Waking Anastasia (17 page)

“You mean the Fabergé eggs?”

She turned to him, one eyebrow arched in surprise. “You have seen them?”

“Only photos. Incredible works.”

“Truly. My favourite is the Winter Egg. It is made of platinum, diamonds, moonstone, and rock crystal. The tiny, perfect basket of spring flowers inside is made of platinum, gold, white quartz, and green garnets. I would sit and stare at it for hours, shining an electric torch at it from every conceivable angle simply to watch the play of light off its perfect magnificence. It was Alma Pihl’s greatest design by far. Over one thousand three hundred and fifty rose-diamonds on the basket alone.”

Stunned, Jerry shook his head. “Did you say thirteen hundred and fifty diamonds?”

“On the basket of flowers. Thirteen hundred on the body of the egg, and almost four hundred on the borders.”

“That makes bamboo sculpture sound pretty lame.”

“Lame?”

“Unimpressive. Boring.”

“Not at all! Look at the detail and workmanship that went into making the pagodas and bridges. Look at the tiny cranes. Four of them and no two alike in posture and detail. The materials and cost don’t make art beautiful, but rather the skill and love poured into it.”

Lifting Ana’s chin, Jerry kissed her on the tip of her nose. “True enough.” Yup, love.

Ana giggled and skipped back and away from him, teasing him at arm’s length while searching for her next photographic subject.

@TheTaoOfJerr: “Those who dance are considered insane by those who don’t hear the music.”

~Friedrich Nietzsche

MANNY ARGUED AGAINST
Jerry coming to work at all, but Jerry knew that there were some things he couldn’t do from his computer at home. “Besides, I need to feel useful, and if the staff see me, maybe they’ll stop worrying about me and just enjoy the Christmas season. I’ve had thirty-seven emails in the last day-and-a-half, asking me how I’m doing and do I need anything.” Manny finally acquiesced after Jerry promised not to push himself too hard and to call if he felt even a little dizzy.

JERRY HUNG HIS
coat up and closed his office door until it was only a bit ajar. Plain White T’s catchy “Hey There Delilah” played over the speaker. He reached for the book poking out of his pocket, but decided to leave it where it was.

“I’m losing my damned mind. I’m falling for a ghost and carrying around a book of old poetry so I can be close to her. What is it with me and impossible women?” He slipped in behind his desk and pulled the wire mesh in-basket to the middle. He started in on the pile and after a moment the familiar blue glow radiated from his coat. He didn’t look up, just kept sorting the papers into two piles.

Ana coalesced slowly. “This is your office?”

“I think so. I haven’t spent much time in it since I arrived in town.”

“Then I shall simply sit here, quietly. Or I can return to the book if you would prefer that.”

Jerry looked up. Ana waited for his decision. He knew she only wanted to spend time with him, but she was willing to go back to whatever dark limbo waited for her in the book, just so
he
could do work he really didn’t have the energy for in the first place. He smiled as big as he could. “Please, sit. Relax. Read a magazine or something.” He gestured at a stack of radio industry glossies on top of the short file cabinet.

“Thank you. Just forget I am here. I used to sit and watch Father work for hours on end, and he would forget I was even in the room. I shall be quiet as a church mouse, I promise.”

Jerry laughed softly. “It’s okay. But if anyone comes in you have to disappear because we really didn’t think this through. I should have had you come in the front door with me so that Security knows you’re here.” He stood up. “As a matter of fact, let’s do that. If you’ll go back into the book for a couple minutes, I’ll take it outside and then you can come out and walk in the front door with me. Then I can get you a Visitor’s Pass and maybe find someone to give you a tour. How does that sound?”

Ana leaned toward him and whispered, “It sounds absolutely marvellous, Mister Powell.” Then she was gone and back into the book. Jerry shrugged back into his coat and made his way to the Reception desk, book in hand.

“Samhail, I’m just going to step out and meet a friend on her way over. I’ll be back shortly. Is there a sheet I have to sign her in on or a pass to issue?”

“Yes sir, there is. You go meet her and I will have it all ready for you. What is her name, please?”

“Her name? Um, Ana.”

“Ana. Guest of Mr. Powell. I’ll take care of it, sir. You’re welcome to wait here in the lobby where it’s warm.”

“Thanks, but I couldn’t remember the exact address so I just told her to walk east once she turned the corner. I’ll go make sure she doesn’t miss the place.”

“Very well.”

Jerry ducked out to the street and went around the corner of the building to the alley between the old buildings. He tugged the book out, gave it a quick rub, and shielded the resultant glow from the street with his body. A moment later Ana stood before him and reached up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Quick, Jerry, you will freeze, and I am taking you away from your work like I promised I would
not
.”

“This is hardly cold, but you’re right, and I should get back to work so I can get enough done that we can take you shopping for clothes. You can’t keep wearing my sweatshirts and jeans.”

“That would be splendid. But, let us get inside,
now
. I so command you.”

“Yes, your Imperial Shvibzikness.” He bowed and led her out to the street and into the station. Five minutes later he was once again ensconced at his desk, while Mika gave Ana the grand tour of the station.

A LIGHT TAP
on the closed office door snapped Jerry out of his daze. He’d been staring at the same Advertiser Summary Sheet for the past five minutes, and the knock seemed to be his cue to quit for the day.

“Enter at your own risk.”

Mika peeked in, a cautious smile lighting her face. “How are you feeling, Boss? It’s been pretty quiet in here.”

“Good, thanks. I finally feel like I’m earning at least part of my salary. I’m still not sure I’ve earned the title of ‘Boss’, though.” He tried to look around Mika. “Um . . . ”

“Since Manny is really protective of the library, Ana’s in my office listening to my iTunes. She’s a real sweetie, but a little odd. I asked if she had any requests I could cue up for her and she asked for ‘the one about Grigori Rasputin’. She was snickering along to Boney M when I left her. That song’s older than all three of us.”

“Not quite, but close. I grew up listening to jazz and Big Band because that’s all my mother could tolerate. If it wasn’t for MTV, I never would have known about disco and Rock and Roll.”

“And you run a radio station?”

“Let’s just say I did a lot of catching up once I left the nest. I had four thousand CDs and almost half of that in vinyl before I finally went digital, because the industry had me moving around so much.” He logged off his computer and straightened the piles of files and reports that seemed to have doubled since he’d sat down.

“That sounds like a righteous collection.”

“It took two years of spare time to digitalize it all, and even though I used the best software available, none of it compares with the original vinyl. Scratch, hiss, and pop are the only way to go.”

“No doubt. My fiancé has started tracking down obscure, collectable vinyl. I sort of got him hooked on it. Oh, speaking of Danveer, you’ll get a chance to meet him New Year’s Eve.”

Jerry raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”

“Sort of. Ana and I decided that you two should use a couple of the extra comp tickets the station was given for the First Night Gala at the Fairmont Empress Hotel. I texted Manny to clear it and he loves the idea. Most of the staff will be there so you just
have
to come. Great food, live music, and you don’t
have
to dance if you’re not up for it. You don’t have to, but I got the impression that Ana will be seriously disappointed if you don’t.”

“Not as disappointed as she’ll be when she sees me dance and realizes that I’m beyond bad.”

“Well, whether you’re dancing or not, she needs an outfit to die for.”

Jerry smiled at the unintended pun. “If she really wants to go, then she’ll have it. Neither one of us has been to a gala since sometime last century. Do me a favour, please, and email me the details. Are we talking ‘killer’ cocktail dress or fancy schmancy ball gown?”

“Last year there were prom dresses, bridesmaid dresses, and one or two fancy gowns. Floor-length was the trend. It’s tux-or-stay-home for the men. I’ll include a few pics from last year’s event. It was absolutely amazing.”

“Better send me the links to the most likely shops to carry this stuff.” An idea occurred to him. “Actually, Mika, do you know of any good costume shops? Places that rent quality costumes?”

“Only one place to go for fancy—Island Costumes. We use them all the time for our Steampunk events throughout the year. They’ve got everything. I’ll include their contact info.”

“Perfect. Thank you.” Jerry stood, stretched the kinks out of his back and neck. “Now we’d better fetch Ana—she and I have some shopping to do.”

EVEN WITH HER
gold-lacquered nails, red-and-black-dyed hair, and dangly pearl earrings, the sales girl at Island Costumes looked to be about twenty-two and was about as giddy as a sixteen-year-old when Ana told her what she was looking for in a dress. She rooted under the counter while nodding her head and saying, “Yes . . . yes . . . yes . . .” to everything Ana said. Her nametag said “Ginnius” and she seemed as mentally flighty as any genius Jerry had ever met.

“A ball gown, please,” Ana described. “Strapless. Natural waist. Hemline just above the floor so I can dance.”

“With whom, Ana?” Jerry didn’t see the need to be specific about her dress style just so she could sway back and forth on the dance floor to “Stairway to Heaven” with him at the end of the night.

“Shush, silly man. I am picturing something in my mind.”

“Then you’d better picture a clumsy oaf stepping over your feet while you’re at it.”

Both women frowned at him simultaneously. Ana went on imagining out loud, while Ginnius returned to searching. “Sleeveless, appliques, beading.”

“Taffeta?” asked the voice from beneath the counter.

“Please.”

“Embroidery? Crystals or just beads?”

“Crystals? Oh, yes. Crystals and beads both would be marvellous. And embroidery.” She bounced on her toes, excited.

“Cool. Lace-up back?”

“Of course!”

“Fully lined? Built-in bra?”

“Um, yes?”

Jerry could have sworn Ana blushed. She truly was an old-fashioned girl. He’d better keep her away from a Victoria’s Secret store or she’d be completely scandalized. He smiled. Her sweetness was enchanting.

“Okay. Fully lined, with a built-in bra. Boning okay? Well,
metal
boning. Plastic tends to break and can cut you or worse, and we prefer to leave real whalebone for the museums and collectors. Since you’re just renting, it’s about the look, not the value. So, boning?”

“Of course. Please.”

“Got it!” Ginnius came up from below holding a photo album and slapped it on the wooden countertop. “We have three left. One just came back and still needs to be dry-cleaned so you’ve got a choice of off-white or emerald green . . . I think.” She flipped through a couple more pages and finally found what she was looking for. “Sorry it took so long. Computer crashed this morning, and we’re strictly old-school, low-tech until the boss gets back next week.” She spun the album around and tapped a photo of a model in an emerald green ball gown. “Green or white. Not many choices at the last minute. Wouldn’t even have these if all the themed New Year’s parties this year hadn’t gone for the Jackie O retro sixties look.”

Jerry interrupted. “Even the one at the Empress is sixties?”

“Good God, no. That one is always très trad. If you’re going to the Empress Ballroom, then forget the white and go with the green. It’s the only green one we’ve got, and two whites and a pale blue have already been rented for the same party.”

“The same style? I’d like Ana to feel special, not like one of a dozen women dressed the same.”

“Not a problem. The others went to old women who haven’t rocked an hourglass shape in
decades
. Two of them had us add trains and Queen of England crowns, and one even has a sceptre. Think more Queen Mum than Kate, Duchess of York.”

Ana hadn’t said a word since the photograph was placed in front of her. Her fingertips gently traced the outlines of the dress in the image, and Jerry thought she was going to cry. “You okay, Shvibzik? Are you sure you want to do this?”

When she finally looked up, Ana was grinning widely, her eyes sparkling like gems. “Oh, we are most certainly going to do this. But only if we can find you something to match.”