"No!" But she was too late. The beautiful pink petals were crushed, the flower broken. She looked up at him, confused.
"Thorns. Don't touch it again." At her puzzled look, he grabbed her hand, pulled the bloody palm up toward him. "See? Pain. Thorn. Oh, Christ ..."
She didn't understand. Had she done something wrong?
He stared at her for a long time, saying nothing. Then he touched her cheek and sighed. "Who are you, my goddess," he whispered softly, "that you don't remember about thorns?"
He was talking too fast again. She didn't understand the words, but she heard a wistful sadness in his voice. Somehow, she'd failed him again.
"Good-bye, Selena. Be a good girl for Edith."
She stared up at him, afraid he'd hear the tears in her voice if she spoke. Slowly she nodded.
And then he was gone.
Selena stood in the center of the room, alone. Fear welled up inside her, made her want to cry. She bit down on her lower lip, wishing she knew what she'd done wrong.
Edith bustled in from the open doorway. She withdrew a single flower from the vase on the table and wrapped a towel around the thorny stem. Keeping her gaze locked on Selena's, the old woman moved forward, the blossom outstretched. "Here you go, lassie. 'Tis a rose."
Rose. The flower was call
ed a rose, and she remembered all at once that it came in many colors.
"I'll put some scent of roses in your bathwater, eh, child?"
Selena didn't understand. The woman?Edith?was speaking too quickly, and there was a strange foreign-ness to her words. She didn't sound like Ian. Still, it was better to simply nod and pretend. Better that than speak and disappoint.
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She nodded.
Edith moved toward her and began unbuttoning the small circles on Selena's nightdress. Selena watched in fascination. The woman's pudgy pink fingers took hold of a pearly drop?button, she remembered suddenly? and pushed it through the hole. One, two, three, four, five.
"Arms up," Edith said.
Selena nodded.
Edith took hold of her wrists. "Arms," she said with a little squeeze for emphasis.
Selena understood.
"Arms up," Edith repeated, and this time Selena knew what the old woman was asking for.
Slowly she pushed her hands up into the air.
"Good girl." She eased the nightdress over Selena's head and draped the lacy garment over the back of a burgundy velvet chair.
Selena stared in utter fascination at her naked body. Slowly she ran her hands over her breasts, feeling the pink tips pucker and tighten. At the touch, a shiver passed through her belly.
Edith laughed nervously. "Come along now, none of that." She took hold of Selena's hand and led her to the small, white stool along the wall. Long brass tubes ran from the back of the stool, disappearing into an ornately scrolled white box just beneath the ceiling. A chain dangled from the box.
"Toilet," Edith said, pointing at the stool. "Do you remember how to use one?"
Selena moved slowly toward the toilet and stared down at it for a long time, waiting for some hint of an image to surface in her mind.
"Sit down on it, lassie. Maybe that'll remind you."
Selena straddled the thing and sat down. It felt cool and slick on the inside of her thighs. She stared at the brass pipe, marveling at the color.