Perfect Strangers (4 page)

Chapter 6

Veronica arrived home and immediately began doing the chores she needed to do before she got dinner started. She went up to the bedroom and stripped the sheets off the bed, putting them in the laundry. While those were being washed she set to work vacuuming the carpets.

As she made her way from room to room her mind kept wandering back to the conversation she and Jason had. And to him approaching her in the parking lot after the walk. It felt like a dream, like it didn't actually happen and the walk had just turned out like any other walk.

She imagined the water tower. He said the view there was incredible. Did he mean from the ground, or … from the top? Is that what he meant? Was he planning on breaking into the water tower tonight? What if they were caught?

The vacuum cleaner bumped into the couch, interrupting her thoughts. She moved around it and kept going around the room.

Besides, even if she did go, what would she tell Greg? He would be suspicious about her going out with some guy she'd just met, and rightly so. And she wasn't going to lie to him about it. There just wasn't any way she could go, plain and simple.

Veronica turned off the vacuum and put it away. She went down to the laundry room and switched the sheets over to the dryer. Once they were going she got out the mop and set about washing the floors in the kitchen.

He said the view there was incredible. Veronica wondered how far you could see from that high up. To the edge of town? Probably. But they would definitely have to break in to get up there, and she had no idea how to do that. Maybe he did. They didn't open the water tower up to just anyone after all, especially at night.

But that didn't matter, though! Because she wasn't going to go tonight. She was going to cook dinner, and eat it with Greg, and then he would watch TV and after they would go to bed together. The end.

When Veronica finished cleaning the floors and drained the sink, she put the mop away and thought that she should probably have a shower if she could. If she had time.

~~~

Greg arrived home at a quarter after five, just as Veronica was putting dinner on the table. He made himself a drink in the kitchen, sat down at the table, and stuffed a forkful of food in his mouth before Veronica had even finished serving.

"Christ, I'm starving," he told her through a mouthful of food. "I had to skip part of my lunch to get Sampson's reports in on time. Let me tell you, you'd better be thankful for all of the work I do to keep this house running. I don't just sit around all day and eat bon-bons."

Veronica put the serving dish down and sat in her chair, placing the napkin over her lap before picking up her knife and fork.

"I do appreciate it, sweety," she said. "Thank you. How's the pork?"

"Good," he said, not looking up from his plate. He chewed his food noisily, shoving huge pieces of meat into his mouth.

"You know, the food's better if you stop to taste it," she said, watching him.

"I promised some guys from work I'd play hockey with them. I told them I'd be out after I ate."

Veronica's heart skipped a beat in her chest. "You're going out tonight?" she asked.

"Yeah," Greg said, shoving another forkful of food into his mouth. "We might go out to a bar after the game, I'm not sure."

"Oh," Veronica said, her heart hammering now. She held her mouth open for a second before saying, "Actually, Nancy invited me out for drinks tonight as well, so I might be out late." And then, "We're meeting at nine."

"Whatever," Greg said. He shoved the last forkful of food into his mouth and got up. "Okay, I gotta run." He headed for the door and left, slamming it behind him.

Veronica looked at his plate, smears of mashed potato and strewn peas all over it. Her heart was still beating hard as she cut up a small piece of pork, slowly placing it in her mouth and chewing.

Chapter 7

When Veronica finished her dinner she put the leftovers away and did the dishes. It was only six o'clock by the time she finished, and the water tower was just 10 minutes away. She wandered around the house, wondering if she needed to do any more cleaning. She settled on dusting, grabbing a clean rag and the bottle of orange oil from under the sink. Moving from surface to surface, she wiped over shelves and tables, making them shine.

She really took her time, and when she was done she looked at the clock. Seven thirty. She realized that her hands now reeked of orange peel and remembered that she wanted to have a shower. She went to the bedroom, stripped off her clothes, and started up the shower. She spent a long time trying to get the orange scent out of her skin, and when it was finally gone she decided that she might as well wash her hair.

As she rinsed the conditioner out she looked down at her legs, noticing that they were kind of stubbly. She grabbed the shaving gel and razor, lathering up her legs and dragging the blade over them, being careful not to nick herself. She rinsed them clean and washed them again with body wash, to cover the smell of the shaving gel.

At last she got out of the shower, wrapping her hair in a towel as she walked into the bedroom. The clock said 8:17 and she stopped dead. She quickly dried herself and decided to blow-dry her hair, knowing that it would be a frizzy mess when she was done.

At half-past eight she turned off the blow dryer, her hair dry but tangled. She plugged the straightener in and walked into the bedroom to the closet, searching through her clothing for something to wear. She pulled out outfits one at a time and looked at them for a second before shoving them back. Finally she found some slim blue jeans and a red blouse that went well together. Throwing them on the bed, she made for the bathroom again where she quickly straightened her hair, keeping it at least under control.

When she came out again it was 8:43. She swore to herself and quickly got dressed, then dashed to the bathroom to make sure she looked halfway decent. She realized she wasn't wearing any make-up and swore again as she fumbled for her mascara. Carefully applying it, she put on some lipstick and a tiny bit of eye shadow. At last ready, she ran to the front door, put on her boots, grabbed her coat, and left.

Veronica quickly got into her car and started it up. The clock flashed 8:54. She backed out of the driveway a little too quickly and sped off for her destination, hoping to God that she didn't get pulled over or stopped at a red light.

~~~

Luckily for her there wasn't much traffic and Veronica made it to the water tower just a few minutes after nine. She saw Jason's black car and pulled up behind it at first, then after a moment, swerved back out onto the road and drove a little further on, parking up ahead.

When she turned off the car and got out, she looked around but didn't see him anywhere. She glanced up at the water tower
— the huge white-grey beacon at the top of a shallow hill. Figuring that he must be up there already, she walked up the hill toward the base of it.

The tower itself was an enormous structure, about 100 feet high with a large flared top. It was around 20 feet in diameter and could be seen from miles around. Veronica and Greg usually used it as a landmark whenever they were coming back from driving in the country. That night it stood out like a ghostly apparition, glowing faintly against the black backdrop of the sky.

Veronica crested the hill and saw Jason standing by the tower wall, smoking a cigarette. He was wearing the same thing he had worn at the walk. He turned his head as she approached him and raised a hand in greeting.

"Hey," he said as she came up to him. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."

"Well, I was debating it," she told him, "but you made the view sound so amazing so I figured why not, right?"

Jason nodded, the corners of his lips turned up in a smile. He blew out a stream of smoke and flicked the cigarette away.

"Shall we, then?" he asked, and he lead the way around the tower as Veronica followed. "Nice outfit, by the way," he mentioned, his head half-turned.

Veronica felt her heart skip a beat as her cheeks flushed.

"Thanks," she said.

They didn't speak again until they reached a door on the opposite side of the tower. Jason stepped up to it and reached into his jacket, pulling out a roll of cloth tied with a string.

"Are we doing anything … illegal?" Veronica asked tentatively.

Jason pulled out two small wire instruments before dropping to one knee and fiddling with the lock.

"Yes," he said curtly. "You can go now, if you want. I won't stop you."

Veronica swallowed. "No, I'll stay."

Veronica didn't speak while Jason continued to pick the lock, concentration on his face. Finally he made a small sound of satisfaction and the barrel of the lock turned easily. He stood up and put the tools away, then grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, holding it for Veronica to enter. She stepped into the pitch blackness inside, Jason following and shutting the door behind them.

Veronica couldn't see a thing. She heard their footsteps on the hard concrete floor echoing around, but that was it. Then, to the side and behind her, she heard a scraping noise followed by a small click. The interior became flooded with light and Veronica had to blink for a second while her eyes adjusted to it.

When she was able to see, Veronica looked around in awe. They were inside of a huge concrete column that stretched up for almost 100 feet. The interior was mostly empty except for some metal piping that ran up the sides, equipment on the ground floor, and a circular staircase that hugged the wall and wound all the way to the top.

"Wow," Veronica said as she craned her neck upwards. She spotted a door at the top of the tower, where the staircase ended. "Is that where we're going?"

"Yep," Jason said, and he started for the base of the stairs. Veronica followed him and the two began climbing up.

It was a long way to go, and Veronica's body was not used to so much exercise. She wasn't able to move as quickly as Jason, even despite the fact that he was a smoker. When they were partway up the stairs and the distance between them had grown, he slowed down without saying anything, allowing her to catch up and continuing at a slower pace.

~~~

Finally they reached the top of the stairs where the door was.

"Do you … have to pick this one too?" Veronica asked, trying to hide her heavy breathing.

"No, not this one," he told her, and he opened it out onto the observation deck. Jason walked through, holding the door open again for Veronica to follow. He closed it behind them, the sound of the heavy metal cutting through the silence of the night.

Veronica was immediately captivated by what she saw. Jason was right: the view here was incredible. She walked up to the railing and looked out over the landscape of the night. There were thousands of lights from the many homes below, all blinking in the distance. She could see them for miles, a vast ocean of dark speckled with pinpricks of light.

Up above them the sky was devoid of clouds, affording them a magnificent view of the stars. They were high enough up that there was no light pollution, allowing the stars to shine through like brilliant diamonds on a black backdrop. Veronica held tight to the railing and tried to take in as much of the view as possible.

"This is incredible," she said in a hushed voice. Jason stepped up beside her, placing his hands on the railing.

"I come here when I need to get away from things or be by myself," he said.

A cool wind blew past them both, sending chills down Veronica's back.

"Do you find that you need to get away from things a lot?" she asked.

Jason kept looking ahead. "Sometimes," he said without turning.

Veronica looked back out, staring down at the numerous lights below.

"I find sometimes I need to get away from things myself," she said, half to herself.

"And do you?" Jason asked.

Veronica thought for a second, sighed.

"No," she said finally. "I don't."

"Why don't you?" Jason asked. His voice was calm, but Veronica heard accusation behind his words.

"Because," she said. "Because I have a life set up that I have to maintain. Because if I let it go then who knows what'll happen? And I ... I have a husband, who depends on me. He would probably leave me if I didn't keep everything held together."

Jason didn't say anything for a moment. And then, "Sometimes things can get overwhelming, and it can seem like it's too much. So you have to remember to take care of yourself too. If you try to take everything on by yourself you'll fail, and it'll all come crashing down around you."

"Is that what happened to you?" Veronica asked.

She immediately regretted asking it the moment the words left her mouth. She turned her head to see if he was mad, and Jason turned his too, their eyes meeting each other in the dark.

"Yes," was all he said.

Veronica found herself locked in his gaze. His stare was intense, almost as though he were digging below the surface of her mind, penetrating her brain.

"Why did you ask me to come out tonight?" she asked, the words coming out softly, a hush on the wind.

Jason again stayed silent for a moment before speaking.

"I think I see something in you," he said. "Something that's hidden and wants to come out. But I think you don't know what it is, or really, what you would do once you found it."

Veronica didn't know what to say. She saw Jason blink and his eyes travelled down to her mouth. She felt frozen to the spot, but she wasn't nervous, or scared. Veronica licked her lips as she studied Jason's features: the faint scars on his skin; the stubble ever-present on his cheeks; his full, rich, inviting lips.

She could hear her own breathing, heavy and impassioned. Jason's head tilted to the side and moved closer, and she felt her eyes slowly flutter closed. A second later she felt his lips press up against hers, the stubble on his cheeks just grazing her own.

Veronica's head swam as Jason kissed her, and a moment later she kissed him back. She felt a hand find its way to her arm as they pulled closer together. Reaching up, she grabbed onto his leather jacket, seizing a handful of the thick material, breathing in its scent. She felt his lips part as his tongue moved against her lips, and she opened her own mouth to let him in.

Their tongues danced together as Jason's hands ran down to the small of her back. Veronica returned the favour, grabbing onto the back of his jacket, pulling his body tight against hers. She felt light-headed as his hands ran up and down her body. She could feel how strong his fingers were, grabbing at her skin through the blouse, pulling at the fabric that separated the two.

Jason turned their bodies around so Veronica was facing inward and pushed her back against the railing. She felt the cold, hard metal jut up against her lower back as Jason's weight held her pinned to it. He ran his hands up her back to her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She could feel the hardness of his stomach, his chest expanding and contracting as he breathed heavily through his nose.

Another hardness appeared as Jason leaned forward, his hips pressing into her own. Veronica felt a bulge, a very familiar bulge, pressing against her pelvis and her heartbeat raced. This made it all too real. She felt the heat of his body on hers, the urgency with which their lips pressed together. He pushed his lower self up into her and she let out a moan, the singular sound escaping her throat before she even knew it existed.

Jason's breathing hardened. He took his hands off of her for just enough time to shirk off his jacket, letting it fall to the ground behind him. He wrapped his arms around her again and now Veronica could feel every muscle on him. She touched his back and felt the hardness on him, his shoulder blades working as he held tightly to her. She had forgotten just how powerful a man's body can feel when he takes good care of himself.

There was a warmth that appeared in Veronica's belly, a familiar feeling that it seemed had left her long ago. She felt it stirring, deep inside of her, making her chest flush and her heart beat faster. Jason's hands moved up to the shoulders of her coat, pulling it down off of her arms, leaning back so she wasn't pinned. Veronica let him take it off of her, not opening her eyes, and when she heard it fall onto the grating floor she leaned back again, Jason pressed against her once more.

The cool air made goosebumps stand out on her arms. She held more tightly to Jason's body and ran her hands up and down. His back was a landscape of muscle and definition. He was wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt, tight-fitting, and she found her fingers going to the bottom of it. Grabbing a hold of the fabric, she started pulling it up, revealing the smoothness of his skin, the warmth of it on her hands.

Jason took his weight off of her and lifted his arms. Veronica kept pulling up on the shirt, watching his torso reveal itself as the fabric pulled away. Jason's body was tattooed, colourful drawings etched into his skin, around his ribs, his shoulders, his arms.

But more than the tattoos that Veronica saw were the faint traces of scars that showed up white against his skin. They were few but visible, one running from the top of his right pectoral across to the middle of his chest, another just below his ribs. He also had a few running across his shoulders and down his arms. She pulled the shirt off over Jason's head and held the fabric bunched in her hands, watching him breathe.