The Proviso

30: Jasmine in My Mind

The air was cool for an August Sunday in the middle of the afternoon and the breeze blew Giselle's hair all around her. She and Bryce were sitting on a picnic table in Cancer Survivor's Park, his legs hanging off the edge, she straddling his hip, her left knee over his thighs and her right leg stretched out on the table behind him.

Neither spoke as they slowly fed each other strawberries.

"I feel weird because I'm not at church right now," she murmured finally, because it was weighing heavily on her mind, "and why."

"You go to church often enough that not going is an event?"

She nodded. "Every Sunday. It's a respite for me, like meditating in front of the bodhisattva."

He said nothing for a moment. Then, "I've only been a few times since the fire. The last time I went was a few months after I met you at Hale's." She started. "I wanted to find some answers as to how to deal with you."

"Because you thought Knox and I were lovers."

He nodded.

"So how'd that work out for you?"

He grimaced. "It didn't."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not. I'm here with you."

She smiled, but with melancholy.

"What?"

She sighed. "It's just- I don't- We still don't know each other very well."

He tapped her sternum with a finger. "We may not know details, but time provides those."

"You know, if you want this relationship to grow, eventually you'll need to tell me a little more about your wife and kids."

His mouth tightened, not in anger but acknowledgment of the truth of it, and he stared blankly in front of him. "Where to begin? My wife's name was Michelle. She was the most faithless, evil woman who ever lived."

That was the impression Giselle was beginning to get. "How'd you end up married to her then?"

He took a deep breath. "I was trying to avoid women like you," he murmured without a shred of humor.

"Since you were eighteen years old?"

He hesitated. Nodded. "You have Rearden. I have ... Mia Yoshida. But she's a real person."

"I like stories."

"Well, then. Here goes. Right after I graduated from high school, I went to junior college for summer and fall terms to kill time until I turned nineteen to go on my mission. Summer term, I had a history teacher who ... " He paused. He paused for a long time. "She was gorgeous."

"Oh?"

"She was half Latina and half Japanese." He barked a laugh and slid Giselle a sly look. "About five-three. Muscular." He plucked at the neckline of Giselle's tank top and looked down into her cleavage. "Breasts 'bout the size of yours. Yes, I noticed."

Giselle puffed a surprised laugh and looked away in a futile attempt to hide her blush. She hummed yes when he cupped one of her breasts, caressed it, stroked her nipple. Kissed her.

For a long time.

They drifted apart on butterfly kisses.

"Glossy black hair down to her waist. She liked men who were much bigger and stronger than she was. She was a ballbuster, but she wanted to be dominated. I hear that's common for strong women."

"Ones with lots of responsibility and stress, usually." Giselle smiled at him. "Go on. Gorgeous ... ?"

"Bold. Outrageous. Early thirties. Sophisticated. Well traveled. The first day, she told us she wanted to fuck our minds. I was horrified." He paused, then whispered, "Captivated."