{"id":14027,"date":"2025-07-14T13:36:26","date_gmt":"2025-07-14T18:36:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/?page_id=14027"},"modified":"2026-04-01T02:03:18","modified_gmt":"2026-04-01T07:03:18","slug":"magdalene-chapter-11","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/extras\/music\/magdalene-soundtrack\/magdalene-chapter-11\/","title":{"rendered":"Magdalene, Chapter 11"},"content":{"rendered":"
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This is Chapter 11 from Magdalene<\/em> linked from the second round of the Group Creativity Experiment<\/a>, featuring \u201cFairground\u201d by Simply Red.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cFairground\u201d by Simply Red<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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WHEN DID YOU FALL<\/p>\n

I OPENED MY DOOR at two minutes to eight to see him standing there relaxed, his hands in his jeans pockets, a long wool overcoat swept back behind his strong arms. His sandy hair glinted a slight red in the glow from the street lamp and his eyes seemed lighter in the reflection off the snow. He had a sly smile on his face and I wondered if he would kiss me at the stroke of midnight.<\/p>\n

Was it only a month ago I\u2019d thought him ordinary?<\/p>\n

\u201cCome in for a minute,\u201d I said with an unintentional huskiness to my voice. I stepped aside, but his smile change from sly to amused and he said,<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, but no. Not coming in.\u201d<\/p>\n

It took me a second or two to figure that out, then said, \u201cYou think I\u2019m going to seduce you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAttempt to.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smirked.<\/p>\n

\u201cAppearance of impropriety and all that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

Chuckling, I went to find my coat, then shoved it into his hands when I stepped out onto the stoop and locked my door. He assisted me into it as I had expected him to.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you get my test results?\u201d I asked as he handed me into the car he\u2019d hired for the night. I slid over a proper distance so that he wouldn\u2019t be too<\/em> tempted.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I did, thank you,\u201d he said with a chuckle. \u201cAnd I turned off my phone.\u201d Onc he was comfortable and we were on our way, he looked at my lap, grasped one of my hands, and wrapped my fingers up with his. \u201cDid you have a good birthday?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly because of you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Oh, my God. I hadn\u2019t really said that, had I? I had. His frown told me I had. \u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d he rumbled.<\/p>\n

\u201cUh \u2026 \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you telling me that your family didn\u2019t do anything for you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh \u2026 \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd your daughters all live at home, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked past him out the window, seeing nothing. \u201cNew Year\u2019s Eve is \u2026 New Year\u2019s Eve. It\u2019s special to them. It\u2019s always been difficult.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEven when you were a kid?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUm \u2026 \u201d I cleared my throat. \u201cNo. My parents\u2014 They made sure to put me first. Then \u2026 \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen \u2026 ?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen I got married,\u201d I said flatly, hoping he would back off. He knew what had happened\u2014at least, what was in the public record as having happened.<\/p>\n

His jaw clenched then and he looked away as if to hide it. His hand closed a little tighter on mine, and I wondered\u2014 \u201cDo you ever get angry? Really angry?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me sharply and his expression melted into a smile immediately. \u201cNot much, no,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m pretty easygoing.\u201d<\/p>\n

Liar.<\/em><\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t say it, though. He\u2019d deny it and I really didn\u2019t want to spend my evening trying to get him to admit something probably very few people knew about him.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat book you sent me,\u201d I said. \u201cI like it so far. Thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow far in did you get?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAng\u00e9lique\u2019s marriage.\u201d I launched into the oddity of his having chosen that particular book to send me and why, and, because I couldn\u2019t keep my fucking mouth shut, I said, \u201cDid you send that to me because of my<\/em> marriage?\u201d<\/p>\n

He started. \u201cNo. I\u2014 It\u2019s my favorite book. It \u2026 helped me get through a rough time in my life. I didn\u2019t see any connection in it. I wanted to\u2014 Um \u2026 \u201d<\/p>\n

I closed my other hand over the knot that his and mine already made. \u201cIt\u2019s okay,\u201d I murmured. \u201cIt wouldn\u2019t have bothered me if you had. I was curious, is all. Big coincidence.\u201d<\/p>\n

He stared at me for a second, his expression somber. \u201cTell me about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

I took a deep breath and sighed, then shifted to make myself more comfortable. I knew what he was asking and I didn\u2019t pretend otherwise. \u201cGordon was twenty-five. I was fifteen and madly in love with this dashing older man. He saw me as a well-behaved little girl \u2026 a pretty life-sized doll who could walk and talk. He didn\u2019t object when his father and my father set up the deal. I sure as hell wasn\u2019t going to object.\u201d I stopped, thought back. It was humiliating, thinking how I\u2019d doodled Gordon\u2019s name on my notebooks, being so very \u2026 fifteen<\/em> about it. But fifteen was fifteen and not forty-six, and was to be expected. I was far more forgiving of, say, my twenty-four-year-old assistant\u2019s crush on the kid in payroll than I was of my fifteen-year-old self.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe had three years of an entirely chaste and fairy princess courtship. I thought Gordon refused to kiss me because I was underage, which only proved to me that he was honorable. We got married a week after I turned eighteen. My father didn\u2019t figure out until my wedding day why Gordon\u2019s father was so eager to get us married off.\u201d I laughed. \u201cHell, Gordon<\/em> didn\u2019t even know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen\u2019d he come out?\u201d<\/p>\n

The warmth of Mitch\u2019s big hand seeped into my cold ones. \u201cWhen he got out of prison. Before he went into treatment.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd your father put you in that position, even though he knew.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn\u2019t know<\/em>,\u201d I said. \u201cHe suspected. Didn\u2019t know what to do because if he were wrong, it would\u2019ve blown back on all of us very badly \u2026 I try to give him the benefit of the doubt.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI see. You were the one hit with all the aftershocks.\u201d<\/p>\n

I shrugged. \u201cI was a good girl. I did what I was told.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUntil you couldn\u2019t anymore,\u201d Mitch muttered, his head bowed and his voice far away. I leaned forward a little to look up into his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cMitch?\u201d<\/p>\n

He glanced up at me, then chuckled wryly. \u201cYou and Mina. Good girls backed into a corner, then came out fighting.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour wife?\u201d I asked, not in the least bit jealous. I\u2019d be suspicious of any man who didn\u2019t want to talk about the woman he had loved so long, the mother of his children. After years of studying men, fucking a good many of them, and acting as overpaid therapist to more than a few, I had come to the conclusion that ones who\u2019d lost beloved wives after long marriages made excellent relationship material, and I wasn\u2019t threatened by a ghost.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was seventeen when we met,\u201d he said slowly. \u201cVery shy, soft-spoken, eager to please. Physically delicate. She was sick even then, but nobody knew it. She had never rebelled, not even so much as smarting off. I was \u2026 without prospects, so her father\u2014 He was\u2014is\u2014a CPA with his own successful firm, very upper middle class. He disapproved of me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPutting it lightly?\u201d I asked, hearing the edge in his voice.<\/p>\n

A corner of his mouth turned up. \u201cI think you read me too well.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think you let me.\u201d<\/p>\n

He tilted his head in acknowledgment of that.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I \u2026 stole her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStole <\/em>her? From whom?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHer father. The man he wanted her to marry. They had it all arranged for her to marry him the week after she graduated from high school.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you eloped? How\u2019d that work out with her family?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDisowned her. Never spoke to her again. I got into S&T, so after she graduated from high school, we moved to Missouri and stayed there for eight years. It was easier for her that way, anyway. She could use distance to excuse them.\u201d<\/p>\n

Well. Mina Monroe and Cassie St. James, two sides of the same coin.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mitch waved a hand. \u201cHer mother died before she did. Her father never had anything to do with me or the kids.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStill?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStill. My son is having a hard time with it right now, same way my daughters did. Do.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd \u2026 what\u2019s your<\/em> ex-father-in-law doing these days?\u201d<\/p>\n

That startled a delighted laugh out of me, as he had surely intended. \u201cMy<\/em> ex-father-in-law is working at a convenience store somewhere on the Tex-Mex border.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much of a hand did you have in that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBoth hands, both feet. And I make sure to keep my stiletto heel in his jugular at all times. Revenge is best served in a Slurpee cup, you see.\u201d<\/p>\n

He and I laughed, and we were still laughing when our car pulled up to Bryant Park. \u201cMitch,\u201d I drawled, not in the least surprised. \u201cIce skating? What a chick-flick clich\u00e9.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d he said as he got out and pulled me out after him, \u201cit\u2019s free and I didn\u2019t have much money left after that ridiculously expensive basket I sent you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t tell anybody I\u2019m such a cheap date. Did you make those cookies?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh, no. The young ladies in my ward\u2014parish\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got the lingo now, Mitch. Ward, not parish.\u201d<\/p>\n

He grinned. \u201c\u2014were making them as a service project, so I asked my Relief Society president\u2014my female counterpart in the ward\u2014to swipe a few, write the words, and wrap it up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cService project?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. It\u2019s where somebody in the ward is identified as being in need of having something done. Sometimes it\u2019s a job the teenagers can handle with little or no supervision. They get together and work on it, get it done. Project. Service. Service project.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not in your ward-slash-parish.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, but I<\/em> am. And I was in great need, let me tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n

We laughed.<\/p>\n

And continued to all evening as we attempted to skate, neither of us very good, leaning against each other, propping each other up, occasionally pulling the other one down. We may have spent more time upright than on our asses, but I wouldn\u2019t have bet on it.<\/p>\n

Breathless, we retired to a bench a couple of hours later to watch others who were far better than we were. Mitch draped his arm around my shoulder and I snuggled in for warmth. He curled his free hand around mine, and I felt his strength even through several layers of wool.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you staying?\u201d I asked. \u201cDid you drive?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI drove. Staying at The Mark.\u201d<\/p>\n

I glanced up at him, surprised. \u201cJust around the corner from me!\u201d<\/p>\n

He simply smiled, which carved concentric laugh lines into his cheeks.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re ornery.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat I am,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat would God say about that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGod made mosquitoes.\u201d<\/p>\n

I burst out laughing then. \u201cPoint taken. Then I will assume you have something planned?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy only plan was to spend the day with you, if you were free.\u201d<\/p>\n

I was supposed to go shopping with Clarissa, during which she would attempt\u2014and fail\u2014to wheedle a five-thousand-dollar dress out of me. Boy, would she be pissed when I canceled. \u201cI\u2019d like that,\u201d I said, more softly than I\u2019d intended to. \u201cBut not in my house?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot alone, no.\u201d<\/p>\n

I tried to be angry, but I couldn\u2019t. It was simply too funny.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, yeah,\u201d he muttered. \u201cHa ha ha.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, don\u2019t be mad. I haven\u2019t laughed this much with a ma\u2014\u201d Well. He didn\u2019t need to know that.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think,\u201d he said slowly, looking off into the distance, \u201cthat it\u2019s time for hot chocolate and brownies. Jacques Torres.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you talking about? They close at nine on Friday and maybe earlier today.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure about that?\u201d<\/p>\n

My breath caught. \u201cYou evil man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe epitome.\u201d<\/p>\n

WE HAD THE CHOCOLATERIE to ourselves, and we were seated with much ado\u2014New Year\u2019s Eve, almost three hours past their closing time and coming up on midnight. People were knocking on the door to get in, but were ignored.<\/p>\n

Midnight.<\/p>\n

I was getting jittery, wondering how Mitch kissed, unable to wait for the new year when I would feel his mouth on mine.<\/p>\n

Happy birthday to you \u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

I gasped and turned in my seat when the singing began.<\/p>\n

A cake.<\/p>\n

With sparkler candles.<\/p>\n

Fuckers wouldn\u2019t go out when I blew at them, either. There were only four, but they kept sparking and sparkling. I kept blowing and blowing.<\/p>\n

\u201cDammit!\u201d I plucked them out of the cake and dunked them in my water glass.<\/p>\n

Mitch roared with laughter. I tried not to, but failed.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat was a nasty little trick,\u201d I grumbled. He opened his mouth, but I held up a hand. \u201cI know, I know. God made mosquitoes.\u201d<\/p>\n

The cake was cut and we each had a piece. There were chocolates and hot chocolate and ice cream and fruit and by the time we left at two, we were buzzed on sugar. We bounced nonsense off each other, in hysterics over things that, in daylight, would be simple stupidity, not even worthy of eyerolling.<\/p>\n

The hour, the laughter, the sugar, the dark, the cold kept at bay in the back of a warm car with a warm and attractive man\u2014 It made me say and do things I knew I would find humiliating in the morning because they were so very \u2026 fifteen<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t get my midnight kiss,\u201d I whined, but it had taken me almost the entire distance home to cut through our silliness enough to remember it.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were otherwise occupied blowing out candles, and now it\u2019s too late.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s never too late for a kiss.\u201d<\/p>\n

He cocked one eyebrow at me. \u201cYou think?\u201d He shifted and leaned toward me and, with a sigh, I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n

And he kissed me.<\/p>\n

My eyes popped open. \u201cWhat the hell was that?\u201d I demanded.<\/p>\n

He spread his arms, all wide-eyed innocence, and said, \u201cI kissed you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOn the tip of my nose! I barely felt it!\u201d<\/p>\n

I was squeaking. Oh, God, I was fucking squeaking<\/em>!<\/p>\n

\u201cYou weren\u2019t very specific.\u201d<\/p>\n

I screeched. He laughed. I screeched louder, but it turned into a fit of giggles. I fell over and lay across the car seat with my head in his lap, simply looking up at him. He smiled and smoothed my hair, picked up a strand only to let it slip through his fingers.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m drunk,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know. You\u2019re worse than a toddler. Can\u2019t hold your sugar worth a darn.\u201d<\/p>\n

I blinked. \u201cDarn?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s right.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sat up. \u201cYou don\u2019t swear?\u201d<\/p>\n

He shook his head slowly. \u201cNever.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou better write me a list of things you can\u2019t do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTomorrow. It\u2019s a long list.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd then I will attempt to get you to do them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI would expect nothing less.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sobered a bit. \u201cMitch, I\u2014 I wanted to tell you. Tonight was \u2026 \u201d He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed my face. Benadryl. I needed Benadryl. \u201cThis was the best birthday I\u2019ve had in a long time,\u201d I murmured. \u201cMaybe ever.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me, no longer amused, and said, \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u203b<\/p>\n

20260401<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This is Chapter 11 from Magdalene linked from the second round of the Group Creativity Experiment, featuring \u201cFairground\u201d by Simply Red. \u201cFairground\u201d by Simply Red WHEN DID YOU FALL I OPENED MY DOOR at two minutes to eight to see him standing there relaxed, his hands in his jeans pockets, a long wool overcoat swept […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":1595,"menu_order":4431,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-14027","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/14027"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14027"}],"version-history":[{"count":27,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/14027\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25789,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/14027\/revisions\/25789"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1595"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14027"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}