Chapter Two

“I CAN’T BELIEVE you got such a good deal on the rent.” Nico placed the box labeled “kitchen” on the narrow countertop.

“I’m probably going to regret it when I’m working my ass off fixing the walkway and the terrace wall the storm took out. Sticks and Stones has a good chance of winning the bid from the city to redo the walkways and landscaping downtown.”

“Who needs sleep? We’ve been busy as hell with all the repairs. I heard Dale had to hire another two crews to keep up with everything.”

“There’s water in the fridge if you want.”

Nico opened the door and pulled out two bottles of water. He placed one on the counter before he cracked the seal on his bottle. He tipped the bottle back and took a long swallow. “When’s the first party?”

Julia used her hip to lever a plastic tote to the top of a stack of other totes to make a path between the cardboard boxes and storage containers. “Not anytime soon.” She lifted the edge of her T-shirt sleeve and wiped the sweat from her forehead before she crossed to the small kitchen area in the studio apartment.

“Have you driven by the Arboretum? There’s a fifty-foot-wide ditch where the tornado touched down. They lost so many trees. The arch where Tony and I got married? Gone. It looks like a war zone.” Nico rested his hands on his hips and leaned back into a stretch.

“Thanks for helping me.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, the rest is just little stuff and my tools for the studio.”

“Can I see it? Tony wants me to convert our garage into a studio. Some asshole bought the building he’s been renting and is kicking everyone out so he can put in some fast-food places.”

“Like we need one more burger place. Fuck that.” Julia dug the keys for the garage out of her pocket. She led him down the stairs to the six-car garage under her apartment.

After unlocking the door, she flipped the overhead light switches. The faint smell of gasoline and motor oil lingered in the wide space. The concrete floor was stained and cracked. Wooden shelves, built-in tool cabinets, and workbenches with wide shallow drawers lined the sidewalls.

“Look at that joinery. When was this built?”

“Nineteen twenty-four.”

“People must have had a fuckton of money. Damn.”

“They even had their own gas pump. The original owners owned half of downtown.”

“Is that knob and tube?” Nico frowned at the outdated wiring still present in the ceiling. “That needs to be torn out. Look at where it’s burned through the insulation.”

“Yeah. It’s the old stuff. They didn’t remove it when they replaced the wiring. Don’t worry, it’s all updated. When Gerald and Lian bought in the ’80s, they gutted most of it, modernized everything in the house and out here. That firethorn maze we passed, that’s original to the estate. Covers the acre between here and the mansion. You should see the path. It’s hand cut cobblestone. Some of it’s trashed. Gerald bartered rent for repairing it.” Julia raked her hand through her hair. “I have no fucking clue where I’m going to source cobblestones to match. The wall around the terrace will be easy. Henderson’s tearing down an old bank barn and he’s going let me salvage the foundation.”

“I fucking hate firethorn. My grandma had a hedge of it around her yard. I can show you scars from when she used to have me trim it. And stop stressing, you’ll find something.” Nico gestured to the overhead engine hoist. “That’ll come in handy.”

“Right? No more using rollers to get my sculptures into the truck.”

Nico walked to the far side of the garage. “Look at that.” He picked up the receiver of a telephone and dusted it off before he lifted it to his ear. “Damn, it’s got a dial tone.” He held out the receiver.

“No kidding?” Julia crossed to where he stood.

Nico offered her the phone. “Listen.”

She pressed her ear to the receiver. “A working landline.”

“Why?”

“Who knows? Maybe they just pay the bill and don’t think about it.” Julia replaced the phone handset.

“Maybe. Tony has a showing at Rensler Hall next week. You down for helping us set up?”

“Sure. Message me the time.”

 

A WALL OF white blossoms covered the tall thick hedge. The shiny green leaves were interspersed with thick thorns. At least fifteen feet tall, the hedge crowded both sides of the cobbled walkway. Julia edged closer to Gerald. “Those thorns look lethal.”

“They can take a bite out of you.”

They strolled along the path, shaded from the spring sun. Julia peered into various openings and paths in the maze. The dense hedge formed a wall blocking the view of the other walkways within the maze. “Do you have a map of this? I don’t want to get lost in here.”

“No. But there’s a trick to finding your way through it.” Gerald pointed to the path. “Look at the pattern in the stone.”

Julia shifted her gaze to the stones. “I’m not seeing it.”

Gerald squatted next to an intersection in the hedge and brushed his fingers over the cobblestone. “The path to the center of the maze and then out the other side has three narrow gray stones every other row.”

Julia kneeled next to him and traced her fingers over the worn stone. “It’s so subtle.”

“Indeed.” He chuckled. “It was three years after we moved in when Nüwa noticed the clue. She loved playing in the maze. I spent more than one afternoon chasing Nüwa through here playing hide and seek.”

They stood, then continued their walk through the maze. Julia fixed her eyes on the path. “Even when you know the secret it still would be easy to get lost.”

“You’ll get it. Then you won’t have to take the long way around to the house.”

They arrived at the center of the maze. Out of the shadow of the hedge, the sun shone brightly. Julia blinked as her eyes adjusted to the change in light. In the center of a paved plaza was a wide pond fully twenty feet across, surrounded by six benches. The stonework pavers around the fountain were broken in places and rough. Julia frowned at the condition of the patio, in such sharp contrast to the paths in the maze. In places it looked as if someone had taken a hammer to the stone. Julia picked her way over the shattered and broken cobbles. A low wide stone wall surrounded the pond.

An ornate bronze sculpture stood in the middle of the pond. A crane standing in a nest feeding two baby birds at its feet, with a second adult crane standing with its wings outspread over the group rested atop a marble pedestal. The details on the bronze were exquisite, capturing the protectiveness of the standing crane and the nurturing nature of its mate as they cared for their young.

“That’s your bronze. The one from your office.”

“It is.”

“I remember.” Julia walked in a slow circle around the pond. “It’s even more amazing in large scale.” A large solar panel on a short post connected to a pump was tucked at the back of the sculpture.

“The overall shape of the maze is a classical circuit spiral with eight paths instead of the usual seven.” Gerald gestured to the hedge openings surrounding them. The eight openings were evenly spaced and opened onto the plaza.

A fountain bubbled at the base of the bronze in the middle of the pond. Dormant stems of waterlilies crowded the surface. Below the dark water a flash of gold and white caught Julia’s attention. “What do you do with your fish in the winter?”

“They’re fine as long as we keep at least one hole in the ice. The pond is over ten feet deep in the center. The original owners had a passion for koi. Nüwa named them all when we moved here. They would eat out of her hand. This was her favorite place when she was a girl.” A wistful tone seeped into Gerald’s voice.

Julia pushed aside hope Nüwa would appear, and she’d have another opportunity to speak with her. The fountain in the center of the pond bubbled gently, the splash of the water hypnotic and soothing. Julia studied the surface of the pond. Multicolored fish, some longer than her forearm, breached the surface as they played in the spray from the fountain. Amidst the towering hedge with its inch long menacing thorns, the pond was a peaceful oasis. Julia stared at the water. The image Gerald described of Nüwa gave way to an adult version of Nüwa wrapped in her beautiful flowing robe, playfully feeding Julia.

In Julia’s daydream, Nüwa would have her kneel, clip Julia’s bracelets behind her back, tease her fingers over Julia’s throat, feed her a sweet treat, following it with an even sweeter kiss. Julia had mentally replayed her long afternoon with Nüwa in the storm cellar at least once a day for the last two weeks.

Gooseflesh raised on her arm as the memory of Nüwa’s touch on her wrist bubbled up. Julia shoved her hands into her front pockets and mentally shook herself. What the hell was wrong with her, fantasizing about a woman she met once by chance? Nüwa was probably already back in her New York apartment, their brief encounter a distant memory. Silly to read more into it. People in forced proximity did all kinds of things they wouldn’t normally do. Stalled elevators, delayed flights, and snowstorms created all kinds of one-off intimacy. It didn’t mean anything.

Gerald sat on the bench nearest them. He patted the space next to him. Julia crossed the cobbles and sat on the end of the bench. The wrought iron was cool through her jeans.

“Magical, isn’t it?” He gestured to the pond. “When we looked at this place, this is what made me push to buy it. Lian thought I had lost my mind. But she agreed, and even after forty years we’ve never regretted it.”

“Does Nüwa still come down to the pond to feed the fish when she visits?” At Gerald’s raised eyebrow, Julia knew her tone had indicted her more than passing interest.

“No.” Gerald tilted his head and held Julia’s gaze. “Nüwa doesn’t leave the house.”

He pressed his lips together in a thin line and knotted his hands in his lap. He shifted his gaze to the pond.

Gerald’s distress was evident, and Julia’s stomach twisted in on itself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Gerald continued to stare straight ahead. “No. I wanted to have this discussion. Lian was against renting to you. She’s very private about Nüwa. Always worried about preserving appearances. Nüwa lives with us.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand. “Nüwa struggles with…” He turned to Julia and braced one hand on the back of the bench. “She’s not left our home in four years.” He stood and flung his hands wide. “Even to come here. A place she once told me she never wanted to leave.” Anguish twisted his features. “I believe you’re discreet. You were a careful and prudent student. I trust whatever you see or hear will stay private.”

“Of course.” Julia pressed her lips tight against all the questions she wanted to ask.

Gerald pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll give you my personal number. If you have any questions, or want to discuss anything you don’t understand, call me. Don’t bother Lian, or Nüwa.”

Julia withdrew her phone and added Gerald’s number. “Thank you. Do you have a deadline for when you want the work completed? It may take me a while to source the stone.” She pointed at the custom cut stone of the path that would lead out of the maze. “This spiral design and the angles will be fiddly, and it will take some work to make them match the original.”

“Whenever you finish it.” Gerald lifted a shoulder. “It’s not like anyone comes here other than me, or the landscaper.”

“Thank you. And thank you for the opportunity.” Julia tapped her phone against her palm. “If you have something else to take care of, I’ll be fine. I’m going to take some photos and measurements.”

Gerald glanced at his watch and sighed. “I do have some grading I’ve avoided.”

“Do professors hate grading as much as students hate turning papers in?” Julia teased, ready to lighten the mood between them.

“More!” Gerald laughed. “Will you be at the opening at the Rensler?”

Julia worked on keeping her expression neutral. “I didn’t get my piece finished in time to enter. But I’ll be there to support Tony. I love his work.”

Gerald rested his hands on his hips. “One thing. Working for me should not interfere with your art. This stonework has been broken for years. It gets fixed when it gets fixed. We don’t depend on the rent to eat. We like to keep the cottage occupied simply to have other eyes on the property. Understand?”

Julia had a flashback to the exacting professor who had pushed her to grow as an artist and a student. “Understood.”

 

“YOU’RE MEETING WITH your counselor today?” Lian tipped the pan and filled Nüwa’s bowl with breakfast noodles. She slid the dish toward Nüwa.

The rich garlic and ginger scent of the stir-fried noodles filled the kitchen. Nüwa leaned over the bowl and inhaled deeply, the aroma of caring, her mother’s love language writ large.

“Yes. And it’s okay to say Dr. Henderson, Ma.”

“What time is your appointment?” Lian sipped her coffee.

“Eleven o’clock.”

The silence fell heavily between them. Nüwa took a bite of her noodles and chewed slowly. She studied her mother’s face.

“Did you think about what I asked you? Will you come with us?” Lian placed her cup on the counter.

Nüwa pursed her lips. “I don’t know. I’m worried I’ll be uncomfortable talking to people.” She took another bite of her breakfast. Nüwa left off the part about worrying about freaking out and embarrassing her parents. No. Embarrassing her mother. Her father would be fine.

“You seemed comfortable enough talking to that girl last week.”

Nüwa pushed her bowl to the side. “Her name is Julia. And what does that have to do with anything?”

Lian shifted her gaze to the wide kitchen window. Nüwa followed her line of vision. Julia stood next to the terrace, a sketchbook in one hand. On the ground in front of her was a bright-orange tape measure. After writing on the pad, Julia picked up the measure and rewound the tape. She wore jeans, work boots, a dark-green windbreaker jacket, and her wraparound sunglasses rested atop dark-red curls.

A flutter of attraction settled under Nüwa’s ribs. Julia had been easy to talk to, accepting of Nüwa’s freak-out during the storm. She was probably one of those folks who could talk to anyone, make everyone feel at ease. Nüwa chewed her lip as Julia was joined by a tall man. He poked her in the ribs and when she whirled around to confront him, he swept her off her feet in a hug.

A bright flare of pain replaced the attraction. Dressed in the same dark-green windbreaker, the man looked so much like Julia he had to be her brother. Grinding grief settled over Nüwa. How different would her life have been if Li Jie had survived? The man stepped back. They talked for a few minutes, then he left. Julia gathered up her tape measure and notebook.

Lian brought her gaze back to Nüwa’s face. “Nothing. Will you talk to your counselor about it? Maybe she has some thoughts? She ought to for what we pay her.”

Nüwa stood. “I pay Dr. Henderson, Mother. I pay her. I pay all my bills. If I’m too much, if me living here is too much, tell me. I hate passive-aggressive bullshit. Dr. Henderson’s job is not to coerce me into doing what you want me to do.” She stalked around the end of the counter, emptied her unfinished breakfast into the trash, and rinsed the bowl before she placed it in the dishwasher. “Thanks for the noodles.”

Nüwa strode out of the kitchen. She yanked open the sliding door to the terrace and walked out into the cool spring air. Julia waved from where she stood in the yard. Nüwa lifted her hand in greeting. A wave of dread swept over her as Julia started toward the terrace. A sense of standing naked even as she was fully clothed. A fine sweat worked its way along her hairline. Run. Run to the house. Lock the door. Pull the curtain. No. She could do this. Julia had been kind even when Nüwa had been a hot mess in the basement.

Nüwa swallowed her excuses and focused on grounding herself. She could feel the heat from the sun-warmed stones under her feet, smell the damp humid scent of spring lushness, and hear the birds flitting among the trees. She fidgeted with her top and smoothed a hand over her hair.

Julia stopped at the steps leading to the terrace. “Good morning.”

“Yes. I mean, good morning.” Nüwa grimaced at her mindless parroting of Julia’s greeting. “What are you doing here?” And now a flush stole over her. “I mean—”

“Dropping off my rent check to Gerald and talking about the repairs to the maze and this wall.” Julia pointed to the wall at the far end of the terrace. “I have some stones that will work here. My brother will help me move them next weekend. The maze will be a longer-term project.” She stepped up on the first step. “I need to check this part to see if I need to do any work up here. If I’ll be in your way, I’ll come back later.”

Nüwa stepped back toward the house. “No. I wasn’t going to. I didn’t have any plans.” Fuck, she was babbling. Julia’s confused expression was proof she was not making sense. She looked away from Julia’s face. Her gaze landed on Julia’s bracelets. A peace settled over her. She could be that. She could draw on the part of herself that thrived on control. Nüwa inhaled deeply. She lifted her chin, straightened her posture. “I’ll watch you work. Unless you mind?”

Julia held her gaze a long moment before she lowered it. “I don’t mind at all, if it pleases you.”

Her subtle shift in behavior, the way she deferred to Nüwa’s wishes and her readiness in obeying Nüwa, lit her up from the inside. “Good.”

Julia climbed the five steps up to the terrace. She stopped in front of Nüwa, set her sketch pad and tape measure aside. She held Nüwa’s gaze as she peeled off her jacket, folded it carefully, and placed it on the low wall surrounding the terrace.

Nüwa raked her gaze over Julia’s thick frame. Her wide shoulders begged to be stroked and Nüwa’s palms itched to touch her. When Julia bent to retrieve her sketch pad and tape measure, her jeans displayed the curve of her ass perfectly.

Julia straightened and moved to the far end of the terrace. She kneeled and sat back on her heels. She lifted her head and met Nüwa’s gaze. Desire crashed through Nüwa. Julia tilted her head to the side. “Would you help me?”

“What do you need?” Nüwa settled into her true self.

“I need to anchor the end of this to something.” Julia held up the end of the tape measure.

Nüwa strode to where Julia kneeled. Julia placed the end of the tape on the paver and gazed up at her, pupils wide. It took every bit of Nüwa’s self-control to not lean down, draw her thumb over her full lower lip, and kiss her. They stared at each other as recognition and understanding flowed between them, a current of desire unchecked in the moment.

Nüwa placed the toe of her shoe on the end of the measure to anchor it and rested her hands on her hips. The power pose settled over her skin. She let every bit of the Mistress she had buried rise to the surface of her soul.

She lifted her chin. “Like this?”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Julia whispered, her cheeks reddened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Nüwa held up her hand, palm out to silence her. “Don’t apologize.”

Julia lowered her chin to her chest.

“Look at me.” Nüwa softened her tone.

Julia peered up at Nüwa.

“Never be ashamed of who you are.” Nüwa drew her fingers though the fine curls covering the crown of Julia’s head. Her phone alarm jangled in her front pocket. She yanked her hand away from Julia. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Julia sat back on her heels, expression shuttered, gaze steady. “It’s fine. I’m used to working alone.”

 

NÜWA CLICKED ON the meeting link. The virtual waiting room opened with an assurance Dr. Henderson would be with her shortly. Nüwa leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs at the ankle and her arms over her chest as she waited. Her moments with Julia replayed in her mind. What would have happened if her phone hadn’t rung? Both her parents were out of the house this morning. She could have continued, seduced Julia, invited her to her private apartment within the house. And then what? No future for them. Too many obstacles. Class, race, and of course Nüwa’s anxiety, always bad, a thousand times worse with the addition of post-traumatic stress. Nüwa chewed her lip as she glanced at the computer clock. Fifteen minutes before her scheduled appointment time.

Nüwa left her chair and paced her office. The narrow room was short for her long strides. As she paced, she reviewed how she would answer Dr. Henderson’s usual questions, the same ones she asked every time they met. Had she considered harming herself? Any cutting? Or had she wanted to harm anyone else? Was she eating?

The last two weeks had been good ones. She had practiced piano every day, not been tempted to draw a razor over her skin, and had not had any desire to exit this world, nor end anyone else’s existence other than the man who had stolen her life. That desire never left her. A burr under her skin, a burning desire to cause him the same kind of fear and pain Nüwa had experienced. Nüwa snorted. No, any attention she paid Martin he would take as a sign of her love for him. His thinking was so twisted he would thank her even as she cut his throat.

Nüwa stopped pacing. She sat in front of the computer. Mouth dry, she fiddled with the desk blotter. Two minutes to her appointment time. Martin. She was so fucking tired of giving him headspace. She was stronger, she had survived, had fought to stay alive. The gaping hole of guilt over the fact she had lived, and her manager, Jane, had not, twisted inside her. Nausea gripped her. A lucid vision of Jane, dead on the floor, bleeding, eyes staring, invaded her thoughts. Her shocked expression would forever be etched in Nüwa’s mind. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “Stop.” She spoke out loud and the words echoed off the walls in the small room as she grabbed handfuls of her hair and yanked. The sharp pain stopped her spiral.

Her computer chimed and her therapist’s face filled the small screen.

“Nüwa?”

Nüwa tapped the unmute button and left the video off. “Here. I’m here.”

“Would you turn on the video?”

“Sure.” Nüwa rubbed her hands over her face and tidied her hair before she opened the video feature.

Dr. Henderson’s neutral expression couldn’t hide the concern in her eyes. “Were you affected by the line of tornados? The images on the news were dramatic.”

“We lost power for a few days. We have a generator, so it wasn’t as bad for us as some others. No house damage.”

“How are things?”

“My mother wants me to go to a cocktail party and wants you to convince me to go. We argued over money…” Nüwa rattled on, giving Dr. Henderson the superficial side of the last two weeks as she listened, her eyes fixed on Nüwa’s face.

“What else is going on?”

Nüwa took a breath and blew it out slowly. “Since the storm, I’ve had some intrusive thoughts.”

“You haven’t reported intrusive thoughts in a long time. Tell me about them.”

“It’s the usual. Jane dead. Martin standing over her. His smile. His awful smile, how pleased he was with himself and how sure he was I’d like his gift.”

“What do you think triggered them?”

“I had a hard time in the storm. It was so much like that night. I freaked out in the cellar. I don’t know what I would have done if Julia hadn’t been there.”

“Julia?” Dr. Henderson lifted an eyebrow.

“Our new renter. She’s…” Nüwa hesitated. Of all the things Dr. Henderson knew about Nüwa, her kink was something she kept to herself. “She’s very kind. Kept talking to me during the worst of it.”

“What else? You stopped yourself before. I’m a safe place, Nüwa.”

“I was—am crazy attracted to her. Like ridiculously so. I flirted with her. And today when I saw her again, it was the same.” Nüwa dropped her chin to her chest. “I felt like the old me. But it’s not right. I shouldn’t.”

“Because she’s a renter? Are you concerned with power dynamics?”

“No. I’m concerned because I’m a fucked-up mess.”

Dr. Henderson frowned. “Nope. You don’t get to use that. What’s the real problem? What are you afraid of?”

“Rejection. Being left. Again. Letting her get too close. I don’t trust my judgement. Cara seemed like the perfect girlfriend, and then she bailed after my first panic attack. I thought Martin was the perfect personal assistant. And then…”

“Many people have no experience of mental health challenges and are unwilling to commit to the work of loving a partner who faces them. Martin is a very ill person. You did nothing wrong. I’ll tell you this again and will keep telling you this. You are not responsible for Jane’s death, or Martin’s obsession with you.”

“I’m at that place again. I want to find him and end him.”

“Any plans on making it happen?” Dr. Henderson’s voice was playful, but it did not reach her eyes.

“No. His liver on a stick won’t solve any of my problems but it would make me happy to know my stalker wasn’t out there. To feel like I could leave my home and be safe.”

“How’s that going? Have you been out of the house?”

“I’ve been out on the terrace.”

“On the grounds?”

“No.”

“Any thoughts of harming yourself?”

“No. And no cutting before you ask.”

“Eating?”

Nüwa pressed her lips in a thin line. “Better,” she lied.

Dr. Henderson pursed her lips. “Really?”

“No. It’s been hard. Nothing tastes like anything. I’m not ever very hungry.”

Dr. Henderson. “Do your best. I have some prescription nutritional shakes I can order, but according to my other patients they taste like hot garbage.”

Nüwa laughed. “With that ringing endorsement I’ll skip those.”

“Do you feel you need an increase in medication?”

“No. Other than the storm I’ve been good. And when I do spin out, it seems to not take so long to come back to center.”

“Anything else you want to talk about?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? We have some time. Do you want to talk about”—Dr. Henderson looked down at her notes—“Julia?”

“No. Not really.”

“All right, then, two weeks, same time and day?”

“I’ll be here.”

Dr. Henderson ended the call. Nüwa leaned back in her chair. As short as her sessions with Dr. Henderson had been, it sucked every bit of energy out of her.

She rested her head on her desk. Would she ever be able to just be with people? To go to a restaurant, or performance? To perform on stage again, and not spend every moment scanning the room for his face? Would she ever be able to leave her home without having a panic attack? Her world had become her apartment in New York and then, after Cara left, her parents’ home.

As grateful as she was her mother had remodeled the efficiency apartment her grandmother had occupied until she passed away, she missed the comfort of the old-fashioned wallpaper and the shag carpet her nǎi nai had loved so much.

She left the tiny alcove she used as an office and walked to her piano. The Shigeru Kawai chamber grand piano took up most of the living room. The piano she had learned on, its keys as familiar as her own face. She leafed through her music. She pulled Ravel’s “Gaspard de la nuit” from the stack, desperate for a complicated piece to center herself.

Nüwa stretched her arms and hands before she sat on the bench. She drew her fingers over the keys and launched into her warmups. The muscle memory in her hands took over and her mind wandered as she worked through her arpeggios before she moved on to her favorite warmup pieces. She increased the tempo of the music as the muscles in her hands warmed and her joints limbered.

What was wrong with her that she was randomly attracted to a woman she just met? No. Julia was more than just a random woman. She was submissive. A lonely one, a submissive searching for someone who would understand, someone who didn’t think she was a freak. Nüwa inhaled a deep breath and exhaled slowly, centering her mind. She lifted her gaze to her sheet music, settled her fingers on the keys, and began.