Jezebel (11 page)

“Oh why not!” Jezebel answered. “So Madison, what’s your deal?”

Annabelle snickered at Jezebel’s question as she pulled a small chair from the opposite corner of the room for Madison to sit in.

“I don’t know. I just wanted to spend some time with Belle. I miss her.”

“Interesting, so you chose to come here with her?”

“She’s grounded. No friends over and no leaving her house, this was the only way,” Madison answered matter-of-factly.

Annabelle sat and toed off her shoes before tucking her legs underneath her. She motioned for Madison to get comfortable.

“So, my dear, how was your week? Still pining over the boyfriend?” Jezebel asked.

Madison snorted. “No. Actually I didn’t really think about him at all,” Annabelle answered.

“Well at least you didn’t waste brain cells.”

Annabelle noticed Madison absentmindedly navigating her phone. It struck her as rude, but she knew that if hers hadn’t been confiscated by her parents, she’d be doing exactly the same thing. Still, it bothered her. “I made dinner for my mom.” she blurted.

Jezebel raised an eyebrow at her and grinned. Madison’s thumb stopped moving on the screen. “I made pasta carbonara. And you know what? It was really freakin’ good. Actually, my mom even admitted to being a terrible cook that night—which was hilarious. And we read. Well, she read to me after we ate and fell asleep together on the couch.” Her words were rushed and enthusiastic. She felt pride about her small accomplishment and wanted to share it.

“Are you for real?” Madison asked without bothering to look up from her phone.

“Girl, put that away,” Jezebel snapped at Madison. “You don’t need it, those damn phones are automating our humanity. Talking in person, touching in person, seeing a smile in person, those are the things in life that will carry you through your hardships. And trust me, you
will
have hardships. Do you really think five years from now you will remember a sweet text your boyfriend sent? No, don’t be silly, if you remember anything about him
at all
it will be something that was tangible, the feeling of his lips on yours, the softness of his hair or perhaps the way he held your hand.”

Madison stared slack-jawed at Jezebel, thumb hovering above the phone screen. Annabelle snickered. She couldn’t help it. Madison looked to her and she shrugged because quite frankly, she agreed with Jezebel. She watched as Madison powered off the screen and tucked the phone in her purse.

“Uh, sorry,” Madison stammered.

Jezebel cocked her head to the left and scrutinized Madison for a moment. “Now, Annabelle, I think it’s wonderful news that you had a good week.”

“No. Just a good twenty-four hours. My dad called the next day and somehow killed mom’s mood. The rest of the week was back to miserable silence,” she answered, deflated.

“You cooked? And hung out with your
mom?
” Madison asked shocked.

Annabelle nodded.

“Child, do you really think that eight
years
of behavior would be changed overnight?” Jezebel asked.

“No. I mean, I was hopeful though.” She frowned. She
had
thought that maybe everything was truly going to be better. How foolish.

“Hope is a nasty little bitch isn’t she?” Jezebel laughed.

“That’s a depressing sentiment,” Madison balked.

“Not at all kiddo, it’s just a realistic one,” Jezebel retorted.

Annabelle found herself agreeing with both of them. What kind of a life could a person have without hope? But, hope alone couldn’t make a person happy. There had to be a middle ground, one where expectations, hope and reality coexisted. The large diamond on Jezebel’s wedding ring sparkled in the light, catching Annabelle’s eye.

“How was your week? Did your husband visit?” she asked hoping to change the subject.

“You’re married?” Madison asked.

“Why is that shocking?” Jezebel retorted, not missing a beat.

“I don’t know, I guess I just assume that people in these places aren’t.”

“These places?” Jezebel prompted. Her tone dripping with disdain.

“Yeah, nursing homes, or assisted living places. Like—if you had a husband at home, you wouldn’t be here because he’d take care of you. These are the places you go when there’s no one left to take care of you.” Madison answered, brow furrowed.

“Do a husband and wife love each other?”

“Of course.” Madison replied.

“And, if you had a husband, and you were still relatively
young,
would you want him to be saddled with taking care of you alone, worrying about you all the time, while he still works all day? Would you feel terrible knowing that
he
feels terrible about having to go to work while you struggle at home alone?”

“Well sure. I mean, that sounds like a lot of pressure,” Madison conceded.

“It is. And it also wasn’t fair to either of us, or feasible, as my episodes worsened. So here I am, fifty years young and in one of
these places.
”

“Yeah,” Madison replied sheepishly.

“To answer your question Annabelle, yes he visited. We had a splendid dinner together and spent the rest of our time snuggling in my bed and reading.”

Annabelle noticed that Madison’s expression mirrored her own. Their noses both wrinkled up in revolt at the thought of anyone their parent’s ages snuggling in bed together. It made her laugh. Madison giggled beside her.

“We’re middle-aged dears, not dead,” Jezebel chuckled. “Shall we start?”

Madison and Annabelle nodded in unison.

“Hm, okay, Paris . . .”

“Nineteen eighty-five,” Annabelle finished for her. Jezebel smiled and began.

Chapter 10

Celeste

Paris 1985

Gabriel whistled a song while he unpacked. The tune carried throughout the house. Celeste stopped what she was doing and listened, a smile creeping over her face. This would be her every day. This would be her norm now and it made her heart lift and stomach flutter. She put her stocking-clad feet up on the coffee table while she listened to his whistle, sipped her coffee and tried to find motivation to tackle unpacking. She had convinced Gabriel to wait until they had told everyone of their engagement before moving into the house he’d purchased for them. It bought her time to pack and figure out how she would get through her last year of college with him around to distract her.

Matteo, the genius that he was, had suggested he and Mara and her meet three nights a week at the library, strictly to do homework and study. It was a solid plan. It put her out of the house and with people who she knew she could get the work done with. Gabriel supported her one hundred percent in her studies, but whenever he was physically near she found herself watching him, daydreaming about what they
could
be doing instead of homework. She needed to focus.

The hours passed by slowly, the time filled with unpacking boxes and organizing. By late afternoon, Celeste felt completely burnt out in the moving department. She rummaged through Gabriel’s bedside drawers trying to find extra space for the small items in the open box at her feet. A deck of cards, a few concert tickets and the watch she gave him last Christmas sat in it. She picked up the tickets and grinned. He had kept all the tickets from the shows they had seen together. She liked that he was sentimental that way.

Hours later when their eyes were so heavy they couldn’t keep them open any longer, they lay down in bed together.
Their
bed. She entwined herself in his limbs and fought visions of endless boxes stacked all around her, until she finally fell into a dark and fitful sleep.

The sun streamed through the curtain-less windows. It was too early to be up yet. Gabriel lightly snored next to her. Snuggling back under the blankets Celeste savored the last few moments of peace before facing the day ahead. There was still a lot of work to be done. They had unpacked most of the boxes, but the house was still in need of some serious cleaning and arranging. She’d need to enlist Mara’s help today if she was going to accomplish it all.

Celeste ticked off a mental list as she slid out of bed hours later. She softly padded down the hall, descended the stairs and promptly started a pot of coffee. As she waited for the glorious liquid gold to brew she picked up the phone and dialed Mara’s number.

Chapter 11

Annabelle

“And I didn’t see the future coming. Because I’ve been too blind”

~ L’ame Immortelle, Betrayal

“Does this story have a point? I mean she’s met the handsome guy and they’ve fallen in love. What
could possibly
happen now?” Madison interrupted.

“You can’t rush perfection. I promise you this story will make your head spin. It’s worth hearing.”

Madison slumped back into her chair and huffed.

“Please, continue,” Annabelle spoke up as irritation at her friend festered.

“You could always go make yourself useful somewhere else,” Jezebel snapped at Madison.

Jezebel was the only reason Annabelle wasn’t yanking her hair
out of her
head or dying from boredom. She’d grown fond of the woman and her story and she was pissed at Madison’s crappy attitude.

“I’m sorry Jez,” Annabelle offered.

“Oh hush. It’s fine, I remember being eighteen once. Old people sucked.”

Annabelle laughed loudly at the woman’s remark.

“I promise, you don’t suck Jez. I’d tell you.” She glared at Madison.

“Well thank God for small miracles. Now, are we done for today or are you ready for more?”

“More please,” she answered. Jezebel looked to Madison and waited.

“Yeah. Sorry. Keep going,” Madison answered with an expression of embarrassment plastered on her face.

Jezebel quieted for a moment. She looked
lost in thought
. Annabelle wondered if she’d lost her
train of thought
, or perhaps had forgotten where she was in the story. Normally she didn’t
care for busybodies but Jezebel had a way of spinning tales and rumors like they were harmless bits of nonsense.
She was about to remind her but she’d learned Jezebel had her own pace when telling the story and Annabelle didn’t want to disrupt it.

Chapter 12

Celeste

Paris 1986

Celeste stared at the bottom of her white satin shoe—at the handwritten note from Gabriel on the sole.

Chaque pas que vous faites aujourd’hui vous rapproche de mon cœur.

Every step you take today brings you closer to my heart.

She could practically hear him speaking the words he wrote. A delightful mix of melody and syllables that could charm a snake. When Celeste thought about her future it was lavender and wrapped in satin. Gabriel was the epitome of her wildest fantasies. Handsome, glamorous, smart and down to earth. Everything he did seemed so effortless. The way he held her, kissed her, cared for her was nothing short of a romance novel. While her friends were enduring heart-wrenching breakups, lost in questions like, “How could I have loved that boy?” and, “What did I see in him?,” she was up in the clouds floating in brilliant hues of oranges, reds and blues.

“My God, does the man have
any
flaws?” Mara asked staring at the handwritten words on the bottom of the shoe.

Celeste shrugged. “Not really,” she answered and smiled.

“Charles would never think to do something that sweet. I swear Celeste, how you managed to snag a man like Gabriel, I will never know.” It wasn’t an affront. She knew exactly what her friend meant and agreed with her. She was still in shock that Charles had lasted a year with Mara. He’d tamed her a bit, wormed his way into her best friend’s heart and managed to keep Mara wanting him. And she liked Charles; he was a good man.

“I know.” The words left her mouth in a breathy puff of air.

Today was
the
day. Last night Mara and a few other girls from school had gone out on the town celebrating her bachelorette party.
They had ended their girls evening at BC Black Calvados, the
branché
black and chrome nightclub. It had been so much fun, almost too much. She had been adamant about being back to the hotel by ten to get a good night’s rest but they had ended up out until one a.m.

Mara and her mother helped Celeste into her dress. The pearl buttons skillfully done up the length of her back. The photographer took pictures as they each slid on her shoes for her and fixed her hair and makeup just right.

Now, ready to walk down the aisle, the romantic lace
Catherine Walker
dress combined with the stunning Paris cathedral backdrop made Celeste feel like the quintessential bride, delicate and elegant like a ballerina atop an antique music box. She
rolled her neck, the tiny hairs on her back prickling as she waited for Mara to descend the aisle.
The cathedral doors, open behind her, let the summer wind whip her hair, whip her dress around her legs, but she didn’t care. Her father, at her elbow, gave a gentle squeeze. Matteo, at her other elbow, beamed at her. She couldn’t imagine a more fitting scenario. But now, all she could focus on was the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle.
With one glance, even in the crowded room, he made her feel vulnerable and exposed, as if he could see a side of her that no one else bothered to notice.

He watched reverently as she neared him. She felt her father and Matteo release her. A bittersweet wave engulfed her as she took Gabriel’s hands. Her father kissed her cheek and Matteo
followed suit
. In the moment when Gabriel closed his hands around hers she felt her heart nearly explode with joy.
He clutched her hands tightly as the minister said his piece. They promised they would love each other for all their years. His happy tears fell, his smile full of promise of their future. She couldn’t wait to pull him close, wanting to be lost in the smell and sight and feel of him. The press of his lips to hers calmed the chaos of the day away.

They had taken a year to plan the wedding. She and Gabriel had gone with the soft, romantic colors of white, peach, and pink, with dusty miller accents. To add to the ambiance they also chose amber up-lighting around the perimeter and tall candelabras for the center tables to fill the space and draw the guests’ eyes up towards the gorgeous ceiling. The food—from the chicken confit appetizer to the espresso
crème brûlée
cups, and the home-made foie gras to the truffle “lollipops” served with a refreshing black cocktail—made their way around the open space where their guests mingled. Music was cafe-inspired, including many Django Reinhardt jazz pieces. And finally, to add to the formal, romantic mood, they chose black tuxedos for the men, and she chose lacy dresses and pearl accessories for the women. Looking around, she couldn’t have been happier with how the event turned out and now they could finally enjoy all of the romance they had worked so hard to create.

The entire celebration left Celeste feeling warm and grateful. The reception had been a whirlwind of smiles, hugs and warm wishes. Gabriel looked nothing short of dashing in his tux. She relished the dances they shared, the private moments spent in each other’s arms moving to the cadence of the quartet. It was magical and breathtaking.

The music was cranked up full-blast and a swirl of summer air gently worked its way through the crowd.
The scent of his aftershave filled her nostrils as he held her close. It was familiar and calming.

“So, how does it feel to be my husband?” she joked as he swept her around the dance floor.

“I’m a scientist. Not enough empirical data yet.” He feigned seriousness.

“Well, we’ll have to change that.”
She tilted back her head and met his lips, kissing him. “Take me home and make love to me, Gabriel,” she whispered.

He grinned and danced her right off the floor toward the exit causing her to laugh at his little show. “I’m sorry, all!” he yelled out to their guests, “But husbandly duties call!”

He carried her through the very same door to their house he had before, and to their room where he laid her down and began to give her his love, and she gave hers to him.
His hand lowered to the hem of her dress and began to lift. She tilted her hips to arch her back allowing the dress to be pushed up higher. His fingers slid over her thighs, so near, yet not touching where her body wanted. His movements were beautifully slow, deliberate.

He moved steadily deeper into her and paused just to watch her. His lips brushed her neck. His touch warm and electric. Nuzzling her exposed neck and shoulder, her hips tilted forward, stalling the thoughts in her head. His hand slid down her stomach. The path he’d traveled tingled from the warmth of his touch, igniting her skin. She reached for his shoulders as one then two fingers slid inside her and let out a gasp. Heat burned through her as his fingers worked magic, building, building, building, until she exploded in ecstasy. Gabriel withdrew his fingers and moved over her, hovering chest to chest before slipping inside.

Pounding into her, he found his release as he let out a roar that echoed through their room. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open as he made the final push. She was so
full of him
. He watched as lust mired her features. When the final ripple of crazed pleasure subsided, Gabriel kissed her forehead and rubbed his cheek against hers. Uninhibited and delicate.
The two of them tangled up and sweaty.
“You’re incredible, mon amour.” He continued to brush her arms in a ghostly caress until she fell asleep sated and still in her wedding dress.

~
***
~

Their honeymoon began the morning after the wedding. Their bags were packed days in advance which made their morning stress-free and easy. Gabriel sat at the breakfast table, a mug of coffee and
The New York Times
crossword puzzle in hand. As he thought, he whistled. It was endearing. After warming and buttering a scone she sat next to him and sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m perfectly happy.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled.

“You’d better be,” he chuckled.

“Anyone who could find reason to be unhappy after yesterday’s fairytale-come-true and an impending trip to Capri would be insane.”

“Oh, so happy has nothing to do with me?” He laughed. She crumpled her napkin and threw it at him as they both laughed.

~
***
~

Capri. Her breath might as well have just disappeared altogether. She had never been to Capri and it was stunning. Exiting the ferry from Naples Celeste was speechless. Her mouth hung agape as she took in her surroundings. She licked the briny air from her lips while the breeze rustled the hair away from her face. She thought she knew what beauty was, she had an idea in her mind, but what she saw when they arrived in Capri was a beauty she didn’t know existed. Her heart, wide open, oozed uncontrollable joy.

After exploring a bit of one side of the island, they got on the tram and started the climb up to the hotel Punta Tragara. Littered along the way were extravagant shops, beautiful flower lined pathways and inviting rich patios. It was almost too beautiful to bear. The sound of Gabriel’s camera shutter snapped her from her thoughts.

Celeste fiddled with the chain of her locket. “This place is like a dream.”

“I knew you’d like it.” He let the camera rest against his chest and kissed the crown of her head. Her first love, her husband. She was too high, floating in the clouds to ever step foot on land again. She pushed up and pressed her lips to his. Gabriel groaned in response.

“
Mon amour,
your lips were made for mine.”

When they finally arrived at their hotel near the top of the island she was floored by the extraordinary charm of the hotel. The room and the service were perfection, and the view of legendary Faraglioni cliffs was incredible. After dropping their bags and fooling around for a while like giddy teenagers they checked out the heated pool. On the coast the summer breeze made the heated pool the perfect temperature for a night swim.

She found that looking up at the stars into space makes one reconnect with what is important. Gabriel’s strong arms wrapped around her, his wet hair flopping into his face, and the champagne may have helped that revelation come about. They floated together, her back to his chest, his hands wandering. Celeste smiled up at the stars as she covered his hand with hers and guided it down her stomach and beneath the elastic waist of her bikini.

~
***
~

The sun beat down through the thin material of her sleeves.
Moving through the water, over swells and farther into the ocean, they
rowed out in a tiny boat after their lunch to see the grotto. It didn’t seem all that amazing until they reached the water
inside
the grotto. When it was finally their turn, they were instructed to lay down on their backs in the boat, and the guide pulled the boat through an impossibly small cavern entrance. When Celeste’s eyes adjusted and she resumed her upright position, she gasped. She was dazzled by the luminescent waters beneath them. It glowed a stunning electric blue.

“It’s breathtaking,” Gabriel said grinning. He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled Celeste closer.

“Breathtaking doesn’t even seem to do it justice,” she answered, wishing she knew a word—any word—that could encompass the stunning natural phenomenon they were seeing.

“I’m happy you’re enjoying this.” Gabriel bared his dimple at her. Forgetting the guide was with them, she reached out to touch it. He cupped her chin and pulled her face to his before pushing his warm lips against her own.

At dinner they tried to steer lighter in the food department with mixed bruschetta, prosciutto, and buffalo mozzarella sliced cheese, all so flavorful under the sun. A salty warm breeze captured their memorable honeymoon like a dream in every way possible.

That evening, when they finally decided to call it a night and return to their room, he took her hands and pulled her around to face him. Then he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her up onto the window ledge where he fed her grapes and wine.
His eyes lingered
everywhere as if memorizing each curve and angle of her. It was sweet.

“Those taste so much better than the grapes at home,” she groaned in appreciation.

“Well it’s because they’re magical,” Gabriel whispered. Celeste laughed and swatted at his chest.

Capturing her hands he brought the wine glass up to her lips. “Drink up.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk? Take advantage of me?” She took in the moment with him like a refreshing drink, savoring each and every moment they were collecting together.

“It seemed like a solid plan,” he retorted and grinned. He lifted the cup a little more. Celeste parted her lips and he groaned as she took her sip and savored it.

“You don’t need a plan,” she whispered leaning into him. “I’m Mrs. Fontaine now. You can have me, whenever, wherever, and
how
ever you like.” She giggled and hopped down from the window ledge to head out to the balcony. The night stars glittered overhead and the sea breeze whipped her hair around.

Oh really? Then I say we skinny-dip, Mrs. Fontaine. You up for it?” he asked. his eyes sparkling with mischief. The corner of her mouth turned up at his suggestion. She nodded and willed her heart to slow down. “I never say no to an adventure.”