Chapter 2

5

Not waiting for an answer to his question, the man had helped her back onto her feet, propelling her not only with his physical strength, but by the strength of his personality. A man that before had seemed both intimidating and condescending had suddenly turned garrulous, smiling and talking as if he'd just found a long-lost friend. Supporting her still-weak legs with an arm around her waist, he swept her through a connecting door that lead from his office into a short hallway. Julia barely had time to register the change in scene before she found herself deposited in a very comfortable padded armchair in what looked to be some type of parlor or sitting-room.

"Now, my dear Julia," said the man, seating himself on a sofa to her left, "make yourself comfortable, and my dear wife will be along in a moment with something to help calm whatever nerves you might be experiencing." Noticing her questioning look around, the man added, "I bring all our honored guests here, as I feel this room is so much more amenable to conversation than the office. It's just more... relaxing, I suppose."

Julia agreed with him on that point. When she had first entered his office, Julia had been struck by how... unused it had looked - neat and tidy to the point of being devoid of any sense that an actual person worked there. Only the bookcase, with its jumbled mass of books placed haphazardly from floor to ceiling, gave any hint that the office wasn't window dressing, a photograph from some old edition of House Beautiful reincarnated just for show.

Yet, this room was obviously built for comfort first. Two chairs and a sofa covered in soft red cloth, all overstuffed to the point where a person sank into the cushions when they sat. The end tables were made of solid wood, as opposed to glass or metal; on each sat a nice, unremarkable lamp, neither of which matched the other, but both of which looked right at home. Julia reasoned they were meant to provide light for reading, given that two books sat by the man's elbow underneath one of the lamps, and a pair of reading glasses lay in plain sight beside them.

The table that stretched out in front of her for most of the length of the sofa was truly a coffee table; Julia could see the rings of condensation left from years of cups left sitting on the wood with nothing underneath them. And then, there was the fireplace; the sofa had been set directly opposite along the wall, not seven feet away. She could imagine a winter's day passing in the warmth and flicker of its crackling logs, reclining on the sofa with a book and a cup of hot tea. Truly, this was a room made for people, and she allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment and bask in its comfort.

When she opened them again, her muscles clenched in momentary shock. She had heard no door open, no footsteps coming toward her, yet, suddenly, a woman was standing right in front of her, holding a small snifter of honey-colored liquid. Julia couldn't help but for a moment think the woman was a ghost, as the shimmer of the fire mixed with the woman's pale skin and filmy clothing to make her seem transparent. In Julia's eyes, the woman's body seemed to waver for a moment, light and shadow threatening to render her insubstantial; then, as she stepped forward into the circle of light given by the lamp to Julia's left, the thoughts of ghostly origin fled from Julia's thoughts. Instead, Julia gratefully took the offered glass, and held it between her palms until the other woman had seated herself on the sofa beside the man.

Julia watched as the man turned and took the woman's left hand, bringing it to his lips in a kiss that evolved into a caress, moving finger to finger in succession. Though she couldn't see the man's face, she could see the woman's, and her eyes shone with love and adoration. For just a moment, a sense of envy and emptiness welled up in Julia, and she quickly turned her eyes away from the couple. But even as she looked down into what she presumed was brandy swirling in the glass, the man finished kissing the woman's hand and turned to face Julia.

"I think some introductions are in order, my dear. As you may have already guessed, this is my wife, the beautiful Sarah, who has brightened my days considerably since she consented to marry me almost 19 years ago." He paused for a moment, exchanging warm smiles with his wife, giving her hand a slight squeeze. "I suppose, at this point, it might also be appropriate to introduce myself. Generally, I prefer to remain fairly anonymous, at least until I am sure that those seeking me out are not the scurrilous scandal-mongers of the tabloid press... or worse, those predators who would seek to use what I offer in some sort of criminal enterprise. Therefore, let me rectify my earlier demeanor by welcoming you to my home. My name is Charles... Professor Leland Charles. I certainly hope you will accept my invitation to join us for lunch?"

Julia stared at him, speechless. In the space of a few minutes, he'd gone from being distant, even adversarial, to gracious host and adoring husband. The entire shift of location and atmosphere had her off-balance; without consciously realizing it, she lifted the snifter to her lips and gulped.

She almost immediately realized her mistake; a family friend had once instructed her on the fine points of savoring a fine wine or liqueur: unless meant to be sampled cold, warm the glass between your hands for a few moments; then, swirl the liquid in the glass, holding it under your nose so you could experience the bouquet released by the movement. Julia had done both these things automatically, conditioned by reflex and years of sampling various wines. However, her next move should have been to sip a modest mouthful, and let the alcohol play over her taste buds, savoring its distinctive flavor, before letting it ease down her throat; that would allow her to gauge the effect the alcohol content would have on her throat and stomach, in order not to drink too quickly and suffer the adverse consequences of doing so.

Instead, Julia took a large mouthful of brandy and, without regard for the consequences, swallowed it in one enormous gulp. When the alcohol hit her nearly empty stomach, it rested for a moment, and then ignited like a firecracker. The bile present in her stomach, with nowhere else to go, started rising up her esophagus.

At this point, Julia arose from her chair and started flapping her hand in front of her face as if desperately in need of air. Her hosts watched open-mouthed as Julia gasped once, then again, finally covering her mouth with her hand; tears ran freely from the corners of her eyes. Julia bent at the waist in an attempt to prevent what she knew was coming, but to no avail. In the end, all she could manage to do was keep her mouth tightly closed, and, as her body convulsed twice, her cheeks ballooned. Unable to straighten up, she slowly fell to her knees, the brandy snifter in one hand while the other stayed securely locked over her lips.

Once she was sure that there would be no more eruptions from her stomach, she took a halting breath through her nose, grimacing at the acidic residue permeating her nostrils. Steadying herself, Julia glanced up at her hosts, who had not been able to figure out what was wrong until the moment they saw the distress in her eyes and bulge in her cheeks.

"Oh, my dear girl!" exclaimed the professor, quickly rising from his seat. "Sarah, take Julia to the bathroom; I have a feeling she's going to need to freshen up a bit before lunch." In order to help her to her feet, the professor took the glass from Julia's left hand, and then used his own free hand to pull her up. A moment later, Sarah was on Julia's right, putting an arm around her waist to guide her out of the room.

Professor Leland Charles looked down at the brandy snifter in his hand, and then at the receding backs of his wife and her charge. Shrugging, he lifted the glass to his lips and downed what was left of the amber liquor before he sat the snifter on top of the books on the end table.