Maripolite

Untitled Part 2

She was lost in the portrait, so much so that she could feel the gentleman behind her staring at her intently; her senses rose and she felt uncomfortable without knowing why. Her mind drifted to her current joblessness and she wondered who comes to a museum in the middle of the day, this thought made her smile and the nearby patron was proof that she was not the only one.

Nathalie thought maybe he was rich and did not have to clock in or out - so he could, how self righteously it would be if it were true. She sneaked a glance over her shoulder and thought that his crisp white shirt and blue jeans could easily pass for 'self-righteous' in almost any setting. 

Her long black hair felt wispy and dry and she longed for her youth and the silky black mane she once had which used to remind Jessie's father of black beauty, Nathalie briefly thought about him as the presence behind her made her increasingly uncomfortable.

It distracted her from the beautiful girl before her offering a prayer to the moon for a better life opening her window and her heart to let the light shine into the darkness around her. She glanced behind her but the gentleman was distracted in his thoughts, Nathalie looked at the picture again, she liked it and did not want to move but wished the patron behind her would; he was ruining her moment with the painting. 

 She turned around and asked "Are you...ok?" annoyingly "why are you standing so close over my shoulder?"

She could see that he was abruptly removed from his thoughts "sorry" he said and asked, "I saw how you were lost in your thoughts, I wondered what was so interesting about the picture?"

"Oh" Natalie responded but she was not in the mood for conversation and only tuned and returned to her painting. His face reminded her of someone long ago however his inquisitive scowl made her feel weak and troubled as most people did these days. Do I really look as week as I sometimes feel? She silently asked herself.

The slim muscular man behind her took a step closer, no other conversation came but she could feel him searching her. She cowered and folded her arms across her chest. She wondered what about her was making him so curious and her frustration billed. 

He was no longer being ominous with his glares but was freely perusing her from head to toe with his eyes in an investigative method. It was time to leave this place as her strength was not at its best neither today nor the years past and she simply could not fight him for her moment.

She asked "Can I help you, sir" and looked directly at him her green maripolite eyes carving into him in unhinged disgust

"I know you from somewhere," He said squinting his eyes appartenly searching for any memory of her 

"Don't think so" Natalie responded

"I am sure of it, what's your name?" He asked pensively, his intrusive questioning was unwanted and she did her best to make certain that he saw it in her eyes

"None of your business," Nathalie said roughly and turned to leave as she felt the wealth of unnerving feelings well up in her chest, she was not interested in offloading on a stranger and only needed her peace today.

She turned to walk away but he was persistent and reached out to hold her upper arm, she spun around and looked at him with such antagonism that it was clear that she had humbled him more than any man would be willing to admit.

She glared at him with such hate and then pulled her arm away and turned to walk towards the door. As she approached the exit "Nathalie" He yelled. Nathalie spun around and looked directly at him wondering how did this stranger know her name?

Nathalie stopped just inside the entrance and stared at the rude man that was intruding on her time. He started walking towards her and she began to search her thoughts and his face to see if she did know him from somewhere as he had noted. 

As he assumed the spot directly in front of her she still failed to recall a memory of him and she assumed him to be a customer from the restaurant and obviously a very rude intrusive one.

"Nathalie," he said with anger and sadness in his voice. "My name is Charles Morgan".

The shock registered on her face and she knew Charles saw it, he was far more masculine than the boy she vaguely remembered from their time together. That was so long ago, he looked taller somehow and chiseled his firm body protruded from his white shirt, he stood stately as he had finally accepted his place as 'king of the castle'.

She had been suffering trying to support his child while he played with pretty young things and lived the good life, her shock transformed to hate and her eyes filled with tears, she wanted to lash out and hurt him for the pain she had endured but instead her heart was pumping and her brain thundered the words choked her.

Nathalie clenched her fists trying to find the words to hurt him, instead the weariness of bearing Jessie's illness all alone, the exhaustion of long working hours and sleepless nights and the unexpected encounter of Jessie's father Charles Morgan all collapsed on her and as she fell to the ground she felt his safe arms catch her and she hoped she would be able to cut them off and feed them to him.