Today is born the seventh one
Born of woman the seventh son
And he in turn of a seventh son
He has the power to heal
He has the gift of the second sight
He is the chosen one
So it shall be written
~"Seventh Son of a Seventh Son", Iron Maiden
Darra slung her purse over her shoulder and stalked out of her lawyers office. "What a bunch of bullshit!" she thought. Her soon-to-be ex-husband was trying to bully her again, through the courts this time, but almost as awful just the same. This time, the hold-up on her divorce was his petty squabbling over the furniture, of all things. She'd finally told her lawyer to let him have it, all of it, if it would bring this miserable sham of a marriage to an end.
She'd tried for two years to get away from Paul, but he'd always tracked her down. Darra wasn't going back to him this time, never. Five and a half years of hell were enough for anyone. Crossing the busy intersection to get to her car, she thought of all the times she'd given in to Paul and his demands. All the name-calling, the put-downs. "Not this time," she promised herself. It had taken her months to get up the courage to actually leave, and then more time with a therapist to even begin to undo the damage Paul had done to her self-esteem. It was a daily struggle, still, to not see herself as ugly, or fat, but she fought on.
In reality, Darra was anything but ugly or fat. Paul told her she was, but he used words as weapons in his fight to keep her. Her maternal grandmother had been full-blooded Cherokee, and Darra owed her high cheekbones and dark hair to her. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a woman with olive skin and strange hazel eyes flecked with gold. The stares and wolf whistles she earned on the street should have told her how attractive she was, but she'd lost whatever confidence she'd once had.
Driving home, she turned on the radio and fiddled with the controls, trying to find something to listen to other than the depressing news reports, and finally settling on a classic rock station. She turned it up loud, trying to drown out the thoughts of Paul and his stalling tactics. Foghat serenaded her with "Slow Ride" until she swung her car into the driveway of her mother's house, where she'd been living since she'd walked out on her marriage.
Grabbing the latest set of court papers and her purse, Darra dragged herself out of her car, up the walk, and through the front door. The emotional roller-coaster of dealing with her divorce had left her drained and tired, and all she wanted at the moment was a cup of coffee and a place to sit down. When she reached the kitchen, she saw her mother standing at the stove, already working on dinner.
"Hey, Mom," Darra called out while she dropped her purse and the papers on the china cabinet.
Her mother turned from the stove, "Hi, honey. Don't put your things there, they'll just get lost."
"Its just some papers from the lawyer...I'll put them up later. Is there coffee made?"
"Sure is....just made it a few minutes ago."
Darra made herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. "How'd the appointment at the lawyer's go?" her mother asked.
"Paul's being a jerk, but that's no suprise. Now he wants all the furniture, too. I finally just said to let him have it. I'm tired of the whole thing and just want it to be over."
"I know you do, sweetheart," her mother said. "Maybe this will be his last gasp."
"I hope so. Can we talk about something else? I really don't feel like rehashing it all right now."
Darra's mother turned back to the stove, "Sure. Oh! I forgot to tell you, we have a new neighbor. I saw him moving his stuff in next door this afternoon."
"In the Taylor's house? It'll be nice to have someone living there again...it's been empty awhile now." Darra wasn't really that interested in their new neighbor, but any topic besides her divorce would work.
"He's very nice looking - and I didn't see a woman with him, or children, for that matter," her mother softly added.
"Mom, right now I wouldn't care if he was Brad Pitt's identical twin. The last thing I want to think about is another man!"
"I know, honey, but the time will come when you will." Her mother turned and looked at Darra.
"Hopefully not for awhile. I'm going to go upstairs and take a shower, and then maybe a nap." Darra took her coffee cup to the sink and rinsed it out before placing it on the counter. She headed up the stairs and towards the promise of a hot shower and some peace.
=================================
Ashon finished putting the linens on his bed in his new home. "At least I'll have that much done," he thought as he surveyed the organized chaos around him that had resulted from moving, yet again. He'd gotten a few boxes unpacked, but the house was still in a mess, and he had several days of sorting things out to look forward to.
He strolled to the window with the intention of opening it for the breeze, but was brought up short by what he saw across the short distance between his house and the next. Framed in the window of the house next door was a woman. A beautiful woman with long, dark hair and golden skin. She had obviously forgotten to pull the shades and was undressing without realizing she was being watched.
Ashon almost forgot to breathe as he watched her unbutton her blouse, button by button. He longed to put his fingers where hers were now, longed to feel her skin. She tossed her blouse to the side, and reached around behind her to unzip her skirt. He felt a brief sense of shame for standing there, watching, but it passed quickly as he saw her push the skirt down, and step out of it. She again reached behind her, unfastened her bra and let it drop into her hands, before tossing it out of sight. Ashon got a small, sweet glimpse of the swell of her breast behind her arm, and then she bent to slip off her panties.