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Authors: Timothy Reynolds

Tags: #Fantasy

Waking Anastasia (19 page)

BOOK: Waking Anastasia
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“Six weeks. Valentine’s Day weekend. I’ll talk to the organizers and set up a VIP package for about twenty people. We can give away four passes on air every Friday leading right up to the event.”

“Excellent. Perfect. I’m the new face around here, so tell me how I can help. I’ll take in any event you want, and I’ll bring at least one of the on-airs with me.”

“And your girlfriend, Ana.”

“Ana? How do you know about Ana?”

“Mika. She thinks Ana is adorable and perfect. She also said she talked you into bringing her to the First Night Ball at the Empress.”

“She did. Ana’s pretty excited.”

Manny leaned in. “Girlfriend? I thought you left her behind.”

“No, that was Haley. Ana’s someone I just met here in Victoria. Is it a problem, Manny? I just gave her a tour of the station. I wouldn’t exactly call her my girlfriend.”

“The only problem, mate, is going to be with Carmella when she finds out she hasn’t met her, yet.”

“Is New Year’s Eve soon enough?”

“It’ll be fine. Better not make plans for dinner the next day, though. Carmella will bloody insist that you two come have New Year’s Day dinner with our family.”

“Ana’s a bit shy.” And not much for eating or drinking, he thought.

Lee-Anne laughed. “That’s not what I heard, Jerry. Mika thinks we should put her on air, she’s so full of life and has that cute accent.”

“Ah, okay. Let’s table this discussion for a much later date.
Please
. We’ve only just started seeing each other and mixing work and home is—as we were just discussing—a risky business.”

“Whatever you say, Jerr-bear. Oops.
Jerry
. Sorry.” She blushed. “Anyway, if you’ve just started dating, you need to wow her. Remind me after we’re done here that I’ve got some comp tickets you two can use. Admission to Herman’s Jazz Club, and a free carriage ride around Beacon Hill Park. If jazz and a carriage ride don’t win her heart, she’s dead inside. Just saying.”

“Jazz and a carriage ride would be perfect. Thank you.” Dead inside? He nearly laughed aloud. Ana was more alive than most of the living people he knew, which was probably why she made him feel so energized, even when he was exhausted.

“Right then, you two. Mr. I-Haven’t-Got-A-Girlfriend and Mrs. Let-Me-Help-You-Win-Her-Heart, how are we going to promote this Nicely Naughty thing without losing our older listeners and landing ourselves in jail?”

 

TWO HOURS LATER
they had their plan, Manny had hope for the station, Lee-Anne had solidified their respect for her and had a new confidence in herself, and Jerry had the passes in hand and a carriage ride booked for an hour after dusk that evening. He also had trouble focusing on anything for any length of time. He was thankful he’d left the Jeep at home and walked to the station.

About a block from the loft he ran into a wall of exhaustion, like someone had cut his strings, again. He found a bench and sat. “A two minute time out. That’s all I need. Then I can nap at home, rest my eyes.”

It was closer to ten minutes when Jerry finally admitted that his bed was calling his name louder than the bench was. He started off again and made it home quickly. Ana was nowhere to be seen, but her book was on the coffee table so he figured she was probably just saving her energy for when he got home. He hung up his coat, placed the passes for that evening’s entertainment next to the Blake book, and crashed, fully dressed, on the bed. He drifted toward wakefulness when he felt a blanket draped over him and Ana climb under and snuggle up against him, but exhaustion won the battle and he tumbled back into sleep.

 

AT FIRST JERRY
thought the Belgian draft horse was going to spook and bolt down the street with the carriage in tow when Ana approached her. The chestnut mare’s eyes went wide and she pulled her head up, away from Ana’s reaching hand, but as soon as the Grand Duchess placed her slender palm on the big girl’s cheek, calm was restored. Ana stroked the mare’s neck and spoke softly to their sixtyish carriage driver, Bryce.

“She is beautiful, sir.
Cheval de trait belge
?”

Bryce grinned widely, his big handlebar moustache wiggling. “You, young lady, know your breeds. Marie here is all Belgian and a fifth generation mare in our stable. I helped deliver her, and she’s my go-to girl when the temperatures drop but folks still want to see Victoria the most romantic way there is. Are you a breeder or just a fan?”

“My family had a rather large stable, many years ago. I grew up with carriages and sleighs and these beautiful beasts everywhere I went.”

“Well, then, let’s get you two up where it’s warm and allow me to take you back to a time when horse and carriage ruled this fair town of ours.” Bryce helped Ana up and then Jerry.

Ana got the two of them settled under the blankets, Jerry helping as he could. He looked around at all of the Christmas lights and light dusting of snow. It was beautiful, almost as beautiful as the young woman beside him. He snuggled in close, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. She did so, then leaned away and looked up at him, one eyebrow up.

“You are very quiet, my Sweet. Are you feeling well? You are not battling another headache are you?”

“No. I’m good, thanks. Tired, I suppose. Just happy to be here, with you . . .” With who? Oh, yes, Ana. “With you, Ana.” That was odd. For a split second he couldn’t remember who he was with. He must be really wiped out. Maybe they’d better skip the jazz club later and just get a good night’s sleep. As soon as Maury—no,
Manny
—had found out about Ana, he gave Jerry tomorrow off to rest up for the ball that night. Ana would probably have him working on the samba all day, but a day of rest would be good. Jerry drifted off, lulled by the under-blanket warmth, the rhythm of the carriage, and the bright conversation between Ana and Bryce as they passed places named “Mayor’s Grove” and “Chestnut Grove” in Beacon Hill Park. He didn’t even hear the clicking of the camera’s shutter as Ana did her best to capture Beacon Hill Park’s Christmas lights from the moving carriage.

 

THE CARRIAGE JINGLED
to a halt and somewhere in the distance Jerry could hear Ana and Bryce having an animated conversation that seemed to be coming to a conclusion with Ana gushing her thanks.

“Oh, Mr. Smith, you are completely wonderful. Are you most certain about it? It will be on your night off.”

“Miss Ana, it would be my pleasure. Besides, I don’t think Maria would forgive me if I let you arrive at the biggest, fanciest ball of the year in the city’s most beautiful gown without a proper mode of transportation. I only wish we had a giant pumpkin for you to arrive in with your sleepy Prince Charming here.”

Ana kissed Jerry’s cheek, bringing him fully awake. “He certainly is that, Mr. Smith. He certainly is that.”

“Will you two be okay to get home?”

Jerry looked around. They were back where they started and not too far from the loft. “Um, thank you, but we should be good. I’m sorry I dozed off there. It’s been a long couple of days.”

“Not a problem at all, Jerry. Young Ana here was telling me all about it, although I suspect she didn’t quite tell me everything.” Ana giggled. “Now, I’ve given your young princess my card. She’s going to have you give me a call just after noon tomorrow so we can finalize the details. What you missed while you dozed, was that somehow I believe that the beautiful gown Ana showed me a picture of needs to be delivered to the ball in true style. Maria and I were supposed to be off, being senior members of the crew, but a yellow cab is just not going to cut it for you youngsters, so we will be suited up and ready to wow the elite of Victoria with you.” He climbed down from his high perch behind Belgian Maria.

“Wow. Um . . . I slept through quite a bit.” Jerry looked at Ana, who busied herself with folding up the blankets and stacking them neatly on the carriage’s rear-facing bench. “I guess I’ll get any and all details when we get home.”

“I suppose you will. She does love to talk, this one does. Made me look like a mime.” He helped Jerry down from the carriage; who in turn helped Ana down. As soon as her boots were on the path, she curtsied to Bryce. “A more graceful young lady, I have never met,” he returned. “Your parents raised you well, young lady.”

“Thank you, Mr. Smith. They would be very pleased to hear that you think so.”

“You two youngsters enjoy the rest of the evening. Jerry, good luck with the dance lessons, and I’ll talk to you shortly after noon to swap details.” He climbed back up behind Maria, and with a click of his tongue and a symbolic snap of the reins, they were off, back to their stables.

Ana slipped her hand into Jerry’s and squeezed. “You are the most wonderful man in the whole wide world.”

“This from the Grand Duchess who has charmed the top hat off of a carriage driver?”

“I am innocent of all charges.”

“You are a little imp. Now, I hate to rain on the parade of fun, but do you mind if we postpone the jazz club until next week? That little nap in the carriage helped, but I’m still a bit fuzzy around the edges and an evening on the couch is probably all I can manage. I can still give you an introduction to jazz, but it won’t be live, not yet.”

“Returning to the loft is most satisfactory to me, Mr. Powell. Where thou goest, so wilt I.”

“Then goest me home, please. I can walk just fine; I just can’t read street signs too well right now. My eyes are exhausted.”

“Home it is, sir.” She took him by the hand and led him back to the loft, where he paused to rest on the bottom step before making the climb up. Once inside, Ana took Jerry’s coat and hung it up. Gently, she escorted him to the couch and pushed him down onto it. A quick kiss on his forehead and she danced out of reach.

“I shall endeavour to cook you something mostly palatable to keep your strength up and then I hope to have you show me how to put my photographs on to the computer. To set the mood, I have put together what you in the wireless industry call a ‘playlist’.” With three quick keystrokes on the laptop, Ana had Ace of Base’s bouncy, infectious “The Sign” filling the space. She smiled at Jerry. “Not too loud?”

He laughed. “Not at all.” He leaned back against the cushions and watched Ana spin and twirl her way around the desk and into the kitchen. Some of her dance moves looked distinctly modern. “Don’t tell me you learned that from Pierre in 1917, young lady.”

“Ha! Not at all! Pierre would have appreciated modern music, but this is all YouTube!”

“I’m glad to see you’ve been putting the Internet to good use. Just don’t watch Honey Boo Boo or I’ll have to sell your book.” He winked at her when she stopped dancing at the threat. “Never.” She continued dancing, taking items out of the refrigerator, placing pots on the stove, swinging it all through the air in rhythmic arches and poses. When Ace of Base was done she froze in place, a domestic tableau. There was a beat of silence and then Ana put the bag of pasta on the counter as Roxette’s “The Big L.” started up. It was obvious she’d listened to the song a few times because when the band sang “Hey now, touch the sky” she was right on cue with a leap that took her straight up at the ceiling, leaving Jerry’s sweatshirt behind.

“Careful!” What was he saying?! She was a ghost! Her need to be careful was long past. With a quick flip, Ana landed her feet on the ceiling and proceeded to dance across it, lip-synching to the chorus while her hair and skirt floated around her in complete defiance of gravity. Jerry got to his feet and took Ana’s hands as she passed over the couch. Together the two of them danced around the loft, she, graceful on the ceiling, and he, plodding but uncaring on the floor, and their laughter nearly drowning out the music.

Roxette ended and Ana spun Jerry back to the couch and dropped into the kitchen just in time for ABBA to fill the loft, begging Jerry to “Take a Chance on Me”. By the time the song was done she had pasta in the pot of boiling water, sauce simmering on the stove, and was placing sliced French bread in the toaster oven.

“Ace of Base, Roxette, and ABBA?”

“I had a needish for Swedish.”

“Nice one, Shvibzik. What’s next? Candy Dulfer’s smooth saxophone?”

“Candy is from Holland, Mr. Smarty.”

“Oh.”

“But that is close enough for me.” Candy Dulfer and Dave Stewart’s sensuous “Lily Was Here” started up, the simple guitar and saxophone duet a perfect balance. Ana stepped through the kitchen island, solidified again, and pulled Jerry gently to his feet and into her arms. With slow, measured steps, she led him around the loft a second time, fitting their waltz steps to the slow rhythm of the guitar-sax duet.

The song ended and Ana kissed Jerry full on the mouth. He kissed her back, feeling that in that one single moment, life could not get any better. The toaster oven dinged and Ana broke away to finish preparing the meal. Pulling the golden-brown bread out of the toaster, she looked up and smiled. “Just in case you have seen fit to forget, Mr. Powell, I love you. Heart, soul, and ectoplasm.”

“And I lo—
ectoplasm
?”

“I watched
Ghostbusters
. Who you gonna call?” The music changed, a high male voice with Chinese flute backing him up suddenly filled the air, and it was time for “Kung Fu Fighting”. Jerry laughed, shook his head, and leaned back again while Ana did a bad imitation of Asian martial arts while continuing with the dinner prep.

BOOK: Waking Anastasia
9.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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