1972

Chapter One

    When I open my eyes the overcast carries the weight of the room.  Instead of looking around my eyes were intensely focused on him...my whole world. His name is Ivor, probably because his features were stronger than steel and his body scornful like fire. Ivor was an editing professor and an inspiring journalists, every single second was a breath of something new. The only difference between us was that Ivor was 34 and I am 18. 

      "I see your up." He addresses me, still clasping an open book in his hands.

    "What are you reading?"  I respond back tracing the outlines of his lips, all the way to the black lock of hair falling in his face.

   "Just something a student wrote." Flipping a cream coloured page the words were beautifully swirled together.

   "Is she any good?" I ask and he lifts an eyebrow.  "Obviously it's a woman  by the hand writing."

    "She ought to type it, work like this is something place out windows not hiding in corners." Flipping another page, Ivor made me want him more.

    When holding that expensive leather journal  in his hand admiring  someone else's work made me want to prove myself. Silly girl playing in a mans world is what my mother often told me, but with Ivor I hoped this wasn't true. The delicate but tough hands of his putting in over time, his mind racing it was hard to catch up,  and the crude expressions he made often left me floating around like a rag doll. Underneath these sheets I was buried and in this moment I became frozen. The best way to describe what I feel most of the time is like: being stuck in a moment and not knowing the correct thing to say. 

  "Why are you staring at me?" He asks and I feel a warmth come to my cheeks.

   "No reason." I respond back leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. "Do we have plans for today?"

  "Packing hopefully." He says closing the journal up and tossing it on the night stand.

    "For what?" I say confused. "Do you have an article to write?"

     "No." He looks down at me green eyes focusing into my brown ones. "Malinda had invited us to one of her cabins, I was thinking we might head there up first so we can spend some time together." 

    "We can spend time together now." I sit up but he gets to his feet heading for the bathroom. 

   "Pack a bag baby, I want everything you need to fit." He closes the door in my face and I put my head to me knees.

   Coming up behind me I feel a tug around my waist. Ivor finds his hand at the gold buttons of my high waisted skirt and I easy swipe his fingers away. A teasing smile plays on his lips and  I feel a slight victory of the day.  The sun suddenly appeared and everything felt warmer including us.  Looking over I see Ivor placing the leather journal into his bag and I comment about it.

    " You shouldn't be working while your there." I say back now facing him.

"It's not work Letty, it's reading." He remarks.

   "You never read any of my novels like that," I let my emotions get the best of me. " Is my writing simply just work to you?"

    Turning around his drainpipe jeans  hung tight to his body. His expression was something that I'd hadn't seen before and peaked this alarming curiousness  in me.  We were almost  about to tear each other to shreds and I might just like it. 

"You know how I feel about your novels," He completely towers over me with those damn platforms of his. "There's a typewriter In the main house, write me a story and I'll destroy it right in front of you like a plan to do with this one ."

    This was yet another moment I had nothing to say and he new it.  Maybe the main reason why I'm speechless half the time is because I might just cry. We continue to pack in silents and I pick out a few Vinyls along the for the ride. Malinda had the expensive of  machines in each cabin, even a Jukebox in the main house. It was as if talking to her was like meeting a rich character F. Scott Fitzgerald had made up, only in modern days time.

      " We're taking the Benz." He states grabbing the keys off the stand. "I'll see you in the car."