Prelude

Spellbound with a Kiss

By Cuirbouilli

Prelude

A sleek new 2007 Black Raven Cadillac rolled up the driveway to a red brick Colonial Revival mansion and stopped in front of the two-car garage.  Autumn-colored leaves fluttered to the ground as the white garage door nearest the house raised automatically.  The finely-tuned engine hummed almost imperceptibly as the driver slowly pulled the car in and parked.

Marvin Harper climbed out of the Cadillac, his brown leather bomber jacket creaking against the leather seat.  He was a tall, vigorous man in his mid-fifties, casually dressed in a turtleneck and loafers.  As owner and president of a successful manufacturing company in downtown Boston, Massachusetts a business suit was his most common attire, but it was a Saturday afternoon and he was not in the office. 

He thumped the car door shut and was glad to see the red 2004 Mercedes-Benz convertible parked in the space beside him.  It meant that his wife had returned from running her errands while he was gone.

He made his way around the front of the Cadillac and entered the house through the interior garage doorway.  The delicious aroma of simmering, freshly-made apple cider greeted him as he passed through the kitchen

"Cassandra?  Are you home?" he called aloud rhetorically.

"In here," her voice answered dulcetly from her solarium at the other side of their home.

Marvin walked down the hallway and found his lovely wife sitting at her writing desk.  She met with their broker over brunch before going grocery shopping, and she was reviewing the investment portfolio he had given to her.

"Did you get the oil changed in the Cadillac?" she inquired, tossing her thick red hair from her pretty face as she turned toward him.

"Yes dear.  I had them do a complete tune-up.  You should be ship-shape for another three thousand miles," he answered dutifully as he bent to kiss her. 

She received his adoring smooch on her porcelain cheek, not letting him smudge her glossy crimson lipstick.

“And do you have your luggage all packed for your trip and ready to go?” she nagged.

“It’s all set and in the foyer waiting for your inspection,” he reassured her with a patient grin.

She cocked her arched eyebrows at his remark.  Her penetrating green eyes glimmered at him with the loving reproach he was long accustomed to. 

"So.  What did Carl have to say?" he asked about her meeting with their broker.

"Oh.  Nothing too surprising," she replied, pursing her lips shrewdly.

“He advised that we not touch our annuities, of course.  We will never get a rate of 11.0% again, especially if the economy keeps looking as unfavorable as it does.”

Marvin nodded in agreement.

“Otherwise, I asked him to stabilize some of our other investments and I shifted some money in my personal accounts.  Oh, and I invested your IRA into a CD,” she summarized briefly, closing the portfolio. 

“Why did you do that?  Isn’t there a penalty?” Marvin asked.

“Not if it is rolled into a new IRA that is already invested in a CD.  It will earn almost double the interest and you know what I always say; every penny counts,” she smiled, plucking the pristine white shirt collar that was layered over a crimson turtleneck at her throat.

“Sounds smart to me dear,” Marvin agreed, jingling his keys in his pants pocket.

“You’re a good woman.”

“I know,” she chimed along with his endearing compliment.

The smile on her full red lips broadened complacently. 

Cassandra was always very prudent with their money.  Marvin trusted her to handle their household finances, and he was glad he did not have to manage them himself.  Running his corporation was enough stress by itself.  

He noticed that the long, black leather coat she was wearing when she left that morning was draped over the arm of the sofa.  It was unusual for Cassandra to not hang her coat up in the foyer closet if she did not intend to put it on again shortly and the sight of it prompted his next question.

“So, have you decided to come to Jeff’s party with me?” Marvin asked, referring to a Halloween party being held by the vice president of his company that afternoon.  

She let out a perturbed sigh and turned away without answering him.  

“You said you were still thinking about it,” he continued, qualifying his question gingerly as he glanced at the Rolex watch on his wrist.

“But, if you are coming we need to leave soon.  It’s already after two o’clock and we aren’t going to be able to stay for too long before I have to leave for the airport.”

She opened her desk drawer, placed the portfolio inside of it, and closed it again.  The long, black leather skirt she had on rustled as she stood up and pushed her chair in neatly. 

“Oh, Marvin.  I cannot decide,” she admitted, tugging the creases out of her cashmere cardigan sweater.  

She clasped her hands over her slim waist and fidgeted.

The decision to go to the party presented more of a dilemma for her than most people would guess, but Marvin understood his wife well.

Cassandra was a very particular woman to say the least.  She was meticulous about her appearance, precise about her habits, and selective about who she associated with.  For his part Marvin preferred that she be a discerning lady of good taste, but she did not always socialize well with people of lesser standards.  She was often accused of being a snob.  Marvin would argue that maybe she was just a little too “refined”.

Regardless, she did not fit in with the blue collar employees of his company at all.  She was even a bit too proper for most of his office staff.  As a result she found it difficult to enjoy herself at company social events and she avoided them if possible.  She usually would never consider going to a party like the one being held that day.  However, when Marvin mentioned offhand that one of his engineers named Nathaniel might show up in an authentic Puritan costume she suddenly expressed an uncharacteristic interest in going.  

That was two weeks ago, and she had been anxiously wavering ever since.

“Are you certain Nathaniel is coming?” she clarified for the umpteenth time. 

“He told me he was when I saw him on Wednesday,” Marvin answered.

“And he said he was going to wear armor like he does at those historical events he goes to.”

Cassandra was only acquainted with Nathaniel from the few company-hosted events she went to, but she was rather fond of him for reasons she could not explain.  Perhaps it was simply because he was one of the few people in Marvin’s corporation who behaved with any courtesy or respect around her, but something about him struck her as oddly familiar.  If he was not such a young man she would actually question whether she had met him sometime years ago, although she could not place when or where.

Granted that she already liked Nathaniel, the thought of seeing him dressed as a Puritan soldier piqued her curiosity enough for her to think about going the party.  She impulsively bought a witch hat to wear as a costume, but she was still unsure if she wanted to go.  She kept debating if it was worth subjecting herself to the other obnoxious guests just to visit with Nathaniel briefly.  Besides that, she was afraid his “authentic” outfit would turn out to be a nothing more than a ridiculous, polyester Halloween costume.

“He is not one of those silly carnival performers from a renaissance festival is he?” she scoffed.

“I don’t know, dear,” Marvin shrugged.

“You are a better judge of that stuff than I am.  All I can tell you is that he says he will look like a pilgrim that just stepped off the Mayflower and the kid sounds like a history professor when he talks.”

She fretted, tugging the buttoned cuffs of her white blouse from the sleeves of her sweater.   

Cassandra kept current with clothing and hairstyles.  She took modern conveniences for granted like any other woman and expected to get a new car every couple years.  But, otherwise her mannerisms often tended to be quite old-fashioned.  

She possessed a unique sensibility for history that often left Marvin baffled.  The past and the present did not always seem distinct to her.  She could be talking about something she read in the morning newspaper one minute and then recite details about a similar event that happened two hundred years ago the next minute as if it was common knowledge.  The heritage of old towns like Plymouth, Nantucket, and Salem was so intimately familiar to her that Marvin joked she ought to be a tour guide.  She harbored a singular, romantic obsession with the early Puritan history of New England and, indeed, many of the morals and virtues she conducted herself by were rather puritanical.  

Thus, it was not surprising that she was interested in seeing Nathaniel’s costume, although Marvin was beginning to regret mentioning it.  Her deliberations were exhausting him.

“If you don’t want to come to the party it’s alright, sweetheart.  You don’t come to most of these office parties and I don’t expect you to.  Nobody will think less of you,” he assured her.

“I have no illusions about that!” she clucked.

“Nobody there would miss me and, personally, I would rather not freeze outside in the cold with a bunch of people I have nothing in common with.  I would much rather stay here snuggled under a blanket, drink a warm mug of cider, and read a book by the fireplace.”  

“It’s up to you.  I don’t want you to be miserable on my account.  If you don’t come it will be quicker for me to just go straight to the airport from the party,” he hinted. 

“Oh!  But, Nancy and Jeff always put so much time and effort into their parties.  It would be rude of me not to go,” she vacillated.

“They are always glad to see you,” Marvin agreed evenly.

“I suppose Barb, Linda, and Kathy will be there,” she predicted with trepidation, hooking a manicured finger on the long, double-stranded pearl necklace that looped down the front of her bosom.

“You know they will be,” Marvin confirmed.

“They offered to help Nancy with food and decorations as soon as Jeff announced the party.”

The three women she named were the office secretaries.  They had been with the company many years and performed their jobs well enough, but they were notorious busybodies.  Marvin was aware that Cassandra was a target of their gossip.  He found it tiresome, but inconsequential.  His wife did not appreciate it at all, however, and she had little regard for them. 

The heels of Cassandra’s tall, black leather boots tapped pensively on the hardwood floor as she paced.

“Why you put up with those hateful shrews is simply beyond me!” she blustered.

“We’ve been through this before, dear,” he groaned.

“Like I said, if you want to just stay home it’s alright.”

“No!  I have made up my mind!” she decreed. 

She dropped her hands to her thighs, smacking them sharply against her leather skirt as if to punctuate her statement.

“I am going to the party with you!”

“Are you sure?” he confirmed cautiously.

“Yes!” she proclaimed.

“I will not give any of them a reason to talk about me behind my back.  If I do not go with you they will gossip all week about what a horrible wife I am not giving my husband a proper farewell before he travels overseas.”

She stepped over to the couch and snatched up her leather coat by the collar.

“But, if one of them says anything rude to me while we are there we are leaving immediately!” 

A vast wave of shiny black lambskin swooshed to her ankles as she swung the coat around her shoulders and slipped her arms into the satin-lined sleeves.  She walked over to the full-length cheval mirror in the far corner, pulling the coat flaps close about herself.

“I didn’t know you cared so much about what those women said,” Marvin commented.

“Oh, their opinion means nothing to me, I assure you,” she huffed. 

“I really should spend as much time with you as I can before you are gone.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, dear, but it’s not like this is the first time I have flown to Germany,” he pointed out.

“You don’t need to go out of your way for me.  Besides, I’m only going to be gone for a week.  I’ll be back home before you know it.”

“I know darling, and I will pray that you return home to me safe and sound every night you are away,” she sighed.

Marvin was leaving for Hanover, Germany that evening to finalize a major deal with one of his company’s biggest parts manufacturers.  Cassandra was not happy about him going on the trip and she made him well aware of it over the past several weeks.  It was her nature to worry, but she usually did not complain much when he traveled for business.  For some strange reason she was overly concerned with his safety this time.  She even tried using their wedding anniversary as an excuse for him not to go, but that was not for another month.  He figured she just heard too many reports about plane crashes in the news.

“Anyhow, the more I think about it I really do feel it is best that I should go to this party.  My intuition is telling me it is the right thing to do,” she declared resolutely.

Her leather coat creaked softly as she buttoned it down the single-breasted placket.

“Well, I guess that settles it then!  I know better than to question your woman’s intuition!” he chuckled.

“You’ve predicted the future correctly too many times for me to argue with you about that!”

Her emerald eyes sparkled at him with amusement in the mirror.  She finished buttoning her coat and rolled the notched collar halfway up behind her neck in her signature way.  She plucked the collar of her white blouse so that it stood crisp from her lapels and tugged the shirt cuffs to her wrists inside her coat sleeves.  Sliding her hands down her flat abdomen she turned from side to side, admiring her svelte figure as it gleamed in the black leather.

She looked like she was going to an art gallery or the symphony, not to an outdoor Halloween party on a farm.  Marvin was not about to tell her she was overdressed, though.  Any less formal outfit would be out of character for her.  Cassandra was just being herself and he liked her that way.     

He approached her from behind and placed his hands on her shoulders.  Her supple lambskin coat felt like cool butter beneath his fingers.

“You’re just as beautiful as the day I married you,” he crooned in her ear, nuzzling her silky red hair.

The floral scent of her perfume filled his nostrils.  He recognized from familiarity that it was Timeless by Avon and it was certainly an appropriately-named fragrance for her.

“That is because I have a wonderful husband who provides so well for me,” she responded sweetly, gazing contently at her reflection.

He did not flatter her just to be affectionate.  Maybe it was difficult for him to tell because he had been with her for so long, but she truly looked the same to him as she did twenty years ago.  Most of Marvin’s hair had turned gray and he was accumulating more wrinkles by the day.  Cassandra seemed to be unaffected by her age, though.  She was just as lovely at fifty-four as she was at thirty-two. 

Marvin considered himself very fortunate to have such a fine lady for a wife.  For all of her quirks and particularities Cassandra had proven to be a great partner in every way.  She played tennis and golf with him, and they enjoyed boating together.  She was his intellectual equal, she was an excellent cook, and once the lights were out in their bedroom she was far from prudish.  

Marvin was a bit of a playboy in his youth.  He was handsome, athletic, and the only child of a wealthy family.  He casually dated more than his fair share of beautiful women and enjoyed every minute of it.  By his early-thirties his parents were pressuring him to settle down and start a business.  He began looking for a potential wife, but every Olivia Newton-John look-alike he picked up in a nightclub turned out to be a gold-digging bimbo.

Then he met Cassandra at a fundraising event in March of 1985.  She was the most striking woman he ever laid eyes on.  Her red hair and porcelain complexion caught his attention from across the room.  She was serenely composed and refreshingly elegant; buttoned up in a burgundy leather blazer, a cream silk bow blouse, and a long, pleated wool skirt.  He was instantly attracted to her in a way he never felt before and couldn’t help introducing himself.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Marvin.  I am Cassandra Pell,” she blushed vivaciously, accepting his handshake with her delicate fingers.

Cassandra was a young widow recently moved to Boston.  It was too traumatic for her to ever speak of in detail, but her late husband died suddenly from a heart attack.  He left her well-off and she emerged from the tragedy a smart, no-nonsense woman.  She possessed the savvy of a person from an affluent background, but she was humble enough to work at a public library and donate her time to charity.  

Marvin discerned that she was looking for serious commitment and something in her tender green eyes told him she was the one; the woman he could happily provide for the rest of his life.  Marrying her was the best decision he ever made and after twenty-two years he had no regrets.  Marvin could hardly imagine having a better wife than Cassandra.  

Her leather coat crackled as she reached into her pockets and pulled out a pair of black lambskin gloves.

“Well then.  I suppose we should be going,” she sighed.

She turned and gave him a peck on the lips before stepping away.

“Go pull the car around to the front door.  That way you can load your luggage into the trunk as we leave.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Marvin agreed, hopping to her command without question.

“I’ll meet you in the foyer while you check my bags.”

He spun around and headed out the doorway, fishing his car keys out of his pocket.

“Oh!  And do not forget to pick up the apple pie I baked last night!  It is sitting on the kitchen counter!  Just lay it in the back seat of the car!” she called after him.

“Yes dear!” he answered dutifully on his way down the hall.

Cassandra’s leather coat creaked tensely over her firm breasts as she inhaled a deep breath and let out another long sigh.  She always felt a little more secure buttoned up inside of her long leather coat and at the moment she relished the luxurious warmth of it more than ever.  If it helped her shake off the nervous chill that froze her to the bone she would gladly keep herself bundled up in the coat for the rest of the weekend. 

She was extremely anxious about her husband leaving for Europe that evening.  She usually did not mind when he travelled.  He went on many business trips through the years, and, truthfully, she very much enjoyed having the house all to herself while he was gone.  The present situation was different, though.  

Cassandra’s life was due to change on their twenty-second wedding anniversary and Marvin flying four thousand miles away less than a month before left her in an uncomfortably vulnerable position.  She dared not tell him why, but it was absolutely vital for Marvin to be with her on the night of their anniversary.  If anything happened to delay his return home by that date he would fail her unforgivably.  Many years of careful planning would be ruined and she would be forced to take drastic measures disturbing for her to even consider.

She complained about the timing of the trip for weeks and pleaded with him to send someone else in his place.  But, Marvin was a typical man.  He dismissed her needs as trivial and stubbornly insisted that he had to go because “he was the only man who could do the job”.

Of course, she realized that she worried herself needlessly and she tried to convince herself that all would be well.  Marvin would return home to her safely just as he had so many times before.  He would provide her what she deserved on their anniversary and her life would go on same as it always had.

Her cashmere-lined leather gloves squeaked softly as she pulled them onto her hands and tucked them neatly into her cuffs.  She glided around the loveseat in the middle of the room to an alcove set within the bookshelves of the facing wall.  An antique oak wood chest occupied the nook with a broom, a cauldron, and a witch hat arranged in a classic Halloween display upon the lid.  

A canvas print of an old Dutch painting hung above the trunk.  It was one of Cassandra’s favorites and depicted a dashing officer clad in breastplate, sword, and tall boots bowing gallantly before a lady in a white silk dress.  Cassandra long fancied such a gentleman greeting her in similar fashion.  If Nathaniel at all resembled the cavalier in the painting, going to the party would be well worth her while.  She smiled wistfully to herself at the pleasant, but unlikely notion.

She picked the witch hat up by its point.  It was the new one she bought specifically for the party.  It cost almost two hundred dollars because it was crafted of genuine, smooth grain black leather with a stylish curve to the wide brim and a gentle crook to the tall, tapered crown.  The hat appealed to Cassandra in a nostalgic way, otherwise she would have never spent so much money on a costume piece.

She swept over to a large mirror hanging above the console table in the adjacent corner.  She raised the hat over her head, holding it by the brim with both hands.  Her movements produced a rustling of crisp fabric and creaking of leather that registered only subconsciously in her ears; after all, it was merely the sumptuous atmosphere she inhabited every day.

She carefully placed the hat at an angle atop her fiery, side-parted bouffant.  Clasping her gloved hands together in front of her chest, she beamed at her reflection with delight.  The hat matched her coat perfectly.  What a smart, sophisticated witch she was!

She continued to stare intently at herself for several seconds as if hypnotized. 

“If only you could see me now, Moira,” she murmured, speaking to someone unseen. 

“I have done just as you taught me and the spell has kept me safe just as you promised.  The time draws near for me to speak the words again.  I can feel it in my bones.  My body aches to be replenished once more.  I am ready to begin a fresh, new life and my husband shall provide well for me.”

Her crimson lips curved into an inscrutable, decadent smile.

“Are you coming, sweetheart?  Or did you change your mind again?” Marvin boomed impatiently from the foyer at the front of the house.

His voice startled her and she gasped aloud.  

She quickly removed the witch hat and glanced in the mirror again to make sure her hair was still in place.  

“Coming!” she answered.

Then she swished away, the heels of her boots clicking on the hardwood floor.