with gravel during break. It was an unfortunate by product of the game they were playing and many kids feel into the ditch without serious injury. But, when Magnolia lifted her skirt to see if she needed to wash herself off, she found that, by sheer bad luck, she had been badly cut and trails of blood were running down her legs. Immediately, she had gone to wash her legs and put disinfectant on them. But, later, in the class room, she had confronted Lotus and, as calmly as possible, tried to get an apology from her. She didn't need an apology for the pushing but only from the unforeseen injury. Instead, Lotus primly told her she was a liar. Of course, she hadn't had blood running down her legs. It was just a story she was making up to get sympathy. Since Magnolia had already washed her legs she had no proof and everyone believed Lotus—because everyone loved her. That day, Magnolia swore off her friendship with Lotus, such as it was, but, since the rest of the girls loved Lotus, this meant giving up pretty much all her other friendships as well.
The best thing to do in the present situation was to maintain a dignified silence, which Magnolia had had a lot of practice at doing. “Well, are you okay?” Louts asked, opening her big eyes even wider. So, a dignified silence would not be permitted.
“Judge for yourself.” Magnolia pulled up her skirt to show her knee. “Any blood running down my leg?”
Lotus didn't seem to get the reference. “You should clean that up,” she said in her sweet, piping voice. “It could get infected.
“What do you want, Lotus?” asked Magnolia, her guard up.
“I'm just saying hi.”
“But we're not on 'saying hi' terms. The last time we spoke you made fun of my acne and purposely kissed your boyfriend in front of me to hurt me because you knew I couldn't get a date.”
Lotus looked shocked. “But that was a long time ago,” she objected.
“Are you saying you regret doing it?”
“I'm a different person. I would never do something like that now.”
“But are you sorry you did it then?” Magnolia prompted.
“I'm trying to be nice and you're the one who's carrying a grudge,”said Lotus, sounding every bit as superior as she used to.
“That's right. Don't let her harass you like that,” said the girl sitting next to Lotus. Magnolia couldn't remember her name but she did remember being assigned a locker next to her one year. The girl would always open her locker door as wide as possible to prevent Magnolia from getting into hers. If Magnolia tried to move the door back to create some space, the girl slammed it as hard as she could, almost catching Magnolia's fingers any number of times. Once, when she was kneeling down to pick up something on the floor of her locker, the girl slammed the door again and the corner hit her hard on the side of her head. Fortunately, Magnolia soon came up with the idea of resting one of her text books against the base of her locker, near the door hinge, so that every time the girl tried to slam the door, it would hit the book and bounce back at her. After this happened a few times, she gave it up and left Magnolia in peace.
Magnolia faced them both steadily. “I'm not trying to harass you or carry a grudge,” she said. “But it sounds to me like you're saying you've grown out of that stuff but you have fond memories of it and wouldn't want to deprive your younger self of her fun.”
“What’s your point?”
“That what you did was wrong. What you did hurt me. I don’t care if you won’t do it now. The fact that you hurt me in the past in not okay and I don’t want anything to do with someone who thinks it is.”
“Well, I’ve grown up but, obviously, you haven’t. You’re still the same antisocial defensive bitch you always were.”
“I’m the same self respecting person who won’t allow anyone to push me around.” She stalked off, making a rude gesture behind her back which caused Lotus and her friend to squeak like angry shrew-bats. Magnolia was very glad to escape from them back in to the cool dimness of the main house. Once inside, it required no effort for her to remember that Stephanotis’s bedroom was on the third floor of the left wing (going in). She was at the end of the hallway outside the worn brown door in no time. A new coat of varnish had been added but had been unable to obscure the heavy gouges in the wood, caused by childhood games where they had fenced with heavy-duty wire hangers, pretending to be space pirates. The hall was completely deserted, probably because there were no mirrors in it, which suited Magnolia very well. She put her hand to the door, opened it a crack, then quickly swung it open, slipped through, and shut it behind her.
The room was very dark, the blinds pulled down tightly over the windows. The book shelves by the windows were still there but the bed was gone and had been replaced by yet more bookshelves. The dry taste of dust was heavy in the air. Clearly, no one had been in here in ages. Even the books themselves were faded and yellowed, the tattered remains of childhood memories. Magnolia reached out absently and pulled out a magazine about the amazing animals native to Redos and the five nearest habitable planets, flipping through it without really glancing at anything inside. Her mind drifted, dulled by the colorful photos flicking past the edge of her vision in a rainbow blur. It was like a movie reel taking her back into the past.
At seventeen years of age, Magnolia and Stephanotis no longer saw each other as often as they used to. This was largely because, in high school, Stephanotis had found a number of other guys who were un-popular enough to accept him and he spent a great deal of time with these new friends. Magnolia was less than pleased by this fact and they often fought bitterly about it. Though there were other reasons, she needed none beyond the fact that she had not formed a similar bond with her own gender. Girls were still a frustration and an aggravation to her, with whom she had nothing whatsoever in common, and even the most insignificant things reminded her of this. Like now, when she and Stephanotis were swimming in the waterfall pool on one of their now all too rare days together and there wasn't another girl for miles. Instead of enjoying herself, she was thinking about, of all things, bathing suits. All the other girls were proudly showing off and describing their new swim suits of skin tight metallic fabric (the adult Magnolia owned six of them) whereas she was more than content to wear an old pair of shorts and a T-shirt just like Stephanotis was doing. She also keenly felt her deep sadness that soon her schooling would be over and she would have to go out into the world, leaving everything behind. Though her test scores were good enough for her to make it in a major city or even travel to another planet, this was no comfort. She had no longing for travel or adventures in far away places, especially because she highly doubted her nonexistent ability to make friends would fare any better in another location.
“So, what are you planning to do when our schooling ends?” she asked Stephanotis as they lay on their stomachs on the rocks next to the waterfall.
He shrugged. “Not sure. I never really thought much about it.” Magnolia made a face. Stephanotis's wealth meant that it wasn't imperative for him to have a 'future' immediately out of school or for many years after for that matter and she couldn't help being just a bit resentful about that. “My parents will probably take me on a tour,” he went on. “Travel to different planets and stuff.” He sounded terribly unenthusiastic. “And they'll show me different jobs to try, to get me interested in them, like offering to fund me buying up or starting a construction company, a space passenger transport company, or a retail business. I guess, if I had to choose, I'd go for the space transport. What about you?”
Magnolia threw a rock into the water in frustration. “How should I know?” she muttered bitterly. “I highly doubt I'll be able to stay here. I'll have to go a bigger city where there are real employment opportunities.”
“You'll do well. With your exam scores, you could have any job you want.”
“But I don't want any of those jobs. I want to stay out here in the country. Maybe start an innovative agricultural collective or something. But how likely is that?”
“You could always wish for it.” Stephanotis gestured to a tree bending out over the pool. “Remember? Like we read about in our history class.”
Magnolia did remember and grinned at him for the first time that day. “Yea, leaving school and everything is like coming of age for us.”
“Remember,” Stephanotis called after her as she climbed up into the tree, “You have to wish for what you truly want, or it'll rebound on you.”
Magnolia edged out along the branch. The water swirled under her like black glass. She held the bunch of flowers and wondered what to ask for. Should she do as they had discussed and wish for a good job? Maybe a Remora puppy—the type of pet she gravitated to after the pterodactyl incident but never gotten either? Or she could wish to make friends easier or even understand how other girls' brains worked. Any of these, even the last, would be a fairly safe wish, one that wouldn't break her if she didn't get it. But then she remembered what Stephanotis had said. The waterfall pounded behind her and she felt the branch shake, deep, barely perceptible. Spray drifted over her in a cold mist. Taking a deep breath, she clutched the bouquet and whispered her true heart's desire into the fragrant petals.
“What did you wish for?” he asked as she slid back down the tree trunk. Magnolia raised her eyes to his. His still damp hair looked black in the dim light as it plastered in streaks across his face.
“I wished for a kiss,” she said almost defiantly. Despite the noise of the waterfall, they spoke in whispers. When she finished, she left her lips slightly parted but allowed them to remain slack and did not pucker.
Stephanotis snorted derisively. “But that’s easy to get,” he said. “Just go spend an evening at Spiky Cactus Club. I mean, you may not be popular but, if I can do it, so can you. There’s no reason to waste a wish on that.”
She let her eyes fall. “I didn’t wish for just any kiss. I wanted a special kiss.”
“What? In a moonlit rose garden from a handsome ace pilot like Basil?”
Magnolia’s head snapped back up. Her eyes were daggers again. “No. I wished for a kiss from you.”
Even over the thunder of the waterfall, she could hear the silence as if the world was holding its breath. Then, Stephanotis cracked a wry smile. “And if I say no, will you curse me and scratch my face like that time when you wanted to play cards and I went out drinking instead.”
“I…I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” In the distance, one of the pterodactyls screamed.
“We should get back. It’s getting late.” He turned away and headed for the air car.
When he had asked if she wanted to come by next week, she had screamed, “I never want to see you again, you bastard.” And she never had. Magnolia raised her blind eyes from the magazine. They ached dully with the memory of tears long milked dry. This crumbling dust heap was no good to her now. Not even bothering to replace the magazine, she left it on the floor and got to her feet. Now things got tricky. Soon, she accosted another girl in the stairwell. This one looked vaguely familiar. Possibly her name was Lily, but that was unimportant. “Where are our hosts?” Magnolia asked. Lily? looked at her blankly. “I want to thank them for the wonderful party.”
This seemed to jog her memory. “The lord and lady are on the grand balcony in the center of the house.”
“And?” Magnolia tried not to sound too eager.
“The young master is also receiving in his chamber.” Magnolia bit back the denial that leaped to her tongue at this statement but feared it would show in her expression anyways. “It’s up on the fifth floor in this wing. Actually, I was supposed to be there already.” Lily? turned and dashed off up the stairs. Just like high school Magnolia thought, people always too busy to give her the time of day. But, at least, she had gotten the information she wanted. Still, why the new room? Back in the day, this wing hadn’t even had a fifth floor. Despite this fact, she had no trouble finding the room she wanted because, this time, there was a huge crowd, blocking the door, spilling out into the hallway. She could hear them in the stairwell, even three floors down. Stephanotis was obviously far more popular than he had been during their teenage years. Either he had changed radically or it was just that the carefully guarded secret of his wealth had finally leaked. Even if they didn't know before, they certainly knew now.
It took almost ten minutes for her to squeeze through the bottleneck at the door. Inside, the room was open and spacious, or would have been but for the crowds. It had a high ceiling but not vaulted, with a small chandelier in the center, ropes of crystal hanging down like melting ice. The carpet was the deep soft kind in a sort of speckled navy and high windows filled almost all the walls, flooding the room with light. Despite this, there was a fire blazing in the grate directly across from the door. On the left side was the bed, made up to match the carpet. On the right was a table, piled high with presents. And beside the table was Stephanotis, looking at his very best, dressed in a finely tailored charcoal suit with a crisp white shirt and a stripped tie. He was freshly shaved and his hair had been slicked down with water, plastered across his forehead and behind his ear, then shaped to the back of his neck, with the ends curling up slightly. He hadn’t changed very much, other than the uncharacteristic neatness of his appearance. Though there was some change, not immediately obvious. He seemed more confident in his skin in a subtle way. He relaxed into his formal clothing as if it was one of his old T-shirts. But there was something else as well, a new edge of grimness or hardness. His mischief had acquired a shade of malice, and rebellion. Something about the look in his eyes, the line in his jaw, told her this.
Carefully, Magnolia drew closer to observe what was going on. He was accepting gifts from everyone, thanking them and putting the boxes on the table with perfect form and, apparently, all his admirers were so dazzled by this that they were completely unaware of the undercurrent of impatience and irritation in his actions. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but the room was very crowded so he might never look in her direction and, even if he did, there was no guarantee that he would recognize her, especially if he didn’t look too closely. But, almost as soon as she was close enough to be able to hear him over the din in the room, he looked straight at her and his eyes met hers with instant recognition, followed by a great surge of joy across his whole face. “Magnolia,” he cried, stepping forward, his hands held out. Magnolia was completely paralyzed with shock. She hadn’t expected him to know her, let alone be pleased to see her. This was completely outside any contingency she had planned for. Just before he reached her, she managed to, at least temporarily convince herself it was real and snap out of her shock so that she could throw herself forward into the arms he held open for her. The next thing she knew, she was being lifted into the air and whirled around and around, her feet knocking painfully against other people’s legs in the crowded room.
As this was happening, he leaned in close so that she could feel his breath on her ear. “I believe I owe you a wish,” he whispered and she felt his lips brush against hers. It was like a blade of white light exploding behind her skull. Everything had turned inside out and backwards. It would have been shocking enough if he had done this in private, but to do it here in front of others, was utterly incomprehensible. And, indeed, she heard some sharp, scandalized gasps around her. She barely felt her feet touch the ground. But, gradually, the dizziness, both physical and emotional, receded and she could see again. Stephanotis was grinning wildly at her. His hand had remained on her shoulder, which was good because she was not sure she could have stood on her own. “Magnolia, it’s so good to see you,” he laughed.
“Good to see you too,” she gasped, feeling as if she had been dropped flat on her back.
He glanced around furtively, almost like a hunted animal. “I gotta get out of here,” he whispered to her. But, as soon as he took one step, five more people came crowding close, holding out presents. “No, no,” he said gently, waving them away. “Enough for now. Your gifts will keep. I must take this old friend to get some refreshments.”
“But there’s cookies and pate on the gift table,” objected one of the girls, squeaking almost like a mouse. Stephanotis pretended he hadn’t heard and resolutely led Magnolia to the door. Seeing he was determined, the crowds fell back but she could see some of them preparing to follow him. Stephanotis seemed to have noticed this too for, as soon as they were out in the hallway, he opened a door that looked like it would lead to a closet, dragged her inside, and pulled the door shut behind them. Inside was a small box, held steady over a shaft, rather like a dumbwaiter and it was dark and horribly cramped inside not having been designed with people in mind and Magnolia vaguely wondered if there would be sufficient oxygen cycling through the shaft. There was certainly so space for a respirator in here. They were both sitting with their backs against the walls, bent forward under the low ceiling so that their chests were against their knees and their knees were touching and their foreheads almost were as well. In these close quarters, she could clearly smell his old sweaty body odor under the expensive cologne he was now wearing to go with his fine suit.
“What was that all about?” asked Magnolia, wondering how many more shocks she would have to endure in the next few minutes.
“Keep your voice down,” he hissed. “The could easily hear us. The problem is that everyone’s going gaga over my wealth.”
“Well, you know, it is pretty incredible to those of us who don’t live with it everyday,” she said dryly.
“We haven’t spoken in years and you’re already mocking me again?” It was completely pitch dark and she could see nothing at all. But she could feel the inside of his palm, hot, smooth, and slightly damp, as he took her cheek and chin in his his hand.
“That's another thing,” she went on. “What's with all the touching?” The furtive whispers in which they spoke, transformed her sarcastic tone into something almost sensual.
“What? Don't you like it?” He gave the skin on the side of her face a cheeky pinch.
“It’s quite a change from you not giving me the time of day in that respect.”
“I didn’t understand before what a valuable thing I had in you, someone who didn’t care about all the wealth and would just be honest with me.”
“Damn straight. I always have been. That used to be one of the things you didn’t like about me.”
“I didn’t realize what the alternative was. All these people are so fake. I’m just a rack to hang my expensive suits on or a waiter to offer up the gourmet food. Magnolia, Magnolia, I've missed you so much.” His lips were fumbling along the lines of her jaw, feeling for her mouth. She held back a moment more, years of wariness deeply ingrained. She felt no pity, not for him at least, to bemoan the fortune she could never have and to expect comfort from the one whose heart he had broken. But she did feel pity...for herself, for all the years she had been frustrated and denied. And now she was being denied again, by no one but herself. At that though, there came a sense, not of greater trust, but of yielding. She would give her body the joy it hungered for and, if he was false, he was false but, at least, she would have taken what she wanted. And so, slowly, she parted her lips and accepted him into her mouth as a gift from herself to herself. When they broke apart for air, her lips were sore and tingling where he had bitten or bruised them with the force of his push against her.
“Magnolia, would you have sex with me?” he asked, his whisper hoarse, almost cracking with the strain.
Magnolia was shocked by the audacity of the suggestion. They hadn't so much as spoken to one another in years. But she had decided to deny herself nothing. “Yes, I will allow it,” she said with a formal reserve she hoped would give him pause but not completely deter him. In the dark, she could not see his expression but she heard a sharp intake of breath that made her own heart contract.
“But where can we go,” he mused aloud to himself, “where these damn followers won’t keep bothering us.”
“Can’t we just wait until the party’s over and they leave?”
“No, no. I will not wait a moment longer than I have to. Besides, they probably won’t be gone until sunrise tomorrow, if then. Oh, I know.” His hand scraped against the wood in the dark as he felt for the catch to open the door. “Just follow me.” He pushed the door open and they struggled to extract themselves from the cramped space as quickly and quietly as they could, going down the hallway and through a small door into a dark narrow stairwell, obviously designed for servants. A rail for robots to run on had been bolted over one side of the stairs. Here, they descended three flights and stepped out into a small room, with a couple of electrically heated tables against one wall and refrigerator against the other. The room beyond was huge and dark, the thick velvet drapes pulled across the high windows and the only light the tiny bits that squeezed in around the edges. From the ceiling hung a chandelier like a giant icicle, swathed in layers of dust stained gauze. Below, the shining surface of the table board ran the length of the room. It was in the overblown “antique” style favored by the very rich, with legs carved like pegasi or griffins and the edges done in high relief of vines, flowers, fruits, insects, and small birds. The chairs were similarly ornamented, with lion paws for feet and upholstered on back and seat with red velvet to match the drapes. The ceiling was one of those watery murals of clouds and cherubs, which had always irritated her, and she’d had to pose under more than a few in her day.
“Grand dining room?” she asked, as he began moving quickly around the table to reach a door on the far side.
He nodded and rolled his eyes, gesturing to a lattice-work cabinet on one side, completely stuffed with elaborate white and blue porcelain. “They won’t be opening it up tonight though. Too many people to seat them all. They’ll probably have a barbecue and buffet out on the terrace.”
“Oh, good idea,” said Magnolia, though she didn't much like the thought of lying back on the table with her legs in the air, like she was the main course at dinner.
“No, I'm not suggesting we do it here.” He gave her the look she remembered well, which implied he was far more intelligent than she. “I have a more secure and comfortable place in mind. Come on.” He gave her hand a tug as she paused to stare around the room in awe.
“Rude and impatient as ever,” Magnolia scolded as she followed him through more halls and up more stairs. At some point, they crossed into another wing and finally came to a stop outside a pair of double doors, carved with cherubs and clouds and set with panes of colored glass deliberately warped and bubbled to opacity. Without sparing them a glance, Stephanotis threw open the doors on the grandest bedroom Magnolia had ever seen. The head and foot boards of the bed were carved with a pattern like a stylized sun burst or flower, the pale wood accented with gold paint in select places that caught the reflections as you moved and made the carving appear to be shining in the light. The covering on the bed was an extremely heavy quilted comforter of crisp, pale, blue and peach satin, accented with gold thread, and heavy curtains of the same, rendered this room as dark as the dining room.
“But this is the master bedroom,” said Magnolia in a whisper, hesitantly touching a corner of the coverlet. Although she had posed on a cloth strikingly similar to this, it had been a synthetic imitation that had left her with a rash from rolling around on its stiff fibers. Also, it had been completely and entirely for show. People actually slept in this bed every night. She no longer envied what she could not have but, with it at her very finger tips, she allowed herself to feel slightly wistful.
“Of course it's the master bedroom,” said Stephanotis impatiently, almost dismissively. The finery made no impact on him. “No one would dare to bother us here.”
“But we shouldn't...” Part of her hated the thought of seeing the exquisite counterpane crumpled, wrinkled, and stained by sex.
“Magnolia, what happened to you being a rebel, not caring what other people think. That's why I need you.”
“It isn't that,” she began, then caught herself. It was useless to try to find the right words. Besides, when she saw his wide pleading eyes and heard the desperation in his voice as he whispered “That's why I need you,” she wanted nothing more than to answer that plea. Though she had grown stronger, his hold on her was still tight. She ran to him and put her arms around his neck. One coverlet, no matter how rich, was a small loss. “I'm not going to let you down,” she whispered fiercely. “But why, Stephanotis, why of all people, do you need me?”
“Because I can't stand this. No one else is real to me. You've never given a crap what anyone else thinks. You're like a rebel muse or something. I need you to inspire me to move outside the box I've been born into. We used to raise so much hell.”
Magnolia laughed. “That we did,” she smiled.
“I need you to remind me what I'm capable of.”
“You mean something as scandalous as having sex in the master bedroom when you're supposed to be presiding at a party?”
“Exactly,” he grinned, then leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips parted and the kiss was deep and hungry. She felt him press her and she sank back on to the bed. His hands grabbed at her clumsily and it was delightful. This is how things should have been when they were teenagers, exploring, discovering each other. At least, it still seemed to be that way for Stephanotis. But Magnolia had lost any sense of mystery long ago. In her sadness and loneliness in the city (and in an effort to prove the high school stereotypes of her wrong) she had used sex almost like a drug, to numb herself to the world around her. In the circles she frequented for her modeling work this was easy to do. It had dulled her pain but, she now learned, dulled her response as well, and she deeply regretted it. His breath was almost panting just from feeling her outermost contours and she could have had the same experience. If only things could have been different. If only Stephanotis had been more accommodating, she reminded herself grimly, and felt an urge to scratch at him in anger. But either she misjudged his tolerance level or her own force because he interpreted the rake of her nails as merely an extra intense caress and responded accordingly. Eventually, they broke apart for breath and, instantly, all was awkwardness again. Magnolia was bitter as well as aroused and Stephanotis cast his eyes about restlessly in a desperate attempt to focus on something other than her.
“Are you ashamed of me?” Magnolia asked coldly.
“No, I...”
“Why wouldn't you kiss me that day by the waterfall?”
“I was afraid of your tempter.”
“But wouldn't you be making me more angry by refusing.”
“Oh, I knew you'd be angry, but I figured you'd be less upset than if I had raised your hopes and then disappointed you later, and I didn't want to feel your wrath.”
“And now?”
“Now, I'm tired of living in fear. I've seen what you become if you do.”
“What do you become?”
“Them.” He jerked his thumb at the door to indicate the empty headed party goers.
“A convincing argument.” Magnolia shuddered.
“So, come on then, no more fear, have sex with me.” He tackled her clumsily and she tumbled backwards so her head hung down over the side of the bed. In this awkward position, Stephanotis half on top of her, she caught sight for the first time of a small bed tucked into a corner of the room.
“What’s that?” She pointed at it upside down. Stephanotis turned onto his elbow, obvious irritated.
“Oh, that’s for the servant.”
“Servant?” She might have known. With all the complex mechanized house cleaning and labor saving devices on the market, only the most extravagant and arrogant would pay a human to do what a machine could do far more economically and better. Having a servant sleep in your room to do your bidding at any hour was the ultimate example of decadence.
“Yea, we’ve had them from time to time.”
“What about now?”
“We have a couple. My mother’s personal maid sleeps there. Good servants are hard to find these days.” She restrained herself from dryly asking why this might be the case. “But who cares about the servants. They won’t be coming in here for a long time.”
She was about to make a snide comment about his wealthy myopia when they were suddenly disturbed by a loud commotion in the hallway outside. There was a clamor of many revelers laughing and talking. Someone staggered heavily against the door and it rattled in the frame.
“What do we do?” she mouthed silently at him. He held up his hand, straining to listen. There was a sound of someone scrabbling at the door, rattling the knob, then turning another handle directly beside it. Shrieks of laughter filled the air.
“Do you know what that was all about?” asked Magnolia as the noise died away.
Stephanotis looked incredibly pleased with himself. “You should know I'm not desperate. I didn't choose you because I didn't think I couldn't get anyone else.”
“I'm very flattered but what does that have to do with this?”
“Well,” he smirked, “this girl sent me an TEM transmission yesterday where she said she was completely mad about me. She said she would do anything I liked, let me put it anywhere I wanted. So, earlier today, I stashed her in the closet, and they just found her.” He grinned. In the shadows, his teeth looked huge and white.
Magnolia bristled with rage at how unfairly the girl had been treated and how ashamed she must feel. Then she became even angrier when she realized what this meant for her. “You were going to have sex with another girl, and kinky sex too,” she cried in a mix of offense and derision.
“Yea, I didn't know that you would come. Actually, I expected you wouldn't. We weren't exactly getting along well the last time we saw each other.”
She snarled. “That's a very mild way of putting it. More like I hated your guts.”
“So why did you come back?” he asked, taking her hand, and she did not resist.
“I wanted to torture myself by reminding myself of what I couldn't have.” He had released her hand and laid his against her thigh. She reached up and undid the neat buttons of her sweater. Stephanotis's eyes went wide as he caught sight of the delicate blue lace underneath. “Magnolia, that is so sexy,” he said, lifting his hand and letting it brush very lightly against one of the gauzy ruffles. “I never thought you would wear something like that.”
“It's my job,” she said wryly. “I'm a pin up model. People pay me to stick my ruffled butt at them.”
“You have matching underwear? Can I see?”
Magnolia nodded, taking her time to undo the fastening of her skirt and slid it off. But there was nothing of the strip tease in what she did. It was wooden, almost clumsy. She could have made quite a show of it. She knew every glance and arch and head toss to make it perfect. But, under Stephanotis's eyes, she felt as if she had regressed back into the gawky girl everyone had always taken her for and his obvious pleasure did nothing to reassure her. “It's my clothes and what they represent that he loves and not me,” she thought sourly and was very glad she had worn no make-up. One more thing not her he could have been delighted by.
“Magnolia, can you honestly tell me you didn't plan this?”
“Plan what?” She was nearly naked now, as bare as she had been when she posed on the false counterpane. But, this one was real. She could feel the silky smoothness on top of the crispness, that caressed her skin instead of chaffing it.
“Planned to seduce me, or at least someone. Why else would you dress like this?”
She flashed and offensive gesture at him. “I dressed like this to make me feel good about myself. The world doesn't revolve around you, you know.”
“Really?” He raised an eye brow at her. “You've often led me to believe otherwise.”
Magnolia dug him sharply with the toe of her shoe and felt an angry blush in her face. “I don't usually plan on having sex,” she said rather stiffly. “Pretty much the only time I ever have it is when I think it will give me an advantage in getting a good photo shoot and there's no chance of that here.”
“But that just makes me extra special, that I can have you for nothing.” He grinned at her. “I have an idea to make this seem more natural to you. Let's pretend that I'm one of your photographers. Show me what you would do.” Magnolia felt her chest tighten with panic. She couldn't pose in front of him any more than she could strip. Then she drew upon her years of experience and fixed him with her most disdainful and haughty look. Tucking her legs underneath her, she raised herself up in a languid, dismissive gesture. Stephanotis was delighted. She tossed back her hair and turned herself onto her side, then pulled her knees to her chest and bowed her head with her lower lip extended in her best pout.
He was completely captivated by this and wouldn't lay a hand on her, possibly for fear of breaking the spell. Probably every guy had had fantasies about having sex with an adult fashion model and here he was with one at his finger tips. Not one who was snobby and bitchy either, as those women were frequently rumored to be and she knew even ones that were sweet and kind were bitchy to most people because most people would randomly proposition them for sex. Outside, she was the gorgeous fantasy, but, inside, the girl who had always adored and admired him, only him. How perfect for Stephanotis, Magnolia thought bitterly. She didn't find this view of herself flattering at all. Instead, she almost felt used, like Stephanotis always had to have the best, exactly what he wanted, and she was just an instrument in fulfilling that. Before she had become this perfect thing, her feelings hadn't mattered and now... “I'm doing this to please me,” she reminded herself fiercely. “To hell what he thinks,” and she pulled off the last pieces of her lingerie, deliberately breaking the spell, leaving her naked, raw and real, and nothing but Magnolia. In the end, the comforter did get soiled and they had to flip it over in the hope that no one would notice. They spent several hours like this but, eventually, doubtless long after people had noticed and started fuming over his absence, Stephanotis slunk off to “show his face” at the party, muttering about how he felt like a ramora puppy on a short leash and promising to be back as soon as he could escape again. Magnolia refused to stay in the room alone and went into a sitting room nearby, pretending she was looking for mirrors, where she eventually fell asleep in the brocaded chaise lounge.
The next morning, Stephanotis asked, really begged, her to stay with him. She had nothing to hold her anywhere else and so she sent for her trunks of clothing out of the city and never looked back. She hadn’t expected his parents to receive her very well, but they made no objection in the slightest. Among the wealthy elite, it was perfectly acceptable, almost expected, for the heir to have a mistress. She ate with them in the grand dinning room and had the run of the mansion. Only when guests arrived did she have to keep out of sight, which she minded not at all. Who wanted to socialize with elitists snobs anyway, who were obsessed with minute and ridiculous rules about proper behavior? At first this was all like a golden dream to her. She could ride all over the grounds on the rabbit-pony--looking like a cross between but related to neither the two earth species as it was totally native to Redos--packing a picnic with her and spending the entire day watching the pterodactyls. She could order sculptured lime jelly deserts on a whim but not fear losing her figure because she also had a private dancing master to tutor her in all the latest styles. Stephanotis would take her for rides in the family’s air car, skimming over the mountains, the cliff faces as smooth and straight as if they had been cut with a knife blade, the rock marbled in black and dusty red with the waterfall system twisting through it like a silver ribbon.
But there was one thing that bothered her and made her joy imperfect: the way Stephanotis openly and deliberately flouted everything his class valued. He skipped out on social functions continuously. He would “spontaneously” insist that they have sex in various scandalous places such as atop the grand dining table (which was every bit as mortifying as she had imagined it would be) or in the middle of the prize tulip bed in the garden. He threw crab berries, round dark fruits like stoneless Earth cherries, at the garden statues and the carvings on the house. The berries were soft and smashed easily, leaving ugly black blotches on the white or pale gray stone. Stephanotis's aim was quite good and he often left the nymphs and water sprites with black eyes or dark leprous looking growths on their butts...or more embarrassing places. She fully understood his disgust with the restrictive mores placed on his life, but she felt his method of dealing with them was unwise and unproductive. Especially because, to the rest of the world, it looked very much like she was the cause of this behavior and Stephanotis did nothing to counter this idea, rather the reverse.
“You are my rebel muse,” he protested, whenever she voiced an objection. “I need you to help me see my way outside the cage.” She found his rebellion petty and hollow because he didn’t really understand or appreciate the good points of his situation. Having lived all his life in luxury, he took it for granted. If he wanted to be rid of his confinement, he could just walk out the door, but she knew he never would. Or, if he did, it would only be because he had no idea what he was giving up. All his actions seemed at least as calculated to shock and offend as to actually improve his situation. Although the ridiculous customs irritated her as much as he, she had no desire to risk losing the stability her position here gave her. Having warmth, a comfortable bed, and good food was worth jumping through a few hoops, such as having to choose the correct fork from a spread of twenty-five to eat each course with. She preferred to undermine their ideas in ways such as running around the yard bare-footed or going without the proper fancy underwear because it was too uncomfortable, which would probably never be known to anyone but her but still gave her a great sense of freedom nonetheless.
One day, a great aunt, one of the matriarchs of Stephanotis's family, was paying a visit, having traveled all the way from the ancestral homeland on Earth's natural moon. As was expected for such an illustrious guest, Magnolia was ordered to keep out of the way, but she caught a glimpse of the woman through an upstairs window. Very ancient, the great aunt was confined to a floating chair, with an oxygen tank and respirator mask attached to the back, just in case, even if she wasn't planning to do anything particularly active, all made from beautifully sculptured plastic, pearlized powder blue, set with gold. But she still wore a floor length evening gown of metallic scarlet, which had been the mode several generations ago, when she had been young. The skin of her arms was like the most delicately crinkled tissue paper, pointing to the high quality cosmetic surgery her class had access too. Her skin was the velvety smooth bronze color of a perfect (fake) tan and her bleach blond hair streaked with dark highlights, the perfect match in style to her dress. Magnolia rolled her eyes. With such an illustrious relation in the house, the etiquette level would be cranked way up and she could expect Stephanotis to get even more restless and vindictive than normal. Therefore, she wasn't surprised at all when he suddenly appeared next to her while she was reading in a secluded corner of the garden.
“Did you sneak off from your family duties again?” she asked with an indulgent smile.
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, god, yes. The old bag insisted that we play a game called flag football, which was popular when she was young. No one even remembers the rules anymore. And then we were all down on the croquet green with her tottering around in her chair, trying to snatch flags off people.”
“I'm sorry. It sounds horribly dull.”
“Yea, well, while they're distracted, it's a great opportunity. Let's go back and have sex in the master bedroom.”
Not this again. He must have seen the closed expression in her face. “Don't you want to have sex with me?” he asked with his most winning smile.
“Of course I do, but we could do it anywhere. What's wrong with your bed, for example?”
“But it's so much better when I know those old fossils with poles up their asses would be scandalized if they knew.” And he gave her that pleading look that it was impossible for her to refuse. Which was why she was here again laid out on the blue and peach coverlet, feeling the weight of Stephanotis's body pressing down on her, feeling his hips move against her. This time, they had only pushed the necessary articles of clothing out of the way. It was good to see that he was at least giving some slight nod to caution. But they had barely fitted themselves together before they heard footsteps in the hall. “Quick, behind the maid's bed,” cried Stephanotis, disengaging himself rather painfully from her. Magnolia rose to follow him but saw the bed behind her was completely tossed about and disarrayed, a sure give away of their presence. “Never mind that,” he scolded, as she turned back to smooth it. “If they don't find us, we can always let them think the maid did it.” Yea, that's right, blame the poor maid for your own stupidity. Magnolia defiantly smoothed the blankets down with her hands before diving for cover at the last possible second, even as the door handle was turning.
They had both been hoping that the steps in the hall would actually be the maid coming back to fetch something for the mistress, or, even better, some nosy trespassers poking around. Instead, the last person either of them had wanted to see stepped through the door. Stephanotis's father, Lord Cypress, paused in the entryway, letting his eyes slowly sweep the room in a bored way. Then, “You can come out my son,” he said. “I know you're there. And you can bring your little doxy with you.” Stephanotis slunk out passed her, looking like a pathetic remora puppy that had been caught chewing on, what it thought was a lovely bone, only to learn it was the finely carved bone handle of the mistress’s parasol.
“Your mother would die of shame if she knew about this. You have no sense of gratitude for all we’ve done for you.”
“Yes, sir,” Stephanotis mumbled, looking at the floor.
“And you.” He turned on Magnolia. “We welcomed you into our house as our guest, gave you advantages you could only have dreamed of otherwise, and this is how you repay us?”
Magnolia always weighed the odiousness of conforming against the risk of losing her security. Annoying fork selection didn’t cut it but this did. “I am not your guest,” she replied in a clear, steady voice. “I am Stephanotis's guest. He is the one who asked me here and I stayed because he needs me and I want to help him.”
>“He needs you?” Lord Cypress snorted. “If that is so, it is only because you have seduced and deluded him to believe it. What could he truly need when we have given him everything? He does not need you, rather you need him.”
Magnolia drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t very tall, as she removed the pearls from her neck, wrists, and ears, dropping them in a pile on the bed. “He needs me because I can give him the one thing that you, with all your wealth, cannot. I can show him that he is valued for himself and not for the lineage and properties you have given him. Why do you think he concealed his status from his peers for so long, even when they despised him? Even when we were school kids, both in muddy patched jeans, putting salt snails in each other's lunches and copying each other’s homework, his was the name I scribbled in my notebook, his kiss was the wish I whispered into my flower bouquets. I don’t need your wealth. I’ve survived without it, though it does make my life much easier. Stephanotis is much more important to me than his belongings and to prove it, I will give it all back. I am leaving, going back to the city, and taking only what I brought with me. I won't even take the gifts your son gave me because, even though I know he was sincere, they were bought with your money and I want none of it.”
Stephanotis chewed on the side of his lip in agitation upon hearing this but kept his eyes on the floor and only glanced at her sideways. “I would leave even my clothes but, since I don’t have anything of my own left, other than underwear, that wouldn’t be decent. So, I’ll take my plainest set of clothes.” She turned and strode towards the door.
“No, Magnolia. Don’t go.” She paused and glanced over her shoulder to see Stephanotis reaching out to her in anguish. “I need you to help me keep my sanity in the midst of this.” He flinched at his father’s withering glare.
“But you don’t need to lose me,” she replied, her voice sweet and gentle. “You say you hate this place…so, come with me.” She extended her hand. “Join me and be free.” He stared at her, his eyes glassy and unmoving as if paralyzed. His look of longing for her was undiminished but over it was frozen an expression of abject horror.
©Amanda RR Hamlin 2017
