A Many Splintered Thing / Day 25: “Are you fucking her, Caleb?”

Didn't think I'd get this up before the pool but I surprised even myself. Now, I'm off for a few hours of swimming. We were invited and we accepted and now I plan to lie in a chair and pretend my life is a little bit sane for a little bit of time :)
Have a lovely day.
XOXOSommerp.s. CJ, I thought of you as I wrote this due to yesterday's comment. Heh. ;)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   Dahlia
She watched from the front room under the guise of dusting. Jasmine stood at the very edge of her vision but Dahlia liked it that way. At a glance she did not appear to be to be stalking the mistress of the house.
“What are you doing?”
Dahlia turned, clutching her feather duster. She was technically known as the ‘house manager’. She was the person who called herself a maid. Mostly because she learned growing up that if you dress up a turd you are still, sadly, stuck with a turd. And Jasmine could call her whatever she liked, she was still a maid.
“I’m dusting, Caroline.” She rolled her eyes at Harrison and Jasmine’s private chef who had also become a dear friend. Dahlia often playfully called Caroline “Cookie” as if she ran a chuck wagon.
“You’ve dusted the same picture frame for the past five minutes.”
“It’s really dirty.”
“What are you really doing?” Caroline sighed, crossing her arms. She was tall and lean in her white chef’s coat. In a position where one would expect a person a bit more rotund, she often worried that her svelte figure would discredit her food.
Dahlia had eaten her food at group meals with Caroline and her back-up staff. And those women were magic in the kitchen. Caroline’s figure didn’t discredit her food in the least.
“I’m dusting. Sort of.”
“You’re watching Jasmine. What’s up with her? Ever since the new lawn guy showed up yesterday she’s been like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”
“She’s always like that. And he’s a groundskeeper,” she said, trying not to smile.
“Okay, she’s worse, then. And that’s saying something.”
Dahlia felt her mouth twist up in an expression of displeasure. She tried really hard to fix it, but Caroline was a sharp one and the two women had become good at reading one another over the years. Caroline said, “What? Jesus, tell me!”
Just then Dahlia heard an engine catch. She looked across to the guest house and Caleb was absent from the ladder. The Spitfire went rocketing down the small service road that lead from main house to guest house. Jas’s dark hair trailed out behind her like a swiftly moving thunderstorm.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Dahlia said, dropping the duster on a butler’s tray full of sterling silver photographs. “I have to go. We’ll kill a bottle one evening and I’ll fill you in. I’ll be back,” She held her hand up trying to think fast enough to act appropriately. She was having a hard time. “Right now I think I have to go stop a murder.” She tried to laugh to show she was kidding but he laugh came out in a high, psychotic warble.
“Dahlia!” Caroline called as Dahlia darted for the door.
“What time is it?” Dahlia called back.
“Twelve-thirty.” Caroline had followed her.
“I’m taking my lunch break!” Her hand was on the knob and her mind was scrambling. There was no way she could beat Jas on foot.
“You take your lunch break with me,” Caroline said, hands on her hips.
“Rain check,” Dahlia said. “But save me some soup.”
“It’s chowder.”
“Even better.” And she was out the door, rushing to the opposite side of the house. She found the golf cart for the groundskeeper tucked back by a large bush. Out of sight, obviously, so as not to mar the beauty of master’s house. The thing cranked over right away and her heart leapt. Then she pushed the gas pedal down and took off at an alarmingly slow speed. “Great,” she muttered. “I should get there by Christmas.”
She had plenty of time, as she chugged along, to consider what the fuck she was doing. Caleb was easily six foot three and about two hundred and ten pounds. He didn’t need her to defend him. And yet, she felt that innate urge to protect him from the craziness of her boss. Even though he was familiar—intimately so, she realized with a touch of bitterness—with Jasmine’s craziness.
She finally pulled up outside the guest house and parked the cart near the front entrance. She could hear Jasmine’s voice raised in anger through the open windows.
“Fuck me,” Dahlia sighed.
She hurried toward the door, running on the toes of her boots to try and avoid announcing her arrival. Inside she heard it right off the bat. “Are you fucking her, Caleb?”
Dahlia peeked around the edge of the white ledge that led to the main room. Jasmine was in his face, her small hand clutching a hunk of his red tee.
Caleb smiled and slowly uncurled her fingers one by one. “What would it matter if I am, darling?” The word darling was practically dripping with acid and Dahlia had a shameful but wonderful moment of pride in him.
“I brought you here—“
“To fuck you, yes, I know. You brought me here to be with you is what you said. And when I got here you were once again back on board with daddy’s blueprint for your life. Which is fine. I kind of like Harrison, actually. I am, to be honest, Jas, starting to feel sorry for the man, too. If I were him, I’d have fucked a maid. Shit, I’d have fucked all the maids.”
She took a swing at him and he grabbed her small fist out of the air with ease and smiled. “You’re letting someone else rule your life and you resent the shit out of it. So you’re punishing everyone around you but the man who deserves it.” He pushed her fist down to her side and took a step back.
“Caleb—“The steam had dissipated from her words. The anger had simmered down.
Dahlia took a deep breath and pondered leaving. Until she heard him say: “And even if I was fucking her, it’s none of your business. I have no idea what I was thinking packing up and heading out here for you. I should have known you’d screw me over. However…” He laughed. “I do have a new job to show for it. And I’ve made a nice new friend.”
“Tell me!” Jasmine yelled and she took another swing at him. Caleb caught one fist but the other rocketed up toward his head. Dahlia crossed the room in three big steps and managed to block the fist. Barely.
Jas’s eyes went wide and she thrashed against the two of them. Caught almost in the middle. Pitching the biggest fucking fit Dahlia had ever seen—and she’d seen plenty.
Dahlia did the first thing that came to mind. She reached out and pinched Jasmine’s nipple as hard as she could.
Her boss let out a shriek like a cat being singed and jumped back, dropping her hands.
Caleb stared at her wide-eyed, a half-smile on his pretty, kissable mouth. Jasmine stared at her, mouth open, eyes blazing with rage.
“What the hell?” Caleb asked, choking on a laugh.
Dahlia shrugged. “I panicked. She hates that.”
Jasmine was just gathering steam, moving toward them again with malicious intent when they heard the voice.
“What in the bloody hell is going on in here?”
They all froze and turned to stare at Harrison in an outfit so ridiculous he could only be headed out for golf. Dahlia opened her mouth though she had no idea what she was going to say, but Jasmine beat her to it.
“They were arguing, Harry. And I guess I got caught in the middle. It’s my fault. I hate to see them fight.” Each word of her last sentence came out harshly as if she were spitting out pieces of gravel. “Did you come to get me for the luncheon?”
“I did,” he said, his eyes ping-ponging between the three of them. He wasn’t buying it, Dahlia thought. Not a lick.
Jasmine tucked her wild hair behind her ears, cleared her throat and went to take his arm. “Let’s go, honey. They can work it out.”
The door snicked shut and Dahlia and Caleb stood there staring at each other.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “That I intervened. I’m sure you had it under contr—“
“You pinched her,” Caleb said.
She nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes, I panicked. See once upon a time…I mean, never mind. I just knew that it would stop her in her tra—“
That was as far as she got because he grabbed her so fast and so hard it cut off her words and her breath. He pushed her down onto the largest sofa and shoved up her shirt. “You pinched her…” he said again. But she’s misread it. Initially she thought he’d been horrified, but now she heard that he was actually impressed. Incredulous, even. But then his mouth closed over her nipple and she forgot everything but the feel of him touching her.

photo credit: Kikishua via photopin cc