“Where have you been?” Jasmine heard her mother yell at her just as she banged the front door shut.
“I told you I was going to the beach.” Her mind was too occupied with Marvin and his ill manners to be sweating over appeasing her mother.
“He’ll be here in an hour,” her mother said, appearing from a room within with the dusting cloth still in her hand. She had, thankfully, taken her jacket off and Jasmine could see sweat stains under her armpits on the dark blouse she was wearing.
“Exactly why you need a shower,” she couldn’t help but smirk. She had never seen her poised mother so worked up before.
“You need one as well, in fact,” she said and crossed her arms across her chest. Camilla was looking her daughter up and down with stern eyes. “Will you please wear something appropriate for the evening?” she stated rather than asked.
“I’ll wear something clean. I want to stress again how this is not a business meeting,” Jasmine said as her mother brushed past her to wipe imaginary dust off the shelf behind Jasmine.
“This is not a kindergarten, Jasmine. The appropriate thing would be to look professional,” she heard her mother add as she climbed the long spiral staircase to her makeshift room.
The room that she had chosen for her stay in the house had been dusty, but Jasmine had managed to wipe it down and find new linen for the bed. Floral patterned upholstery covered the two armchairs, and a wide oval wooden mirror rested in the corner. Jasmine stood in front of it and realized she had some sand on her face.
He must have thought I’m a silly girl. She couldn’t get Marvin out of her head. She turned on her heels and found her big bag on the floor. She rummaged around inside it and pulled out a pair of dark straight jeans and a thin, red silk blouse. “This will have to do,” she said aloud and thanked God that she’d packed her favorite pair of red pumps as well.
•••
The long shower Jasmine treated herself to seemed to have calmed her racing mind. She patted her curls dry with the old towel she found hanging in the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. The jeans fit snugly around her waist, accentuating the curves of her hips and thighs. The soft material of her blouse stretched across her voluptuous breasts and she ran a muted rose colored lipstick over her pouting lips. The warm weather dried her hair much quicker than she had anticipated. The humidity still added volumes to its mass, but now that it was fresh and clean, her auburn curls looked soft and like a different shade of her blouse.
“Jasmine, will you please come down?” Camilla’s voice boomed around the house, and she skipped over to the door, trying to slip into her shoes on her way out.
“What is it?” she asked as her heels clicked against the wood of the staircase. She never failed to be surprised by how her mother always managed to look on-point. She was in one of her black skirt-suits again, with a white, high-collared blouse sticking out from the folds of her jacket. Her bob was neatly combed back, and not a strand of hair was astray. The fact that she was wearing her pearls indicated to Jasmine that she was clearly trying very hard to impress.
“I just want you to empty out the bottle of Glenlivet into the crystal decanter in the drawing room,” she said, patting her hair down – not that it needed any more patting.
“You carried Scotch with you?” Jasmine widened her eyes as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Well, I would have liked to arrange for some hors d'oeuvres, too, but that of course would be impossible,” she replied casually.
“Wow. You’re charging ahead with guns blazing aren’t you?” Jasmine giggled and walked over to the drawing room which now looked more than presentable. Most of the light bulbs were dysfunctional, but the few that still worked added a faded charm to the room.
“Good job with the tidying up, Mom,” she said loudly as she found the unopened box of whiskey on top of the corner bar.
“It’s the best I could do in half a day,” her mother replied from the hallway, just as Jasmine heard a loud rap on the front door.
“Jasmine, he’s here. Be good,” Camilla hurriedly said, peeping into the drawing room as she began pouring the whiskey into the decanter that her mother had polished down earlier.
“Calm down, Mom,” she managed to say, just as her mother disappeared.
Jasmine remained standing by the bar as she heard the front door open and her mother’s nervous high pitched voice greeting someone.
“I trust you’ve seen the house from the outside before,” Camilla’s loud voice could probably be heard all around the house. “Let’s have a quick chat before I take you on the tour,” Jasmine heard her add a nervous laugh to that and she rolled her eyes.
She hadn’t heard the gentleman’s voice yet, but seconds later her mother entered the drawing room with her arm outstretched, directing her guest into the room.
When she saw Marvin walk in, Jasmine’s heart stopped and she didn’t even try to not look surprised. Marvin was in tan slacks now, a white Polo t-shirt covered his torso, which she had seen bare only a few hours ago. His hair was combed back as before and his piercing blue eyes were lazily taking in the drawing room until they rested on Jasmine standing in the corner. He looked his age when he was clothed. In the faded light of the room he looked much older. His hair suddenly looked more grey, and there were lines on his face that she hadn’t noticed in the sun. He looked more tired too. Marvin didn’t seem to be as surprised as she was. Instead, his eyes betrayed a mocking glimmer, and he smirked.
“Hello Jasmine,” were the first words he spoke in the house, and that voice was unmistakable. Jasmine would have recognized that tone anywhere.