Matching Wits with Venus

by Therese Gilardi

  “You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” Jennie said quietly. “I mean, about Colin.”

  Amelia shrugged. “What choice do I have? I still can’t believe he did that to me. I guess that’s what I get for ignoring my inner voice.” Amelia laughed bitterly. “Pretty funny, wouldn’t you say? For years I’ve gone around mocking people talking about how they live their lives guided by intuition when the reality is had I had a bit of humility and listened to that voice telling me he was trouble. I could’ve saved myself a lot of heartburn.”

  “You can’t think like that. Besides, I still say it’s possible something’s happened to him. You know, at the end of the day, I came to believe he was a good man.”

  Amelia scoffed. “Yeah, right. Good men always just fall off the grid like this.”

  “Let me make you some tea.” As Jennie stood up she noticed Mr. Ataria in the distance, carrying what appeared to be one of those orange and black for rent signs that hung in the windows of far too many storefronts in the neighborhood.

  “On second thought,” she said, grabbing Amelia’s hand and leading her out the back, “I hear the tea room has a new flavor. Let’s head over there now. It might give us a new perspective.”

  ****

  “Come on, please! I know you can hear me. I’m really suffering. I think I may have broken a bone. And my soul is in need of counsel….”

  Cupid stood next to the slot in the door where the monks slipped him a tray of green tea, fruit, and rice every morning and evening. Although there was no movement on the other side of the wall he was certain the young monk with the wide feet was standing next to the door; centuries of hunting with Mercury in the great forests of Europe and Canada had helped him develop the sensory acuity usually found only in animals.

  He’d had to wait a day and a half until he heard the monk’s fat feet pad along the rough ground, making sure to moan and curse about the state of his soul each time the man was on the other side of the door. Cupid was relatively certain that the man’s youth would make him more sympathetic to his plight.

  He was right. He heard the monk breathe heavily and then pause as he bent down with Cupid’s meal tray. He squared his shoulders and bent over so he could speak directly to the novice through the door slot.

  “Please. You have to help me. I know you’re a man of mercy and compassion.”

  Cupid held his breath as he heard the young monk shift from one heavy foot to the other. He thought about the man’s simple sandals, the strap on the right one pieced together with a length of twine. Hopefully that meant he was dealing with a simple man.

  The still air was cut by the sound of the heavy bolt sliding across the thick wooden door. Slowly a hand full of stubby fingers reached around its planks. The young man, a short fellow with his hair shaved close to his knobby head, appeared in the doorframe.

  “Thank you for coming to save me,” Cupid exclaimed.

  He’d moved over to the rush mat as soon as he’d heard the man reaching for the bolt. He lay still as the monk approached, pretending to flinch in pain. As the man knelt over him, Cupid threw his arm over the man’s shoulders and pulled him to the ground.

  In one quick move, he had the startled monk pinned beneath him. The young man’s round eyes grew even wider as Cupid pressed his knee onto his chest, to keep him from crying out, and tied his handkerchief and socks around the man’s mouth.

  Having gagged the novice, he reached for the tan length of cord the man wore as a belt around his brown robe and untied it. As the man watched him Cupid tied his hands and feet together.

  “I’m really sorry about this,” Cupid said as he reached the door. “As soon as I’m safely away, I promise I’ll send a messenger here to the monastery to alert them to rescue you. Can you breathe all right?”

  The man nodded slowly.

  “All right then. Thank you.”

  With that Cupid was gone, back into the heart of Kyoto, where Concordia found him devouring a plate of sashimi in his favorite sushi bar to compensate for his days without food, so he would have enough energy to plan his next move with Amelia.

  ****

  Dr. Franklin was waiting to speak with Amelia when she arrived at the hospital. “Ms. Coillard – Amelia – there’s something I want to speak to you about,” she said in a hushed tone.

  Amelia tilted her head to one side and appraised Dr. Franklin. The woman was about eight years older than her with a block of poorly tended hair that she clearly dyed herself, and too much blush. Like many of her father’s scientific colleagues, she had a no-nonsense air about her, with simple gold post earrings in the center of each lobe and a plain thin gold chain around her neck. At least she had a friendly, open face and an interesting job. Those would be pluses when she filled out her personality profile, Amelia said to herself.

  Amelia smiled encouragingly. She was used to prospective clients approaching her like this, making quiet, discreet inquiries about her business, although why anyone would feel any degree of embarrassment about using the services of a matchmaker still eluded her. If anything Amelia believed her clients responsibly demonstrated their commitment to a relationship.

  “Would you like to make an appointment?” Amelia asked.

  Dr. Franklin’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”

  “People are often shy about their desire to speak with us. But I assure you matchmaking has been part of the culture for thousands of years.”

  Dr. Franklin shook her head. “I’m afraid you’ve got it all wrong. I’m here to ask you to make an appointment to see me. I promised your father I’d speak with you. He’s extremely worried about something that’s weighing on his mind and, I think, impeding his recovery.”

  Amelia chewed her lip. “I’m doing all that I can. I’ve got a petition drive going, and calls in to the D.A. and the people at Fish and Wildlife. But somehow there’s this crazy notion out there that my father is out to create a new natural order.”

  “Amelia! That’s not what he’s concerned about. He’s very worried about how frail you’ve become. He talks about it non-stop.”

  “Me? Frail?”

  Dr. Franklin chuckled. “I guess his word choice shows Dr. Coillard really is old school. But I understand where he’s coming from. You do look a bit haggard if you’ll forgive my saying so.”

  “No, no, I understand what you mean. I don’t really look like myself. This situation with my father makes me nauseous. I swear ever since this began I’ve been waking up wanting to throw up every morning.”

  Dr. Franklin’s jaw dropped as she asked, “You’re throwing up every morning? I think you’d better get in to see me today.”

  Amelia replied, “All right.”

  “Here’s my office address.” Dr. Franklin said as she thrust a card into Amelia’s hand. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  ****

  Justin watched as Mr. Ataria affixed a large For Rent sign to the front door of Happily Ever After By Amelia. Before Mr. Ataria had walked five feet from the shop, Jennie had come running after him. She grabbed his sleeve then began throwing her arms around and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

  Although she was too far away for Justin to hear what she was saying, her shrill tone carried down the street. When she was done speaking, the old man shrugged his shoulders pointed at the sign and walked away. As soon as he was out of sight Justin saw Jennie remove the For Rent sign from the door and disappear inside the shop.

  She was sitting in the back room as he wandered up the alley several minutes later, her head in her hands. Justin could see through the window that her shoulders were shaking. He knocked on the glass.

  Jennie dragged the sleeve of her red and black leopard sweater across her face then looked up. When she saw Justin, she gave him a watery smile then crossed the wooden floor and opened the door. She stood to the side and motioned for him to enter.

  Justin walked past Jennie and sat down on the fuchsia leather stool Amelia had liberated from a pile of
discarded furniture on Laurel Canyon. Jennie sat down across from him.

  “Can I make you some tea? I’m sorry,” she said as she pointed at the pine sideboard, which now stood empty except for a dented red, white and blue plaid tin that had once held rows of shortbread, “but our cupboards are bare. No more offerings since we have no more business.”

  “How about if I make you some tea?” Justin asked. “It’s all over there, right?” He pointed at the painted cupboard in the corner.

  Jennie nodded. “Thanks. That would be nice.”

  She watched as Justin assembled tea bags, cups, saucers and the little plastic bear full of honey that Amelia always kept on hand. When the electric kettle boiled he filled their cups then sat down opposite Jennie. She looked at his friendly face then looked away.

  “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you,” she said quietly.

  Justin leaned forward. “Don’t worry about it. This current…situation I find myself in has given me a lot of time to think about the way I’ve dealt with people in my predicament in the past. Believe me I haven’t been so nice myself.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “It’s true. It wasn’t that long ago that I was treating people the same way. Only I think I was worse. I was smug, certain that somehow people who found themselves on the streets had some sort of inherent character defect that landed them there, instead of possibly a run of bad luck combined with incredibly poor timing. Course that’s not to say they’re aren’t some people out there that haven’t contributed in large part to their own downfalls.”

  Jennie looked into Justin’s clear eyes.

  “What happened?”

  “It all started about….”

  The staccato salsa beat of Jennie’s cell phone ring tone punctured the air. “Excuse me please.”

  “What?” Jennie practically yelled, her face contorting.

  “Oh no! I’ll be right over.”

  She stood as she snapped the phone shut. “That was Amelia’s mother. Her father’s doctor just called.”

  “Bad news?”

  “I’ve got to get over to the hospital. It’s Amelia they’re calling about.”

  “Go, go! Do you need me to do anything for you here?”

  Jennie scanned the room.

  “Yes. If you wouldn’t mind could you please make be sure none of Ataria’s potential future tenants help themselves to a walk-through in here? That’s all we need,” she said as she looked at the computer in the front room.

  “Someone to get a hold of Amelia’s computer programs.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll stay here until you get back. I’ll even answer the phone and clean up if you want. You just go.”

  Jennie opened her mouth as though to speak then closed it again.

  “Thanks a lot. I’ll see you when I get back,” She said a moment later.

  “Tell Amelia I hope she gets better quickly,” Justin said.

  “I will. And Justin,” Jennie looked at him and smiled, “thank you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “I’m really worried about Mom. She’s gone completely off the edge.”

  Cupid dropped another one of the California rolls the sushi chef had prepared especially for him into his mouth. He looked at Concordia and smirked. “You’re just noticing this now? After she burnt down that forest near Versailles in 1760, tried to have the planets realigned when she thought Pluto was stiffing her for a job and had me incarcerated for … how long was I in that monastery?”

  Concordia shrugged her shoulders.

  “I don’t know. Maybe ten days?”

  “A week and a half.” Cupid shook his head. “And I’d still be there if I hadn’t escaped.”

  He frowned. He was still troubled by the fact that he’d had to deceive the young monk who’d tried to help him. He hoped the man would not be scarred by his experience. “You left a message at the monastery and told them where to find him, right?”

  Concordia rolled her eyes.

  “Of course! I told you I would. I’m not out to crush the spirits of the world’s novitiates anymore than you are.”

  Cupid exhaled. “I’m gonna have to apologize to that guy.”

  “Cupid! You’re getting all side-tracked here.”

  “No, I’m not. You want me to agree Mother’s crazy. Like I’d say otherwise.”

  “Look, I think she had you imprisoned because she’s snapped. She’s got these completely paranoid ideas in her head.”

  Cupid cocked his head.

  “Oh yes,” Concordia said as she leaned forward. “Last time I talked to her she was sure some man and his daughter–some mortal, can you imagine – were conspiring to have her stripped of her powers. Or at least have her made redundant. I heard her muttering something to herself about some absurd grand plan that this man, he’s a research scientist by the way which shows she’s completely clueless, and his matchmaking daughter had to remake the world according to their own plan. She didn’t realize I’d overheard her … she’s adopted that weird habit of talking aloud to herself which just goes to….”

  Cupid slammed his cup of green tea down so hard some of the liquid slopped onto the rough table.

  “What?”

  Concordia looked at Cupid. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been listening.”

  “No, I have. But what was it you were saying about a scientist and a matchmaker?”

  “That’s right. You’ve been out of L.A. for a while so you wouldn’t know. The big story, practically the only story all week, has been about…well, you know those disrupted mating habits this spring?”

  Cupid’s mouth dropped open.

  “Disrupted mating habits? That’s impossible! I fixed that.”

  “Yeah well, whatever you did, it didn’t work.”

  Cupid winced. He realized he’d neglected to follow up with Inuus or even ascertain that his own arrows had met their targets. He’d been so smitten with Amelia and so concerned about her business that he’d forgotten all about Venus.

  “I can’t believe that. I’ve never missed in thousands of years.”

  “Well I guess there’s always a first.” Concordia shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, like I was saying people were looking for someone to blame for these weird changes in the environment so they honed in on this research scientist who was living with a bunch of animals behind these high stucco walls. Some of his neighbors, who struck me as a nasty lot, they were practically licking their lips in anticipation of seeing this guy taken down by the media, claimed he was hoarding pairs of animals. Although no one could say for sure that he had a male and female of each species.”

  “And his name is Gerard Coillard,” Cupid said glumly.

  Concordia’s mouth dropped open. She grabbed her brother by the shirt.

  “Are you playing a joke on me, claiming to be imprisoned when you weren’t?”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “Then how could you know this guy’s name if you haven’t been watching the news?”

  “It’s her father,” Cupid practically shouted. “That woman you saw me with, Amelia, she’s the matchmaker and the scientist is her father. I know that for a fact. Not only cause she told me about him but because I remember matching him with her mother.”

  Cupid threw a handful of yen onto the table and turned toward the door.

  “I’ve got to find Amelia. If Mom would imprison her own son, there’s no telling what she’d do to a mortal she thinks is out to get her.”

  ****

  “I can’t believe she did this to me.”

  Jennie looked up at Stella, startled. They were sitting on Jennie’s stone patio, sipping iced tea garnished with the fresh mint that grew in large painted pots that sat against the far wall of the enclosed outdoor living room. They’d just put Amelia to bed in the airy yellow guest room at the back of the house, where she’d finally settled into a fitful sleep.

  “What are you talking about Stella?”

  Amelia’s mothe
r pointed in the direction of the guest room.

  “I swear Jennie, she did it to spite me. Her business is failing, and she knows I’m up for some major roles. She just can’t stand the thought that I could be a success so she’s gone ahead and done this.”

  “I am one hundred percent certain that seeking some sort of vengeance against you is not why Amelia’s pregnant.”

  Stella pulled one of her long hand rolled clove cigarettes from the tiny turquoise faux snakeskin bag in her lap and lit it with a rhinestone encrusted lighter.

  “You don’t know her like I do Jennie.”

  Stella blew a smoke ring with her plastic lips. She leaned forward and studied Jennie’s face.