Page 78 of Purchase Power
“We’ll see. Technically, I’ve gotten everything I already need from it.” Lucy slurped her soup and crushed her spoon into the bottom of the bowl with finality.
Lacey had to go and do it. She had to be smarter, if not more astute than her big sister. Lucy would never know the exact moment Lacey became big enough and smart enough to go toe-to-toe with someone a few years older than her. At some point, everyone grew up, didn’t they? That included little sisters. That included children. One day, should Lucy decide to become a mother, she would ask herself this same question once again.When did she grow up? When did that happen? How did someone who was shitting their diaper last week become astute enough to see the confliction behind my eyes… and have the tact to nicely ask about it?
“The Mr. Rochester, CFO of family fortunes, sounds like a butthole,” Lacey said. “I bet he’s the reason you’re not in a big hurry to go back to Thornfield Hall.”
Lucy couldn’t help but snort in mild amusement. “I guess watching the drama with me all those times taught you something about the story, if you can remember those names.”
“I know that Mr. Rochester sucks, and thatJane Eyreis a sorry excuse for a romance.”
“Genres were a bit different back then.”
“Come off it, sis. You’re the English major, so you know better than I do it’s never been a capital R romance. It’s Jane’s story. Just because she ended up with the dickish guy in the end doesn’t mean it was good for her. Or that she would be happy. Do you really believe in that romance when you read the story?”
“Of course I do. Because, like you said, it’s Jane’s story, and I know her better than most people who have read that book a hundred times like me.” Why, yes. Thiswasa hill Lucy was willing to die on. “Jane was pious to the point she wouldn’t even go along with Rochester’s charade once the truth about his wife came to light. She always did the right thing. Even when she was acting stupid, she had glory in her heart.” Lucy realized how silly she sounded, but alsosoher type of New York. Where else could somebody go and find two sisters in the corner, chowing down on chowder and debating the literary quandaries of one of Western literature’s most classic tales? “Marrying Rochester was the right thing forher.She loved him, and believed in forgiveness. She was so happy being with him and having a child with him that…” Yeah, this was off the rails, even for Brooklyn. “Point is, just because it’s not a modern romance novel, doesn’t mean the love story doesn’t have a satisfying ending. We’re not talking about the other Brontë sister here.”
Lacey laughed.
“What?”
“It’s…” Lacey recollected herself before her sleeve dipped into her tomato soup. “I love how much you adoreJane Eyre,yetWuthering Heightsmakes you scream.”
“I never want to read that book again, thank you.”
“Hey, guess what book I’ll probably have to read for class next semester?”
“Tell your profJane Eyreor get the fuck out.”
They fell into a fit of giggles befitting their sisterly bond. Lucy had never been so happy to be back in New York. For a few blessed seconds, she forgot about the nagging feeling in her stomach. The one that told her she had made a grave mistake coming back to New York.
***
Still nothing…
Lacey was long in bed, since she had work at a local shop in the morning. Lucy sat at her old desk Wednesday evening, flipping through the messages on her phone, wondering when Noah would remember her existence.
Not even a call for phone sex. Nothing about when she would come back to his house. Maybe it was never about that. Maybe he was mad at her for bailing on his home city, and now he was giving her the passive aggressive silent treatment with an ultimatum soon to follow.
Lucy was tempted to message him. Her last message announced she was going to New York, and to contact her when he was serious about seeing her again. Nothing afterward.
The worst thing? Lucy missed him in so many ways. She missed his sardonic humor. The way his brow bent when he was caught off-guard by something she said. His spontaneous desire to make love. The way he kissed, when he finally let her see that side of himself.
I know nothing, though. I know nothing about him.For all Lucy knew, that was a rouse to keep her at distance. Not because he was a tortured soul with much to hide, but because he wanted a woman to fuck and nothing more.
How could Lucy allow this to happen to her psyche? She was never meant to fall in love.For fuck’s sake, he was never meant to be young and hot! And good in bed!
She couldn’t close her eyes without thinking of the way he made love to her. From the hard and heavy to the slow and intimate, Noah Gabriel was the whole package in the bedroom. He was the only man who could make her come so hard that her eyes never opened again. He was also the only one who could whisper such dirty things in her ear and make her feel like the most beautiful, most desirable woman in the world.
Maybe he was the professional in the end.
Lucy opened a Google Doc on her laptop, staring at the alley beyond her short, square window. With it slightly cracked open, she smelled New York and heard its distant rattle. A cacophony of cars, voices, and deliveries.
“If I am Jane Eyre and he is Mr. Rochester, then we are truly two people who somehow deserve each other,”Lucy began.“Although I daresay Jane would take great offense to being compared to a woman like me. Far from virtuous and virginal, I entered this relationship for one reason beyond the shitton of money it offered me. I wanted to forward my own career. I wanted to bolster my independence. I wanted…I wanted,and that’s all there was to it.
“I still am desirous – covetous, even – but instead of wanting to progress my own selfish needs, I desire the man. I don’t care about his money, or his house, or the large estate it all sits upon. I want him. I want his heart. I want to see his soul.
“Naturally, I want his body as well. I want to ride him like I have somewhere important to go. I want to feel him on top of me, splitting me apart so I can know what it feels like to be whole again. I want him in every direction. Dare I say it… I even want him back in my ass.
“I suppose that’s not a very literary thing to say. Surely, Jane would never say it, in any fancy, flowery language. I can’t purple prose my way out of the truth, though. I want my Mr. Rochester like the Earth wants to rain. I want him like we humans need to feel sadness and pain. He may have a lot of darkness hanging over his beautiful head, but I want to part it. I want to bring light to his life. I want to be his Manic Pixie Dream Girl who shows him how to have fun. I want to make his employees feel appreciated and remind him of their humanity. I want.”
