Silver Oranges

Jaelle's mouth moved across Elise's lips and kissed along her jaw line. Elise moaned and tipped back her head slightly, as Jaelle's lips moved down her neck and back up against her ear. She shivered as she felt Jaelle's hot breath tickle inside her ear.

"You are so beautiful, Elise" Jaelle whispered hoarsely "So smooth to touch"

Elise's hands were gripping the hair behind the gypsy's head, Jaelle's hands moved forwards over Elise's stomach. Jaelle leaned slightly back, watching Elise's face, as she slowly slid her hands upwards, and over the silky bra, as if measuring the fullness and weight of Elise's breasts in the palm of her hands. She felt Elise's chest rising as her breath started to quicken under Jaelle's touch. Jaelle smiled slightly as a moan escaped Elise's lips, while she ran her thumbs over Elise's hardening nipples.

Their eyes locked, as Jaelle gently pushed Elise back and pulled her sweater over her head. Elise did not resist, wanting to feel Jaelle's hands on her breasts again. With half closed eyes she watched as Jaelle gently pushed up her tank top and bent over to kiss her stomach. Jaelle continued moving the material up and over Elise's bra, then cupping her hand under each breast, bent her mouth down to kiss Elise's nipples through the silky confines of her bra.

"I'm going to fall in love with you if you keep doing that."

The words caused Jaelle to stop. This wasn't what she wanted. Not with Elise. With her, she wanted different. She didn't want just sex, she wanted perfection.

Jaelle sat back, straightening Elise's clothes and then searching out the bottle of Tokay. Elise gathered herself and sat up straight.

"Did I do something wrong?" She was on the verge of tears.

"No," Jaelle stared into the fire "You didn't do a thing wrong." Her voice was soft.

Elise pulled back in her seat, tucking her legs beneath her. She reached for the bottle from Jaelle.

"I don't understand."

Jaelle ran her hands through her hair. The sound of her bracelets rang through the silent woods, temporarily taking away from the crackling sound of the fire, like church bells breaking the silence on a winter's night.

"It's not you. You didn't do anything wrong." she took back the bottle from Elise "I just can't."

Elise blinked back tears. Her face grew cold as the air hit the wetness on her cheeks.

Jaelle stood and picked up a small pail from behind the bench and walked to the stream to fill it. She poured water over the fire, dousing the flames.

"It will snow soon. We should go."

They left the woods, riding back to town together in the wagon with no more words exchanged between them except, a quick 'goodnight'.

~ ~ ~

The fire was warm and welcoming. Her grandmother handed her a bowl of soup. She knew how to make everything right. Since the death of her mother and her father travelling, she had depended on her grandmother for stability.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or am I going to have to pry it out of you, as usual?" The old woman sat on the well worn couch, prayer beads in one hand and a glass of palinka in the other. She knew something was wrong. Her granddaughter could never hide things from her, no matter how hard she tried. "It's a matter of the heart, isn't it? You have deep feelings for this One."

Jaelle rose from her spot in front of the fireplace and sat down next to her grandmother. She moved to lay her head upon her lap like she did as a child. The old woman stroked her hair with gnarled hands.

"Very deep. I didn't expect it to be . . . I liked her . . . something about her made me feel…safe."

"So why are you here with me?"

"I messed things up. I pushed her away from me."

The old woman placed her fingers beneath her granddaughter's chin and lifted her head.

"What are you afraid of, Child?"

Jaelle could not meet her eyes. She turned her head away and sat up, looking into the fire. It was solace to her, watching the flames dance without inhibition or remorse. The flames were free and fierce.

"I'm not afraid of anything, Grandmother, you know me."

"I know you well enough to know you are not speaking from your heart." The old woman took a drink from her glass and offered some to her granddaughter. "You were always my puzzle."

"I'm not a puzzle. Gypsy women are taught to be enigmas . . . taught to keep our secrets."

"Yes, from outsiders, but not from one another." The old woman ran her hands along her beads "I pray for you, you know that? I pray that your heart will not be so restless. Even as a child you ran away from things that bothered you. Yet, you were always honest even though you would not proclaim to be so. I knew you Jaelle, I knew you did not steal and yet you went to prison to proclaim your innocence. You carry the mark."

The old woman shifted in her seat. "I used that boy's guilt upon him to confess. He sinned. You did not. I made the magic work. You have the magic inside you."

"I kept the faith inside me. I felt you with me. I had your amulet to protect me."

"Then tell me child, tell me now what is in your heart."

Jaelle paused, thinking about what she wanted to say . . . what she desired in her heart.

"I love her. I didn't want it to happen, but it did. I feel her so deeply within my soul, as if I had always known her." Jaelle threw herself on the old woman's lap and cried deeply.

"I always knew you would love too hard and not feel worthy of that love." She pulled Jaelle up to her and held her close "You are like your mother. She too, loved too hard. She loved your father until the end. I never saw such a fierce love as the one I saw in her."

"Is it a curse? Is this how it's supposed to be?" Jaelle lifted her head. "I don't know if she could love me that way. I don't even know her that long, but at the same time I don't think I know how to live without her."

"Tell me."

"It doesn't make sense. She's American; she's not even going to be here much longer. She's not like me, Grandmother, she is logical and analytical. She doesn't follow her spirit."

"And from when did that define love?" She took Jaelle's face in her hands. "You both think with your heads and ignore your hearts. Stop being so stubborn. Tell her how you really feel, Jaelle."

"I can't."

"What are you afraid of, Child?"

"Love."

~ ~ ~

Elise lay on the cold tile floors of the bathroom. She had woken up shivering. It would have been easy to blame the alcohol from the night before on making her sick, but she knew it wasn't just that. She had become accustomed to drinking since arriving in Budapest. It was the events from the night, the feeling of rejection and almost declaring that her feelings for Jaelle were stronger than she wanted to admit, that made her head pound and her stomach turn.

Crawling across the small floor she turned on the water for a hot bath. She hoped it would relax her and dissolve her headache. She slipped out of her clothes, and carefully touched her foot into the water, and winced, as she lowered herself into the steamy bath. She let the heat seep into her skin, her soul and her mind. She melted into the water, as she thought about the night before. What did she do wrong? Jaelle wanted her, she could feel it, but yet she stopped. Maybe it was from all the drinking? Maybe Jaelle wasn't really attracted to her?

She cupped her hands, filling them with water and splashing it over her face. A cleansing, that is what she needed, to be clean of the memory of Jaelle's rejection. As she passed her hands over her skin she remembered how Jaelle's hands had felt on her. Her wild hair, soft against her face, the smell of her skin and the taste of her mouth flooded her senses.

"Why do I allow her to affect me this way?" Elise pondered "Why is it, that all I want to do, is be with her, talk to her, hear her voice and her laughter? She even got me to dance. And I liked it"

There had been something about Jaelle from the first moment, when their eyes met in that little café. She had never felt that before about, or with anyone. Maybe Jaelle was right about magic. What if everything wasn't tangible or logical or supposed to make sense? If people can believe in Gods they can't see, then why couldn't she believe that this . . . that this, was meant to be, between her and Jaelle?

"Take the dare." she heard her grandfather's voice. He would tell her that often when she was a child and fear would hold her back from the simplest things.

"Yes Grandfather, I'll take the dare."

She left the warm water, dried herself and put on her old comfy robe. She walked to the window, surprised to see snow gently falling. Jaelle did say something about snow. She glanced over at her alarm clock and noticed that it was close to dinnertime. Food was the next thing to cross her mind and some good coffee. She shuffled through her suitcase, and found a t shirt and a sweater to put on over her jeans. As she stuffed her feet into her boots, she could smell the earth from the stream. Her jacked still lingered of smoke from the fire, the night before.

"Maybe I should call Jaelle and invite her for coffee" she thought, and then remembered she didn't have a phone number or even and address. "I don't even know her last name." She sighed as she put down the phone book. Elise suddenly realized there was a lot she didn't know about Jaelle. "In many ways, she is still a stranger to me"

She pressed her forehead to the cold window, and stared out over the streets, thinking about how somewhere in the city, there was Jaelle. What was she doing? Was she as wounded as Elise? She decided to dine alone, with her thoughts for company. And she would take her laptop and throw herself into her work, if need be. Anything, to stop this feeling, even if just for a little while.

~ ~ ~

"You're going to have to tell her, Jaelle." The old woman sat knitting the last few threads into a scarf she was making as a Christmas gift. "You can't let her go on without knowing, it's not fair if she has the same feelings as you do."

Jaelle sighed as she painted a face on the wooden doll she had carved for her youngest cousin. "I know, I know. I just don't know how. Besides, she'll be leaving after the New Year. I'll probably never see her again."

"Who is that speaking?" the old woman peered over her reading glasses "My granddaughter was never one to make excuses for anything." She set the knitting down and stared at Jaelle. For a moment she saw her own daughter sitting at the same spot at the table making gifts. Jaelle was headstrong and spirited just like her mother. Except Sonja was more organized, more orderly and precise. Jaelle was smart like her mother as well, but unlike Sonja, Jaelle would dive in head first to any situation. "She's not Roma, child. She doesn't know our way."

"She's different from the others, she's smart and funny and she's very open to things." Jaelle set the doll down and stood up to get some tea for both of them. "She'll understand."

"You put the family at risk. For me, I'm old and I don't care, but think of your father, his reputation. It's not just about you, it's about all of us. Are you willing to live with that?"

Jaelle set a cup of tea in front of her grandmother and went back to her gift making. "Can we talk about something else?"

Her grandmother pulled out another skein of yarn and began knitting again.

"We can talk about anything you like. The weather, the holidays, your cousin Jakob's new girlfriend. She'll make him a good wife I think, big bones, strong for bearing many children. "

The old woman wrapped the yarn around her needle. " I think after the holiday's I'll start making a quilt." she paused to sip her tea "The problem will still be there until you deal with it, Jaelle, but if you want to talk about the small things, that's fine."

"I need some air." Jaelle put on her coat and left the house. She started walking to nowhere in particular. The snow was still falling gently and sticking to the ground. She wished Elise was walking next to her, holding her hand. The snow began to stick to her hair. She moved near the shadows of a building, reached into her pocket for her papers and a pouch filled with herbs and tobacco - her father's mix. Jaelle rarely smoked unless the occasion warranted. Sprinkling the mix and deftly rolling the cigarette, she lit a match and cupped her hands around the flame. She inhaled deeply holding the smoke in her lungs for a while and then slowly exhaled. She watched as the smoke mingled with the falling snow. The herbs cleared her head and relaxed her. She muttered to herself, as she closed her eyes. The familiar words of prayers in an ancient language, a spell for protection and an invocation for guidance spilled from her lips. She took one last drag on her cigarette, and tossed the butt into the street.

She walked along the snow covered streets, to the place she knew she would find peace. The snow blanketed the pathway, muffling the sound of her footsteps. It was falling fast enough to cover any trace of her. She didn't know why she was worried about being followed. It was late and most people were home in bed, safe and warm. Besides, she thought, no one would follow her there, especially not at night.

She pulled the gate open slightly, and squeezed through. Even though the ground was covered with snow, she knew exactly where she was going. She bent down, and brushed her hand over the cold stone. The snow was light and moved easily.

"Hello Mama." She traced her finger over her mother's etched name "I've come to talk."

~ ~ ~

"Excuse me, Miss Elise?" The man appeared in front of her table, "Would you care for more coffee or for something else to drink?"

Elise was surprised by the man's soft voice, "Oh, another coffee, please? Do you have any of your mother's cookies left?"

He smiled widely "Of course we do. She is so happy to know you like them."

He made his way back to behind the counter, for Elise's coffee and cookies. She pushed her laptop away from her, leaned back in her chair, and stretched. She glanced down at her watch, and noticed that she had been there for almost three hours. The man appeared with her coffee and a plate of cookies. He set down a small paper bag. "A gift from mother, she said you can have them for your snack tonight"

"Thank you, Viktor, that's very sweet. I'm sorry I've been holding up this table so long, I didn't realize the time. I'll have my coffee and leave."

He waved his hand, "No, no." he turned to the window, "You see the snow? People here love to walk in the first snow of the season. We will be open all night. There are no time limits here, Miss Elise, we enjoy your company and it's good for business to have such a beautiful woman sitting in our little café."

"You're a charmer, Viktor." Elise raised her cup to the gentleman.

"Jaelle is not joining you this evening?"

Elise thought for a moment, "No, she's probably at the marketplace tonight. You know, Christmas is just around the corner and I'm sure she must be busy." She set her cup down noisily. "We're just friends. I mean, not that we wouldn't be or that we could be anything else. What I meant was, we're very friendly . . . I mean - she's very friendly. She's nice." She picked up a cookie and took a quick bite. "You said this is an old family recipe?"

The bell over the door rang as a trio of customers came in, covered with snow. "Saved by the bell" thought Elise. She wondered about Jaelle and where she was . . . what she was doing right now. She's probably out partying with friends. She didn't know why it mattered to her anyway. It's not like Jaelle was obligated to keep her entertained. Elise was a foreigner, a temporary guest in this country. Why should she be so upset?

She sipped her coffee and ate another cookie. She watched a couple kiss in the corner, and thought about how soft Jaelle's lips were when they had kissed. Her hair. .. how she had loved the feel of her fingers entangled in Jaelle's wild, dark hair. She told herself to stop it, and that it wasn't meant to be. She probably had some other lover, or maybe even a few, scattered through the city.

She stared out the window at the falling snow, and her mind went back to the firelight and sitting so close to Jaelle. The way she had touched Elise, . . . God, it made her shiver again, remembering hands gliding over her skin. She wanted nothing more than to give herself over to Jaelle in that way again.

They broke out into laughter and then someone started singing a Christmas carol. She felt alone. "You're pathetic . . . " she told herself " . . . sitting here, sulking alone, when you could be out with someone who makes you happy.

She decided she was going to be daring. Tomorrow, maybe.

~ ~ ~

Jaelle quietly closed the door behind her, took off her wet shoes and hung up her coat. She walked into the small living room to find her grandmother still knitting.

"You don't need to sneak into the house."

"I wasn't sneaking, I thought you would be sleeping and I didn't' want to wake you." She sat down on the sofa, tucking her feet beneath her and warmed herself near the fire.

"Did she answer your questions?" her grandmother asked without stopping her knitting.

"How did you know I would go there?"

"I know you go there when you are troubled. Either there or to the stream."

"Remind me never to try and rob a bank." Jaelle sighed. "And yes, she did."

The old woman set the knitting on her lap and stared at her granddaughter. She could tell by the look on Jaelle's face that she knew in her heart what she needed to do. "Your mother had that same look when she was about to marry your father." She shifted in her chair, stretched her legs and finished her tea.

"She stared into that same fireplace for hours on end."

"You're saying she followed her heart?" Jaelle rested her head on one arm.

"No, she followed tradition and religion and saving face."

Jaelle sat upright, "Are you saying she didn't love my father?"

"No, she loved him. She just didn't make her own choice."

"You know the consequences, Grandmother. Is it worth the risk?" She slumped into her seat and stared back into the fire.

"Jaelle, your mother knew the risk as well and she chose what was right, but not what was right for her. I'm not saying her life with your father was bad. They had a good marriage and when you were born, no mother could have been happier. You were her greatest joy. Knowing that you were going to college, filled her heart with such pride and hope. She raised you to be headstrong and independent. Her love for you was so great that she is imprinted on your soul. Do what you feel is right; do what your heart wants, Child. No matter what you choose, I will always love you."

Jaelle rose from the sofa and knelt before her grandmother. She took the old woman's hand in her own, held it to her cheek and wept. "I love you, Grandmother."

The old woman held the younger woman's face in her hand, wiped her tears with her thumb and smiled. "You are my joy as well. Now, we need to get some sleep. My old bones need rest, the holiday is almost here and we have much to do."

Jaelle rose up, holding her hands out to lift the old woman from her chair and wrapped her arms around her. "I'll clean things up. You go to sleep." She kissed the old woman's cheek and watched as she stiffly walked to her bedroom.

She walked over to the sofa and lay down. Pulling a shawl over her legs, she watched the dying fire until her eyes could no longer stayed open.

~ ~ ~

An overfriendly cat rubbed against Elise's leg as she stood motionless outside the front door. Her eyes were focused on the scrap of paper in her left hand. The strange grouping of familiar English letters had been her focus ever since the old woman had handed her the address. She had made it her mission to find the place herself, without the help of any of the locals. It had given her something concrete to focus on - something other than the unfamiliar feeling of wild abandonment coursing through her veins. It scared her. But at the same time, it felt oddly enticing.