She thought about their relationship. It wasn’t working. He wasn’t horrible. However, charm, wit, and persistence could only go so far. After just a few short months he tried her patience.
V listened too the heavy footfall coming down the deck. Mrs. Thayer’s, it had to be. “God I have been here too long. Pretend to be asleep. Don’t move. You can do it, Venus. Just lie still.” V encouraged herself. Mrs. Thayer was too bubbly for her own good.
“V how great to see you.” Rebecca Thayer said happily. “How are you doing?”
V groaned and turned sleepily. “Tired.” V shocked herself with the comment. Her mother was turning over in her grave. She had been taught to be more polite than that.
“Ohhh were you sleeping? Sorry.” Her own unique form of sincerity was evident in her tone. “I just wanted to know how you were. I will talk to you later.”
V opened her eyes and looked at the older woman. She felt so bad for her earlier comment, she couldn’t keep up the charade. “I am awake you can stay, Mrs. Theyer.”
“Rebecca is fine.” The older woman exclaimed. “Please. Mrs. Thayer makes me feel so old. How are you, darling?”
V grimaced. She could deal with darling. With any luck the conversation would not last long. “I am okay. And you?”
“Good, good.” She said happily. “Where is that lovely man?”
Undoubtedly buying me something, V thought. “He’ll turn up.” Like a bad penny.
“He is such a wonderful man. You are so lucky to have him. The way he looks at you, the way he talks about you, and the way he dotes on you, it makes me weak in the knees.”
V smiled politely. It made her nauseous.
Ned drummed his fingers on his desk as he stared into space. After a long moment he looked back at the sheet of music in front of him. He desperately needed inspiration. His music sounded stilted, his words overused. He wondered how to break the cycle. Nothing came to him.
Writer’s block, the most horrible feeling in the world, held firm. Nothing decent had come to him in months. Why? He asked himself for the hundredth time. Of course he knew why. The blues wasn’t his style.
Alexis stopped coming around just a few months after marrying Jax. Chloe moved back to Milan after giving up on Jax. He couldn’t write love ballads when there was no love to be found.
“A new method.” He exclaimed as the light bulb went off in his head. Poets and painters drew inspiration from the scenes they saw. He could too. Looking around the room he searched for inspiration. Dirty dishes, takeout boxes, old newspapers, and dirty laundry surrounded the room. It may be a bachelor’s dream house but it lacked artistic potential.
On the brink of giving up, Ned spotted his inspiration.
Two months had passed since V’s encounter with Mrs. Thayer. Things were better, sometimes. Simon found a baccarat table. He left her alone more often. Less of him was nice, however, it wasn’t enough. “What am I missing?” She asked herself as she looked in the mirror.
The image that met her eyes wasn’t one she liked. She fondly remembered looking in the mirror when they first left on the trip. “I used to glow with happiness. What happened to that?” Even before the trip, in Port Charles, the image was better than the one that confronted her now. She had looked lonely. Still, she had looked happy, contented, and almost fulfilled. Now she looked bored.
V looked around the room for something to occupy her mind. Needing time away from Simon, she declined the dinner invitation. Simon ate with old friends every time they went ashore. He relished playing games, talking, and drinking with old buddies. She didn’t. Now, however, she almost wished she had gone.
At home, even on nights she stayed in, she always had something to do. A case, a phone call to Felicia, or painting. She missed all those things desperately. She had read every book on the boat, she was out of paint, she had nothing to say in letters home. It seemed to get worse every day.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She smiled at the porter. A trip to port meant she got mail. Clutching the stack as if it were cast in gold, she tipped the porter and closed the door. News from the outside world always excited her. Quickly sorting through the mail, she placed Simon’s mail on his nightstand.
She carried the rest of the stack to her table. “I love mail.” Her voice was almost giddy as she went through the mail. It was her lifeline home. The mail was forwarded to whatever port the ship would pull into next. Sometimes the letters she received were current, sometimes they were weeks old. The system wasn’t perfect. Still, it kept her sane.
Ever organized, she sorted the mail into three piles: personal, non-personal, and other. The non-personal excited her least. It contained magazines and newsletters. Those she put to the side, they were great pool side reading. The personal letters made her gleam with happiness. Letters from Mac and Felicia, Chloe, and Jax and Alexis awaited her. She couldn’t wait to delve into them. However the other package intrigued her more.
On the far end of the desk sat a large manila envelope. The return address said L&B records. Ned always mailed her with his personal return address. He never used the business supplies. He said it felt impersonal. Besides, he always wrote letters. This was much too thick to be a letter. “What could it be?” She asked herself as she examined the packaging.
“What are you doing V?” She asked herself aloud. “Just open it.” She instructed herself as she reached for the letter opener.