THE TURQUOISE BEADS

Chapter 02: Flowing Wine

And no one knows where the night is going

And no one knows why the wine is flowing

Oh love I need you, Oh . . . I need you now

-Leonard Cohen

All night long, and all day long Roxanne couldn't forget about Robert and his tender kisses, his gentle eyes or his cheeky smile. She sat in her window, completely ignoring her brother's lecture about going out in the snow at night, just staring at the ocean. She'd smile softly to herself, touching her cheek gently. She'd remember the feeling of his velvety lips on hers, the feel of his hands grasping hers. The feeling of his body pressing her into her slowly, the hardness in his trousers…

Roxanne blushed and turned away from the window. She shouldn't think about that. But she couldn't ignore it either, for it had been there. Oh yes, it had been there. She had felt it pressing down on her, the ever reminder of his manhood.

She needed someone to talk to, and she was sure her brother wouldn't understand. Her brother, for all she knew, had never been in love. She'd never met a girlfriend (nor a boyfriend, she thought cheekily) or even a friend that was a girl. But then again, Jasper didn't really have that many friends.

She looked around her room, until her gaze fell on her open yearbook left on the floor in a corner from the last June. Signed on one of the blank pages was a note from Lillian.

Hey grrl! Call me ova the summer, k? My numba's 240-7364. Have a fun summer! ~ Lillian

She sighed. Lillian had been the only person to actually write a real message in it that wasn't 'Have a nice summer'. She reluctantly picked up the phone and dialed. The phone rang three times before someone answered.

"Hello?" Roxanne could tell that Lillian was chewing gum.

"Hi, Lillian? This is Roxanne." Roxanne tried to sound casual, but it was hard as she hardly ever called anyone on the phone.

"Oh my gosh! Roxanne, hi! What's up?" Lillian sounded cheerful, as ever, maybe even more so.

"I… I met a guy last night." Roxanne murmured, still in awe of the absurdity of her situation. It was absurd, when she thought about it. A man watches her from outside her window for as long as she can remember and when she finally meets him, he professes his undying love for her.

"Oh my gosh! No way!" The gum smacking was getting annoying, but Roxanne just had to talk to someone. "Is he, like, way cute?"

Roxanne sighed. Oh, boy was he ever. "Well, yes and no." She said simply. "He's more… Well he's more handsome than cute."

"Well…? Details, please? What color are his eyes? His hair? How tall is he? Does he have muscles?" Roxanne could tell that Lillian was intrigued. She was the sort to tell this kind of information, as she could keep secrets well and enjoyed doing so. Roxanne sometimes thought that she felt superior knowing secrets that other people didn't.

"Well," Roxanne mused, "His eyes are blue, his hair was dark brown and he must have been about six and a half feet tall. And I definitely felt - um," She coughed nervously, trying to cover up her mix-up, "Saw some muscles."

"Ooh," Lillian moaned, "You lucky thing! He sounds gorgeous. So, what's he like? Mysterious? Sweet? Or is he the typical bad boy?"

"Oh, he's mysterious and sweet and gentle. And there's definitely some bad boy in him. I-" Roxanne paused. Should she tell Lillian everything? "I'm seeing him again tonight."

Lillian screeched, excited by this new information. "No way! Roxanne, AKA 'Miss Ice Queen', has a date?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it a date… More like a rendezvous."

"Well, date, rodeevoo, whatever. You're coming over and I'll help you get ready. Ok? Yay! See you real soon!" There was a click and the line went dead. Roxanne sighed. Well, she'd better do as Lillian said. It was nice of her to offer to help her, but Roxanne was uncomfortable, just the same.

As she headed out her door, she called to Jasper, "I'm leaving for a while. I'll be back in a little while."

Lillian greeted her at the door of their huge house just on the corner of Main Street. It was three stories high and painted a clean, bright white. A Christmas wreath was hung on their door and icicle lights were strung up high above the ground, right under the roof. The sun had already set and the sky was dark. Clouds obscured the stars and the moon and Roxanne would have been walking in pitch-blackness if it hadn't been for the street lamps located sporadically along the street.

"Hey Roxie girl! C'mon in!" Was Lillian eternally cheerful? Roxanne wondered, following Lillian up the stairs to her third story room. Her room was huge, stretching almost the length of the whole third floor. Her closet itself must have been the size of Roxanne's bedroom. It was neat and orderly, make-up and cosmetics arranged carefully on the bureau in front of her mirror, a few books piled in the corner and schoolbooks on her computer desk.

"Alright, let's get down to business. What's your favorite color?"

"Um…" Roxanne hesitated. "Green, I think."

"Green? No, too earthy. You need a color that screams, 'Eat me up! I'm a hot little bundle of burnin' love!'" Lillian rifled through clothes in her closet. Her voice sounded muffled and Roxanne had to strain to hear what she was saying. "Red and black, maybe. I think I have just the outfit… Yes! Found it." She pulled a small black skirt and a dark red shirt out of the closet. "Ok, go put these on. The bathroom's right next door."

Roxanne tentatively took the clothes and went into the bathroom to change. As she slipped the skirt on, she realized just how short it was. It would barely cover her panties if she sat down. The shirt was no better. It was tight and low-cut, meant to accentuate cleavage, which Roxanne had plenty of anyway, and had three-quarter sleeves. As she stepped out of the bathroom, she moaned, "Lillian, I look like a whore."

"No!" Lillian protested. "You look like me. Step back and let me see." Roxanne obeyed and Lillian began to scrutinize her appearance. "Skirt looks nice. You have wide hips and a narrow waist, so that works. The shirt? Nice! Lots of cleavage. Guys go for cleavage."

"I still feel like a whore." Roxanne protested.

"Oh, get over it. Your guy's going to be bowled over." Lillian insisted. "So, are you like, Asian or something?"

Roxanne nodded. "Yes. My biological father was Japanese." Lillian nodded, started to understand. So that's what was with her hyphenated surname. She must have been adopted. Roxanne said good-bye, a little quieter than she had said hello and began the mile and a half walk back to her house.

As Roxanne walked in her house, she could see Jasper asleep on the couch. Unemployment was affecting him, she could tell, and she too. She hadn't had new clothes in over a year, and Christmas would be dismal this year. They'd have to make do with cheap candy and homemade crafts.

Once in her room, she looked for him out her window but could see him nowhere. Perhaps he hadn't come that night. She decided to look. Flinging open the window, she climbed out and looked around. He was nowhere to be seen. Crestfallen, she walked down the beaten path that led to the ocean, the beach, her one true love. She sat in the dry sand a ways from the water, gazing out at the crashing waves. In the east, the clouds were beginning to thin and a bright full moon was peeking out through the mist. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

"Yes, it is quite beautiful, isn't it?" She heard a voice behind her murmur. She twisted her torso around to look.

"Robert!" She jumped to her feet and ran into his warm embrace. "I was afraid you wouldn't come."

Robert looked down at her with curious eyes. "Wouldn't come? After I promised? I never break promises. I crossed my heart, didn't I?" He grinned, pulling her closer. "I have something for you." He whispered in her ear. Together, they sat down in the chilly sand. "This is the reason why I was late, dearest." He pulled a small package out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Roxanne looked at him quizzically. "Oh, you didn't need to get me anything."

"Yes I did, Roxanne." He looked into her green eyes with his crystal clear blue eyes. His gaze was both solemn and tender at the same time, and melted her heart. "Roxanne, you deserve it. I want to give you a token of my love, anyhow. You know I love you, don't you?"

Roxanne nodded, transfixed in his gaze. "Yes," She whispered. "I do know."

"Open it," He urged. Roxanne's fingers were clumsy as she pulled a velvet box out of the package. It was above the size of her hand and was colored a deep violet. She carefully opened it and gasped at what she saw. Lying there on a bed of violet velvet was a beautiful necklace. It was a choker necklace, delicate but still empowering. The chain was a thick woven band of silver. In the center a beautiful heart made out of turquoise was set into the metal. Tiny diamonds surrounded it and sparkled in the sparse moonlight.

"O-Oh, Robert! It's beautiful! Th-Thank you! Oh, I don't deserve this. I can't possibly-" She stuttered as he lifted it out of the box gently and fastened it around her long, graceful neck. It fitted perfectly, almost as if it were made especially for her.

"You do deserve this, love. You deserve it more than anyone." Roxanne blushed and looked down at her lap in embarrassment. Robert gently lifted her chin with one hand. "Do you not think that you're beautiful?" Roxanne shook her head. "Why?"

"Because I know that I'm not." Roxanne said simply.

Robert shook his head. "You're quite wrong, you know."

"I'm not," Roxanne insisted indignantly. She shook her head and sighed. "I'm sorry. I have self-esteem problems. I had to see a psychiatrist last year about it. I started cutting myself up because I was depressed. I had to spend a week in a mental hospital and I'm still on antidepressants."

Robert pulled her head close to his chest, massaging her hair. "There's no need to be sorry. It's nothing in your control. And I know what happened last year. I know everything about you, Roxanne. You can't hide anything from me."

Roxanne shivered involuntarily. She lifted her eyes to meet his. "Everything?" Robert nodded. Roxanne felt a tear running down her cheek. "No, you can't know everything!" Robert wiped the tear away with his knuckle.

"Roxanne, you don't have to hole yourself up like you're doing. Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

Roxanne shook her head. "I can't. I-I'm not good with words. On paper I'm fine as long as I'm not writing about myself, but when it comes to talking everything is hard. It's always been hard for me to interact with people."

"That's alright. You don't have to talk." He lay down in the sand, stretching his arms. "It's so beautiful tonight." He murmured, beckoning her to lie down with him. She did so, snuggling her cheek against his neck. She breathed in. He smelled like a spicy pine tree, teasing her and tickling her nose.

"A gloomy beautiful," She agreed, wrapping her arms around his chest. He turned his head to her and lifted one eyebrow suggestively. She giggled, and snuggled closer, staring up at the sky, the moon and the shimmering water.

They lay their, all silent and still, for about fifteen minutes, enjoying the peace and comfort of each other's touch, until Roxanne broke the silence. "Robert, how-how old were you when you, you know, died?"

Robert sighed, shifting his weight so that he could wrap his right arm around her. "I was twenty six, the heir to a small fortune. I had married a family friend and she had borne me a child - a son. We were unhappily married, I should add. She was three years older than I and our horrible marriage was the result of an agreement our families made when we were young children. We argued constantly and I was tempted to hit her several times, as she hit me whenever she had the chance. She broke my nose once, too. Oh, but she was beautiful. Not like you, more hard and severe, but still beautiful. Her hair was a beautiful shade of blond, like sunshine, and her eyes were blue as the sky on a clear day. But appearances don't always matter, do they?" He chuckled softly, his breath tickling Roxanne's ear.

She shook her head and moved her head so that it fit right into the crook of his neck. "What ever happened to her?" She whispered.

"After I died, Clara - that was my wife's name - wasted away our money on jewels and presents for Caleb - my son. The money eventually dried up and she died a poor, lonely woman in a tiny cottage."

"And as for your son?"

"He was a spoiled, rotten child, even as a baby. I never cared for him much. He eventually became addicted to something; I'm not sure what it was. It might've been morphine. He died when he was twenty five, living with a prostitute in London." Robert sighed, stroking her cheek. "You won't cause me that kind of pain, will you?"

Roxanne was taken aback, "No, of course not. I'll never cause you any pain, I promise." She leaned forward and gently kissed him. He was as surprised as she had been. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong? Because if I did, then I'm sorry and-" He silenced her by pressing his lips against hers hard in a fierce impassioned kiss. He gently pushed her onto her back and leaned over her, having rolled onto his side in the soft sand. She reached up and held her hand against the side of his head, running her fingers through his soft, straight hair.

"I love you," He whispered, his voice shaking with emotion.

Roxanne's eyes teared up. Oh, why did he have to say that? She could feel a pit in her stomach building. She could feel his warm breath on her face, both of them out of breath.

"What's wrong?" Robert looked concerned. "Angel, don't cry. It's alright." Roxanne shook her head. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Why was she crying? Was it because…? Yes, it had to be. "Robert, I love you too," She whispered, her lips turning up into a tiny smile. Robert seemed incredulous. His eyes lit up, and all the sadness that had permanently creased his face was gone.

"Y-You do? Oh, Roxanne, love, that's wonderful! Roxanne, dearest, that is like music to my ears," He kissed the tears off of her face. "Hush now," He whispered, resting his head upon her breasts, "For I have much to explain."