“And the beauty of a woman, with passing years only grows."

Song Inspiration: "As Time Goes By." Frank Sinatra.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wxMeu34o_jQ
 
The Resort: Conclusion.
 
He had loved her from the beginning, it had been a struggle, but he loved her still. She would have a hard time most days when it stormed, or something happened out of the ordinary...on those days he would take her riding, the horses had a way of calming her he never did...he was envious of that, but at the same time, he was thankful that something brought her comfort when it felt like her world was closing in on her.
Having their children had been a struggle for her as well, she would awake some mornings and not think that they were real, but that she was hallucinating...but those moments were always alleviated when he showed her photos of her holding them to her chest when they were newborns....she didn't however, ever forget him. No matter how paranoid she became, she always acknowledged that what they had was real.
He admired her, for her love and for her struggle...she may never overcome her fears or paranoia or her jumpiness, but she handled it everyday.
Now as he looked over his shoulder at her, he caught her looking at him, she was wearing the small smile he had loved from the first day he had spotted her on the beach, and she was still smiling at him. She had wrinkles around her lovely eyes now, and her hair was salted like his, but she was still more beautiful than any woman could possibly be...for she had chosen to be his wife, and a mother, and a constant friend...and over and over...every single day, she had chosen to except him and their children as her beautiful reality.
 
This set and small story is for the sweet and wonderful @heartfinds I have missed you my dear, much love to you! You are a warrior among women.
 
A note to all my polyfriends, the move went well and the holidays were good. I have scheduled a surgery for a little over a month out. Some of you know that I have been battling some health issues for quite sometime.
I have missed you all! Please fill me in on anything I may have missed while away! I dislike how the news feed only goes two weeks back :-( It will take sometime to catch up with all your creations, but I am up to the wonderful challenge :-)

Song Inspiration: "Sunday Kind Of Love." Etta James
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfNLspDL3ns
 
The Resort: Part Three.
 
Ever since he had walked her back to The Resort that day, they had been spending afternoons together. Walking through the countryside, eating dinner, listening to jazz in the evenings in the lounge. He had grown close with her, and she had even let him go so far as to kiss her...as they sat hand and hand in a dark booth of The Resort restaurant last night.
Today, she had invited him to her families country house. He had been flattered, he still had yet to meet her family.
She ran out to meet him, throwing her arms around his neck, genuine emotion in her beautiful eyes, her loose blonde locks falling in her face. He rarely saw this happy flamboyant side to her, and immediately fell in love with it.
That afternoon, they ate alfresco on the terrace. He noticed a lively ghost like horse roaming the pasture. Soon enough she raised from the table, leaving him alone with her father.
He watched her walk out toward the fence, and saw that the horse came over to it eagerly.
"That's her new horse." Her father remarked gruffly smoking his pipe.
"She said her old one had died...that was some time ago." He felt nervous around her dad and wiped the sweat from his palms on his trousers.
"We got this one right after...she still hasn't ridden him."
"Why not? She seems to love horses." He remarked.
"It was you, that called the house that day wasn't it? Looking for her." Her father almost accused.
His mouth went dry and he took a deep breath and nodded.
"There's something you don't know about her...ever since she was little...she's been different. It's made having relationships, with men especially hard." Her father began to get choked up and bit his lip.
He leaned forward, knowing he was about to hear important information.
Her father reached over and patted his knee, "She loves you...and I can see the mutual affection in your eyes...you need to know. My little girl, sometimes she sees things...she sees things that aren't there. She gets more worried, agitated, and paranoid...she will drift off and sometimes even talk to thin air."
Listening to her fathers words brought back every time he had noticed her becoming dreamy, or jumping at the slightest noise, "That's why she wasn't around wasn't it? When I called...You had her...you had her-"
"Committed yes. Her mother and I did it for her own good, they did therapy...but the therapy never helped like her horse did. The one who died, he was her true and constant link to the real world...we've been trying to get her back to it ever since."
Gazing out at her now, her elegant hand brushing over the velvet nose of the gentle beast, he felt his heartstrings pull and start to hurt...she was beyond beautiful, beyond kind, and beyond everything he had dreamed of...except now, as he saw her laugh and wave to him as the horse nibbled her ear...he felt a feeling he hadn't before in her presence...fear.
"It called Schizophrenia." Her father continued, "I just don't want to see her get hurt."
He nodded understanding, but as he looked over her beautiful and graceful figure...and noticed the gentle way she touched the horses neck, he knew he could never hurt someone he loved so much.
 
I would just like to say thank you, for all the kind messages, sweet comments and wonderful love and support from all you wonderful and dear and sweet and unbelievably kind people that I am truly proud to say are my dear Poly-friends xx

Song Inspiration: "Return To Me." Dean Martin.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUmaNK7M-iM
 
The Resort: Part 2.
 
The last time he had seen her was that day on the beach three years before. They had talked...she was distant, and had a dreamlike quality to her eyes...as if part of her was somewhere else.
She had told him her name, but of course, he had already known it, as she did his as well. They had smiled...and he had felt himself laugh for the first time that he could remember...that was not of kindness, or being polite, or trying to fit in...but he had actually laughed.
He had asked her to have dinner with him the next night, she had smiled and agreed...but the next night came and went without her presence.
He had called everyone that he thought might know her...no one had known where she was...finally he had called her parents house. They had told him not to bother them again and ended the call abruptly.
For awhile, he thought she might've been dead...but now, she was here again. Maybe like him, for the tradition of the holiday weekend. Every time he had visited The Resort since meeting her...he had searched for her anxiously.
He was standing on the road next to a flower stained meadow...and the back of her figure, beautifully outlined by a red satin gown...was visible on the horizon. Even though her body was turned from his...he knew it was her. She had the same curves, the same graceful movements when she walked...and the same golden hair, that blew around her head as a gentle fall breeze picked up.
He didn't want to approach, in fear that he would scare her...so he waited. She stood there for almost an hour. When she turned and started to walk back it was a while before she spotted him, and when she did, her mouth parted slightly and her eyes widened.
He smiled at her fondly and she reluctantly walked closer and closer...until they were in earshot.
"I didn't want to disturb you...you seemed at peace." He offered removing his hat and holding it in his hands nervously.
She seemed confused than smiled, it was almost sarcastic as she shook her head, "I haven't known peace in a long time."
The way she said it, and the pain that misted her eyes when she did, told him not to press her on the topic...but it pained him that she could say something like that and be so genuine.
"Can I accompany you back to the resort?" He asked shyly, she was just as beautiful, her lips red and blue eyes vulnerable. Did she think him an old man? He guessed she was quite a few years younger.
She walked past him and onto the road back to The Resort without answering...then about ten feet from him she turned and smiled. It was the same smile from the beach...and he was frozen staring.
"Are you coming?" She teased.

Song Inspiration: "Listen to the Horses." Raffi.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2hB_2vSRxk
 
The Resort: Part 1.
 
She removed her hat and nestled down into the wooden beach chair. Her elegant long gown had sand on the bottom...she didn't seem to mind.
He watched her sit there, a glass of wine in hand...staring out into the surf of the evening ocean.
He had seen her at this resort before...vacationing with family perhaps. She had been in the restaurant the night before. He had watched her dance with many eligible young men...her mind seemed to always be away from their company though. She had stolen away before he had a chance to muster up enough courage to ask her dance.
Now as she sat there, a loose tendril of golden hair falling across her face...his breath went out of his lungs. Being sent to the all the right schools his entire life was supposed to prepare him for everything, but nothing prepared him for the look in her eyes when she turned and met his gaze.
He walked over to her slowly as the sun sank below the waves. His hands sweating slightly, the champagne glass he held was shaking a bit. She smiled at him, but then she turned away...and he froze.
Dozens of wild horses, as white as snow, ran across the beach. Kicking up sand ferociously and whinnying as they jumped and trampled the sand.
He admired her profile as she took in the sight...she was holding her breath, and tears seemed to be in her eyes. He wondered what sadness was hidden behind her lovely face.
She turned to him, "I'm sorry...every time I see the wild horses...I think of mine."
He didn't know if it was the way she said it, or the tears in her eyes, but he knew that her beloved horse must not be with her anymore. He nodded in understanding. Touched by her show of emotion.
Taking a deep breath he asked, "May I sit with you for awhile?"
She smiled, without turning her face to him and nodded. He sat down in the sand next to her chair...and together they watched the horses...not knowing if the thumping was the hooves or the beating of their hearts.

Inspiration: Fall Trend Baroque Contest.
 
"If it's not Baroque, don't fix it." -Cogsworth, Beauty & the Beast.
 
I do not normally do Contests, but this one really stood out to me! I adore this trend and had so much fun making this set!
 
Sometimes in the night, after the servants had all gone to sleep, and the lanterns and candles were all pt out...she would hear it. The faint and melancholic sounds of the grand piano being played. It was the tune only her late husband had played...and he had played it only when everyone was asleep. Now as she arose from her bed and slipped on her robe over her nightgown, and slippers over her toes, she heard the music grow louder. Her grey braided hair flew behind her as she descended the stairs, rushing to make it to the library, where his beloved piano sat. When she burst through the french doors, the piano bench sat empty, and the music had ceased. But she noticed two candles were lit...and as they burned they warmed her heart...and she felt like she could see him there once more, sitting in his tuxedo after a long night, brandy in hand, mustache perfect, and when he caught her watching him play, a smile would cross his face...just like the one that crossed hers now.

Song Inspiration: "A Sentimental Journey." Doris Day.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PUw125JMVFI
 
As her fingers brushed the petals of the dew stained flowers, her memories started to crash back through her mind like waves on the sandy shore. She had fallen and scraped her knee for the first time under that tree. She had swam naked for the first time in that river...and sitting on the bank she had been kissed by a boy for the first time in her life.
There were many memories from this garden, many more as an adult...she would share some with family and her husband and children...and even her grandchildren, about how her and her brother used to try and catch fish with their bare hands under the bridge, or about the deer she saw that day that had laid down not far from her and stayed while she read all afternoon.
Some memories, some she kept to herself, and guarded within her heart. For every women has things that are only for themselves...and moments of love, sorrow and loss, were all tied to this place...but she kept some to herself, to herself and The Garden.
 
-Ladies, to my dear Polyfriends-
I am sorry for my absence. I have missed you all so much!!! and all your lovely and heartwarming comments and gorgeous creations!!!. I will be off and on here over the next month. Things have been very hectic and we are in the process of moving as well, just a lot going on. XOXO and I hope to be able to enjoy this site on a more regular basis soon!

Song Inspiration: "Strangers In The Night." Frank Sinatra. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlSbSKNk9f0
 
The Socialite Rebecca Harris: Part Four. Conclusion.
Jones was out of breath when she got back to her office and fell against the door, throwing it open loudly. She shuffled through papers on her desk relating to the case. It was a few moments before she realized James Tilly had followed her into the room. "How did you get in here? Your face is plastered all over the walls!" Jones asked. James half smiled, "I just followed you in, kinda kept my hat low...no one notices a guy dressed like me...besides I'm tired of running." Jones saw the pain in his eyes and knew his innocence now more than ever. She kept searching until she found the piece of paper she was searching for, it was the report to Miss Harris's murder. She held the note James Tilly had showed her up to it...as she looked back and forth between the two pieces of paper her eyes grew wider and wider. "The handwriting...it's the same person." she whispered. Mr. Tilly ran to her side, "It doesn't look the same." Jones pointed to the papers, "Here, not everything, because he was careful...but here, the S's they are exactly alike...I know because I've worked with him for four years." James mouth fell open, "So your partner?" Jones grew silent then finally spoke, "My partner...detective Hellmer." Tilly sat down and lit a cigarette, burning through half of it before either of them spoke. "It all makes sense now..." Jones began, " He always picked the clubs we would frequent and we always saw you two...he must have been shadowing you...planning this for awhile.” The phone rang, when Jones answered the sergeant told her that the plaza key they found by Rebecca's body had been to a room that a ring was stolen from the night before her murder...a ring worth a fortune. A blue diamond. Jones mind continued to race after she hung up the phone. After talking for a few minutes, James began to see things fall into place. "But why kill her? and how did he get that room key? And where is Becky's body?" Jones looked into his eyes...then a smile, an ironic smile...spread across her face. "He didn't get the room key...she did, I saw her with Mr. Lewis...the man who was robbed in the plaza." James nodded understanding that Becky must've seduced him, he knew she was fond of keeping wealthy men company. Jones took off her hat and poured a drink and stood looking out the window, everything was very clear now...there were so many things she had missed. "What about her body?" James asked once more. Jones smiled, "Her body?.. I'm sure it's out o the country by now..." she downed her glass of gin and smiled once more. Tilly leaned forward, "I don't understand...what do you mean out of the country?" She met James eyes, "I mean...Miss Rebecca Harris and Mr. Hellmer are probably arm and arm sitting on some boat, or plane of train...don't you see,? Hellmer pronounced her dead!...I checked her pulse, didn't find one, but there are sedatives to slow your heart...her eyes were open, so she must have been drugged or something...he was the one who thoroughly inspected the body...the stab wound everything...it was probably just a superficial wound...he had access to the morgue...being a detective, he probably went there after hours slipped Gus some green, gave her a shot of adrenaline and they took off...her into hiding...him into his daily routine. The cocky snake laughed in my face the next day." James mouth was open in shock. He was having a hard time processing everything she had said. "How are you so sure she's alive?" Jones faced him, "I‘m not sure…not yet…it‘s just a hunch, like an itch I can‘t scratch...there was never something quite right about this case…I know Hellmer was in deep gambling debt…and people were growing more and more suspicious of her…they needed to disappear." She returned to the window. She couldn't help but smile all the while thinking…if her suspicions were right, if they were lovers and thieves…she would find them.
 
Much earlier that morning at Grand Central station:
The six inch heels of a beautiful young dark lithe beauty hit the marble floor, and made every man turn and find the owner of the shoes that demanded the attention of all loudly. her lips curled up into a smile, on her hand was a jewel as blue as the sea...her lips were painted red, her body decorated by furs. A smile spread across her lips seductively as she saw a tall dark man sitting in the train station cafe, his mustache perfect, his dark hair fixed in place. he returned her smile and stood up before her. As the two met face to face, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately. Then, like neither had a care in the world, the two bordered the train and were gone.

Song Inspiration: "I Fall In Love Too Easily." Frank Sinatra. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2swFK1ZIcI
 
The Socialite Rebecca Harris: Part Three.
The cold breeze had picked up and had turned into a wind. People ran across the street and held papers over their heads as the clouds opened up and started to cry on the city of New York. Jones sat at a small sidewalk cafe, shielded only halfway with an umbrella. It was her day off, she didn't mind the wind and rain soaking her lunch, but damn it! it keep putting out her cigarettes! As she brushed her ruby red hair from her face she attempted to light another...to no avail, the wind caught the flame. Suddenly a lighter cupped by two large hands presented itself in front of her, not thinking twice she leaned in and lit her cig up...after all, men offered her lights all the time. When she looked up to thank the stranger...she found it was no stranger at all. It was Mr. James Tilly. He stood there, hair dripping, his body soaked from his leather jacket to his tennis shoes. He had a miserable look on his face, like he was almost in pain...his eyes pleading her not to give him away. Jones knew her eyes had widened, she was shocked, but she acted cool and motioned for him to sit. He did, and nervously glanced over his shoulder and across the street, seemingly looking for someone. He finally spoke, "I know what you think." Jones smirked, "You do do you?" James nodded, "Yes...I saw you find my cufflink...I was that noise you heard...I was at the scene, but she was dead when I got there." He glanced around once more, obviously paranoid. Jones knew that murderers normally didn't show up and confront the head detective on the case, but she was still cautious and held her gun in her pocket with her cigarette free hand, pointed at his chest. James looked at her, his eyes met hers and held them...he was very beautiful...even he was only a bartender...slowly a smile crept across his face and he leaned over the table, "You have a glock on me don't you?' he whispered. Jones swallowed, not normally figured out so soon, she was at a loss for words. "It's okay...I don't blame you...you always seemed very aware of your surroundings...whenever I saw you out with your boyfriend at those clubs." James said. Jones cocked her head, "You remember seeing me? He's my partner, not my boyfriend. I don't have those." she stated flatly. James let out a laugh, "I see...well you need to believe me when I tell you I had nothing to do with Becky's murder...I was supposed to meet her...see, she left me this note." He slid it across the table." Jones read it aloud, "My love, meet me at midnight next to the central park plaza. -Becky." She read it again and again, something wasn't right about it, then her eyes widened and she jumped up abruptly knocking over her chair, grabbed her purse and started running full force to her office.

Song Inspiration: "Black Magic Woman." Fleetwood Mac. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GWkqACt1Xi8&feature=related
 
The Socialite Rebecca Harris: Part Two.
Detective Jones poured over the morning messages as she gazed about her cigarette smoke filled office. It had been a hectic evening the night before, murders happened often in the city, but it always hit her different when it was someone that she actually could pick out of a crowd. Coffee, cigarettes, a bite of a muffin...it wasn't doing the trick, she was still anxious, something about this murder was strange to her. Setting down her smoke, she sashayed over to her liquor supply, hell it was almost eleven a.m. on a Friday morning...she needed a drink, if nothing else, to celebrate making through another bloody week in New York. Adding Ice to her cocktail, she took a long gulp...the gin and tonic slipped right down. What had happened leading up to stabbing of the beautiful Rebecca Harris? She had thought about the cufflink all night, that didn't seem right...not with the way she had seen him looking at her, like she was so delicate he was afraid to hold her too tightly...no, something else was going on. A knock came to the door, and Hellmer entered, looking dashing as ever, in slacks and suspenders. His jet hair slicked back, his neat thin mustache flawlessly trimmed. "Morning Spunky." he called out and sat a sandwich on her desk, then smiled mischievously when he saw the drink in her hand. "You ever going to take me up on grabbing one of those after work?" he implied. Jones smirked and took another long swig, she was wise enough to not let men like Hellmer charm her heels off, she had a way of attracting a certain kind of man...the wrong kind. Jones cleared her throat, "Still trying to put together this Socialite case." Ring, Ring!!! She answered the phone promptly, "Yes." It was the sergeant, apparently the body of Miss Rebecca Harris was missing...and had never made it to the morgue last night. Jones mouth fell open, "How the bloody hell did that happen? Never-mind just take care of it!" Sergeant O'Brian was used to being talked to like this from her, and frankly didn't care because it was so freaking hot when she ordered him around. Jones hung up the phone, "Her body is missing!" she downed the rest of the glass. Hellmer smiled seductively, "I heard...I wanted to be in here when you got the news." As he finished the sentence he ducked as one of her heels flew past his head...he may not be able to charm her out of them, but he damn sure could exasperate her out of them!

Song Inspiration: "Witchy Woman." The Eagles. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eVXqocPAz1k
 
The Socialite Rebecca Harris: Part one.
Detective Jones, or Miss Jones as people called her, was good at her job. She had seen enough crimes of passion to know, just by looking at the milky white young woman lying before her, that this had been one of them. Her long satin white evening gown tore, her red lipstick smudged, and a single wound...right in her heart. The cold New York air bit her nose as Jones made her way around the body. She had seen her beautiful face before...those green eyes...the same ones that now stared blankly into the foggy darkness of central park...had met hers a few weeks back at a popular club. She knew that she was a socialite on the New York scene, she had seen her with many man...all worth their weight in gold. As Jones lit a cigarette...she noticed a shiny object next to the body...a room key. A Plaza room key, now drenched in blood. She turned her gaze across the way and admired one of the most prestigious hotels in the world. Lit up at the dark hour, no doubt their were still dames and gents having drinks in the bar. Jones brushed her curly red hair from her dark eyes and stood up from her crouched position, her partner, Detective Hellmer...who was tall, and classically good looking came over to her. "Found the knife over there." He motioned. Jones blew smoke in his face playfully, knowing he hated it. "The necklace she's wearing," Jones started, "it was reported missing two weeks ago...the earrings five...the ring one. All from the wives of the wealthy men she's been linked too." She took a long drag. Hellmer placed his hands on his hips and looked over the lithe beauties frame on the ground, "So you think one of her former lovers did this...or one of her former lovers wives?" Jones studied the body once more, and noticed for the first time that there were tear streams of mascura slightly down her face, "No...I think a man that she loved did this to her...there's no bruises, no cuts, just one clean stab." Hellmer laughed, "So dramatic...any idea who it was?" Jones thought back to the many times she had seen this young lady with men...a few times she had seen her dancing at a local nightclub with a young man named James Tires...he was a local bartender, and former trouble maker who had went straight. His eyes had looked at hers in a way that had caught Jones attention...they had an intensity in them that was almost unsettling to witness. In fact, it seemed whenever she spotted them together, he had been looking at her that way. Except recently, recently she had been seen with a prestigious criminal lawyer...which made sense since Mr. Tire had no real money to speak of. "It could have easily been one of her former lovers...or a woman with a grudge, but I have a feeling something else is going on." Jones said. As she lit up her second smoke, she heard a snap in the nearby bushes, after gazing that way momentarily, she returned to the scene. A young man crouched behind a bush, gazing at the scene before him, looking at the body of the only woman he had ever loved. He was supposed to meet her there, and had found her dead...evidence laying all around her that pointed to him. A card with his number written on it, footprints that looked like they had been made from his shoes that went missing last week, a lighter that he had given her as a gift. He had grabbed everything quickly when he heard voices and had ran sobbing into the nearby bushes. His heart stopped as he saw Miss Jones hold up something...it was small, it was shiny...he knew what it was. Then he heard her faint voice, "It's a silver cufflink...it has the initials J.T. inscribed on the back." James Tire's heart raced and slowly and quietly he made his way as far from the the staged scene as possible.