A Many Splintered Thing / Day 11: “First off, I’m not fucking you,” she said.

Happy Saturday. I'm chilling--sort of. Taking it easy today--kinda. I'm almost done Bird Box (see yesterday), raring to start The House of Small Shadows (see yesterday) and looking forward to my evening Pimm's cup on the veranda (which is my porch. in my pajamas, no less). Here's day 11 of AMST. If you don't know what's going on...again...see yesterday! 
XOXOSommer~~~~~~
She didn’t say anything. Not a word. She gave a brisk nod and walked right past them and opened the red front door. Then she was gone.
“Well, she’s friendly,” Caleb said.
He caught Jasmine studying him. Her eye were narrow and her mouth was set. She didn’t look happy. 
“I don’t pay her to be friendly.”
“Good, because you’re not getting your money’s worth.”
“Why don’t you get your stuff and come inside. I’ll introduce you two and explain a few things.”
That made a cool sensation flow down his spine. It felt like wariness. “What does that mean?”
“What?”
“Explain a few things?”
She shrugged, not looking at him. “Get your stuff,” she repeated. He knew he was in deep shit when she avoided his eyes again and called out to the dog. “Come on, Alice. Come see your new house.”Even the dog looked confused, but she loped forward slowly. It was clear from her body language that she was hesitant but game as long as the woman didn’t make any sudden moves.
Caleb opened the back of the Wagoneer, got his bag, and stuck his keys in his pocket. He’d come back and get Alice’s kibble. First he needed to go meet the woman with the scars.
Jasmine was standing very stiffly inside the front door. She acted as if she were in the maid’s home instead of the maid was living in hers. This made Caleb like Dahlia before they’d even spoken. Anyone who could intimidate Jasmine into silence was impressive.
He almost chuckled when Jas jumped as he entered. She was definitely on edge.
Jasmine stood on the red tile that was directly inside the front door. The entire guest house seemed to be done in cream and jewel tones. Very Native American, down to the throws on the back of the clay colored sofa and an arm chair the same shade as good Dijon mustard.
“Is this him?” Dahlia asked, walking past them into the kitchen. She came back with two bottles of water. She cracked open one and tossed the other to Caleb.
He was startled but managed to pluck it from the air without embarrassing himself.
He liked her even more.
Jasmine cleared her throat. She clutched her hands in front of her like a small child in a Spelling Bee. “Dahlia, this is Caleb. Caleb, this is Dahlia. Dahlia lives here and now so do you. Dahlia also is…is the woman.”
He waited for Jasmine to finish the sentence. The woman who makes me pee my pants. The woman who will show you around. The woman who is already inspiring dirty thoughts in your thick, willful head…
“The woman…?” He left the question hang there.
Dahlia surprised him by laughing. For an intimidating looking person she had a lovely, musical laugh. “Jesus, Jasmine. You haven’t even told him?.”
“I’ve told him, I just haven’t told him it was you.” Jasmine looked both annoyed and embarrassed.
“Does someone want to actually tell me or am I just supposed to stand here looking stupid?” He smiled at Dahlia, taking advantage of her apparent amusement. “Handsome, mind you, but stupid.”
Jasmine huffed and for some reason the sound made Caleb happy. For all the fucked-up-ness she had brought to his life in the last week she deserved to huff. He knew it was petty but so be it.
Dahlia’s eyes flickered to her boss and then back to Caleb. When they landed on him, he thought he saw them grow a bit brighter. More interested. He’d probably imagined it but a guy could still hope. She reached toward him and he felt something similar to an electrical current travel his skin. She took his hand in hers and shook once.
“First off, I’m not fucking you,” she said. “But nice to meet you.”
He blinked, but being a smart ass of epic proportions according to Bob and Belinda—the closest thing to actual parents he’d ever had—he recovered quickly. “Well, that saddens me, but seeing as we’ve only been acquainted for one second, I can live with that. Understand it, even.”
Jasmine snorted and Caleb recognized petty meanness surging through him. He continued, “But don’t expect me not to undertake a massive effort to change your mind.”
Something flickered in Dahlia’s eyes. Bright blue like an October sky, he noted. “Do your worst. I doubt you’ll get far.”
Caleb found himself clutching his chest, a motion he hoped appeared comical but he was worried to note was sincere. That did not bode well for him in his new home with this strange but intriguing woman.
“Can someone tell me, though, why it’s relevant that you won’t fuck me?”
“Because I’m supposed to be the mystery woman you came to Santa Barbara to be with. That’s what she told Harrison.”
Caleb turned to Jasmine, his mind whirling. She shrugged. “I had to think fast. You know I’m not a good liar. I‘m not creative at spinning tales. I told him you’d met someone, then I panicked and said you were coming here because I knew her. Then I panicked more and said because, of course, trying to be nice, I’d introduced you.”
Caleb frowned. Alice, tired of exploring, came to sit at his feet. She stared up at him and now, officially, all eyes were on him.
But Dahlia broke the spell. She took another long drink of water and said, “And then I had the misfortune to walk into the room and she blurted out that it was me who she’d introduced to you. Via the internet, no less.
“What did you do?” Caleb asked, sincerely curious.
“I kept my mouth shut because I had no clue what was going on. And though I find Jasmine challenging and exhausting…I like my job.”
Caleb looked at Jasmine to see how she was dealing with someone, a subordinate, no less, speaking about her that way. She looked frustrated but resigned.
There was a story here. For sure. But that was for another time.
“So, to sum up, Harrison will be stopping in. I’m supposed to be with her.” He pointed to Dahlia who smirked at him. “You introduced us,” he said, pointing to Jasmine.
Jasmine gave a short nod.
“I now actually have a job, under this roof, where I have to—at least when Harrison is around—pretend to be in love with her,” he pointed at Dahlia. “And I’ll see you on a regular basis but you’re back with your husband. Who thinks I’m here because I’m in love.”
“And I won’t fuck you,” Dahlia said.
“And she won’t fuck me,” he added, suppressing a laugh. It was so comical, so bizarre, it could have been a movie.
“Basically,” Jasmine said.
Then they all turned toward the door because tires were crunching over gravel. Harrison had arrived.


photo credit: Diamond Farah via photopin cc