Vivienne's parents found the perfect house. A stunning Nineteenth Century Victorian at Rue Renaud, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
One of those houses with personality and vibe; good enough to charm even a reluctant teen into moving to what she dubbed th...
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Gabriel woke in the worst of moods, after spending the night on the couch.
It was not a matter of aching bones. At thirty-seven, he was fit enough to sleep on the floor and wake up to no complaints. Mental exhaustion was another matter. It felt as if he had been fighting something at an unconscious level throughout the night, that managed to drain his energy.
Trying to focus on whatever he dreamt the night before, he barely recalled the giggles in the hallway. There was also a small boy hiding behind the curtains, calling out to a woman dressed in black, his mother perhaps, as if he had forgotten the point of the game, wanting to be found at all costs.
Then there was the other dream.
It was a much more vivid experience. He found himself in formal attire, sitting in the sunken living room, listening to a young woman dressed in a black and white mermaid cut dress, her hair fixed in finger waves. The woman had a silky voice, made even sexier by her choice of song.
It took him a couple of minutes to realize that the diamond snake drop necklace that adorned her neck had transformed into an albino boa. The snake lifted its head with the rhythm, and for a moment, Gabe felt the reptile locked him in its sight, and... smiled?
"Eyes on me," the woman warned. "You are closer to me than you are to him presently, even if it's not your time, just yet. Eyes on me, Gabe, or there will be lots more people attending this concert."
He didn't see them, but something told him the chairs to his left and right had been occupied while he was distracted. He didn't have the strength to look. She said, "eyes on me" and it was a command, more than a suggestion. That woman had the wickedest smile he'd ever seen, and lips so inviting that watching her applying ruby red lipstick was a religious experience unto itself...
"Whatever that means," he mumbled to himself, while stretching, "it probably ends up being my mother's fault. Don't be sorry, mom. I'm good with that."
Mother. The word reminded him of all the stuff left pending from the night before. It was better to start the day at once, make up with Daria and continue fixing whatever was left hanging between his wife and daughter; otherwise the weekend forecast would spell hell.
As he stepped into the library, the faint sound of a ringtone went off in the master bedroom. Daria would be up a d ready in a matter of minutes.
Vivienne, on the other hand, usually tossed and turned in bed until either one of them went knocking, before dragging herself to breakfast.
"Let her sleep a little longer," Gabe chuckled. "The more sleep, the less time to put on makeup. Let her sleep until she's forty."
The smell of honeysuckle body mist and espresso made him aware that Daria had entered the room. She didn't have the most welcoming of faces, but coffee followed by something sweet was as good as a white flag. Soon enough, he'd be tired of winning, and it was not even 7 o'clock in the morning. He took the tiny cup of coffee, not before giving her a quick kiss.
