Chapter 4
Sixty minutes later, the transport arrived at the General's mansion in the country. Through the darkness, Jeremy tried to look out onto the grounds. Trees and other fauna were nearly nonexistent in Lorian City. Jeremy tried not to gape as he stared out the window at the outline of trees lining the driveway. More so he was in awe of the massive lawn just on either side of the tree line. Lorian City was an overpopulated, overcrowded urban mega-center with buildings towering fifty or more floors. Most apartments were small, barely 850 square feet. The slums were worse with old dilapidated buildings; each family huddled in a room barely 300 square feet and this was if you were lucky to live in an apartment building. Growing up, Jeremy and his mother were not lucky. They had a small shack on the ground with a dirt floor, no running water, and intermittent electricity. His only meal, leftover scraps his mother brought home from the family she worked for. Jeremy knew about dirt, but he was amazed by the rolling green grass which framed the General's mansion. Even the smell of the air was different; cleaner, fragrant.
Jeremy tried his best not to gawk again as the mansion came into sight. Avon tried not to laugh at Jeremy. Both failed. "It's not that big," Avon giggled. "It's only three floors plus an attic; each bedroom with its own comfort room. I'll take you on a full tour tomorrow."
At first Jeremy was disgusted with ostentatious way Avon and her father lived. Then he remembered the mansion would be his home for the next three months and smiled. "I'd like that," he mumbled sincerely. He wanted to see it all; everything, every square inch.
"Normally our guests stay on the third floor, but since it's just going to be me and you, I think I'll put you on the second floor with me. I know the perfect room. It has an old-fashioned bathroom as well as a comfort station. I think my parents had hoped for a second child and it was designed for a boy. I think it will be perfect for you."
"Another old-fashioned bathroom?" Jeremy started, slightly fearful. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"You don't have to use it," Avon smirked. "I just thought you would be more comfortable in a larger suite. The guest rooms are smaller and I want you to feel at home."
Jeremy thought about Avon's sincere proclamation. She had shown time and time again she had been raised to be the perfect hostess. Her sincerity showed she was not putting on an act. She did enjoy ensuring guests were comfortable.
"Lead the way," Jeremy sighed as he grabbed his duffle. Watching Avon pull out three duffle bags, he reached for the largest one. "I'll help," he smiled.
"You didn't bring much," Avon declared looking at Jeremy's one duffle.
"I'm ICE. I don't need much. When not in full uniform, I wear my PT clothes in my room in the barracks," Jeremy explained. "The rooms don't allow for much."
"But you're a captain," Avon stated quizzically. "You earn enough credits for your own apartment."
Jeremy looked away to prevent Avon from seeing his forlorn expression. "I had an apartment once. It didn't work out." Jeremy didn't say anything else. He didn't owe Avon an explanation. Plus he didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to talk about how he had purchased the apartment for his mother or how she had died, murdered. He had sold the apartment immediately. He couldn't keep it or live there. Staying there would have broken his heart.
Avon didn't push the subject. She had read Jeremy's dossier. She knew he had moved back to the Academy when his mother was murdered. She was well aware of how he had attended the Academy even during summer breaks and had graduated early. Upon graduation, Jeremy had moved into the barracks at ICE HQ. ICE had become his life, his security net, and his cocoon. He had become accustomed to living in small cinderblock rooms. As an adult, it was all he knew.
Before Avon and Jeremy reached the front door, it opened. A thirty-something-year-old woman smiled at Avon and held out her arms as if she expected a hug. Avon smiled and dropped her duffle bags onto the ground. She ran to the woman. "Iramy," Avon called out hugging the woman. Then Avon motioned to Jeremy. "Captain Jeremy Hanson, meet Iramy Wayzata. She has been with me all my life. First as my nanny and now she takes care of the house and does most of the cooking. Her food is the best."
Jeremy looked at Iramy. She was younger than he had expected. He had expected a woman at least in her sixties, maybe of mixed race. What he saw was a youthful looking human female with long flowing red hair and light brown eyes. He could see even through her fleece robe she still had an hourglass figure. Her face was free of make-up and her freckles made her look even younger. Jeremy finally found his voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am," he stated formally.
Iramy looked at Avon and then laughed. "Another career soldier," she chuckled. "Get in here you two. I need to get some sleep if I'm going to be up early to cook breakfast for the two of you."
Jeremy felt a pang of guilt. "I know how to use a synthesizer," he replied, a bit offended.
"We all do," Iramy chuckled. "But wait until you taste real food."
"Captain Hanson will be staying with me on the second floor," Avon announced to Iramy.
Iramy's brows instantly rose. "With you?"
"Not in the same room; on the same floor, in the room next to me. I know Captain Hanson is a guest for the summer, but there is no need to alienate him. He's going to make my life miserable enough as it is. I don't need him hating me any more than he already does."
Jeremy took a quick breath; in and out. "I don't hate you."
"I hope I can say the same by the end of the week," Avon sneered. She knew he was going to put her through her paces, push her to go further than she wanted to. There would be fighting. They would be fighting.
Iramy grabbed one of Avon's bags and arm in arm they entered the house and started up the stairs. Jeremy followed. Iramy dropped Avon's bag inside her room and bid both Avon and Jeremy good-night. "Breakfast at seven?" Iramy asked as she walked away. Both Avon and Jeremy nodded.
Jeremy dropped the third and largest duffle of Avon's just inside her room. "If you'll show me to my room, I'd like to clean up and grab some sleep." Jeremy's voice indicated he was tired. It was gruff and impatient.
"Would you like to shower?" Avon asked with a glint of humor in her eyes.
"I'd like to get through the first night unscathed," Jeremy replied his head slightly forward and glaring at Avon as if he was peeking over a pair of glasses. The stare was daunting.
"Well, I'm going to soak in a hot tub of water," Avon replied with a shrug. "It's been a day from hell and I need to relax before I try to sleep. At least I remembered to bring my music box. It will help."
"And how would you soak in a tub of water?" Jeremy asked now curious.
"Follow me," Avon laughed and walked further into the room, towards her comfort room. Jeremy was hesitant to follow. He had never been inside the room of a female, civilian or military. It was against the code of conduct. "Come on," Avon insisted impatiently.
Jeremy dropped his duffle in the hallway and followed. Once inside the comfort room, he looked at the large soaking tub sitting in the far corner. "What the hell is that?"
"I call it paradise," Avon laughed. "Technically it is a soaking tub or a whirlpool bath."
Jeremy walked closer to get a better look. He took note of the candles lined up around the tub and on the tiled steps around it. He looked inside the tub. "How does it hold water with all those holes in the sides?"
"Those aren't holes, they're jets," Avon laughed. "You fill the tub with water and then turn on the jets. It moves the water all around and helps alleviate pain and stress. I have some stress I need to get rid of. Too bad there isn't one in your room."
"So it's a woman thing?" Jeremy asked hesitantly. He knew nothing about women and he knew even less about bathtubs.
"No silly," Avon laughed again at Jeremy's expense. She did love to yank his chain. "Daddy has one too. Actually it is a part of the master bath. I'm sure it was for
my mo...." Avon didn't finish. She wasn't sure what to say. She rarely talked about her mother. There was nothing to say. She was dead. End of story. Jeremy didn't like talking about his mother, neither did Avon. While both she and Jeremy had one thing in common, growing up in single parent homes, the circumstances were so much different.
"I guess it's time to show me to my quarters," Jeremy suggested as a way to change the subject and save Avon from any further discomfort. It wasn't as if he liked her, but she did have a few redeeming qualities. Even for a spoiled brat.
"Come on," Avon groaned and walked back towards the hall. Turning to the left, Jeremy followed her to the next room. "This one is yours. You should have everything you need. I'll see you in the morning."
"I'll be up at six if you want to join me for a few pushups," Jeremy smirked.
"I'll wait until after breakfast. If you're going to start my training tomorrow, I better eat first."
Jeremy nodded. He would have to set up a training schedule to include meals; but not tonight. He wanted sleep. He wanted to forget everything which had happened to him that day. "Time?" he asked the house computer. "Ten thirty-six," it replied.
"Alarm zero six hundred," he requested and headed for the sanitizer station. After cleaning himself and his dress uniform, he disrobed, hung his uniform in the closet and climbed into the bed. "Lights out," he whispered and the lights extinguished. Jeremy closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep.