Midnight Soul (51 page)

Apparently, after a pedicure was complete,
you either had to wait some time for your varnish to dry or you
were to arrive in footwear that would not demolish the efforts your
pedicure person put into making your feet look better than they
ever had. Something you’d paid no mind to all your life. Something
that seemed, from the moment the last brush of varnish went on,
crucial to existence.

This bringing of the appropriate footwear
being something I did not do.

Noc walked me out to his car, opened the door
while still carrying me, and ducking us carefully to avoid slamming
us both into the roof, he deposited me in my seat.

Through this, I had ignored his existence, a
difficult task considering he was carrying me, but one I pulled off
with aplomb (in my estimation), until that moment when I could no
longer do so since he placed his hand on my jaw and forced me to
look at him.

He was still laughing.

This meant I began glaring.

“We’ll get you some real flip-flops for the
next time you go to a spa,” he said, continuing not to put the
slightest effort into quelling his mirth.

“I’ve been in your world not but two days and
I still can say with some authority I am
not
a
flip-flop
person,” I announced haughtily.

His waning laughter burst forth yet again and
he felt, for some reason, the need to kiss me even while allowing
the full force of his hilarity to continue to flow.

This he did.

When he ended it, he was only chuckling.

Regardless of the fact that his laughter
tasted lovely on my tongue, I was still glaring.

He took in my glare and that made him no less
amused.

“Will it help if I say you look cute, even
shuffling like an invalid?” he asked.

“No…it…will…
not
,” I snapped.

Noc. Still no less amused.

“How about if I tell you, three hours ago,
someone asked me if you could get any more beautiful, I woulda said
it was an impossibility, but I’ve been proved wrong?”

“How about if I tell you, if you remove
yourself from my vicinity, perhaps I’ll no longer wish to kick you
somewhere unpleasant?” I returned with false sweetness.

“Is it vanity, baby?” he queried, now only
grinning, which was no less annoying, “Or pride?” he finished.

“It’s both,” I admitted the complete truth
without embarrassment.

He shook his head, the grin remaining in
place. “That’s my girl. Someone says you’re cute and beautiful, you
get pissed. Or in this instance,
stay
pissed. Someone asks
if you’re vain or prideful, you claim that without a second’s
delay.”

“It’s true.”

“It is, I’m sure,” he returned. “But you’re
still cute and you’re definitely fuckin’ beautiful.”

I decided that was a good time to share
something important.

This I did.

“I think, with this conversation, that it’s
clear that even you, who I hold dear, cannot cajole me out of a
pique by saying lovely things. That even for you, my piques, as
they always have been, run deep and are lasting and require me
having time to fume before they naturally die away. So I think that
you need to kiss me, but do it swiftly, then exit my vicinity,
drive me and Josette somewhere in order to feed us and do that
immediately.”

“Even me,” he said instead of doing as I
asked.

“Even you,” I confirmed.

“Even me.”

Something in the way he said that pulled me
out of my irritation and fully into that moment.

When I arrived at that moment I saw that Noc
held no humor. He was looking into my eyes, his shining with a
light so beautiful, my soul lit in such a way it felt it would
never go dark again.

“Even you,” I whispered.

He held my gaze and worlds could have
collided. Millennium could have passed. Stars could have fallen
from the sky.

Nothing could have intruded on our
moment.

After some time (I fear, rudely, a good deal
of it), a subtle clearing of her throat brought our attention to
the fact that Josette (wearing flip-flops and having some
experience in them so she had no issues) had followed us and she
was currently sitting in the back of Noc’s vehicle.

This broke the moment, causing Noc to lean
in, touch his mouth to mine, but after he’d done that, instead of
doing the rest I’d demanded, he put his mouth to my ear.

“All my life, thirty-eight years,
only
you,” he whispered there before he promptly moved away and closed
my door.

With frozen body but shifting eyes, I watched
as he walked around the front of his car, what he’d delivered in my
ear settling with the flutter of butterfly wings around my
heart.

“I love him,” Josette whispered into the
confines of the car. “Love, love, love him,” she went on, and
before Noc opened his door, she finished, “For you.”

I did too.

By the goddess
.

I…did…too.

* * * * *

“My word, Franka, have we arrived in the lap
of the gods?” Josette asked reverently.

I didn’t answer, though if I had, my answer
might have been yes.

Noc did.

“No, babe. It’s just the Nordstrom shoe
department.”

Slowly, her head turned and her gleaming eyes
lifted to Noc.

“Can I—?” she started.

“Have at it,” he told her, tipping his head
to the vast area beyond us filled with tables and shelves covered
in a dizzyingly delightful spectacle of this-world shoes. “You find
something you like, let me know. I’ll get you a salesperson and
we’ll sort you out.”

“I love you,” she breathed, eyes still
gleaming.

I pressed into Noc’s side, my lips curved
into a deep smile.

Noc chuckled.

Josette hesitantly approached the first table
of shoes, staring at it reverently, her manner one of care, such as
you would approach a large chest tumbling over with such treasure
you couldn’t quite believe your eyes.

Noc used his arm about me to curl me to his
front. I took my gaze from Josette and lifted it to his.

“I cannot believe I’m asking you this,” he
began. “I’m thinkin’ I’m breakin’ a seal I’ll regret. But you ready
to learn how to shop?”

This confused me.

“Why would you regret this?” I queried. “You
and I both are criminally wealthy. In this world, that would be
literally. Thus I can afford to spoil myself, and Josette, without
worry.”

His lips twitched before he answered, “Right.
Probably good I explain. We’re gonna do this today. We’re gonna
kick the shit out of it. We’re gonna set you and Josette up. Fill
my Suburban with stuff that you dig that’ll make you girls happy
and make you feel more comfortable here. And until you two can get
around on your own, I have a feeling I’ll be doing that more than
once. But just to warn you, when you get used to getting around by
yourselves, you can ask me to go shopping with you once every five
years. No more, but you could go with less. And if you feel like
buying me shit, have at it. I have a feeling I’ll get off on
watching you trying on clothes and shoes. I
never
get off on
having to buy shit for myself.”

There was so much there, I had no idea how to
begin.

I wanted to comment on the “once every five
years,” but I suspected my best play with that was to let it lie
and hope that I had many opportunities in my future to hit this
quota.

So I focused on something else.

“You don’t enjoy purchasing garments for
yourself?”

“Nope.”

I was even more confused.

“But, you always look so nice. Your
selections are most attractive. They suit you completely. So much
so they’d indicate you get great enjoyment out of making those
selections.”

His eyes warmed at my words, and when I was
done uttering them, he replied, “I failed to mention, Sue, my dad’s
woman, likes to shop. Christmas and birthdays are off the hook. It
makes Dad apoplectic. He keeps telling us we’re wearing his
retirement. That doesn’t stop her. I haven’t catalogued it all, but
I’m pretty sure nothing I’ve worn since I’ve known you I bought for
myself.”

“Interesting,” I murmured.

His arm got tighter in a manner I wasn’t
certain I liked.

When I caught the look on his face, I knew I
was correct in having that feeling.

“And, just to put it all out there, Cora, the
dead one, bought me a ton of shit when I was with her working
undercover on that illegal gambling gig I was investigating.”

“Ah,” I whispered, quite in the know about
this as it, too, had been shared with me (carefully) by the lovely,
and alive, Cora, not to mention Noc had not spoken of it at length,
but he also had not shied away from mentioning it before.

“Frannie,” he called, regardless of the fact
I was right there.

“Yes?” I asked.

He was studying me closely. “Not that this is
for Nordstrom shoe department, and I can make sure Josette is good
for a while so we can go get a coffee if we need some alone time to
hash it out, but things have changed with us and,” he kept studying
me, “you seem down with that.”

“Well, I am,” I shared.

He looked dubious. “You are?”

I pressed closer.

“I am not your first lover, Noc, and you are
not mine. It would be unkind to make you feel uncomfortable and
definitely not contrite for having lovers before me, or further,
making you feel unease in mentioning them when you speak of your
life. But more, it would be a waste of words and emotion for both
of us in going over such when it’s history. We’re together now and
it’s only our future that interests me, not a study of the past we
can do nothing about.”

He grinned. “Just in case you forgot, gonna
remind you that you’re the shit, sugarlips.”

I smiled back. “Indeed I am.”

He bent and gave me a brush of the lips,
lifted his head and queried, “Can’t believe I’m askin’ you this,
but you want more shoes?”

I couldn’t believe he was asking that
either.

Thus I didn’t answer.

I just broke free, took his hand and entered
the lap of the gods.

* * * * *

I opened then closed the mirror which was
actually a cupboard in Noc’s bathroom.

I did it again.

And again.

I smiled to myself at the ingenious use of
space that included a charming hidden compartment and then opened
it again in order to put the bottles I’d purchased at the mall
inside it.

These bottles included cleanser, something I
would need to use on my own face to rid it of the paint without
Josette at Noc’s to assist me (and this, oddly, elated me).

Also moisturizing lotion, which the woman who
sold us our cleansers shared with us was a
crucial
element
in our “skincare regime,” this moisturizer having two varieties,
day and night.

And then there was toner, something which was
explained but I still wasn’t quite clear on its purpose, just that
it was vital to my skin appearing “healthy” and required Noc to
take us to a place called a “pharmacy” so we could buy “cotton
wipes” in order to use it.

The perfume I’d purchased I’d set on the
counter surrounding Noc’s basin. The bottle was far too attractive
to be hidden away in a compartment, no matter how clever that
compartment was.

“It’s called a medicine cabinet.”

I jumped at Noc’s voice and turned to see him
leaning in the doorway, watching me, a look of soft satisfaction on
his face.

I felt my spirit settle into that look and
asked softly, “Why is it called that?”

“You put what you put in it just now, but it
was invented back in a day when there wasn’t much of that stuff.
Mostly it was where you stored medicine.”

“Ah,” I murmured, watching him and not moving
because he was not moving, just standing in the doorway, leaning
his shoulder into the jamb, his eyes gentle on me.

It was, of course, after our trip to the mall
and Noc had returned Josette to Valentine’s, where she assured us
she was quite happy to experiment with her newly-acquired skills
with the microwave in order to make her supper that night and again
watch the television. “Where I learn much of this world,” she’d
said.

I felt some guilt, however, for I knew she
was saying such with only a hint of truth. Mostly, she wanted to be
certain Noc and I had time together.

This was her adventure too, and as such she
shouldn’t be spending it sitting in an empty house (for Valentine
again was not there upon our return or even when we’d left), eating
alone and watching a box, no matter how interesting what played on
it was.

But for now, I was back at Noc’s where he
said he’d make me dinner while I put away the purchases I’d made to
keep at his home and where I’d be sleeping.

Needless to say, Josette and I very much
enjoyed our time at the mall. We’d done as Noc said we’d do,
filling his Suburban to the brim with our bags.

In other words, there was a good deal for me
to put away.

And I had been doing just that while Noc had
been in his kitchen cooking.

I was surprised he had these skills but only
because, in my world, a man such as him would have servants to do
these things for him.

In this world, it seemed everyone cooked for
themselves, which I found most odd and vaguely alarming for there
might come a time when I was expected to do the same and I had no
desire to do so.

I didn’t think much on that. I thought simply
of going through my marvelous purchases and putting them away while
I smelled the pleasant aroma of Noc’s efforts filling the
house.

“Is dinner ready?” I queried when Noc said
nothing and continued not to move.

“Not quite,” he replied.

I tipped my head to the side and asked
quietly, “Is all well?”