The day after arriving in Hollywood (yes, we are going back to Norma and Stanley's second day in Hollywood) Norma just lay in bed and tried to see how many sounds she could hear. The first, and loveliest sound was the soft breathing of her beloved Stanley next to her, his callipygian form stretched out before her. She wondered if she should cuddle up to him but thought better of it. Leave the poor man alone. He had more than adequately performed his nuptial duties the night before. Their lovemaking had been so vigourous that the bed had threatened to collapse so they'd migrated to the carpeted floor with the bed quilt beneath them.
She closed her eyes and returned to her game. She could hear the in and out of her own breathing as well as the sounds of birdsong through the hotel window. Stanley had leapt up in the middle of their lovemaking the night before to open the window, his cock bobbing like some mechanical toy, exclaiming : 'I can't breathe in here!', before returning to her and her needs. Just when she thought he couldn't think of another way to pleasure her he would come up with something surprising, as though his intelligence and imagination, combined with his natural athleticism, created the possibility of infinite variations on a theme. Of course, it was his playfulness that made it all possible. That, in a way, made her love for him possible. Trying to imagine Stanley without his playfulness was like trying to imagine an aeroplane without propellers. His intimidating personality, his size, his dangerous intelligence would have been unbearable without his charm and pixie playfulness. She was sure she would never have fallen in love him as deeply and completely if he hadn't made her laugh so much on their first date.
Which was another lifetime ago. The birds continued their cheeping and squeaking. A motor car engine popped and roared and she could imagine the owner cranking it then wiping his hands. Down the hallway a door closed. The sound of footsteps on carpet. She opened her eyes very slowly but when she saw the ceiling and the lamp hanging so hopelessly she closed them again and rolled over.
When she awoke the tired and overstretched feeling had left her. She was surprised at how well rested she felt, as though she had slept for a week; as though she had been on a holiday. The day sounded more fully formed and the light on the ceiling several shades lighter.
She was now alone in the bed and could hear the sound of water running in the bathroom. Untethered from her normal morning, from her life and routine in New York, she felt like she was floating, as though carried by the wind or a river. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, no, just new and unexpected. She thought of the way snow fell, white and powdered, all the way down to the street. So lovely to look at from the warmth of the apartment, with the smell of her mother's cooking filling every space and the fire blazing and...oh, no, not homesickness! No, it's just the way it is. You are inside and the snow looks like a picture but imagine tramping through it with a heavy school satchel. Six city blocks is a long way for a little kid and all the slipping and sliding and all those piles of snow.
Here she was in the new world, in her new life with her freshly minted marriage an untested thing, no? And this new town on the edge of a continent, this hotel and in the bathroom her husband is washing and shaving. The shower stopped. Oh! I hope he opens the door. If he opens the door he really loves me. 'Oh, don't be silly, Norma, dear,' she heard her Mother say, chuckling and rearranging her knitting on her lap.
Muffled sounds. Voices. Car engines. Birdsong. A truck turning. And then the click of the doorknob and the door opening and there was her husband standing in the doorway, hair slicked back, still wet from the shower, his chest seal wet. He was lathering soap and applying it with his shaving brush to his chiselled features. 'What a catch,' she thought. What a gorgeous looking man.
'Good morning, beautiful,' he said, smiling.
'Oh, aren't you coming back to bed?'
''Fraid not, my love. The day calls. You should sleep some more and we'll all meet for lunch.'
'Oh no. Lovely thought but I want to get started with my new life. The day calls me too , you know.'
'Would you like to come with me?'
'Oh, can I? I would love that.'
'We'll be looking at some land that Mack says would be perfect. Then we'll be checking our current set up and discussing finances. That should take the whole morning. Then lunch. I need to spend time in the office.'
He turned and walked back into the bathroom. She pushed back the sheets, stood and looked out the window. They were two floors up. To her right she could see the Hollywood Hills. The sky was the same blue as the day before and the breeze carried the scent of desert scrub and wildflowers, as it had last night when he kissed her and told her he loved more and more everyday. After making love, they had held each other and drifted off to sleep.
She let her nightie drop to the floor and surveyed herself in the wardrobe mirror, turning so she could see her profile. She let herself be carried away by her own gorgeousness and her physical perfection then thought, 'Enough of this silliness! Time to wash and dress, do your make up and hair, girl!' She knew exactly what she was going to wear on her first day in Hollywood, which she congratulated herself on. Smart girl. Book smart and street smart. Stanley was a lucky man, wasn't he?
'Yes, yes, Norma, dear, I think we all agree with you on that.'
'Oh, Mother! Don't tease! Do I tease you?'
'When don't you tease me, Norma, dear?'
Then she was under the shower and her husband was shaving, near enough to touch, and if she had wanted to she could have pulled off his towel and taken his cock in her mouth. Oh! For the second time in twenty four hours she felt absolutely, thoroughly and deliquently modern!
Clinton De Vere