Eve rolls over in her bed, staring at the clock: 10:57 am. She has intentionally lollygagged most of the morning away; though Jonathan woke her up (several times) with his text messages, she continues to lay naked on top of the satin sheets of her bed. Resting her chin on her shoulder, she breathes in the scent of her skin, the stench of sweat, sex, cum and musk slowly fading from her body. Like a cat with a rotting carcass, she flopped on the bed when she got home the night before and rubbed her yellow scarf all over her, the smell of fresh sex only making her want it more.
Reluctantly she drags herself out of bed and throws on some sweats before trudging outside. The chickens angrily cluck at her, frustrated that they have been ignored. Her cats, now past the time that they want to cuddle, sun themselves in the grass, lazily watching her as she begins her morning run. Making two full loops, she does twice as much as usual, if only to wear herself out so that perhaps she can stop thinking about sex.
After tending to the chickens and playing with her cats, she wanders around her yard. Since Paul passed, she has let things go. Scraggy hedges have overtaken the side of the house, weeds pushing through the grass to make it appear like a prairie and she frowns when she discovers the pool, though having been empty for the past few years, is filthy.
Back in the house she flips through an address book by the phone, before finding the number for the old man who used to service their pool. She gives him a ring.
"Smith and Sons Pool Service, this is Jack, how can I help you?"
"Hello, Mr. Smith," she says politely.
Before she can continue, he recognizes her voice, "Mrs. Harrison? Is that you?"
"Yes, Jack. Say, I know it has been a few years, but I was wondering if perhaps you could get the old girl up and running for this summer? It's pretty dirty and I'm sure it will need some work, but I'm more than happy to pay extra."
"Sure thing, Mrs. Harrison. It is good to hear from you," he says genuinely.
After she makes arrangements for him to come out on Thursday, she flips a few more pages and punches in another number.
"Frank's Lawn Care, what can I do for you?"
"Hello, Frank, this is Gwen Harrison," she starts.
"Mrs. Harrison—how are you?" he says happily.
"I'm fine, thank you for asking. How are Jill and the kids?"
"Oh they're good! Sprouting like weeds, though, no matter how much herbicide I use, they keep growing..."
Eve laughs musically at his joke, "Say, Frank, that's why I'm calling. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but from the drive my house looks like it is abandoned. Purely wretched. Though I considered buying a few goats to do the work, what with how much you charge, I figured they'd probably eat the wrong things anyways, so what the hell. Do you have any time to swing out? You'll need a chainsaw for the yard, maybe a blow torch..." she teases.
Frank chuckles, "Yea I can make it out Wednesday afternoon, does that work for you?"
"I will be at work, but if you leave me an invoice I'll get you a check right away."
"Sure thing, Gwen. Good to hear from you, too."
Nodding to herself, Eve walks around the house, throwing open the curtains in all of the rooms. Though she normally does this in the dining room and her studio, she rarely bothers with the rest of the house. But today, she decides, it is time for a fresh start. Gathering up some cleaning supplies, she starts in the living room and works her way room by room. When she is about half way through the first floor, her home phone rings.
Eve pulls off her glove and picks it up, "Hello?" she says, somewhat pleasantly.
"Yes, Mrs. Harrison? This is Sarah Kirkpatrick," the woman starts; the hesitation in her voice makes it seem like she isn't sure she will be recognized.
"Principal Kirkpatrick," Eve says, quelling the woman's doubts, "what can I do for you?"
"Well, Gwen," she pauses, "I'm not entirely sure. There seems to be some concerns with a few students...do you have time to stop in this afternoon?"
The tone of her voice leads Eve to believe that Sarah doesn't want to talk about it over the phone, "Ah, sure, what time were you thinking?"
"Maybe 2 pm? I know you have lessons in the afternoon, but I don't think it will take terribly long."
Eve glances at the clock: 1:03 pm, "Sure, Sarah. I'll see you then."
After hanging up the phone, Eve drops her gloves into the bucket and strips out of her sweats before turning on her hot rollers and hopping into the shower. She makes it quick, less than ten minutes, and irritatingly towel dries herself off. Hastily blow drying her hair, she whips it up in rollers before selecting her clothes.
Pulling on a satin, white body slip she tightens a white corset over her torso before sliding some stockings onto her legs. She chooses a robin's egg blue collared dress, buttoned down the entire front, modest, but vintage, she leaves the top four buttons open to show just a hint of cleavage. With just a few minutes to spare, she pulls out the rollers before hastily whipping up some victory rolls and putting on a light layer of eye shadow and eyeliner. She chooses a peach colored lipstick, giving her a much softer look than she wears while working. Instead of heels, she slips on a pair of white boat shoes before grabbing her purse and hopping into her car.
Eve gets a few odd looks from some kids hanging out in front of the high school when she arrives. She doesn't recognize them and assumes they must be freshmen. When she walks into the office, the receptionist gives her a surprised, pleasant smile, "How are you?" the woman says.
"I am well; Principal Kirkpatrick called me, she wanted to meet at 2?"
