Secrets of the Tea Room Ch. 02

I didn't set the alarm clock for Monday morning, I simply let the autumn sunshine gently wake me. The coffee was waiting, I gathered up the morning paper which had been deposited at my door and plopped on the sofa to dwell over it and the rest of the pot of coffee.

As my mantel clock struck 9:00, I realized it was time to get ready for my luncheon with Mr. Emerly. The magazine people were anxious to see the story and I hoped I could finish the interview this afternoon and polish off the article tonight.

I showered and walked to my closet. As I reached for another pair of tailored slacks, I thought it would be far more pleasant to wear a dress again. I hadn't dressed since my last divorce. But, I wouldn't let those thoughts creep into my mind and spoil my mood. I chose a teal colored knit dress, coweled at the collar and belted at the waist, I kicked aside my practical loafers and stepped into a pair of 2" sienna leather heels. I gave myself an approving nod and went straight to the table to gather things for my interview. There was really no gathering to be done because I suddenly realized I hadn't touched anything since Friday afternoon. I shook my head in disbelief, grabbed my briefcase, and headed to the parking garage.

Just as before, the drive into the country did me a world of good and as I once again passed out of the shady oak tunnel Tanglewood revealed it self to me. This time Mr. Emerly was standing on the veranda at the stop of the steps and quickly came down to open my car door. "I'm so glad you could make it, Miss Prentiss. As you very well know, I entertain rarely but do enjoy it immensely when I do. I have been looking forward to this little luncheon all weekend." By that time he had lead me to the seating area on the east side of the veranda and smoothly pulled out my chair for me. As I sat, "I did enjoy your gardens last Friday and was looking forward to seeing you again, as well. As you can imagine, my magazine friends are putting quite a bit pressure on me to finish up the article in time for the next edition. I was hoping you would grant me an interview today."

I slid the Irish linen napkin across my lap noticing that Mr. Emerly motioned to someone through the French doors, and a servant appeared with two salads. She sat them in front of us, first mine then Mr. Emerly's. Although no stranger to fine dining, I had never seen a tossed salad quite like this, the base layer was of course a frilly lettuce, but then on top were julienne strips of bright red, brilliant pink, sunny yellow, and minced pieces of something lavender. I crinkled my eye brows and Mr. Emerly laughed at me, "I hope you enjoy the salad, it's an old recipe given to me by a wonderful Creole woman many years ago. It's filled with baby greens, herbs, and edible flowers I'm sure will delight you. We serve it with a simple balsamic vinaigrette so as not to confuse the flavors. Tell me if you like it."

"Although I understand you are originally from Wisconsin, I hope our sweet tea is to your liking. It is also a special blend, one that I'm particularly fond of."

The salad was honestly very good. Nothing like I had tasted before, bitter and sweet and tangy all at the same time. The little minced laven der pieces were crunchy and had a wonderful texture.

"You were telling me about your marriage, Miss Prentiss. Can I intrude into your life a little further and ask if you were a virgin when you married Peter?"

"Good Lord, Mr. Emerly! You certainly don't mince words, do you? But, my business with you here is professional, if you grant me an interview I promise my article will be honest and forthright. If not, we need not waste each other's time."

"Oh, my dear, forgive me," his blue eyes almost transfixed me, "I suppose it is just an over-zealousness on my part to make a friend here in Savannah. I do apologize, I am not usually this forward. Of course, I will give you your interview ... it will be my pleasure to do so. And we will get right to it after dessert ... I had my calendar cleared for you this afternoon."

I exhaled and realized that perhaps I had reacted far too strongly to this obviously kind man, I shouldn't always be so guarded.

The rest of the luncheon went without incident. After the salad we were served a delicious warm pasta with medallions of grilled duck breast accompanied by a crusty Italian peasant bread. Mr. Emerly and I chatted about the weather, local politics, whether we thought the Georgia Bulldogs would go all the way this year.

As the last of the dishes were cleared away, Mr. Emerly pulled out a cigarette, "Do you mind if I smoke?"

"Not at all", I replied.

"Would you care for coffee?"

"Oh, yes", I replied

Mr. Emerly motioned again, and the same servant brought out the familiar silver tray. After she went back into the house, Mr. Emerly poured my coffee ...

"Now, my dear, I'll tell you a little about my life ...

My remarkable life had a totally unremarkable beginning.

I was born in a quiet little town to an industrious farmer and his wife. Through no fault of my own, I was born late and hard. My mother labored courageously to bring me into this world, then bruised, exhausted and weak she gladly left this plain. My name was to have been William Austin Emerly, Jr. But when Mother died, Dad decided to name me after her family, so I became Jackson Austin Emerly.

My Dad was my whole world. He did his best to be everything to me, but it wasn't easy for him. Raising a bullheaded, gregarious boy was more of a challenge than he'd bargained for. He worked hard, sweated a living out of dirt, and then tried his best to teach me right from wrong and bring me up in a way that would have made Mother proud.

My high school years just added to his headaches. My fighting, playing practical jokes, and skipping school had him called by the principal more often that he would have liked. He'd often leave the school, towing me by the collar, and shaking his head. He'd lecture, punish, scold. One time called the preacher in to try to put the fear of God into me ... but I'm afraid I was as irreverent back then as I am now ... and the acerbic, old toad in black had little effect on my outlook. Even then, I would not rob pleasure from today on the vague promise of a tomorrow."

I interrupted him with my giggle. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I just can't picture you, this handsome, sophisticated man sitting in front of me, being some incorrigible little boy!"

"Oh, but it's true, Miss Prentiss. There are very few regrets in my life, but there are some things of which I am not proud", he chuckled.

His light hearted revelations made me reconsider his earlier question and I didn't feel there'd be any harm in answering, "Well, sir, to answer your earlier question ... I was almost a 'virgin' when I married Peter ... there had been a few times while I was in college when I'd had a little too much to drink ... I wasn't exactly a nun after all ...but, none of them were special ... come to think of it, neither were the encounters. Peter changed all that ... he was an extraordinary lover ... he was unselfish, kind, gentle, passionate and demanding all at the same time. I think is was one of a kind ... as I mentioned the other day ... once I saw those dark eyes soften as he hovered above me ... well, never mind. That's over with now."

In an effort to switch attention away from myself and bolstered by an unfamiliar courage, I ventured on, "Tell me, Mr. Emerly, when did you loose your virginity?"

Now, it was his turn to appear startled! "Miss Prentiss, I don't think I want this as part of the article you're writing about me ..."

"Oh no ... it won't be ... this is strictly off the record ... just between you and me. After all ...I've told you mine and now it's your turn to tell me yours."

He put his hand to his chin and extended his forefinger to lay on his cheek and studied me for a while before he spoke. "Very few people have ever heard this story and the ones who did were initially shocked. I'm not sure you would appreciate the subtleties ..."

"Oh please, Mr. Emerly, we are both adults here ... I'm sure I won't be shocked, it is the 80's after all, you remember the sexual revolution and all that?"

Why had I said that? Damn, it seemed that both times I had been around this man I couldn't control my tongue at all and could barely control my toughts!

"Alright ... let me see just how open minded you are. Although I didn't loose my virginity until I was sixteen ... a good deal younger than you, my dear ... I did get my first lesson from my father and step-mother."

Okay ... this was more than I could handle ... I just didn't want to get into the middle of some dysfunctional, incestuous family skeletons ...

He watched me as my eyes grew rounder and heard my loud gasp, I was about to protest when he interrupted, "My dear, relax, it was not as you are imagining. It was quite by accident.

You see, it was in my 13th year and the war in Europe was reaching its bloody height during 1944. Although our little town paper only came out once a week, and even then it was filled almost entirely with county news, everyone kept up with the War news thanks to the radio. Of course the conflict in the Pacific had been turning our way since the Battle of Midway in 1942, but we still paid close attention to what our Marines and Navy were facing there. In Europe D-Day had been a costly, but also decisive victory, then Gen. Patton lead the Battle of the Bulge and charged at Germany with his First Armored Division. Merrill's Marauders had invaded China through India and Burma to attack at Japan's back door.

All the young men in town had either joined up in the beginning or been drafted during the years that the war drug on. Many of the young girls in town wrote to sweethearts now far away, but others had not had the chance to find a beau as they grew of age.

Dad wanted to go ... but no one was there to take care of me, and moreover because he was a farmer the government gave him a waiver because he was contributing to the war effort. It was during this summer that Dad met Millie.

He was a robust, handsome man just over 30, and Millie was the petite blonde daughter of the owner of the local mercantile. She was demure, polite, and gracious ... all the things men want in a wife. But there was one serious problem. She was only 17 years old that summer. Dad would talk to her after church while trying to keep an eye on me to make sure I wasn't putting a potato in someone's tail pipe or pretending to wrestle around with one of the other boys just so we could try to look up some girl's dress.

Millie's father wasn't too happy to see his beautiful young daughter growing fonder of this man ... he had hopes of her marrying well, living more comfortably than he could have ever afforded. As he watched helplessly, his shining star became more enamoured with this work-hardened, sun-darkened man. Worse than that! This man came with a ready made family consisting of one unruly son, 40 acres, and a clap board home barely furnished with essentials much less anything of beauty or luxury.

As they continued their courtship, Dad would take her for picnics, a movie once in a while, and Sunday afternoon drives. More often than not, they'd have to drag along Millie's little sister just to make sure they were properly chaperoned.

Millie turned 18 in October just as the leaves were turning into a magnificent cacophony of colors and the air was crisp. She and Dad then began to develop a serious affinity for each other. She loved his strength as much as he loved her gentility. She would gaze at a clean shaven, flinty jaw and became instantly aware of a tingling in her belly. He would steal a look at the soft curve of her breasts beneath a chintz dress and be physically reminded of days long ago.

He finally embraced her and as he pulled her close, she was shocked at the power of his arms and hardness of his chest ... he held her so tightly her breasts pressed against him almost to the point of hurting. She was a whirlwind of feelings ... his unyielding eyes made her hunger to do nothing but yield ... as she looked at his face, his frowning mouth almost shouted of anger and yet she wanted to silence him with her mouth ... she began to feel an unfamiliar hardness against her belly and gasped at the sensation of wetness between her legs. He could see confusion and craving battling in her eyes.

After what seemed like a lifetime, he slowly lowered his head to hers and she saw his eyes change from a violent storm to tenderness as he softly kissed her. Unwilling to relinquish her body, he held her close and rested his head among sweet smelling curls. As she curved her body into his, he realized his hopes were coming true ... she loved and wanted him, too. He asked her to marry him and she said 'yes'.

When Millie told her parents, her father was furious and her mother cried. But, she was of age now and there was nothing they could do to stop her. They pleaded and she threw a tantrum exclaiming that she would have him as her husband! They threatened to disown her and she retorted should they do so, they would never see their grandchildren. They offered to send her to New York to visit an Aunt, to see the other side of life away from this sleepy town. As she considered their offer, they were encouraged. Perhaps she would recognize life's potentials and forget this madness. It saddened them to think that she might choose to live away from them, but it was a far better alternative than seeing her shackled to a farmer and his delinquent son.

Finally, she agreed. She'd go to New York and spend a few weeks with Aunt Helen. When she came back, though ... make no mistake, she would marry William ...

I remember how she used to talk about her day dreams of their life together before they were married. Dad would come in from the fields and she'd have supper on the table. Of course, it wouldn't be like the beans and salt pork we normally ate ... it would be a proper supper. The table would be set with a cloth and linen napkins. Dishes she had read about in the ladies magazines would be prepared and rival the best cooks in the county.

He would delight in his wife's accomplishments and sweep her off her feet to kiss her face and tell her how much he loved her. As she finished supper he would bathe. As twilight fell, they would walk out to the back porch to watch a vermilion sunset against the fields. They'd stand there with their arms about each other and when the fireflies began their dance.

One afternoon her daydreams were interrupted as her mother drug a monstrous suitcase into her room to begin her packing. Of course, she'd have to tell William ... he undoubtedly would understand this little trip before she settled down to a married life.

The next day she drove to the farm and found him in the barn. He had been pitching hay and stripped his shirt to accommodate such hot and sweaty work. His glistening back was to her as she walked in and paused to let her eyes adjust to the shadowy half-light. He didn't hear her come in, so she was free to watch the muscles in his back slide and strain just under the skin. She also noticed the strength in his buttocks and the backs of his thighs as he bent over. As she walked closer, he turned and wiped the beads of sweat off his face with his handkerchief. He smiled at the vision before him. She had chosen a green silky blouse just the color of her eyes and paired with it black skirt. It was a simply cut outfit, but one that was tight at the waist and flared at both her hips and bosom. She had her hair pulled up so that loose curls fell about her pretty face and sprayed the lightest scent of cologne about her neck brfore she had left home.

She told Dad that she had come to talk to him about their wedding and his grin grew even wider ... he could hardly bear the torture until he made her his own in every way.

It was the middle of October and Millie said they should set a date toward the first of December to be wed. A scowl shadowed his face ... he had hoped that they would marry within a few days ... no more than a week or two at most!

Millie reminded him that she was getting married for the first and only time in her life! How could he possibly think that she would just run off like one of those tenant farmer girls on the outskirts of town! She wanted a proper wedding, in a proper church, with a proper dress, ring, and vows!

He softened a little as he looked as his young love. How could he deny her? Of course, they could be married in December.

As he relented somewhat, it gave Millie courage to tell him about her trip to see Aunt Helen. She used the wedding as an excuse to go to New York to pick out a dress and a few things for her trousseau. She assured him that she would be properly chaperoned and looked after by Aunt Helen. But, of course, there would be some entertainment ... dinners, and plays, and the like. Then she would come back to begin their life together.

It was obvious that Dad was rushed with thoughts and feelings ... perhaps she'd meet some younger man of standing in New York who could offer her all the things he could not ... even if she didn't meet someone, could she come back to be a farmer's wife after being exposed to all that glittered and glowed in the city? He might lose her forever and he knew he could not bear it!

His anger boiled again and he forbade her to go. She could easily acquire everything she needed through her father's store. He wouldn't have any one promised to him flitting about the city and God knows getting into what kind of mischief! His face hardened and his voice rose as he stood to face her.

I have to give her credit, though, she didn't back down. She stood face to face with him and it almost looked comical. She had to throw back her head to look him in the eye ... even if she had stood on tip-toe they would not have been equal in size.

The alabaster line of her graceful neck was strained as she looked up at him and her face began to turn the most charming shade of pink and her eyes sparked with anger. She clutched her fists and began to argue and shout at him.

She'd do anything she damned well pleased! She wasn't his wife yet! And there was no way he could stop her!

I guess Dad lost it. His anger, fear, and lust combined and conspired to take over. He lashed out, jailing her waist in his arms as his mouth covered hers. Not gently this time, like on the day he had asked her to marry him, but hard, mean and demanding.

She tried to push him away but was no match for him. She tried to scream out in protest, but his mouth would not release her. As she struggled, she became aware that he had lifted her up and her toes were barely touching the hard red dirt floor.

The more frightened she became, the tighter he held her. She tore her mouth away and ordered him to stop. He chuckled, which wasn't a laugh at all, but an audible reflection of the desire in his eyes. He said he was going to make sure that she was his ... and only his ... no matter where she went.

This was a side of him Millie had never seen and she was surprised that she was frightened of him. She was suddenly and very keenly conscious of the fact that the man she now faced was a stranger to her.

His grip didn't loosen as he backed her into the stall he had just finished filling with hay and forced her to her back. As she began to hit his chest and face she let fly with every foul name and curse she could muster and he didn't say a thing ... he just kept looking into those brilliant green eyes full of electric fury. He calmly slid one of his arms from around her waist as he gathered her two small wrists in the other massive brown hand. His leg was thrown across her almost waist high and she was hopelessly pinned to the straw. As his left hand drew her arms above her head, his right hand began to unbutton the front of her blouse. Millie only then began to realize the seriousness of the man hovering above her.