They are introduced to the other guests, and learn about the curse jar.
They all laughed. Freddie ran a palm over his shaved head in a nervous gesture.
"What I meant to say was, I'm the shlemiel of the bunch. If something can go horribly wrong, it's either my fault, or I'm in the middle of it. Perpetual scapegoat... I'm trying to work my way up the karma scale, until I get to sacrificial lamb."
Emma and Sam didn't know whether to laugh or not. They looked at him with open curiosity.
"I'm kidding! Seriously, though. I'm not ...."
A tall, imposing, well built, dark skinned man pushed carefully past Freddie, holding out his hand to Sam. "I'm Glenn. Body builder, athlete, drug addict. I think we were in school together."
"Yeah, you look familiar. Couple years ahead?" Sam replied.
"Oh, my God. I know you!" Emma blushed. "Oh, shit. I hate to say how well I know you."
Glenn looked embarrassed. He took a step back as Sam straightened up, squaring shoulders nearly as broad as the other man's. He was a couple inches shorter, but his natural aggressiveness, where Emma was concerned, made him intimidating as hell.
"I don't have a problem with you, Sammy," Glenn replied, taking another step back, hands up defensively.
"He didn't do anything wrong," Emma interjected in Glenn's defense. "It's not like he hurt me or anything, Sam. We were both pretty messed up at one of those weekend benders, and we got together. Completely voluntary."
"Yeah, I bet it was magic," Sam said with gritted teeth.
"Honest to God, dude, I don't remember," Glenn admitted with a slight frown. "Sorry, Emma."
"Until you spoke, I didn't recognize you either. Your voice is—distinctive."
She was right. His voice was deep, rich, melodic. His dark skin had an almost coppery tint to it. She kind of wished she could remember, because it probably had been pretty good. The only times she could clearly remember were those with Sam. Or the times her father forced her—those were branded on her memory.
"It's okay, Sam," she murmured, pulling on his arm. "You can't beat up every man I've ever had sex with. You'd be fighting constantly."
Sam didn't add that was mostly because she didn't know who most of them were and neither did he. She'd been lucky so far, dodging the STD bullet—especially HIV. He relaxed, taking a step back.
"Sorry, man. Habit." He held out his hand for Glenn to shake.
Taking Sam's hand, he gave it a friendly shake. "Dude, if I had a lady like Emma, I'd protect her too. There are a lot of sickos out there."
"I'm Carlos," a medium built Hispanic man stepped forward with his hand extended. "I assure you, I've never been with your lady. I don't even like women. Now you, on the other hand...!" He pointed playfully at Sam. "I'm kidding. Never saw either one of you before."
Laughing, Sam shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Carlos."
"What's on the menu?" Raleigh asked, rubbing his hands together.
"Food," Molly replied, kissing him. "Now whist, you. Take these two and show them around, tell them about the list, and for heaven's sake, find Emma some clothing. She can't wear that to bed."
"We can totally find her something to wear," Vera looked at the other girls, nodding.
The girls continued talking as they worked. Raleigh led Sam and Emma upstairs to the third floor. Their rooms were across the hall from one another.
Their rooms were Spartan, but spacious. Each had a twin bed, dresser, desk, television and book shelf stocked with books of all kinds. There were folded linens on the end of each bed. Sam's duffel bag of personal belongings was in the middle of his bed.
"No weapons of any kind. No drugs, obviously, not even aspirin. If you have a headache, you tell us, we ask the doctor, he says whether or not it's okay. Emma, are you on birth control pills?"
"Yes."
"When you see the doctor tomorrow, tell him what kind and give him the name of your regular doctor."
©2020 Dellani Oakes
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