Indelible Love - Emily's Story

by D. W. Cee

  Jane was next on the list. She, too, was elated to hear that Jake and I were back together and added to the growing threat on Jake as we put her on speakerphone.

  “Jake? Don’t screw up this time, okay?”

  “I won’t. I’m not letting go of Emily ever again.” He gazed over at me while talking to his sister.

  Our entire make-up story was rehashed in under two minutes but more importantly I also told Jane how much I missed her. She was the one person besides Jake I most wanted to see.

  “When are you coming home, Jane? When can we see each other?”

  “I got a job so Manhattan is my home for a while – maybe Thanksgiving at the earliest.”

  “Jane...” I whined. “Hey, do you want to meet us in Paris?” I thought this was a fantastic idea.

  “No way!” Jake yelled at the both of us.

  Shocked, I stared at him and Jane laughed.

  “Why don’t you come see me?” she suggested.

  I looked at Jake hoping he would let me go see her. Neither one of us would want to be apart from each other but Jane was the sister I never had.

  “Can I go visit Jane?” I asked cautiously.

  “If she promises not to tag along in Paris,” he huffed.

  A sour look shrouded my once happy face. Jake softened and offered an alternative. “Why don’t we stop by New York after Paris? We can hang with her a few days and then come home.”

  “Can we really do that?” I asked with excitement.

  “Emi, it’s your world. We can do whatever you like.”

  “Jane, I’ll call you from Paris and let you know exactly when we’re coming. Call Nick and have him join us as well.”

  “You sound more excited to meet up with my siblings in New York than to meet me in Paris.” Jake was pouting again.

  “Emily, you better go. Call me later.” Jane knew her brother only too well. She probably had a mental picture of his arms crossed and lips protruding like a five year old. I turned towards my love, grabbed his face and kissed him numerous times till I got a smile out of him. His dimpled smile returned only to be vexed again as it was time to call Max.

  “Hi Max. It’s me Em.”

  “I can tell by the tone of your voice that Jake is right there next to you?”

  “You know me too well.” I smiled. “Thank you, Max. You are wonderful to help me find Jake again.”

  “I’m happy knowing you’re happy. I love you, Em. My debt is paid.”

  Jake took the phone and talked to Max while I pondered my good fortune of having in the present and the past, two wonderful men who taught me to love. They both continued to watch over me.

  “Call Gram for me, I want to talk to her,” asking enthusiastically I handed the phone to Jake.

  He did as I asked and handed the phone back to me.

  “Hi Gram!” I started crying again. “How are you? I’m so glad to be talking to you again. I’ve missed you.”

  “Emily. Don’t cry. I’ve missed you too. I was very worried when Jake couldn’t find you. Hallelujah! This madness is finally over. Is Jake being good to you?”

  “Oh, Gram, he’s been a dream. I’m sorry we worried you. We won’t ever do that to you again.”

  “Are you going to marry my grandson now?”

  “Definitely, Gram! If he asks again I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

  “Emily, come to London. Let me finally meet you.” Her tone, welcoming, I knew I would love her like my own grandmother. “Let me talk to Jake and we’ll arrange a visit.”

  Our last phone call was to Sandy and Bobby and they were thrilled to hear I would come live with them till the end of summer. Sandy promised to have the guest room ready before we got back from Paris. Jake told them not to bother as he was sure I wouldn’t be sleeping there.

  Without having eaten much all day, our empty stomachs caught up with us. We walked towards the nearest street vendor.

  “By the way, didn’t you say that you were waiting for someone back at the restaurant? You made it sound like you were seeing someone already. What was that all about?” Jake questioned. I thought we were done hashing out all of our misunderstandings - apparently not.

  “Yes, I said I was waiting for someone but I never said I was seeing anyone.” My ambiguous answer didn’t sit well with Jake.

  “What does that mean?” I loved that his child-like tone surfaced whenever he didn’t get his way. “Have you dated anyone since you got here? Have other men asked you out? If so, how many?

  I chose to keep mum. I shut my lips and formed a flat horizontal smile while eating my udon noodles.

  “Emi, aren’t you going to answer?” His voice grew impatient while he placed his hands all over my body and tickled me. I laughed, choked on my noodles, and promised to answer without a fight.

  “You play dirty,” I accused while giving him an evil eye.

  “You, no, yes, and many.”

  Jake took my answers and dropped them at the end of each of his questions. He looked upset again.

  “I don’t understand the first answer.”

  Staring at him I asked, “Are you really as smart as everyone says you are? You asked me who I was waiting for. I was waiting for YOU. I’ve been waiting for you since you left me last Christmas. Do you get it now?”

  “Oh! I get it.” He smiled again till he thought through my other answers.

  “What do you mean many men have asked you on dates? How many single men could live on that tiny village of yours? And why would they ask you out? Didn’t you tell them you were taken?”

  “Why on earth would I tell them that? There’s no ring on my finger that says I’m taken. And, I didn’t stay in the village the whole time. I traveled throughout Japan. You’re not the only man to find me attractive.”

  Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out my beautiful ring. Oh how I had missed that ring. He slowly drew out my left hand and my heart jumped a-flutter.

  He was going to propose again!

  I definitely knew what my answer would be this time. Jake slid the eternity band on my ring finger and I basked in this tender moment.

  To my utter dismay, rather than proposing, he handed me a stern warning. “I don’t ever want to see you take this ring off unless I replace with another one, okay?”

  “Alright…” My lips pouted and my answer sounded sore.

  Jake mused at my chagrin. “What’s wrong? Were you expecting something else? Do you not like this ring?”

  What could I say? No, I like this ring but I'd like a proposal along with it?

  “I love this ring,” was all that came out of my mouth.

  Night fell upon us and we walked hand in hand back to the hotel.

  “Where’s your suitcase?” I inquired.

  “They’re holding it for me here. I haven’t had a chance to check in yet.”

  “Why don’t you have them bring up your stuff up to my room?” I didn’t have to look in a mirror to know my cheeks had turned bright red. I also didn’t have to look at Jake to know his stunned face quickly changed to nirvana. He practically sprinted up to my room.

  Walking in Jake quickly surveyed the double bed. Heaven to hell in sixty seconds, he threw up a prayer. “Love, I’ve been apart from you for too long to be satisfied sleeping in a bed next to yours.”

  “Would it satisfy you to sleep in a bed… with me?” I asked sheepishly.”

  I’d never seen Jake so happy!

  We said a quick and sweet goodbye in Kyoto as we both had to leave for our respective jobs. It pained me to leave him again. I made up twenty different excuses as to why I wanted to go back with him. Every excuse pointed to the fact that we would be apart only twelve days. Then, we would have many joyful days together.

  “I don’t want you to go. It feels like a dream to be back together with you. I don’t want to say goodbye anymore.”

  “Love, it’s only for twelve days. We’ll see each other soon. After that, we don’t ever have to say goodbye. Make sure
you log onto your computer at 9:00pm your time. That will serve as a substitute until Paris.

  “Okay.” I pouted some more. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Me, too, my love. Me too.”

  I left him standing at the station knowing that we would soon be together again and if God was kind to us, we would never have to say goodbye.

  Chapter 17 A Proposal in Paris

  The plane thumped onto the Charles de Gaulle Airport runway and my heart thumped along with it. Finally, we would reunite. Customs would not be a problem as I brought only one carry-on suitcase barely filled with clothes and toiletries. Jake arrived earlier this morning and probably already checked into the hotel. What our sleeping arrangements would be like made me curious after what had happened our last night together. It would be an awful waste of money to get two rooms, but I knew that if we only had one room, I would not be able to resist him. We’d been apart for too long. My body now longed for him almost as much as my heart did. My will power would crumble. I would let him chose what he thought best for us and I would not fight his decision.

  Walking out of customs, I saw the love of my life smiling with his arms wide open. I ran into his arms and hugged him like I hadn’t seen him in years. These twelve days felt longer than the five months we were separated. Even with the webcam, I missed him very much. How different it was to feel his secure arms around me.

  “Hello, my love. Did you have a good flight over here?” Jake asked.

  I looked up at him and responded by pressing my lips against his. I kissed him more longingly than I had ever done. My body desired his touch, his warmth, his passion. Jake appeared to be a bit taken aback, more befuddled than anything else. I’d never displayed such inappropriate public display of affection. His kiss grew more sensuous as he realized how much I wanted him and our embrace continued. I didn’t care that onlookers were gawking. All I wanted was to love Jake.

  It was Jake who pulled away for the first time. Caressing the back of my head he chuckled, “maybe I can undo the second room?”

  I didn’t quite understand what he was saying but I held his hand out of the airport to a huge limousine that awaited us.

  “This is not our car is it? You got us a driver, too?” I seriously hoped not.

  “Yes, it is and yes, I did.” Jake declared.

  “You have got to be kidding me. We cannot ride around Paris in this limo. How embarrassing. We’re not rock stars,” I complained.

  “Get in” he said rolling his eyes.

  We got to the Hotel Ritz and opulent was the only word I could think to describe this hotel. Located on the Place Vendome, in the first arrondissement, Hotel Ritz was surrounded by haute couture. Stores like Christian Dior, Chanel, and Bulgari, surrounded this architectural jewel commissioned by Louis XIV. If I remembered correctly from my last trip here, Palaise de l'Elysee, where the French President resides, was nearby as well as the Louvre and Jardin des Tuileries. There was only one way in to this exclusive square and one way out. This was definitely not the kind of place Sarah and I had stayed in when we were in Europe.

  Extravagant and unnecessary, but a nice way to travel, I had to admit.

  Jake had already checked us in and took me up to my room. With a mixture of relief and disappointment, we had two adjoining rooms. Waiting for me in my room was a bathtub filled with rose petals with lavender scented candles lit all around it. Water fell from the mouth of a gold swan as Jake added more hot water to my bath.

  “Why don’t you unwind a bit and we’ll start our trip after your bath,” he offered.

  “Thank you, Jake. You know, you’re spoiling me. I can really get used to this,” I answered in a dreamy way.

  A girl could really get used to living in such luxury with the man of her dreams.

  “It can all be yours if you like, my love. No one is stopping you.”

  While I thought about those words, Jake started towards the door.

  “Where are you going?” I asked waking from my thoughts.

  “Um, out to give you some privacy. Do you want me to stay?” he mused.

  Tempted, but resisting the urge I asked, “No, I mean where will you be while I’m taking a bath?”

  “I need to stop by Boucheron. I’ll be right back.”

  “What is Boucheron?”

  “It’s a jewelry shop,” he said quickly shutting the door behind him.

  Jewelry shop? Why would he be going to a jewelry shop? Maybe he was going to propose to me in Paris? I could only dream but we had just gotten back together. It was too soon to dream. Having been so adamant about marriage being too soon for us, I probably scared him off that idea. A proposal – no, two proposals – was what separated us to begin with. I wanted to shoot myself for turning down his proposal the first time.

  We would’ve been engaged or even married by now. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Emily, you can be so stupid! But… a jewelry shop? Why? Naw… He already has an engagement ring for me; he wouldn’t be going there for that purpose. Great! He’s got me all wound up when this bath was supposed to relax me.

  The tension only got worse so with a quick hot shower, Jake’s favorite yellow sundress and a little make up on the face, I was ready for the day. Comfortable in this lap of luxury, I started flipping through French TV and patiently waited for Jake.

  Within minutes of turning on the TV, I heard the door be-beep and in walked Jake with a crepe and a cup of coffee.

  “Where did you get this? There couldn’t be a crepe vendor in this tony neighborhood.”

  “I stopped by the boulangerie.”

  “Thank you. I was getting hungry.”

  He smiled and handed me my snack.

  “Emily, tell me some of the things you want to do in Paris. We can go out of Paris as well if you like. Give me your list.”

  “Well, last time I was here, I never got to go to the Bastille opera house or Palais Garnier and watch an opera. I’d love to do that this time.”

  “You’ve been here before? It’s not your first time?”

  “Sarah and I were in Europe for a month after undergrad. I assume you have been here many times before?” I knew this was an obvious question as I couldn’t imagine the Reids not having traveled to France.

  “My mom loves Paris. When we were younger, we used to stay at the Ritz every spring for a month. After we started school, we came during the summer time. Since I was little, they’ve had the same hotel manager here. I’ll introduce you to him when we go to the Escoffier school.”

  Jake spoke beautiful French to the driver as well as the hotel staff when we first arrived. It only made sense that he lived and perfected his French here.

  “Anything else you want to do? I promised you that this week would be your world. Whatever you like, I’ll oblige.”

  “There’s not too much else. You know, the usual... the Louvre, Musee d’Orsay, maybe a flea market. You’re the expert in this city. You lead, I’ll follow.”

  “I like this attitude,” he answered, pleased. “I’ll have the concierge send a list of what’s playing. Right now, we need to go downstairs. We have an appointment with the chef."

  My questions ceased and as promised, I followed his lead. There was one thing that made me pause. It surprised me that Jake hadn’t touched me since I got to Paris. Aside from my attack at the airport, we hadn’t embraced. He had been tame for his standards. It made me curious, as well as a bit nervous.

  We met Francois Garcon, the General Manager of Hotel Ritz at the Escoffier school. It looked to be a cooking school of some sort but I thought I’d wait for an explanation before asking any questions.

  “Bonjour, Monsieur Reid. Ca va?”

  “Oui, ca va, Francois.”

  “Bonjour, Madamoiselle” Francois said turning to me, “Je suis Francois, le directeur de l’hotel. C’est un plaisir de vous rencontrer.”

  I decided to use my decrepit French and tell Francois that I too was happy to make his acquaintance. “Bonjour, Je suis Emily Logan. Il est tr
ès agréable de vous rencontrer aussi,” I proudly uttered.

  “Ah, vous parlez Francaises?” Francois asked.

  “You speak French?” Jake asked quite surprised.

  “Oui, je parle un peu.”

  Telling Francois and Jake that I spoke a little was about the extent of our conversation in French. I couldn’t keep up with the two of them as they conversed the entire time in French. Here and there Jake would break the flow of his conversation and ask me what kind of lesson I would prefer. My choices were basic French cooking, pastry making and even flower arranging. I chose to work with the chef de pâtisserie and learn dessert.

  We spent four hours making French baguettes from scratch, croissant, creme brulee, strawberry savarin, mocha pot de creme, apple tarte tatin, lemon souffle, crepes and even profiteroles. I was so in my element in the kitchen. I loved it and Jake enjoyed watching me have fun. What was even better than making the desserts was of course eating them. The school set up a table for us in the kitchen and we ate every dessert we made. The pastry chef packed up what we did not finish and we walked out to the square hoping to relieve our distended stomach.

  We walked quietly, hand in hand towards the Tuileries Garden.

  Jake turned to me and asked, “What are you thinking right now?”

  “I was thinking that our private lesson at the Escoffier was about the coolest thing I’ve ever done in my life!”

  “You liked it that much?” Jake seemed quite surprised that a cooking school would make such an impression on me.

  “If life would have turned out differently for me when I was younger, I probably would’ve gone to cooking school after undergrad. I feel most comfortable in a kitchen. Maybe one day when I’m retired, I'll enroll in a cooking school just for fun. Thanks to you, I’ve checked off another thing I’ve always wanted to do. Thank you.”

  Jake stopped walking and turned to look at me. I saw that same sadness in his eyes again. He was imaging what my life must have been like after I lost my parents. He stroked my cheeks with the back of his two fingers and lovingly gazed into my eyes. At first I was uncomfortable standing so still in the middle of a busy street. But with the touch of his lips I knew that Jake would make up for me the life that he thought I’d missed.