Jezebel (14 page)

Chapter 15

Annabelle

“I think of your betrayal. Which still echoes with your voice.”

~ L’ame Immortelle—Betrayal

Annabelle reviewed her work. Red suited Jezebel. It made her long delicate looking fingers look even more refined. She blew on them lightly as Jezebel inspected her free hand.

“You did quite well. They look perfect. Thank you.”

“Jez,” she started looking up, “why didn’t Celeste and Matteo ever hook up?”

Jezebel drew in a long, slow breath. “They were best friends. It’s complicated to explain I suppose. In a way, it worked out for the best. They really did value their friendship too much to risk ruining it by making it romantic. Are you not a fan of Gabriel?”

“No, no,” Annabelle shook her head. “It’s not that. He sounds perfect. Almost too perfect. I mean, no one can really be that wonderful right?”

“Oh, of course there were things that irked them about one another but darling, when you’re in love you tend to let those things go. For the greater good and what not. Not everyone is so lucky to experience a love like Celeste and Gabriel’s.”

Annabelle studied Jezebel’s mouth as she spoke. Everything about her was graceful, from the way she carried herself to the way her mouth moved while she told a story. Annabelle found herself wishing that she could be more like Jezebel.

Annabelle pulled out an electric blue nail polish from her kit as she pondered what Jezebel told her. “We have a little more time, would you do mine?” She held the bottle of polish out to Jezebel.

“I’m not sure how good I’ll be but let’s try. You can always wash it off if I butcher it.”

Annabelle laughed as Jezebel took the polish from her. “Deal.”

Jezebel
grabbed her hand and squeezed. Annabelle could feel Jezebel’s contentment and joy flowing through her. She let go and the feeling lingered with her for a time.

On the bus ride home Annabelle wondered if her parents had ever been like Celeste and Gabriel. If they had, something inside them had been extinguished. Her chest tightened at the thought. Her parents still had decades left to live, to be happy, to enjoy each other. There had to be a way for them to get what they had back. What was the point otherwise?

Walking from the bus stop to her house she wondered if she suggested something as simple as painting her nails with her mother it would go
over with
the same ease as it had with Jezebel. She resolved to make the effort.
For some reason, her parents felt the need to hide how broken they were, as if they were ashamed by their lack of progress in the grieving department.

When inside the house, she tossed her keys and purse onto the kitchen counter. She went to the fridge and stuffed two bottled waters into her arms and sought out her mom. She poked her head into the den. Her father sat on the couch alone.

“Hi Dad,” she called out softly.

“Hi Belle.”

Instead of leaving it at that, like she normally would, Annabelle took a chance. She walked into the den and planted her rear on the couch right next to her dad. She looked up at him wishing that he’d sling an arm around her, pull her close and kiss her temple. Or maybe he’d simply ask how her day was or what was on her mind.

He stared down at her. His eyes dissected her. Took in each detail of her face. She was utterly speechless because her father’s expression was so knowing. Like he looked inside her head and saw the thoughts that whizzed around.

His arm wrapped around her, tucked her into his side and he asked, “You know I love you right?” Unable to form words she nodded her response. He kissed the top of her head. “Dinner’s in twenty.” With that, he pushed off the couch and headed toward the kitchen, leaving Annabelle stupefied.

Dinner was yummy. Her father had cooked and it was delicious. In typical fashion there had been only curt conversation. Afterward, Annabelle put on music as she helped her mom wash dinner dishes.

“Mom, do you have half an hour? I thought maybe we could give each other pedicures.”

“Now? It’s getting late Belle,” her mom said with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Are you busy doing something else?” she pushed and set the last clean dish in the drying rack. She picked at the skin around her nail beds, fidgeting, waiting.

Her mother chewed her lip. “Well, no.”

“Come on. Please. It will be fun,” she urged. Her mother gave a soft smile and nodded. Annabelle threw her arms around her and squeezed.

They headed up the stairs, her mother following close behind her. She could hear the box fan on full blast humming from her bedroom. The air conditioner in her room had broken last summer and she’d never bothered to tell her parents because they never seemed to listen to her anyway.

Annabelle and her mom sat on her bed as she laid out all the necessary items for their mock-spa fun. She picked out a dark plum color for her toes and her mother laughed, citing that it was a very morbid look. Her mom chose a pale rose color that she said would complement almost anything.

“How very practical of you Mom,” Annabelle said with a roll of her eyes and gave her mother a sardonic smile.

Her mother shrugged. “Hey. They’re
my
toes.”

“Yup. Okay, let me fill up the tubs so we can soak first. Do you have any of those smelly salts?”

“Oh! That’s a great idea. You fill, I’ll grab the bath salts.”

Her mom scooted from the bed and hurried to the master suite. When she shuffled back into the bedroom, Annabelle had two comfy chairs pulled next to each other from her reading nook with soaking tubs at the foot of each and the bottles of water from earlier next to them. She watched her mother mix in the bath salts before plunking down into the chair next to her.

“Ready?” she asked holding her feet just above the water.

“Go!” her mother exclaimed. They sunk their feet into the plastic tubs simultaneously. She groaned at the feeling of the hot water seeping into her feet. Her mother rested her head on the back of the chair and sighed.

“This was a good idea Belle.”

“Thanks.”

“Your nails look nice, did you do those today?” her mother asked as her fingers trailed over Annabelle’s fingers.

“Jezebel painted them for me. I did hers too.”

“Jezebel?”

“The lady at Glenview.” She answered.

“That was nice of you to do for her. You like her very much don’t you?”

“Yeah. She’s pretty awesome.”

“Good. You deserve that.”

Annabelle didn’t quite understand her mother’s meaning. It was an odd thing to say, she thought. She wanted to
scrutinize and analyze everything her mother said but it would only ruin the moment so she
bit her lip
and stayed silent.

By eight thirty their toes were painted to perfection. She wiggled her toes at her mother and smiled. “Nice work.”

Her mother snorted. “I’m surprised I didn’t mess up. It’s been ages since I’ve done this.” Watching her mother push up from her spot, she felt hopeful and content. It had been fun spending the evening together. Her mother looked child-like as she moved through Annabelle’s room trailing a finger over things. Actually
looking
at her room.
Her mom picked up the picture on
her nightstand
, her fingers tracing the outline of her brother’s carefree face. A pang of grief hit her. Annabelle studied her mother as she clutched the picture in her hands. Her knuckles growing white as she gripped it. The color slowly drained from her mom’s face and she set the picture back in its spot softly. Drawing in a deep breath she turned, faced Annabelle and walked past her.
Annabelle followed her mom into the hallway, confused.

“I miss him you know,” her mother blurted out. Annabelle stood, unmoving, trying desperately to think of something to say, something that would ease her mother’s pain just for a brief moment.
A million things passed through her mind but nothing came out.
She watched as her mom walked distractedly down the stairs, leaving Annabelle standing in the hall, listening to her mother’s footsteps fading, and finally the sound of nothing. She suddenly felt lonely. The poisoned silence left in her mother’s wake felt like acid slowly burning her from the inside out.

The sky faded fast into dark shades of purple and navy. There were no clouds, leaving the stars free to sparkle as they do. There were so many of them, so much sky occupied by them, she didn’t know how anyone could ever feel alone looking at them. But she did.

~
***
~

Waking up to sunshine did not seem right after a long night of melancholy dreams. The sky should be gray and the rain heavy and angry. Annabelle stretched and yawned wishing it were the weekend and she could go back to sleep. But it wasn’t and she couldn’t. She dreamed of Brant and it was torturous. The dream, plagued by images of his stiff, unmoving body lying on the sidewalk made her feel useless and frightened. Sometimes, in her dreams, she rewound to the day before. To just after school.

And in her dream she didn’t have piano lessons that afternoon. She walked home from school with her brother instead of being picked up and shuffled off by her mother. They arrived home from school together. Alive. And the four of them would sit together at the table and eat dinner. They’d talk, joke, clown around and maybe even bicker a little, but they were together, and happy.

She flung the covers away from her and shuffled to the bathroom feeling sullen. At least it was Tuesday. A smile played on her lips as she thought about her upcoming afternoon with Jezebel.

“Hey,” Madison greeted falling in step next to her.

“Hi.”

“So, I know it’s kinda far off and all, but do you think your parents will give you a reprieve for graduation?” Madison mused.

“I don’t know. I can ask I guess. I mean obviously I will attend graduation but I doubt I will get to do anything afterward.”

“Don’t they notice?”

She arched a brow at her friend. “Notice what?”

Madison sighed, completely exasperated. “How much you’ve changed.” Annabelle’s nose flared.

“Is that a joke?” she frowned and adjusted her backpack on her shoulder.

Lines creased Madison’s forehead. “No Belle, I’m serious. You’re different somehow. Not bad, just different.”

“Am I?”

Madison nodded proudly. “Yeah, I mean it’s not like world changing or anything, but I noticed. You seem . . . less uptight.”

Annabelle groaned and wanted to smack her palm to her forehead but refrained. “I was uptight?”

“Kinda. Well, high-strung I guess. Some people are! I’m not complaining, I just . . .
frack
,
this isn’t coming out right at all.” Madison pouted.

Annabelle shook her head, unconcerned. “No, it’s okay. I mean, I feel less angry lately. Maybe that’s it.” She gave a shrug as they continued walking.

“I think it’s that looney lady you spend time with. I think she’s making you deal with crap you didn’t want to—but in a really good way.” Madison rushed. “She’s one of those ‘tough love’ people as my mom would say. But really, I think maybe it’s what you needed.”

“Gee thanks?” she said tartly.

Madison didn’t bow down, instead, she speared Annabelle with a pointed look. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to tell you.”

“And you did.” Annabelle confirmed and crossed her arms over her chest with a scowl.

“Right—so moving on . . .” Madison bit her lip in thought as they shifted through the crowded hall.

“Mad,” Annabelle started. If she was honest with herself she
felt
what Madison noticed.

Madison looked to her expectantly. “Yeah?”

“I
might
agree with you but . . . why did you ever want to be my friend in the first place if I was so miserable to be around?”

Madison’s lips tilt into a slow, lazy smile. “You remember the first day of ninth grade?”

“Of course,” she said, thinking back to that day.

“When you sat down next to me in class and I said ‘hi,’ and you just shrugged at me all aloof and shit, but your eyes were so tired and sad. We were just kids. I didn’t understand why, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to help. It was stupid, maybe, but then we ended up being friends—and at my house you were lighter, different and I liked
that
Belle, so I stuck around.” Annabelle had never realized how deep Madison was, or how perceptive. She was a crappy friend for not noticing these things before. She resolved to change that—to be a better friend to Madison.

“I’m glad you did,” she admitted.

“Yeah me too. You’re alright,” Madison snickered.

“Why thank you.” Annabelle gave Madison an over-dramatic curtsy and a sweet, sarcastic smile for good measure.

“You’re welcome?” Madison laughed her rebuttal before disappearing into her first period class.

~
***
~