Charmed to the Tenth Ch. 05

He thought again about how he'd like to be buried so deeply in her.

"Oh... oh, that's... so good."

This time he thought about being balls deep as he pushed half way in. She moaned and scraped her nails down his back.

He kept thinking of himself being buried as deeply as possible, and he slowly inched his way into her. By the time he was fully seated, he was dripping with sweat and knew he wasn't going to last no matter how he proceeded.

"I'm all the way in now and God you're so tight. I'm not going to last much longer." He pushed all the way in, pulled all the way out, over and over watching her.

"Harder, like last time."

"Quick study." He accommodated and they came together not long after. He fell onto his side and brought her with him. Trying to get his breathing under control, he stroked her from neck to ass and back again. His heartbeat finally calming, he slowed his stroking until his hand remained still, resting on her hip bone.

"Um, Jeff, I just thought of something."

He opened his eyes wide at the tone in her voice. "Oh no, I came in you, you're not on the pill or anything are you? I can't believe that never crossed my mind. Christ. I've got condoms in my wallet and in my glove box and not once did I think of it." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her shoulder. "I'm so sorry love."

"Jeff, I'm not sure this is the time of month to worry. So let's just not think about that this time. Okay?" She snuggled up closer to him and waited to be sure his anxiety went away.

Jeff awoke when he felt her licking his neck. He smiled and reached out for her. He jumped up and launched himself out of the bed. He had been kissed by that sandy haired dog. He wiped the spot on his neck that was all slobbery. The dog was standing on the bed, his tail wagging back and forth at a very fast pace.

Jeff laughed. "Dude, you've got to be cooler, you know. You don't go around licking other guy's necks for Christ's sake." Bingo's whole back end was wagging now. "Whoa horsey, dial it back."

Eva walked up the stairs carrying a tea cup and a mug. "Come on drink your coffee and let's get moving. Gail Surgie has called three more times. I told her we'd be there in forty-five minutes. Bingo get off my bed."

"Wait, did you say Surgie? Her husband's a carpenter, about 6'3", around sixty years old?" When Eva nodded Jeff smiled. "Well I'll be damned. Denny Surgie? I used to work for him, he taught me everything I know, helped me convert my warehouse to loft units. He's a great guy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The General walked out of his office and returned his aide's salute.

"I need a walk. Not to be disturbed." He pulled a Cuban cigar from his breast pocket. He waved it so his aide could see what this walk was all about and smiled as he left.

Exiting the building he walked east toward the Potomac. Once he arrived at the inlet he began to stroll and smoke the illegal cigar. After a few minutes he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number he had memorized, but had never dialed before.

"D. My man. I'm smoking that baby girl from your trip to the islands. She's a delight." He listened for a moment then threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, if only I could get away, even seven days would be enough." He listened some more, then because a plane was flying overhead to land at Regan National, He practically shouted, "Absolutely, somewhere on the water so I could just sit calmly, put my feet up and wait for the fish to jump into my boat."

He walked and talked some more then hung up. He kept his gaze on the boats at the inlet marina. One day he'd have enough time on his hands. He'd be standing atop a Flybridge with nothing but open water to see from miles around. One day, he said to himself. Then went back inside the building.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeff and Eva pulled up in front of Gail and Denny Surgie's sprawling ranch home exactly forty-five minutes later.

"So, you see Jeff I really think it would be best if you stayed down here with Denny. Mother doesn't even know you; I really don't want to aggravate her more than she already is."Gail scowled as she looked in Eva's direction. "She been so upset all day, it's just been too much for her waiting for you."

Eva was wearing her glasses, but felt something was not as it should be. She studied Gail and felt nothing; she studied Denny and felt curiosity. That was it. Gail was giving nothing out. She was hiding something. Eva hadn't encountered too many people who could keep their feelings to themselves, it was very rare. People like Denny, who had very easy going countenances and rarely experienced much range in emotion were more common in men, but still not terribly common. Both a husband and a wife able to hide things from her, how unusual, she thought.

Denny slapped Jeff on the back. "Don't bother the women, son. I want to show you some antique router bits I just got. They're in mint condition and I think we can use them on the handrails on your marina."

Eva and Gail walked down the hall to the bedrooms while Jeff and Denny walked the other direction to the garage.

"Mother? I've brought her, mother. Eva is here." Gail patted her mother's liver spotted hand and waited for her to wake up. "She's worn out, poor thing. Worrying all day, waiting for you. Eva, you really should have called sooner."

"You'll just have to trust me that I called as soon as I could." It was on the tip of Eva's tongue to apologize, but she held it back. Gail was acting like an indulged princess. This was not the Gail Eva had come to like.

"Sit there Eva. I don't know how long it's going to take for her to wake." Gail pointed absentmindedly at the chair on the other side of the bed.

Once seated, Eva reached out to touch the woman's cheeks. "So smooth and soft, still."

"I don't think Mother would approve of a total stranger stroking her cheek. Maybe you should just sit and wait for her to wake up." Gail barely looked at Eva.

"Gailie, do not speak to Eva that way. She came all the way out here to see me at my request." The old woman was awake and alert. As if she hadn't just been sound asleep.

"I'm sorry mother, I was just worried. I'm sorry Eva." But Gail wasn't feeling any contrition that Eva could tell.

"Gail, please go and be with Denny while I talk with Eva. What I have to tell her is for her alone. I'm sorry my sweet daughter, but it must be this way."

Gail huffed and glared at Eva as she turned to leave the room.

"Gailie, my sweet. Thank you. I love you more than I can say. You know that, right?" The old woman struggled to sit up more but gave up and blew a kiss to her daughter.

Gail smiled and left, shutting the door quietly. It took the woman a few minutes to take her gaze from the door. Eva waited patiently. The woman let out a slow breath and closed her eyes. She squeezed out a tear, which surprised Eva.

"Eva... Eva LeMere? Let me look at you my dear? Oh, such eyes, yes, I've seen them before." She began to weep ever so delicately. "Oh, enough sentimental old woman. Do you speak French my dear?"

" Oui, Je parle un peu français. "

"Bon, tres bon. But we'll stick to English anyway. I have a rather long and, I dare say, unbelievable story to tell you. I don't know how much time we have left together, so I must ask you not to interrupt, just to listen. Yes, you can do this?"

Eva nodded silently and waited for the story to begin.

"I was a very lucky 19 year old girl. Considering the times back then, when most 19 year old girls were looking for husbands or some way to earn a living to help the family, I was headed off to Paris for the next seven months. Or so I thought...

"My family was just my mother, my father and me. My father was a mechanic; he worked for Mr. Ford from the first day of that famous assembly line when they only produced six cars a day. Mr. Ford liked my father and as the factory expanded, my father moved up and up. Even during the depression, when no one had money and very few had jobs, my father kept his job and kept moving up.

"So, there I was. A high school graduate who wanted to go to university and study art history. I loved art but loved history even more. My parents didn't want me to go to college; they felt I should stay home until I was married. I had been accepted at Columbia Normal School- that's what they used to call a teacher's college-and wanted to go so badly. My mother was on my side but my father wouldn't hear of it. I lost hope and finally gave up. My mother saw how sad I was and tried to introduce me to nice boys so I could get married and forget about Columbia. I wasn't even a little bit interested in getting married and turned up my nose to every man she introduced me to.

"But the year after I graduated something wonderful fell into my lap, from the most unbelievable source imaginable. My father, the man who insisted his daughter remain at home until she found a husband, had heard about a group of girls—back then you were a girl until you got married or were old enough to be an old maid—who were leaving in three weeks time, for Paris, France. They were to stay in a convent in Paris while they studied at the Sorbonne. They were only staying the fall and spring term and they would be heavily chaperoned and supervised by Catholic nuns. If I wanted to study art history, this would be my only chance. Of course I took it and was extremely grateful for the chance. I promised that when I returned home, I would agree to look for a husband and settle down.

"The liner we took to cross the Atlantic was huge. I had never been on a boat before but had seen pictures of the great ocean liners. During the three weeks it took to cross, the sisters had us taking classes daily. We had to be proficient in French. They gave us maps of the city and had us study them. We were only allowed to travel through the city in groups of four, no less. If we were to be gone from the convent for more than five hours, we had to have one of the sisters with us. The rules were endless it seemed, but I was determined not to break a single one. I was so grateful for the chance I would not want the sisters to be upset or worried. This was the second such trip they had organized for girls and we knew if anything went wrong, there would never be any more trips for anyone in the future.

"There were twenty of us, all good catholic girls, all from families that hadn't been affected by the great depression. We became fast friends and sisters to each other. We arrived in Paris on August 20th, 1939.

"The next eight months went by in a blur of elation and worry. France had declared war on Germany, French troops were gathering and mobilizing. But here we were in Paris, studying at the Sorbonne; we were safe. Telegrams were sent explaining our continued safety and the decision to keep to our schedule and return in May, after a two week journey to Amsterdam. From there, we were to board a liner that would take us back to America.

"We did not pay much attention to what was happening in the world, or I didn't, at least. I was engrossed in my studies, determined to soak up everything I could, see every painting I could, eat in every patisserie I could find. But May arrived, as much as I wished it away, and it was time to prepare to return to America, my home, my family and my future; my future as Mrs. So-and-So from such-and-such. This was not a happy thought for me at all.

"We never made it to Amsterdam. The Germans had invaded Holland and Brussels. The sisters frantically searched for a liner that would take us back to America from France, but the military had commandeered everything to rescue the trapped allied forces. And so we became trapped. The sisters then turned to Spain, thinking they could find safe passage from there. I never did find out how they all got back, if they got back. I've never had the courage to look.

"Due to the tensions in the city, people were preparing to leave. It was only a matter of time before the war arrived in Paris. The sisters granted four of us permission for one last trip to the Louvre. The next day, May 16th we were to leave for Spain, we had one last day in which to study. I was in the south quarter, studying the last of the French masters on my list when I heard explosions outside. They were so loud I can still feel the rumbling in my chest. Chaos broke out as everyone tried to get out of the museum and find safety. We thought the Nazis had arrived. I was swept along with a crowd of people moving so fast, it was all I could do not to fall and get trampled to death.

"Once I got outside I could see the smoke and the flames from the building next door; Port de Louvre the street that ran on the south side of the museum was clogged with traffic and cars and people trying to contain the fire and rescue those trapped inside. The meeting point for my group was right there, in front of that very building. I became as panicked as everyone else thinking another bomb would drop on us any second. I didn't know what to do and I couldn't find any of my group. In a daze I stood there, watching the building burn, waiting for some sort of direction.

"A woman grabbed my elbow. She had tears running freely down her cheeks, and asked me in French if I was to meet people over there. Numbly, I nodded and tears squeezed from my eyes. She shook her head and put her arm around my shoulders; "Je regret... Je regret" she said over and over. After I looked at her blankly for a while, she reminded that she had accompanied our driver that day. Since it was an unplanned excursion, the regular couple were unavailable. Her neighbor had been our driver and she had agreed to accompany him to appease the sisters who would not leave young ladies in the care of any man without a woman present.

I don't know how she recognized me because I didn't really recognize her. I had always been lost in thought and wonderment traveling in the city. I counted on my group to keep those details in mind. Now I had no group, now I had to pay attention.

"The woman, Madame Victoire, told me she had left the car to go in search of a cup of chocolate, otherwise she would have been burning too. She offered to take me back to the convent. But first we had to secure transport. We hurried and pushed our way west on Port de Louvre, which became more and more clogged with people. We heard more explosions from a distance, but kept our pace away from the important buildings. From the maps the sisters had made us study, I knew we were headed in the wrong direction, we should have turned north on Rue Royal if we were supposed to be going back to the convent at Montmarte. But I trusted Madame and knew she would lead me in the right direction.

"She had stopped several cars trying to get us transport, but none would allow us. Then she spoke to a policeman who would not even spare a glance in our direction, so busy was he getting the traffic to move so emergency and military responders could get through. He told us there were bombings in the north and to go south.

"You know, when 9/11 hit in New York, I saw on the news the people traveling the streets in a daze. That's what it was like back then. But we didn't have news coverage or cell phones and rumors were flying through the city, making everyone even more panicked. Finally Mme. Victoire decided that we would go back to her home and wait to hear what we should do.

"By the time the truth came out, that Paris had not been attacked, that only the one building had exploded due to a gas leak, which set off other gas leaks which set off other fires, we were long gone from Paris, my group had left without me, and the Nazis were indeed rolling down the Champs-Élysées.

"We arrived in the country, west of Le Mans, I had never been on a farm in my life. We stayed with Mme. Victoire's sister and her husband and their seven children. I had sent off several letters to my family letting them know that I was safe, for now, and that I was staying with the LeVeigh family. M. LeVeigh was a huge man who loved life but hated the Germans. When news arrived they had entered his beloved Paris, M. LeVeigh cried like a babe.

"I'm growing so tired, but there is much more you must know. I shall have to skip to the end, just about.

"By Christmas 1941, I had made many attempts to secure passage back home and they all failed for one reason or another. It became too dangerous for me to stay with M. and Mme LeVeigh, so many people "knew I was an American and it was only a matter of time before the Nazis would want to know about me too. We moved to another farm, north of Bordeaux, just outside a little village called Bourg.

"There we stayed with M. LeVeigh's cousin. M. Lemaire had 5 children, his wife had died several years before. It would be plausible to pass me off as Mme Victoire's daughter, if we could secure the papers for a new identity for me. Mme Victoire would become M. Lemaire's new wife in a legal ceremony. Apparently this was something Mme Victoire had wanted for some time

"Again, I go off track. I'm so sorry my dear, this old mind remembers clear as a bell those days, but can't remember what happened this morning.

"Mme Victoire is now Mme Lemaire. We are successful in passing ourselves off in our new identities, when news of the Jews being rounded up and kicked out of Paris trickle down to us. I thought, stupid girl that I was at the time, I should have stayed in Paris so that the Germans would kick me out too. But we hear more and more rumors about Jews being murdered, whole families wiped out. M. Lemaire is furious at what the Germans are doing to his country. He and his oldest son join the Resistance. His farm is so close to where the great Gironde and Dordogne meet that the Resistance come to visit us often. But never when we are awake, always he warned us; "You sleep all night tonight, let nothing get you from bed where all you will see are sweet dreams."

"One morning, in June, 1942 I woke up and found a strange man sitting at the table talking with Mme and M. Lemaire. I knew immediately he was a Jew but I didn't know how I knew. Although he was malnourished, and disheveled, I felt an instant attraction to him. His eyes, almost like chocolate, bored into my soul and I felt like we knew each other already. M. Lemaire directed me to fetch more wood and begin making breaklfast.

"I watched him eat and saw that he had high table manners not commonly found among the french farmers. Each time M. Lemaire spoke to him, he replaced his fork and waited to see if a reply was needed. After a long time of poor Leopold just listening and not eating, I asked M. Lemaire to tell me again how he swam the Gironde with his brother rowing beside him. Once M. Lemaire was thus engaged, Leopold ate his breakfast very fast and winked at me several times.

"I thought my face would catch fire with how red it must be. When Leopold looked into my eyes, I had no other thoughts at all. I had so many questions about him, but knew better than to ask.

"Leopold stayed hidden in the barn for the next week. We never saw him and of course I never spoke of him. Then one night M. Lemaire woke me up and told me to dress in the warmest clothing I had. He gave me an extra pair of socks because my boots were too big for me.

"They were going to smuggle us out. Leopold was to be intercepted by some other group of the Resistance while I was to be taken to Spain. At the rendezvous point, where we were to split up, my escort didn't show. The fighters who had arrived to escort Leopold were getting nervous and didn't know what to do with me. Finally they could wait no more and were going to leave me behind. I cried and begged to be taken with them. I had no idea where I was or how I would find my way back without alerting the whole countryside to what was happening.