Love & The Goddess (33 page)

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Authors: Mary Elizabeth Coen

BOOK: Love & The Goddess
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“My cousin had Down syndrome. Sadly she’s passed on. I found her so funny and lovable when I was a kid. She made us all laugh.” I tended to the steak, throwing a tablespoon of
brandy on the pan and then lighting it with a match to flambé. Flames burst forth from the pan.

“Christ! It’s gone on fire!” Then he laughed helplessly when I told him it was all in aid of a well-flavoured sauce. I mixed in some cream, a handful of peppercorns and stock,
whisked up the sauce and turned everything out on to two hot plates. “This is heavenly, Kate. Thanks a mill for cooking for me. I love my food, but I’m more accustomed to bacon and
spuds.”

“Well, tuck in and help yourself to some salad for a change,” I said, handing him the salad bowl. As his hand touched mine, a bolt of electricity surged right through me.

“Ever thought of opening a restaurant?” His eyes met mine for a split second. I looked away, could feel a blush rising as I sat at the side of the table.

“Several times, but I find having a secure pensionable job is one less thing to worry about. There’s a lot of extra work to a restaurant between balancing books and getting the
customers in.”

“You seem wasted in a college. Everything about you is creative and enterprising. You’re an innovator and big establishments stamp that out.” He was smiling, his amber-flecked
blue eyes crinkling softly. I felt a sudden glow around my heart which spread immediately all the way up to my cheeks.

“That’s kind – you aren’t far wrong, yet you barely know me,” I said, puzzled.

“I know that you don’t accept the status quo just because everyone else says it’s fine. I know you’re very imaginative and you have a strong aesthetic. It doesn’t
take a genius to figure that much out.”

“Stop or I’ll get a big head,” I said, putting my hand to his mouth. It felt warm and moist. Immediately, without thinking, I moved to kiss him, my lips touching his as they
parted slightly, our breath mingling. Then I pulled back and sat down like a prim school girl who’d been called back to her senses. “Whoops – excuse me!” Embarrassed at my
forwardness, I blurted, “So tell me the bad things you’ve observed about me?”

He was smiling. “Nothing bad, Kate.” He tilted his head sideways while appearing to consider how to phrase what he was about to say. “It’s just you’re still
guarding your heart too much to let anyone in. You haven’t fully gotten over your last relationship. Your beautiful green eyes are full of sadness and you’re doing your best to push
that away rather than deal with it.” He half rose and reached across the table, tracing a finger across my cheek. I could feel my eyes fill with tears.

“And what about you, Geoff? Are you over your last relationship?”

“Ah now, that’s complicated,” he said

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Just that. It’s complicated.” As he smiled, his eyes flickered between something akin to melancholy and mischievousness. I couldn’t tell whether or not he was teasing me
and suddenly felt frustrated. Maybe there was someone else. After all, Myra in the gallery had said she would see him in Dublin and he was still on the dating site. I didn’t want to appear
over-eager by probing too much. Silence descended, and I knew he was not going to be the one to break it, so I stood up to clear the table and at the same time asked him whether he would like tea
or coffee.

I said, “I’d love to see more of your paintings.”

“I’ve some images on my laptop if you have wireless.”

“I do.” I was relieved to be on safe ground and keen to see them. “Why don’t you go out to the living area and set up your laptop while I get coffee ready?”

“Yes, mam.” He put on a mid-western American drawl. “And while I’m there I think I’ll have another fag. Outdoors of course.”

A few minutes later, I arrived out to him with a tray and found him sitting on my sofa, MacBook on his lap. After placing two mugs along with a dish of Pavlova on the coffee table, I sat beside
him, curling up. Despite the fact he smoked, it didn’t appear to linger on his skin which had a warm woody scent mingled with musky overtones from whatever cologne he used. Dewy perspiration
drops caused his wavy blond hair to curl at the temples, like babies’ kiss curls. A wave of desire swept over me and I had a sudden mental picture of losing control and throwing myself at
him, like a hungry wolf. I fanned myself, afraid he might read my thoughts. He looked at me and smiled, then glanced at the coffee table.

“No dessert for you?”

“No, I’m full … Oh my goodness, is that your daughter?” A series of beautiful images had just appeared on his screen.

“Yeah, that’s Shannon. I took these photos of her in the woods.”

“She’s like a model and the photos are stunning – like a magazine spread.”

“That was the idea, in a way. She wanted to model along with going to college, so we did this thing in the woods with her looking like a wood nymph. She gave them to a Dublin agency and
they signed her up.”

“I’m not surprised.” I gazed at the photographs of the tall willowy girl dressed in white chiffon, her strawberry blond untamed tresses tumbling around her face. In one
picture, she wore a coronet of twigs covered in tiny red berries.

“I’m working with one of the photos to turn it into a painting,” he said, showing me an image of an unfinished canvas. “I’ve projected the central image of Shannon
on to canvas and then painted over it with oils. Afterwards I worked on the background to add in all manner of fantasy creatures and plants.”

“And these men and women,” I said, pointing to the subjects of other paintings. “Are they all people you’ve photographed?” As I spoke, I suddenly recognised one of
the models as Myra. So they were old friends and maybe more? I hoped my demeanour didn’t betray any feeling of envy.

“In some cases.” His eyes lit up. “I see you’ve your own Goddess picture in pride of place.” He pointed to my beloved print. “The triple Goddess, Persephone,
Demeter and Hekate the crone.”

“Everyone who comes in here comments on it. You’re the first one to recognise which myth it represents. But then, you’re into this.”

“Yes, more and more. Like I said, mythology suits my genre with its mix of realistic Jungian archetypes and fantasy.”

“You’re a bit of a dark horse, Geoff, if you don’t mind me saying so. You never told me you were into any of this. And how can you read me like you did in the kitchen?” I
asked.

“I’m really a very simple man, Kate.” He closed his laptop and rested it on the table, turning to me, resting his hand on my knee as he spoke. I feared my flesh would burn
through my white jeans. It took a huge effort to push away increasingly erotic images as I gazed into his blue eyes. “I was reared on a farm in County Meath and I’ve been close to
nature all my life. I hope I don’t sound in any way pretentious when I say that some things are easy to see if you don’t allow yourself to be blinkered by the outer stuff in
life.” I could barely take in anything he said as my eyes were drawn to the sensuous curve of his mouth. “Any possessions I have are necessary for work – like my laptop there. I
struggle as an artist to pay my bills but I’m committed to follow wherever my heart leads me.” Then he laughed and said, “I’m not ‘edumacated’ as you are.
I’m only a country boy who likes to feel rather than think my way through things. I was slow to talk as a child so the need to define and analyse things has never been for me. To some people
that would make me a bit on the thick side. I figure things out through art without the need for endless rumination.” He paused, “And on that note I’d better be leaving
you.” He stood up.

My heart sank – had I just received a brush off? “You’re not thick in any way,” I said hurriedly, and was once again disarmed by his enigmatic grin. I didn’t know
if he was enjoying a private joke at my expense and I found myself fumbling as I handed him his jacket, thrown on the back of the sofa. Maybe he thought I indulged in endless ruminations?
“I’ll let you out.” I led the way upstairs. As I walked ahead of him, self-consciousness overtook me and I tripped on the second step from the top.

“Good job we didn’t have the wine,” he said, helping me up. Was it my imagination or was his smile more dazzling than ever? I was relieved to reach the front door without
faltering for a second time.

“Thanks for a lovely evening, Kate.” He kissed me on the mouth as I held the door open. Just as he seemed about to penetrate my lips, he drew back and smiled, saying,
“Let’s be friends, then. Shall we?”

“Yes, of course.”

He turned to walk towards his car.

On my way down to the apartment I wondered had he found me as superficial as I’d found the Tom Ford imitation designer earlier in the day. Maybe he was playing with me? After all, he
seemed to be able to converse intelligently and eloquently in between slipping into acting like an “unedumacated thick” as he’d called himself. He was by far the most interesting
man I’d met and I was hugely attracted to him but he represented several challenges to me. I didn’t know if I was up to facing those sorts of challenges at this late stage of my life.
And I didn’t have a clue whether he was remotely interested in me. One thing I was pleased about was how quickly I’d seen through Isaac, not allowing his ridiculous flattery to blinker
me from the fact he was a moron with an emotional age considerably less than his shoe size. By contrast I could see Geoff’s magnanimous spirit as he engaged with the young artists. After
Peru, I was definitely better tuned into my gut instinct and had finally started listening to it. In many ways the dating had helped to enliven me, and in the process lift that woozy spaced-out
feeling I’d been suffering from. I would return to meditation in an effort to help deal with my issues and keep me balanced in the midst of new romantic stirrings. This time, I didn’t
want to let things run away with me in the way I had allowed my thoughts to construct the elaborate fantasy I’d entertained for Ray.

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-seven

T
he following morning after meditation and breakfast I logged onto my emails and then the dating site. Much to my surprise, Geoff had
already contacted me.

 

Hi Kate,

Glad u left Persephone behind since u make a great Demeter/Demetriana surrounded by nature in ur Peru photos. Whew! A sexy one too in that black dress. Shouldn’t be allowed! Though for
the life of me I don’t know what in Goddess’s name u’re doing on a site like this?

Geoff

 

A flush of exhilaration swept over me as I read his message. I’d convinced myself he hadn’t found me attractive and that perhaps there was something going on with Myra, what with her
antics in the gallery and her presence in his paintings. The one unmistakable fact was that he was still on the website, so that surely indicated he was not in a relationship. It was surprising how
much more flirtatious he sounded on the site – maybe being at a distance helped overcome his shyness.

I decided to be bold and try to provoke a reaction:

 

Hi Geoff,

The Goddess wouldn’t be on a site like this if a certain artist had asked her out. But then he has a complicated love life and heaven knows what that means? Too many beautiful
women?

Kate

 

As soon as I’d sent it, I regretted having alluded to his love life and started mentally beating up on my self. Maybe I’d never hear from him again? Would he think I was desperate?
Then awareness struck and I decided I was right to clear the air. If he didn’t like what I’d said, tough luck – it just meant he wasn’t for me. In fact I was beginning to
think that my hankering for romance probably brought the craziest highs and lows possible and in many ways interfered with my spiritual progress. I didn’t know why internet dating sites were
so addictive, and I vowed that I would soon give them up …

Just then, a message came in from Geoff:

 

My dearest Demetriana,

No it’s not at all complicated that way. I’ll tell u when I see u. The silly artist didn’t think the Goddess would be interested but now that she’s said she is. Well
that’s different! Can I visit u on Friday and bring u to the woods at Coole Park to take some photographs? Ur long red hair loose around your face is a must! How about finishing with drinks
and dinner in a restaurant? Can’t have the Goddess cooking again.

Your humble servant, Geoff

 

I read it and printed it off just to make sure I understood it correctly. He was inviting me out on a date! And he must like the way I looked since he wanted to photograph me, and drinks surely
meant he must intend staying overnight. Did this mean we could finally move from platonic friends to … what? Lovers? My heart started to flutter madly as though it could take flight through
my chest and start humming at the same time. Then I reminded myself that it would be wise to hold off after what happened with Ray. The problem was, I found Geoff totally irresistible.

If Friday had been any slower arriving I would have auto-combusted from sheer impatience and excitement, despite my best efforts to stay calm and centred.

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