A Study in Fragrance Pt. 15

Em was impressed. Steph was following Jamie's instructions, relaxing into the rhythm of her breathing, the blush that had started to color her face, fading.

"The fragrance," Jamie intentionally called Steph's attention to Complicit, "is filling your Chakras, is infusing you with its healing energy. You are just a stop along its way, a receptacle for the love and beauty it lights up in you." Jamie's voice was almost hypnotic, soothing and calm; her words weaving positive images and feelings for Steph to cling to.

Em smiled and turned to set the final load in a clear spot down the hall. Just like upstairs the week before, what had been so carefully compressed into three boxes had expanded, now to nearly half the length of the hallway.

"I think I'm okay" Em heard Steph's voice steady and calm. "I want to see what Em's got here."

The two turned the corner and eyed the piles of books, boxes and stacks of pamphlets carefully placed along the floor.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Steph's voice almost normal. "I didn't realize..."

Jamie was just staring, her head nodding slightly.

"So," Em started, "I think there'll be enough room on the shelves, but I'm not sure the best way to organize it...?"

They all started talking at once, politely stopping and then interrupting again.

"Hold up, hold up." Steph held her hand out, laughing. "Let's step back a second." She turned to Jamie. "You were in that Library Science class with me, right?" Jamie nodded. "Remember the part about the purpose of an archive?" Another nod. She turned to Emily. "The key things I remember were: Why are you doing this? Who is it for? And what purpose does it serve? Did I remember those right?"

"Close enough," Jamie agreed.

They both looked to Em.

Why am I doing this? Why am I doing this? "Uhhh...hmmm. I guess when I imagined it, it was going to be a shrine to Abby." She giggled, a little embarrassed at the thought. "I mean, something to remember her by. She was a pretty incredible person..."

Steph nodded encouragingly; Jamie had turned to her phone.

"And...it's for me, I guess. And my parents of course. And I suppose it's like any of their other art. It's something for visitors to admire or look at." When she said it she realized it sounded kind of stupid. Who would bother coming up here to look at old books and pamphlets. "That's sound dumb."

Steph looked surprised, objecting. "Not dumb to me! Sounds really cool." She looked along the floor and glanced at the wall. "And...are you thinking of moving anything from there?" Her nod implied the cabinets in The Study.

"Oh no!" Emily blurted out with a little more emotion than she felt. "Sorry. I mean, I want to know what all that stuff is, but I didn't think I'd move it. It's so organized in there..." How weird is it I'm standing here naked while they're dressed? But her feelings didn't rise to humiliation or embarrassment, just curiosity. The tendril lay in its flower pot, her core, a sleeping dog in its bed.

Steph nodded, scanning the stuff.

"So," Jamie looked up from her phone. "I did a quick search on how to design a shrine, and there's some pretty good stuff here. It looks like if we follow a few basic principles it shouldn't be too hard." She put her phone in her pocket. "So, should we just start moving stuff around until it feels right?"

Em looked at Steph, her friend's expression a perfect reflection of Em's own feelings. "uhhh, well. Some of these thngs are pretty fragile...I mean, they're over 100 years old...so..."

"And we're not even sure how much or even what we've got," Steph interrupted. "How about we do a quick inventory of everything...?" She looked at Jamie to make sure she was okay with that.

"Sure!" Jamie shrugged.

Em could hear the guys getting ready to leave for lunch. "Hey...you don't need me for a sec, right?"

Steph shrugged and suggested Emily didn't need to help on this at all if she needed to do something else.

Em was half-way down the stairs, staying out of sight of the back door. She was hoping to catch Cos before he left. She hadn't seen him yet and wanted to know what else he had to do and to add the shelf problem to that list.

"Hey!" She stopped at the landing, standing back so no one could see her. She thought she saw him walking past the bottom step, about to leave. "Got a sec? Can you come up here?"

He re-appeared at the opening and looked up and around. "Give me a sec, I'll be right out," he called to the others walking out. He entered the stairwell and looked up at her, smiling when he saw her. "Wassup?"

"I uh, was just wondering if there was anything on your list to do after..." she waved her hands, "cuz I got something." She realized she'd left herself open for a comeback, knowing she sounded like an idiot, naked and vague. A pulse of arousal shot out from her core.

"A few small things. Watcha got?" He stared at her, his eyes boring into her.

Oh fuck. She looked at his waist, expecting to see a bulge, immediately thinking how stupid she was being. "Uhh the shelves? In the bookcase? They, um, people will pull them out...did you have some way to lock them in?"

He nodded. "Shoot! Yeah. I have the hardware. Right. Okay. I'll add that to the list. We need to tap in the closet molding and do any final touchup on paint. You should look at the beadboard stain and see if it needs another coat, or a different color, yeah?"

She nodded. "K." She looked down, not sure what else to say, and she knew she looked silly, like she was avoiding his eyes. Servant cunt. The tendril lifted, the blossom opening slightly, and she breathed, forcing herself to look into his face.

"I gotta go have lunch. But," he lowered his voice, his head tipping a little, "they are getting impatient. I brought you something." He nodded toward the first floor. "To help you in the next part of your training...We'll get started at 3:30. Be ready..."

She swallowed, the memory of being tied, of being used, curtaining down behind her eyes. Her friends' voices brought her back, shredding the images.

He looked up the stairs and back at her, grinning. "They naked too?" His eyes glinted.

"Fuck you. You wish." She turned back up the stairs, her voice hiding how intimidated she felt.

Jamie and Steph had begun moving the contents of the boxes along the wall, grouping them: personal belongings, books, pamphlets and journals. She realized the packaging itself was interesting, a type of cardboard she'd never seen before. And then she remembered the newspapers stuffed inside. "Hey, guys," she knelt down to pull out a crumpled piece, "any idea how to show these?" She held up the wad.

Steph looked confused, but Jamie got it, nodding.

"You could put them all in a box or a glass bowl or something and keep them on the bottom shelf. Let people pull them out and look."

Em nodded, thinking. "They're so fragile though..." She set it down carefully, seeing pieces of newsprint scattered at the bottom of the box. Sitting down, her back resting against the bathroom wall, knees up, she surfed for tips. She knew she was completely exposed, sitting this way, but she didn't care. It's my house. She smiled. She was losing all sense of boundaries. By the time she had finished, her friends had started opening the pamphlets, organizing them by date. "I think the newspaper is a lost cause," she said, thinking about what she'd just read. "The pamphlets might be more important though." She thought about calling the Historical Society and asking them for advice.

"Whoaah. Check this out." Jamie looked up, the pamphlet she'd been reading open on the floor. She reached over for Abby's sketch book, leafing through it. "Look!"

They knelt in front of the open pamphlet, its first page displaying an ink drawing of a bouquet of flowers, the petals and stems delicately rendered, just a hint of shadow giving it some depth. In the sketch book, they saw almost the exact same drawing, with the addition of deep reds and pinks, and, it was at the juncture of a reclining nude.

"Ruby!" Em exhaled quietly, remembering the week before when she'd seen Maribel's sketch and inscription. "Check the date."

Abby had dated Ruby's sketch in January 1894, the pamphlet was several months later. Em kept studying the sketch book. "Steph, can you help me figure out the flowers Abby is talking about here? And Jamie, see what the topic is in the pamphlet." She wasn't sure if any of it meant anything, but if Abby was as clever as Em thought, there was more going on than what appeared on the pages.

"Okay. Ready. What've you got?" Steph had opened one of the encyclopedias.

"Uhhh, malus domestica." Emily studied the figure while Steph searched through the book. In the sketch, several five petaled flowers, white at the edges, deepening to pink toward their centers, were arranged in a cluster along the top of Ruby's thigh.

"Apple blossom. Hold on, let me see what that might have meant." Steph opened another book, leafing to a dog eared page. "Shit. It could mean 'temptation,' or 'preference,' or 'overwhelming love' or christ! 'the Celtic symbol for love.' Sheesh!" Steph looked up, laughing. "If I had to guess," she said deadpanning, "I'd say it has something to do with love."

"Okay," Em smiled, not looking up, "how about alstromeria?"

Steph looked at her. "Really? Like, as in alstromeria?"

Em looked at her blankly.

"Alstromeria. The flower. In the garden?"

Em shook her head. "I...is that a flower I should know about?"

Steph just harrumphed and turned to the open book. "I figured with your mother and gardening and all you'd know that one...Okay, 'devotion, uhhh, love again, uhhhm, it depends on the color??? Jeez these people were into it. Oh...'mutual support through trials.' Hmmm..."

All the while Jamie was nodding. "Yeah, here's the dedication in the pamphlet: For the one whose heart beats pure with deep red love.' Wow. Hold on. Here's the front letter:

      "Dear Ladies,

     Are our flowers merely pretty things, arranged in a vase, on display, their perfume gracing salons?"

Jamie stopped, her eyes briefly glanced between Em's legs. Steph and Em both followed her gaze, Em looking between the two of them, shrugging.

"Keep going," Em encouraged, refusing to be embarrassed by her nakedness.

      "Are they simply fragile petals, the instruments of sensual pleasure, fleeting and ephemeral? Is that the purpose our Creator has in mind for them? To grace our households with beauty, and aromas, arranged just so, as bouquets of promise? But, paradoxically (as so much of Creation is truly unknowable) the flowers that adorn our garden beds foretell the promise of new life, of the next generations, powerful omens embedded in such frailty!

      "My gentle Ladies, we need not question the wisdom of our Creator to solve this conundrum. Power and frailty are but two of Nature's intentions for our garden's bloom. Let us focus, not on the vase in the salon, not on the blossoms, cut from their cradle, but on the living plant of which they are the most showy member.

      "Our gardens flourish greatest when like is planted with like, when they cluster and group, not only to be more pleasing to the eye or nose, but in lending support and sustenance; when, as neighbors, they stand together against the driving rain of Spring or the hot winds of Summer.

      "Nature has blessed our gardens with innate power, subtly dressed in florid bouquets, a power which, when we nurture with gentle attention, we can grow and strengthen."

"Are they all like that?" Jamie looked up to see Steph and Emily nodding and smiling.

"I actually think I'm starting to get her," Emily said, looking back at the sketch. "And Zengiber."

Steph nodded. "Ginger. Red ginger," she looked over Emily's shoulder at the sketch, nodding. "Fiery passion and...strength."

The three looked at each other, nodding. "Ruby," they all said it at the same time.

"I wonder who she was," Emily looked around. "I mean, they were obviously a thing. At least from January through...May?" Jamie confirmed. "And maybe a hot thing," Emily continued, smiling, thinking of Caroline all of a sudden.

"But this is more than a love letter," Janie continued. "She's talking about group action, right?"

Steph nodded. "Another call to action, but who knows why? Maybe there was some event she was upset about, or maybe something happened to one of them...maybe Ruby." She squeezed her mouth into a flat line. "But it makes organizing this even more difficult, cuz if there's hidden connections between the pieces, like this one, that would be pretty nice for people to see." She turned back to the next stack of pamphlets, checking their dates and stacking them in order. "Hold on." She stood up and went to her purse. "We should at least take a couple of notes about this connection. Maybe it's the only one." But her expression suggested she didn't believe that was true.

Emily rolled back onto her feet. "I'm not so sure." A thought had occurred to her. "I don't know if that's really a call to action for the entire group, or maybe just for Ruby. Maybe," she looked toward the stair, unfocused, "these pamphlets aren't just generic 'modern guides to women's health.' Maybe they're guides to specific women's health." She walked to stand in front of the bookcase, imagining what arrangement of Abby's stuff would illustrate the complexity of who she was. "Maybe she was hiding her guidance to Ruby, or Maribel, or whoever, in plain sight."

"Like a spiritual counselor..." Janie said, working through her pile of pamphlets. "Like a priestess..."

Fuck! Emily looked over to Steph, who caught her eye and nodded. "Yeah. I s'pose. But maybe she knew that whatever was going on with Ruby or Maribel or whoever else she was having relationships with, maybe their situation wasn't unique to them. Maybe she figured all of her readers would have similar feelings." She realized she was back to her original idea about Abby providing guidance to the group. But it's more than that. She really was writing to one of them at a time.

She left them to their inventory walking to the front stairs to look at the pile of giveaway clothes. Grabbing two armfuls she made her way back to the bookcase, turning around and gently pushing it open with her butt. Knowing everything would end up in a pile anyway, she deposited her load onto the inlay. Too late, she realized she might have triggered Steph by opening the door.

"Hey!," she peeked around the corner of the opening. "You okay?!" She pulled the door closed, careful to use the frame and not a shelf.

They both looked up, puzzled. "Yeah...?" Jamie looked surprised, still not expecting Emily to be naked.

"Okay...it's just...I...opened The Study and was worried it might be a problem." She studied Steph's face. Her friend looked fine. Annoyed maybe, but fine. "Wow, Steph. That's amazing."

Steph shrugged, turning back to her sorting.

Em's stomach growled. "You guys hungry?"

"I actually have to take off," Jamie said, "but thanks."

"Me too, Em. Gotta run."

The three looked at the stuff strewn along the hall.

"Uhhh...tomorrow. The BLN. Maybe we should put this someplace out of the way...?" Emily was imagining seven people going in and out, and then Cos and her working on the bookcase today.

Jamie looked at Steph. "I can come over tomorrow morning, if that works for you?"

Steph stared at her phone, nodding. "Yeah - I've got something at 10:30. Can you make it early? Like 8?" She stopped and looked at Emily. "Is that too early?"

Em laughed. "I've got practice. I'll be back a little after 8 at the latest, but the crew will be here by then. Get started if I'm not here."

She turned back to her bedroom to throw on some clothes. "I'll walk down with you, hold on."

Downstairs, after seeing them off, she tossed together a lunch and caught up on her phone. When the crew came back she nodded a greeting, avoiding Cos's eyes. The memory of what he'd said when he'd left rushed back. The next phase in my training. Her pussy had never quieted; if anything it was squishier than before. The seam of her shorts rubbed against her, calling attention to the tingling. Tingling that hadn't stopped since yesterday. The need. The emptiness. Having him fill her up again. She shifted in her chair, her cheeks rubbing against the fabric of her shorts. He was going to spank her again. He was going to take her there. She wanted the spanking, but the thought of him fucking her in her ass made her squirm. She wanted him to do it all over again. Just like Saturday. She had to move away from the kitchen, do something else. It was hours before he was off; hours before they could be together.

The Historical Society. She flashed on the pamphlets and newspapers. Shooting upstairs, she gathered a couple of items, looked at what she was wearing and threw on underwear, a pair of light cotton trousers, a bra and a button down shirt. It didn't help reduce her arousal, the thought of what Cos was going to do to her later a constant pulse, but she needed to be presentable. And then out the door to the Society for any suggestions they might have for how to preserve Abby's stuff.

Two hours later and she was back. It had been overwhelming. A staff member had given her a lot of his time, with lots of suggestions, including places to buy materials. He didn't have much to offer about how to solve the sketchbook to pamphlet problem, except suggesting photocopying key pages and displaying them together. And the newspaper was probably a lost cause. He walked her through how to unwrinkle it, but the process seemed way too complicated. Jamie's original suggestion, of leaving them crumpled and in a bowl, actually made the most sense.