Jezebel (9 page)

“My God, I think you may actually be a human being after all.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t squawk at me kitten, you’re the self-absorbed teen.”

“I resent that,” she huffed.

Annabelle sat in her chair, kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs up under her, making herself comfortable. She fiddled with the cuffs of her shirt.

“My week was . . . bland. Yes, bland. What a word. Sounds exactly as it means don’t you think?”

Annabelle nodded her head. “Yup.”

“How was your week?” Jezebel asked.

“Honestly, shitty and awesome.”

“Expand on that please.”

“I found out my shitty boyfriend cheated on me, or was at the very least about to. I didn’t press for details. But, my dad made breakfast for me before his work trip; I can’t even remember the last time he did that.
And
my mom made cookies.
Cookies!
”

Jezebel grinned. “Why do you think all that happened out of the blue?”

“Yeah yeah—I get it. I asked them about their days at dinners and I played music in the kitchen, and I asked my dad why we’re not allowed to talk about him—my brother. I think it all happened because I made them feel guilty.”

“Guilt is a strong motivator, but do you really think it was
just
guilt?”

“Well, I’d like to think no—but yeah, it probably was just guilt.”

“You don’t think that, perhaps, they miss the same memories that you do? That maybe you guilted them into action—but that they too enjoyed the result?”

“Were you like a philosophy professor before or something?”

“Hardly,” Jezebel scoffed.

“What
were
you?”

“Does it matter?”

“No. But we talk about Celeste—I feel like I know her kinda. But you—we never talk about. I don’t really
know
anything about you.”

“And, you want to know me?” Jezebel asked.

“Yes,” she replied simply and waited. It hadn’t really crossed her mind before, but now she wanted to know who exactly Jezebel was.

Jezebel stared out the window for a long moment as if contemplating where to start. Annabelle let her gather her thoughts in silence, curious as to what Jezebel would eventually say.

“Eighteen years ago I was blessed enough to marry my best friend. He’s handsome and charming, patient and gentle and smokes like a chimney.”

“That’s who brought the plant for you?”

“Yes.”

“Is it hard to be here . . . away from him?”

“Very. It’s hard to be away from someone who saved you. Someone who supported you in ways you never thought another person could.”

Annabelle frowned. “I’m sorry. Does he come to visit?”

“Once a week like you. He still works full time, of course, but he spends one entire day with me each week.”

“Well that’s nice.”

“Yes it is.”

“How’d he save you?” she asked.

“Oh. I lost someone very close to me many, many years ago. Unexpected death is a terrible thing, as you know.” Jezebel sighed. “He held me together when I could not do it myself. He let me fall apart safely. He let me heal properly. I would not be me without him.”

“Sorry you lost someone too,” she mumbled.

“It was another lifetime. I’m well past it now, dear.”

“Was it your idea to come here or his?”

“He travels often for work and I am just so forgetful now. I kept misplacing items. I got lost a couple of times going to a grocery store that I’d been to a thousand times. When I started forgetting the names of simple objects he said it would be safer for me to be well cared for and here, I am well cared for.”

Jezebel looked solemn and resigned to the fact that her life was what it was now. Annabelle felt a pang of sadness deep in her chest for the woman. She didn’t seem forgetful in the least and she’d noticed no signs of a deteriorating mind during her visits. Perhaps she had good days and bad days.

“So, do you have kids?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Nosey aren’t you?” Jezebel replied.

“Curious,” she retorted. Jezebel chuckled at her answer.

“I worked too much to have kids.”

“What did you do?”

“I was a veterinary assistant.”

“Really? That sounds cool. I love animals.” she answered.

“Do you have pets?”

Annabelle frowned. “No. My parents would never allow us—I mean me—to have any.”

“Annabelle,” Jezebel started, “here, in this room, be you. Remember your brother—your family the way you want—all you want.”

Annabelle smiled and nodded at the woman. She understood—this was a safe place for her. She could vent all she wanted. She could
feel
all she wanted. She could just
be.
It was a powerful sensation. Hope burrowed a hole into her heart. She coddled it, let it snuggle in.

“Are you ready for some more of our story?”

“Yeah. But honestly, I’m waiting for the shoe to drop.”

“The shoe to drop?”

“Yeah you know, all this buildup, Celeste being in love with Gabriel—I’m waiting for it to fall apart.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know—just a gut feeling. Like one of them has a brain tumor and dies or something like that.”

“My God kid, that’s morbid as hell.”

“Is it? I mean is this entire story just going to end at them having a magnificent wedding and lived happily ever after?”

Jezebel snorted, which made her laugh. “No sugar, not at all. The wedding, you could say, was just the beginning of their story really.”

“Alright, I guess. You might as well get on with it.”

“Well if that’s how you feel . . .” Jezebel turned her head and stared out the window.

“Jezzie come on. I mean it. I want to know what happens. Just pick up from 1985. Please?”

Chapter 8

Celeste

Paris 1985

The fall semester ended without fanfare and Celeste was relieved to have the summer at her disposal, as was Gabriel. He would, of course, still be burdened by full-time work, but her evenings were now free allowing them to spend more time together during the week on a consistent basis.

The bar that Matteo, Mara and she were currently sitting in was filled with students letting off steam at the completion of the semester. Mara was waving over a tall, dark, sexy man as Matteo headed toward their table carrying three drinks.

“Who is that?” Celeste asked.

“That, fine stud muffin is Charles. My date for the evening.” Mara winked and Celeste doubled over with laughter. Another unsuspecting soul was about to be claimed by her best friend. Mara had the love life of dirty pair of underpants. She was always changing men.

“Charles, this is Cece,” Mara introduced. Celeste stuck her hand out. He took it and firmly shook.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” she replied. Mara kicked her under the table which made her giggle. Matteo slid in next to her and pushed everyone’s glasses to their appropriate owners.

“Matteo,” he said to Charles, a cigarette dangling effortlessly between his lips.

“Charles,” Mara’s date for the night replied.

Their booth was small. Matteo was close enough that whenever he moved, his shoulder brushed hers. His warmth radiated from him. Charles and Matteo struck up an easy conversation allowing Celeste to really look at him and Mara for the first time in months.

He was bigger now somehow, filled out, more manly looking. His expression was droll as he listened to whatever Charles was saying. Sitting smushed between him and the wall Celeste was relaxed; Matteo was as comfortable as her favorite pair of jeans. It was a strange thing to think about. She pushed the thought aside and watched the women moving about the bar. Jealous, catty glances were shot her way. If they only knew Matteo wasn’t
with
her. No doubt they would be all over him. How did he not notice?

She turned her attention to Mara who was gawking at Charles. She looked happy and content, an expressions she didn’t often have in the company of her date-of-the-week. She watched as Mara sighed and took a sip of her drink before resting her hand casually over Charles’ bicep. A claiming move. A move unlike her dear friend. Mara played the aloof game often and men ate it up, loving the chase of the seemingly unattainable, but not now. Now Mara appeared love-struck. Celeste realized with a hint of anxiety that she hadn’t exactly had much time to sit and gossip with Mara lately about life. Could she really be falling for this man? She filed that away for later when they were home alone and could talk and laugh well into the night. She needed to find out what was up with Charles.

After the group’s third round, their fourth appeared at the table. Celeste felt the tell-tale signs of being one foot in the land of the buzzed and the other foot firmly planted in drunk land. She leaned her head on Matteo’s shoulder, and in return he placed his lips on her hair and kissed her. Not with romantic intentions—no, with friendly affection, as if to say: I know you’re here. It made Celeste giggle. Matteo would be so damn perfect for some woman. She wished he’d find that person already. She giggled more as she ticked off women she knew who she might introduce to him. As she ran through the mental list she found something wrong with each, or something that
he
would find wrong with them. It was totally inappropriate laughter bubbling out of her yet she couldn’t stop it.

“You alright?” Matteo asked, drawing Mara and Charles’ attention to her as well.

“I’m fabulous. Finals are over and there are only two, count ’em one,” she held up a finger, “two,” she raised another, “semesters left until we graduate!” She was pretty certain that the word graduate came out more like
graayouate.
She was in need of water at this point. Mara and Charles chuckled and Matteo excused himself to procure a tall glass of water for her.

“I need to tinkle.” She giggled. Mara outright laughed at her declaration and nodded for her to go ahead.

Celeste wobbled for a moment when she stood. Gathering her wits she, rather ungracefully, made her way to the restroom in the back of the pub. The line, thank God, was short. She was in and out in less than ten minutes. She fumbled her way back toward the table but before she got there a strong arm wrapped around her and tugged.

“Épouse-moi,”
marry me,
he said. Celeste felt her brows lift and her eyes grow wide. Gabriel’s grin widened. She couldn’t help but be swept up in his dimpled smile. His carefree expression was mesmerizing. Hell, everything about him was mesmerizing.

“Gabriel,” she squealed while she threw her arms around him.

“I’ll ask you every day until I wear you down and the only logical answer becomes yes.”

“I’ve heard that line before,” she answered, snorting.

“I know what I want, Celeste.” Celeste thought about his words, his
game,
and decided to play along.

“What about next month? Next year? Twenty years from now?” she asked just as she had more than a year ago.

“Je vous veux,”
I’ll want you,
he answered. The conviction in his voice still made her heart slam against her ribs. She loved this man.

“How are you here?” she asked.

“I came to find you. You said you’d be here with the gang after finals.”

“I’m glad you’re here. I think Mara might actually be
in love.
” She laughed at the thought. “You have to meet him!”

As Celeste tried to right herself and pull away from Gabriel she lost her grip on him, or he lost his grip on her, and she slammed ass-down on the floor. When she burst out laughing Gabriel stood and grabbed her hands.

He helped her to her feet, and then kept his hand at her elbow as they walked to the table. She thought how lucky she was that Gabriel was so gentlemanly and chivalrous. Her stomach almost erupted with butterflies from the gesture because it was intimate and familiar and sexy. She was so lucky.

“Maybe we should just head home,” Gabriel offered. She shook her head no and he sighed at her before grumbling about something she didn’t catch.

“Matteo! Mara! Look who I found.”

“Gabriel, glad you could join us,” Mara greeted. “This is Charles.” The men shook hands and lifted their chins at each other. Celeste took the opportunity to chug the entire glass of water Matteo had placed on the table.

“I was just saying I should take Celeste home. She’s . . . drunk.”

“Oh come on,” she whined.

“I think it’s probably for the best,” Matteo weighed in.

Celeste suddenly found herself the subject of scrutiny as three faces all watched her for signs that it was indeed time for her to leave. She felt like a scolded child. She wasn’t drunk. She wasn’t exactly sober either but she didn’t need to go home.

“Fine. Let’s go.” She tugged Gabriel’s arm to get him moving. Mara called out for her not to be such a bad sport but Celeste was past that point. She was definitely a poor sport at the moment, it was evident in the way she stomped to the door. “Your place or mine?” she asked agitated.

“Ours.”

“Gabriel, I’m not in the mood for your shameless plug for a joint home,” she pouted.

“If you’d stop being an idiot for a moment and pay attention . . .”

“An
idiot?
” she screeched. Her arms flailed wildly as she let off a string of curses at her boyfriend. When she was done and silence surrounded them, she found Gabriel smiling.
Smiling.

“What’s your deal?” she asked still angry at everyone’s babying treatment of her.

“My
deal,
Celeste,” she loved the way her name dripped from his lips, “is that you are ruining a perfectly magical night.”

She scoffed. “I am not. What is so magical about tonight?”

“This,” he said.

Taking her arm he led her. She followed in silence completely confused. He walked her two blocks to the garden where they’d first met. The more fresh air she took in the less buzzed she felt. Standing under the arbor at the entrance he asked, “Tell me what you see.”

She took a moment to look around. “I see lights, in the garden. But . . . but it’s closed now.”

He led her into the garden park towards the lights until they were in the exact spot they’d first met. The only things missing were the dance floor, bar and tables. And guests of course. She smiled up at him.
This man.
He was almost too good to be true.

“Celeste, mon amour, I’ve been trying to figure this out for some time now. Nothing I dream up is quite right though. I admit, as a last resort I called in some favors.”

“Favors from whom?” She asked.

Matteo, Mara and Charles stepped from behind a tree across the open space. Celeste gasped. Lights twinkled overhead and a waltz started abruptly. Naturally her head turned to find the source of the music. Matteo held a boom box on his shoulder. He looked ridiculous but adorable.

Turning back to Gabriel she smiled. “Just one dance?”

“No Celeste, je veux que tous d’entre eux.”
I want all of them.
He kneeled before her and pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. “Épouse-moi.”
Marry me,
he asked.

Temporarily ignoring the ring, Celeste sank to her knees in front of him. The moment felt like a scene out of
Sixteen Candles.
Excited tears dripped down her cheeks. She was flabbergasted. They’d discussed moving in together but not marriage. Shock and joy coursed through her.

“Oui, cent fois oui,”
yes, a hundred times yes,
she cried.

Matteo, Mara and Charles clapped and whooped in delight as Celeste and Gabriel shared a passionate kiss that seemed to seal their fate. Gabriel’s hands tangled in her hair, his lips on hers. She was cherished, he gave her his heart and they would build their own world, their own happiness. He ended their kiss reverently placing soft kisses at the corners of her lips.

“Show us the ring!” Mara whooped. Celeste laughed. Gabriel stood with her and tucked her into his side. She plucked the large solitaire from the lush padding and held it up to inspect it. The inside of the band glinted in the light. She squinted and inspected it more: à une vie de découverte,
to a life of discovery.
She glanced up to Gabriel, not understanding.

“You are the key to a life of discovery.” He touched her necklace. She swooned.

This man, the one who held doors, made love to her, who was playful, demanding and thoughtful, was going to be her husband. “It’s perfect,” she breathed. Gabriel slid the ring onto her finger. A perfect fit.

Celeste extended her hand to her friends. Mara made a sound in the back of her throat that sounded odd as she examined the ring. It wasn’t easy to surprise or impress her. Gabriel had done an excellent job choosing. Matteo clapped Gabriel on the back before pulling Celeste into a tight hug and whispering, “I’m happy for you fiore mio.” She squeezed him back hard. Now he just needed to find the perfect woman.

“Congratulations,” Charles offered.

All four heads turned to the stranger of the group and they promptly burst out laughing. Having Mara’s new date sharing in the very private moment was completely absurd and totally welcome. The tape in the boom box stopped and with it the music.

“Excuse me, everyone, while I whisk my fiancé away to properly celebrate her acceptance,” Gabriel stated.

Charles laughed and Mara elbowed him in the side. He looked to her with a look that screamed
What’d I do wrong?
Matteo laughed at the two of them before she and Gabriel quietly snuck away.

~
***
~

Where are we going?” she questioned as they passed her dorm, then Gabriel’s apartment.

“Shhh, mon amour, don’t make me blindfold you,” he threatened playfully.

“I could still talk with a blindfold,” she deadpanned. He chuckled, filling the car with the deep sound.

“Touché. Maybe a gag would suit you better.”

“I’m hurt!” she feigned offence.

“We’re almost there. I promise,” he said. He took her hand and brought it to rest on his thigh. She loved that he did that. Always in contact somehow, always wanting to be connected. It was endearing.

Almost there in Celeste’s opinion and almost there in Gabriel’s turned out to be two very different things. They drove to the opposite side of Paris and into an adorable small neighborhood made up of beautiful houses that had plots of land with them. A place like this would be the best place to have a garden of her own and still be fairly central to all the happenings in the city. In biking distance from Pantheon and Luxembourg Gardens, she would be able to cruise the Seine for an intimate look at the city, people-watch at a sidewalk café with a pain au chocolat on the beautiful Left Bank or simply wander through the streets when it the mood struck.