Layla's Siren Call

1

Layla thought the house to be eerily quiet.

What passed for the rush hour in this choice residential suburb of Richmond, with its tree-lined roads and many colonial revivalist houses all around, was over some time ago. She would soon get used to being at home again, after a hectic college term spent away, and there would be time to catch up with friends who had not strayed too far from familiar surroundings. But then, they didn’t all have a parent, or stepfather as it was in her case, who was ragingly successful and had bought the stone-built house with its gorgeous rooms, staircases, and mature gardens that dated it back to the 1930s. She wasn’t spoilt but lucky, just as her mom, Eleanor, had been in marrying him. Now, the three of them lived in its gloriously decorated rooms, her older brother and sister long gone. She could have the pick of any bedroom, but had stuck with her favorite, what she called ‘The Orchid Room’ on account of the floral décor on the walls. A large mahogany framed bed dominated the space, but the views of the garden and the trees at the boundaries, made it her special hideaway, were she ever to need it.

And now, as she took in again her only too familiar surroundings, she accepted that she had done just as her Mom had asked of her and would control her excitement at knowing that she would soon see Dan again.

Eleanor had stood by the front door and had spoken out her hopes in a soft voice. “Don’t go making any noise as you walk around upstairs, will you? And not down here, chattering on your iPhone as you do. Dan came home very late last night after his flight from the West Coast was delayed. My poor darlin’ was wrecked by the time he came to bed…”

“You don’t need to spell it out, Mom. I’ve sure learned something in my twenty or so years…”

“I know, sorry for treating you like you were a kid.” Eleanor had been seen rummaging in her tote bag for her car keys, her choice of clothes for the day so smart in a dressed down sort of way; slacks cut to above the ankle, pointed high heel shoes that flattered slender legs and ankles; an eye-catching cream blouse was worn under a jacket with its sleeves partially rolled up. She didn’t need to work, Dan could see to that, but she chose to do so in a local realtor’s office which meant showing possible buyers around homes they had on their books. “A here they are!”

She had a friendly, bubbly laugh, something that she, her daughter, had inherited though it wasn’t quite so deep and sultry.

“Were you still up when Dan got home? I didn’t hear either of you talking.”

“I was in bed, trying to read as I couldn’t sleep until I knew that Dan was home. You know me, I’m restless when he’s not around and he’s back here with us.”

“With you, with you, surely?”

“No Layla, darlin’, with the two of us. Dan cares for you as if you were his daughter…”

“Which I’m not, but I’m glad we’re living here with him. Dan makes me laugh and I can talk to him about college life…college things, you know…?” She remembered blurting it all out.

Eleanor would have seen her daughter’s shrug of the shoulders.

“About guys you meet, is that what you mean?” Eleanor had lingered at the door, sensing that she wanted to get something off her mind. She was seen to flick away stray strands of hair that hung loosely from under a white baseball cap. Her Mom would have seen with that belligerent look in her eyes, how she’d shifted before her. She’d felt at ease, now that she was home again, and could wear a white cropped cotton top matched by frayed cutaway denim shorts. They were clothes that she was often seen wearing when at home. White ankle socks and trainers flattered her toned legs that she was proud of and were regularly waxed.

“They’re all jerks, those I’ve met or who tried to come onto me!” Her Mom had probably not wanted to hear about her love life, somewhat barren as it was and not something she found too easy to talk about.

“I’m sorry,” Eleanor had said, looking at her watch, “we’ll have to talk some more when I get home. I’m going to be late if I don’t get moving!”

“Go, it’s okay, Mom, really it is.”

“I sure hope it is. Remember what I said and perhaps you can make Dan some breakfast but leave it for another hour or so.”

“Sure, I’ll make it along with mine. I need to get used to being in my room again. Thanks for looking after it.”

“It’s no trouble darlin’.” On a kiss and hug, Eleanor was soon gone and she had closed the heavy oak front door on her, seeing Eleanor scurry over the slabbed path until she had turned the corner of the house and taken the path to the garage block.

And there she had left a morning meeting with her busy Mom. The return home from college had coincided with Dan being away. She had wanted to be reunited with him, with a man who had a special place in her life and her heart. It had not always been that way, but her birth father had abandoned them all, was infrequently in any sort of contact, and the longer that had gone on, and she’d been growing up, her dependence on Dan grew stronger.

It wasn’t something she spoke of to either of them, least of all to Eleanor, for there was no knowing how she would react to her daughter, now a young woman through all the anguish of puberty, but with some experience of tawdry get-on with guys, being besotted with Dan.

Treading slowly on the stairs, the boards often creaking under the carpet, she made her way to her room and closed the door. She would occupy herself with some college work, and be distracted in that way. Dan would have to pass her room on his way downstairs.

“I’ll hear and then see you and then things will be better.”

 

2

Dan looked at his watch, the metal wristband had dug into his skin or left a mark upon it, the hairs on his arm entangled and stopping it from sliding down onto his wrist. There had been no calls from Eleanor but he had wished her a good day at her work before turning over and falling asleep once more. The trip, the endless meetings, sleeping in a strange bed in the hotel, then the delay in getting home had all wrought their effects upon him. He had not been up to fully meeting Eleanor’s hopes for a loving reunion, but they had lain naked in each other’s arms and he had fallen asleep without realizing it.

They had met when each of them was on the rebound from failed marriages, his having been childless and Eleanor having three to look after, with Layla the youngest and her only child, the other two from her ex’s previous life, and that Eleanor had never spoken of because she knew nothing of their mother. There had been some years difference between them and that went for Layla too and her ‘siblings’.

What become a mess in their private lives had been brought into quick order and the house they now lived in was located in one of the best parts of the city, the banks of the James River but a short walk away. Both he and Eleanor looked at it as a home for Layla. He stopped short of ever saying that she was their only child, but the bond with the girl was strong and in his eyes special.

He slipped out from under the thin duvet and grabbed for his lounge pants, stripped off so hastily by Eleanor as she thought to take the lead in his welcome home fun. Moccasin slippers were soon on his large feet and he padded to the bathroom to take a leak and studied his reflection in the mirror. He sure looked tired, his face drawn and his stubble-covered cheeks a little sunken.

“You’re getting older, pal,” he muttered as the toilet was flushed and he reached out to grab a thin dressing gown, cinching the silk fabric at his waist. He wasn’t going to bother about his hairy chest being exposed to Layla’s sight if she was around, the young woman wisely deciding not to disturb him. He’d texted her to say that he would be home way too late and for her not to wait up for him as Elanor had done.

The floorboards creaked as he passed her room and went down the stairs. Some local music station was heard from the kitchen and he saw Layla swaying to the music, her hair tumbling down her back and a white cap on her head.

She gasped as he touched her shoulder. “At last! I wondered if I should knock on the door to your room!”

“I had to sleep in.” He felt Layla search for his hand before she gripped it tightly. “It looks like you’ve made yourself at home.”

She saw him smile and reach out to tip her baseball cap forward until it fell to the floor between them. He knelt to sweep it up before she could react to his playful greeting.

“It feels that way, now that you’re here,” she said, finally, choosing not to put on the hat. “I didn’t hear you come home last night.”

“It was late and your Mom had to have her say on things…again.”

‘”Things’ being that you want kids and she doesn’t after what she’s been through?”

He delayed answering and poured out a large beaker of coffee. “Those muffins look good…”

“I made them for us, warmed them up for a while,” she corrected before following him to the breakfast bar and sitting on one of the bar stools, shifting it so that she could be close to his side. “Mom’s told me about what you’re hoping for with her, you know?”

“I didn’t know, but I’m not surprised. And, it sure isn’t getting us very far.” He shrugged and took sips from his coffee, reaching across the counter to grab a bottle of maple syrup. “I need a little energy boost…”

“And Eleanor’s understanding. I heard you, the last time I was here, talking and arguing about it.”

“I didn’t know about that either. We’ve gotten into that way of things sometimes, a spiral of saying things we don’t mean.”

“You don’t know that I’m on your side, either, do you?” She gripped his wrist and stopped him from pouring out the syrup he wanted. “I heard you say that the house is way too big for just the two of you and when I’m not here. It was a family home for a while before the others moved on, and I’ll…”

“And you’ll soon be gone too,” he interrupted, smiling and looking at her, delighting in how Layla’s cotton top shaped her. It was like a second skin, and he shouldn’t be feeling the way that he now was when in the company of a young woman. “Yes, I know that day will also come. There’s no escaping that, but at least your mother and I are getting used to the idea of it happening.”