[In the previous Mature update, Patience and Valon get dirty in the kitchen]
“Now about that help,” said Valon, shuffling toward the sink, his pants still around his ankles.
“Hold on, I thought that was it!” Patience exclaimed, standing naked in the kitchen.
“No. I just wanted that. There’s something else you can do for me.”
“Wh-what do you want?”
Valon found a dishtowel and wiped himself clean. “Your father mounted a few of the specimens in the Manford Museum of Natural History in New Amstel.”
Patience looked away. She murmured, “He’s worked with many institutions throughout his career …”
“Funny thing happened in St. Phocas. After my presentation, a few of the fellows and I went to the gambling house for drinks and a game of cards.” He reapplied his drawers and pants. “I suspected one of them to be cheating and thus, showed him my knife.”
“As you do,” Patience huffed, putting on her undergarments.
Valon continued as though he were never interrupted, “Lips loose from rum, he mentioned a peculiar specimen that shone exactly like my knife’s handle. He came across it in a back room of the museum during a private tour. The way he described it—well, it made me think of a particular beast.”
Valon was indeed the wrong man to consort with.
“I’m sorry to hear of your father’s passing, but I need you to use your connections to get that skull for me.”
“I can’t steal from a museum!”
“You said you wanted to help me. Either we get that skull, or I will find yours and take him.”
Valon took out a cigarette of dried lavender and matches from his pant pocket and lit the roll. Patience’s expression matched the staunch frown usually gracing the hunter’s face. The man now had a curl of a smile pinned between his jowls. He had the upper hand, just as he liked.
“Fine, I’ll help you,” sighed Patience in defeat. “Let me think of a plan and then I’ll contact you.”
“Wonderful,” said Valon, “You can find me at the Comstock Inn in Keaton. Leave me a message.” His expression barely changed despite his victory. He was expecting it all along. The man put out the cigarette on a cutting board and returned it to his pocket. With a half-hearted nod toward Patience, he let himself out. As he threw the door open, he nearly crashed into Schuler who was just outside, gripping a basket. Valon grumbled, sidestepping the musician to continue on to the road.
Schuler stared dumbfounded at the older man. He then glanced inside, meeting eyes with a scantily-clad Patience.
“Oh, God!” Schuler yelped, averting his gaze.
“Schuler! I’m sorry! Let me—” Patience’s face flushed a deep red as she stumbled over to close the front door, but not before dragging Schuler inside. She scrambled to dress over her underclothes.
Once properly covered and Anax was retrieved from the chimney, Patience invited Schuler to sit at the kitchen table. She deliberately hovered over where Valon had sat. “Sorry, again. But I didn’t know you were coming over …”
Schuler dropped his basket on the table and begrudgingly pulled out the chair by the stove. Patience affixed Anax to her head, taking the seat opposite him. This brewing confrontation would be easier to bear with Anax to stand between her and the man.
Schuler stroked his whiskers and spoke, “I wanted to surprise you with lunch, but—Can I say my piece on that man I ran into?”
“Yes, Schuler,” whimpered Patience, preparing for the backlash.
“Patience! I can’t believe you!” Schuler threw his hands into the air. His mouth distorted into a scowl.
“You can’t tell me whose company I can keep!” she retorted.
“I know! I just—I worry about you!” Schuler bit his fist, trying to gather himself. “Who is he anyway?” he asked with pleading eyes.
“A man I met during my vacation,” confessed the girl.
“And he came all the way here to you?”
“Yes, but it’s nothing serious. We have … an arrangement.” Patience shifted her eyes away, even though they were difficult to see with Anax on her.
“That seems rather … precarious,” grunted Schuler, fighting for the right words. “He doesn’t sit well with me.”
“He has matters with Anax that I’m sorting out—in my own way.”
“So you ARE in trouble!”
“I will take care of it!”
“Are you sure you can handle whatever shit you’re embroiled in?” Schuler passed a hand over his face. “This really isn’t like you.”
“I’m not the same girl you met six years ago!”
“You’re right, you’re going out risking your safety! I just want you to be okay! The Patience I knew was comfortable staying at home, working the garden, playing with skeletons—”
“Maybe I needed a change in scenery,” Patience interjected.
“She’s been playing with skeletons in a new way!” quipped Anax.
“Shut it, Anax,” snapped the girl.
Schuler crossed his arms and slouched into the chair, looking quite despondent.
Hanging her head, Patience softened her voice, “This house, it’s too full of memories. I have to go out and make new ones. Memories of my own … with Anax … and anyone else I choose.”
Schuler stared out the window in abject silence.
“Are … are you still bitter about me declining your marriage proposal?” she murmured.
The man brought a hand to his brow, smoothing back his black hair. There were more streaks of silver than Patience had remembered last. His gaze rolled to meet hers.
“Can you blame a man?” asked Schuler.
Patience flicked her head to the side, afraid to look at his face.
“I wanted to give you that change in scenery,” he said.
“I … wasn’t ready then …”
Schuler reached over the table, offering his hand. Patience extended her arms and clasped his palm between her own, running her fingers over his callused ones.
“I can still give you that change,” said Schuler, a weak smile on his lips.
“I …” Patience knew deep down in her heart she still was not ready. She was not ready to commit to him and lose him. She did not know if she ever would be. Valon did not mean much to her. Anax would stay with her indefinitely, possibly until she herself departed this world. But Schuler, from the day he came to their house to patch their roof, she knew he was special, and that he was evanescent.
“Not yet,” was the best she could muster. The man’s disappointment weighed on her slumping shoulders. Keeping Schuler at arm’s length was easy when he traveled with his troupe. Now that he was here again, it pained her more than she anticipated. Her fingers gave a hard squeeze before he withdrew his hand.
“Well, let’s tuck into this roast chicken before it gets cold.” Still with a smile on his lips, Schuler opened the basket. As they ate and passed words between them, the smile remained, but his eyes were glazed and distant. Anax, meanwhile, had snaked a tendril down Patience’s back and reached around discreetly to clean her.
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