03 The Fate Of The Muse - Marina's Tales (26 page)

“Wow,” I looked up with a smile.

Lue and his family had been fussing over me
to the point of embarrassment, bringing me tea all day, and trying
to feed me every chance they could get. The rally and its outcome
had restored Lue’s faith in justice, and he was so grateful that it
bordered on worship. As much as I tried to give the credit to
Abby’s hard work, Lue insisted the water spirits were to thank for
his good fortune. In his mind, I was clearly their representative,
and as such, deserved an offering.

Lue came closer to the truth than I cared to
admit, but he believed what he believed, and there was no point in
arguing. Besides, the food was fantastic, and the way he was
working, Ethan needed to eat every chance he could get.

“It looks delicious,” I smiled.

He handed me a takeout container, “For Abby,”
he said with a twinkle in his eye, “Good for the baby.”

“She’ll be touched,” I said, bowing my
respects.

Lue laughed his funny little laugh like he
always did. He often seemed amused by me, as if my very presence
was somehow comically entertaining, but it didn’t bother me. He was
one of the few people in Aptos that I felt completely comfortable
around, and I respected his opinion above all others. He refused to
join us and turned to shuffle off, leaving Ethan looking at me with
a wry smile.

“The food sure is getting better around
here,” he raised his eyebrows at me, “Looks like you’re inspiring
Lue to cook more.”

I made a face at him.

“Aww, I didn’t mean it that way,” he said,
kissing my cheek and digging in.

After we ate, I walked Ethan back to his
stand, giving him a hug and telling him I should be getting going.
I’d told Abby I’d walk down to feed the cats today, and I was
thinking about slipping away to paint at my studio.

“Don’t go,” he whispered in my ear, “I like
it when you’re here with me.”

I looked over at Long watching us, and ducked
behind Ethan’s shoulder, “Sorry… But I promised Abby.”

His face fell, “Can I please stay with you
tonight?”

He looked so cute standing there,
crestfallen. Right then I decided, “How about I take you someplace
new for dinner tonight?”

He smiled, “Alright, where do you want to
go?”

“It’s a surprise… I’ll pick you up
tonight.”

“Do I have to get dressed up?” he asked
nervously.

“No. You’re fine just the way you are,” I
said, kissing his nose and hurrying off. I had some shopping to
do.

I hauled the grocery bags up the metal
staircase, hurrying down for the boxes from the kitchen store. I’d
decided to cook Ethan some Chinese food, a favorite dish of mine
that I’d learned from Li Wei, one of Evie’s most talented personal
chefs.

Li ran the best restaurant in Hong Kong, and
she would fly into San Francisco regularly to orchestrate the
sumptuous banquets served at Evie’s posh dinner parties. Under her
command, the kitchen staff always turned out an amazing variety of
elaborate Chinese dishes. I used to lurk around the giant butcher
block counter, excited by all the hustle and bustle; intrigued by
the exotic ingredients. Stern but patient, Li tolerated my childish
questions and instructed me on a few simple cooking techniques.

She taught me how to cook rice and stir fry,
taking the time to instruct me in the basic knife skills required
to make a whole menu of Chinese specialties. Eventually, she let me
carve vegetables into garnishes and centerpieces, nodding ever so
slightly when my attempts met with her approval. A nod from Li Wei
was as good as a standing ovation at the theater, and she had an
authoritative way about her that made everyone value her
approval.

I would do her proud tonight, I thought,
unpacking a new rice cooker and an electric wok. I set up a work
table and put some music on, humming to myself as I chopped the
vegetables and set out my ingredients. I arranged some fresh
flowers in the vase and started the rice, checking the clock and
smoothing my hair. I took one last glance around and left to go
pick up Ethan, locking the door behind me.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked, looking
around suspiciously as I pulled to a stop behind the coffee shop.
He was confused when I parked the Rover between a dumpster and the
fire escape in the gloomy little alley.

“Come on,” I took his hand and led him to the
stairs.

Bewildered, he followed me up, “What are you
up to now?” he asked. He sounded apprehensive.

I smiled at him, turning my keys in the lock.
“This is my new art studio,” I told him, throwing the door open
wide.

He followed me in and stood looking around
silently, finally walking over to the window to look down, “We’re
right over the coffeeshop.”

“I’m renting this place from Bill…” I
explained, “Well… What do you think?”

He turned around, taking it all in, “So this
is where you’ve been spending all your time.”

I nodded, “I needed a bigger space to make
bigger paintings.”

He took another look around with a serious
face.

“It needed a lot of cleaning up… Shayla
helped me,” I searched his eyes, unable to read his face, “I didn’t
want to put you to work…”

He came close and wrapped his arms around me,
“I knew something was up.” He sighed with relief as he slumped into
me, “I was afraid you were back to night surfing.”

“Oh,” I said, my voice small. I suppose I
should have confessed right there, letting him know that his
instincts were dead on, but I didn’t want to ruin the night with an
argument about the relative merits of day vs. night surfing. I had
no plans to stop either one.

He took my face in his hands and kissed me,
and I forgot to worry about it.

“This place could be dangerous,” he said with
a smile, looking at the big plush couch.

“The thought did occur to me,” I replied
playfully, “Now why don’t you go kick back, while I make you
dinner.”

“Don’t you want some help?” he asked, kissing
the side of my neck. He smelled so good I started to melt into him
again. I took a deep breath and steeled myself, pulling away and
pointing to the couch, “Sit. Stay.”

His eyebrows popped up in mock offense, but I
could hear him softly chuckling as I went over to check the rice
and heat up the wok. I put a teapot full of water in the microwave
and started to mince the garlic and ginger. Familiar smells filled
the air as I stir-fried the Kung Pao shrimp one ingredient at a
time, concentrating to remember the exact technique Li had shown
me. I got out a package of special Sichuan tea and put a few scoops
in the pot to steep, finally piling everything onto a bamboo tray
to bring out to Ethan.

I laid everything out on the coffee table,
lighting the candles and kneeling to pour the tea, finally
announcing, “Li Wei’s famous Kung Pao Shrimp.”

I plunked down next to him on the couch and
started to dish up two plates. He glanced at me out of the corner
of his eye, “I thought you said you couldn’t cook,” he looked
suspicious.

“No,” I faced him, “As I recall, I said, I
didn’t
cook.”

He laughed, “It smells good.”

I tasted the dish, satisfied it would earn
Li’s subtle nod of approval. Thinking of her reminded me of Evie
and I frowned, wishing she’d hurry up and get home so I could tell
her what happened. I needed to know more about Marissa and Olivia.
I had to find out which one was lying.

“What’s wrong?” Ethan asked, “This is
great!”

“Thanks,” I smiled, putting all unpleasant
thoughts out of my mind.

“So who’s Li Wei?” he asked.

We took our time eating, and I told him all
about the formidable Li, as well as some of the other five-star
chefs that would fly in for Evie’s lavish parties. Evie was
renowned for her gracious hospitality, and she liked to arrange the
food, entertainment, and decor around different themes. Whether it
was an evening in a Moroccan bazaar, or springtime in Paris, her
dinner parties always made the society pages.

Invitations to these affairs were coveted
among the arts community, and looking back, I realized just how
deftly she wielded her power, using those occasions to introduce
her latest protégées to the kinds of people that would further
their careers. Evie operated with a deliberateness born of an
undisputed faith in her own judgment.

I questioned everything about my muse powers
much more, especially after what happened with Joe and Kimo. In my
experience, people were too complex to toy with in such a fashion.
How could you be certain the people you championed didn’t harbor a
secret dark side?

We finished eating and kicked back on the
couch, drinking tea and talking about the looming school year.
Ethan was on scholarship, and he planned to take the dorm room that
came with it until we were married in January. He talked about
looking for an apartment close to the campus that we could afford
while he saved up to build our house.

“You could always come hang out here,” I said
with a smile.

“Does Abby know you have this place?” he
asked.

“No, just you… and Shayla… and Megan…”

He rolled his eyes and looked around
skeptically, setting his cup down and patting the couch next to him
invitingly. I scooted over with a smile and snuggled in under his
arm.

“That was great food,” he said, stroking my
hair, “Do you have any other hidden talents I don’t know about
yet?”

I turned my face up and kissed his cheek, “I
don’t know,” I said, “Possibly.”

He rolled towards me, wincing a little.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said, “I just tweaked my
shoulder a little yesterday.”

“How?” I asked, sitting up.

“I was planting a pretty big tree.”

“Let’s see,” I squeezed his knotted muscle
and he gasped.

“It’s just a little sore,” he said, turning
back to me for another kiss.

“Take off your shirt,” I commanded, “I’ll
give you a back rub.”

He stood up and stripped his T-shirt off,
exposing his lean and muscular torso. I gestured for him to sit and
climbed behind him on the couch. I started kneading his muscles the
way I’d seen Evie’s masseuse work her over so many times. He
groaned and grunted, shifting around uncomfortably.

“Am I hurting you?”

“In a good way,” he sighed, “Don’t stop.” He
looked over at the big paintings, “That’s Hawaii, right?”

“Yeah,” I described the warm blue waters as
best I could, all the while using my thumbs and palms to massage
every solid spot firmly until the tension dissolved. I could feel
him relax under my hands and fought the urge to start kissing his
neck. “We have to go there together someday… maybe when I sell that
painting I’ll take you.”

He stiffened ever so slightly, and I started
kneading up his neck, combing my fingers across his scalp. He let
out his breath with a long sigh, turning his face to the side, “How
about we go there on our honeymoon?”

“I don’t know if I can wait that long,” I
murmured, rubbing his neck and working back down to his injured
shoulder. The tension between us increased and grew sweetly
unbearable, until I finally had to give in to the impulse and kiss
his ear.

He turned around to take me into a warm
embrace, and I snuggled against his bare chest, “We have our whole
lives to go places together,” he murmured in my ear, “Unless you’re
planning on leaving me.”

“Why would you even say that?” I frowned.

“I dunno,” he said morosely, “The way you
freaked out about Stella… It makes me wonder if maybe you’re having
some second thoughts.”

I sat up, not sure what to say. Once again, I
found it hard to believe he would see it that way; then I
remembered how adamantly I had denied Stella’s passing. My reaction
must have looked odd to him, but the double shock of losing her
and
realizing that I’d spoken with her ghost had floored me.
Oh what a tangled web we weave, I thought. It was all because I was
hiding the fact that I’d been sneaking out to surf at night.

“No” I said firmly, “Not even for one
second.” I took his face in my hands and went nose to nose with
him, “You’re stuck with me.”

“Good.”

He clutched me to him tightly, and I pressed
my ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat speed up. I excused
myself and headed over to my little corner washroom, snagging my
tote on the way, and remembering how I’d wanted to bring him here
before leaving for Paris. I’d let Amber spoil that night, and I
gritted my teeth at the memory. She wasn’t going to come between us
ever again.

I opened the tote and pulled out the silky
nightgown set I’d bought in Paris. Overcome with a sudden boldness,
I stripped down and slipped it on. It was lacy, clingy, and
transparent, making me wonder what I could have possibly been
thinking when I picked it out. I encircled my eyes with a smudgy
liner pencil, fluffed up my hair, and daubed some perfume behind my
ears. I brushed my hair over and over again until it shone,
lingering nervously as I turned this way and that in the little
antique mirror. Finally, just when I was on the verge of chickening
out and putting my old sweats on, I took a deep breath, bit my lip,
and came around the corner.

Ethan was fast asleep on the couch, snoring
softly.

I went over to look down at him, “Ethan?” He
didn’t stir.

I sat down by his side and studied him. His
skin was tanned brown from working in the sun, and a lock of his
tousled blonde hair fell across his forehead. I brushed it back and
softly kissed his brow, drawing back to study his face. I
remembered the first time I saw him, and how handsome he was; now
that I knew him, he was even more beautiful to me.

I reached for a soft throw blanket, standing
over him and admiring his strong arms and chest before lifting up
his feet and slipping off his shoes. I covered him up with a sigh,
pulling the blanket under his chin and tucking it around his side.
He looked so perfect, sleeping peacefully, but I could see that he
was driving himself to the point of exhaustion, and I knew that it
was all my fault.