Chapter Two

Nobody appeared to be home. What a relief! How embarrassing it would have been to intrude upon a breakfasting family. Through the leaden glass of the bay window, Meredith looked out into the street. There was no sign of the man who’d been following her. Perhaps she’d only perceived him as a threat. Really, what evidence did she have that he meant to hurt her? Just because a man was walking through the park and wearing dirty clothing didn’t mean he intended any harm.

How silly of her. That poor guy must have felt terribly affronted by her fearful response. It was clearly an overreaction.

“Meredith?”

Meredith’s heart jumped into her throat as she leapt away from the window. She’d truly thought no one was home. After a few involuntary steps toward the front door, she turned to see who’d spoken her name.

There, at the entrance to the foyer, stood a woman of perhaps sixty-five years. Tall and austere, she wore a long velvet dress despite the warm weather. Her hair was dark grey streaked with white and pulled back into a loose bun. The overall look gave her a witch-like appearance. How suiting, in a dark house full of dark wood and dark furniture. She gave Meredith the chills.

“How do you know my name?”

The air was stagnant. Why were there were no lights on? Holding tight to the belt of her cotton dress, Meredith wrapped the thin fabric around her wrist again and again. She flinched when the woman touched her arm.

“It’s Joyce. You don’t remember me, dear? I was the evening foreman at the factory. We met once or twice when your husband was staying late around tax time. You brought him dinner. We all razzed Jeff about that, but it was real nice of you. I always did like your husband. ‘Course, he’s the one who did the payroll, so anybody who liked getting paid liked Jeff.”

Yes, this woman did look familiar. She obviously knew Jeff, and any friend of her husband’s was a friend of Meredith’s.

“Goodness gracious, Joyce! Yes, of course it’s you. I’m sorry, I’ve never seen you out of your cover-alls. You look lovely in that dress.”

“Well, thank you. It’s vintage. Can I take your purse and your…what is that?” Joyce pointed a bony finger at the floral fabric wrapped around Meredith’s arm.

“Oh, it’s my apron.” Meredith’s cheeks blushed of their own volition.

“Don’t leave home without it, eh?” Joyce taunted.

“It’s silly. I just forgot to take it off when I walked out the door. But, Joyce, aren’t you wondering what I’m doing in your house?”

“As long as you’re not here to rob me, you’re as welcome as any visitor.” Joyce seemed distracted, looking over Meredith’s shoulder and out the bay window. A smile bled across her lips. “And speaking of welcome visitors…”

There was a rap at the front door, and Meredith turned to ice. Might it be her tormentor? No, of course not. Silly girl, afraid of everything! There was no tormentor, only an underprivileged man taking a stroll through Granite Park. He had as much right to be there as she.

“Hello, all,” Joyce greeted a group of guests at the door.

“Oh, Joyce, let me get out of your hair. I’m intruding on your party.” Meredith apologized, covering her blushing cheeks with cool hands.

“Nonsense. Meredith, dear, allow me to introduce some friends of mine: Sheena, her husband Ash, and their friend and mine, Richard.”

Meredith was usually wary of strangers, but there was something different about the beautiful people. Perhaps it was unwise, but she trusted them implicitly. It was yet another throwback to the teachings of her parents, that one can in fact judge a book by its cover, that outer beauty was only a reflection of inner beauty. The reaction was ingrained, and there was an undeniable beauty in Sheena and Ash’s shining black hair and skin the color of maple syrup.

After exchanging pleasantries, Meredith offered a soft hello to the fit blond man. Richard looked familiar; maybe he worked with Jeff. Those blue eyes of his had Meredith on the verge of an uncontrollable giggle fit, like when she had a crush on Bobby McIlroy in grade five. Bobby was blond too. He’d reminded her of her favorite comic book character, Richey Rich.

Goodness gracious, Meredith had a crush!

“Why don’t we go straight out back?” Richard suggested to Ash.

What a voice he had, deep and sensuous. It reverberated through the lower regions of Meredith’s body. Could she follow along?

“You read my mind,” Ash replied in an accent Meredith didn’t recognize. “My eyes have yet to adjust from the sunlight. I can hardly see where I am.”

As the two men walked past, their aromas entranced Meredith. Richard crossed close to her, exuding a clean and masculine musk. Daring to raise her head, she fought the urge to grab his arms and squeeze the gorgeous muscles peeking out beneath his T-shirt, or to leap onto his back and let him carry her outside.

Meredith suddenly realized Joyce was staring straight at her. Those perceptive grey eyes must have seen her thoughts, judging by Joyce’s knowing smirk. Guilty as charged. Oh well, she was only looking and there was no harm in that.

“I need to go upstairs for a moment,” Sheena informed Joyce in the same unfamiliar accent as Ash’s. “I have to…well, you will see.”

The two women smiled slyly at one another, as though they shared a secret. If they were up to something, perhaps Meredith had better leave them to it, but as she drew breath to offer excuses, her eyes became fixated on Sheena.

Her black hair fell almost all the way to her wide hips. Sheena was small in stature, but highly curvaceous. She had the generous proportions of the women in Jeff’s magazines. Oh, he thought his collection was a secret, but Meredith found his stash in the garage. What a shock it had been to come upon nudity in her own home! She’d stared down at the gorgeous women on the magazine covers, thinking, ‘What would June Cleaver do?’ Feel angry toward Jeff for keeping pornography!

Yes, feel angry. Starting now.

No?

Perhaps if she flipped through a few of the magazines…

This was the sort of woman Jeff liked to look at? Most were fleshy creatures like Sheena. With substantial breasts and mountainous bottoms, their ample curves were mesmerizing. Sitting on the dirty garage floor, Meredith had spent the better part of an afternoon gazing at naked breasts, round buttocks, ripples of flesh, and reading the titillating tales and erotic escapades. What a sordid delight every time a new magazine found its way to the box! A secret delight.

If Jeff could have secrets, so could she.