Gastien Pt 1

by Caddy Rowland

  Never did he take anyone home to his room. He was too ashamed of it. When women asked to come home with him they were turned down flat.

  What did frustrate and irritate him about the sexual situations was that many times the women wanted to give him gifts, thinking that they could buy his time or loyalty. He was not a gigolo! Gastien always refused any offers of gifts or money. He made it very clear that he was not “owned” or “property” in any way. Either they wanted sex with him or they didn’t. If he wanted more than a onetime experience, he would say so when they asked again. Seldom would he go to bed with someone more than two or three times. He did not want their emotions getting involved. As for his, he doubted he would ever care again. It just felt good to have the release of sex.

  During these months, most of his off time was spent painting, since at last he had space in his room to do it. It was warm enough to have a window open in order to keep the smell from becoming overpowering. The fumes did not reach the other renters. Even if they had, most of them were drunk or passed out anyway.

  Oh, what paintings he did! Gastien was becoming a better and better painter. He started experimenting with shape, color and texture. These things he only worked on some of the time, because they would not sell and he needed to make money. But shape, color, and texture were where his heart was. He could do things with paints that people had not seen yet. The paintings were crying to get out of his head and onto the canvas. He needed his own studio, his own hours!

  Gastien and Mic had written back and forth a few times. Mic was aware of what happened. He missed Mic terribly. He missed Nath, and Emma, too. He now realized how very lucky he really had been to have the room at Emma’s.

  It was a sad period for Gastien. Then, in July, he got a notice that rent was doubling in September. He was at a loss as to what he was going to do. Stunned, Gastien wondered, how in the world does that man think this hellhole is worth twice what he is already gouging me for? Unfortunately, he heard through the grapevine at work that the same thing was happening all over. As all of Paris got “restructured” and old buildings demolished, landlords were out to get as much as they could before the buildings came down. Now, not only did he have to worry about the rent increase, he also wondered where he would live when the building came down! One thing that would be guaranteed was that the new buildings would not rent cheap. The bourgeois and the gentry were pushing out the poor, making sure they could not come back.

  XLV

  Gastien went to work that night feeling like there was no way out. He was very quickly running out of options. The nightmare had been so intense this morning that he had gotten little sleep. Exhaustion ate at him. As he worked, he noticed that a couple had come in asking for his section again. They were coming in frequently lately. The man reminded Gastien of a bird of prey. He had a hawk like nose, and penetrating eyes. The man definitely exuded power. There was no doubt he was in charge of any situation he found himself in.

  And his wife! Mon Dieu, what a woman! Gastien always had to concentrate very hard so as not to get an erection while waiting on them. She was breathtaking. The woman was blonde, which one did not see often, with the most vivid blue eyes Gastien had ever seen. Those eyes were fringed with long, dark lashes that gave Gastien’s lashes some heavy competition. She had never indicated she was interested in an interlude with him, though. That was rare. He wondered if for some reason she did not find him attractive. He had plenty of others to choose from, but, still…it irked him.

  Other waiters told him the man was incredibly wealthy with large dealings in both banking and real estate. They said he lived on a huge estate that was so grand that it even had peacocks roaming the gardens! What some people waste their money on, he thought. Here in the streets are people not eating and this man has peacocks walking around. Just let one of the homeless people have ten minutes on that property, he thought cynically, good use would be made of those peacocks then! However, the couple was actually very nice to him. He guessed they must really appreciate the service he gave them.

  Gastien approached the table. “Good evening, Monsieur and Madame. What a pleasure it is to see you again! Do you want the usual before dinner wine?”

  “Oui, please, but allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jean Luc. Turning to his wife, Jean Luc continued, “This is my beautiful wife, Annah. You are Gastien, I believe?”

  Gastien was taken aback. No one asked a waiter’s name. “Oui. The pleasure is mine. You don’t have to remember my name. I am here to serve you, not take up your time. Please allow me to get your wine, Jean Luc.”

  “Quite the contrary. Both of us are very interested in you. We have been coming back for the last several weeks to admire your paintings. You are quite skilled!” the man said kindly.

  Gastien was pleased. “Merci beaucoup. I live to paint, Jean Luc.”

  “So I have heard from the other waiters. They say you spend most of your free time painting. They also say that you have done work for others at their homes during days off.”

  Gastien was suddenly hopeful. Perhaps this man would hire him for a couple of days! “Oui. I come to their homes to paint portraits.”

  “How grand! I have a proposition for you, Gastien. I want to hire an artist to paint several portraits. I want one of my wife, one of each of my two daughters, one of me and then a family portrait. I want them quite large. I would like that artist to be you.”

  “Monsieur that is wonderful!” Gastien cried. Then he sobered. “That will take forever, because I only have Sundays and Mondays off!”

  Jean Luc laughed softly. “I don’t want you for just a couple days at a time, Gastien. I want you to live on my estate for as long as it takes. I would think that we could use your services for at least a year.”

  Gastien was dumbfounded. Could he possibly be this lucky? He just stood there staring at the man. Finally Jean Luc spoke. “I understand your hesitation. You probably have a home. Rest assured, we have a nice cottage for you to stay in, meals will be provided – which you will find ample and delicious – and we will pay you, of course. You can still have two days off a week. You will also have the use of my carriage driver to take you anywhere in Paris that you need to go during those days. If you want to go out at night, you will need to hire a cabriolet. Simply submit a bill for reimbursement.“ He stopped, looking concerned. “Unless, of course, you are committed to some others already.”

  “Non, I am not. As you are probably aware, portrait painting can sometimes be slow. I am very interested in your offer. In fact, I am very pleased. I do have to say, however, that I would need to give my boss ample notice that I am leaving. He values me very much. I would want to help train someone in.” Gastien tried to act calm like this happened to him all the time. But inside he wanted to do a tango across the dining room floor!

  “Oh, understandably. I appreciate a man with honor. That is good.” Jean Luc took out an appointment book. “How about the first of September for a start date? That will give my wife and daughters a full month to shop for fineries. Like typical women, no matter how many dresses they have to wear, they are always in need when an occasion arises. I imagine their clothes for these portraits will set me back worse than your pay and board!” All of them laughed.

  “September 1st would be perfect, Jean Luc,” beamed Gastien. “Do you want to bring a contract by?”

  Jean Luc’s eyes widened. “This man is sharp! A contract, he says! Certainly, young Gastien, we will put it in writing, calming your fears. You are a man after my heart. Perhaps I should hire you for one of my banks instead of as a painter!”

  “I just want to protect myself, Monsieur. I hope I did not offend you,” said Gastien candidly.

  “No offense taken. Now, what days do you have off currently? Or are there others you would like off?”

  “Sunday and Monday, currently. I would appreciate keeping those. Many of my artist friends are servers in the area and have those days off, too.”

  They agreed upon a mon
thly amount for one year. Gastien was thrilled. It would not get him a studio by any means and would be gone quickly once he had to pay rent again, but for the next year at least, he was safe. Then Jean Luc asked him about supplies, telling Gastien to make a list of everything he would need. “I want you to give me a thorough list, down to the brands you prefer. I will have someone purchase everything and bring it to the cottage. Everything you need should be there when you arrive.”

  “That is very thoughtful of you, Jean Luc. Merci. I will make out the list tonight.”

  “And, Gastien, if you don’t like the cottage, or somehow feel I have misrepresented the agreement, we will tear up the contract. My wife and I want you to be happy while you are with us. You should feel like the cottage can be your home the minute you walk in.”

  Gastien laughed. “I am sure it won’t be a problem. As long as there is good light, an artist is happy!” Mon Dieu! If you could see the hellhole I live in now, he thought.

  He talked to Maurice that night. Maurice was very sorry to hear that Gastien was leaving. “You have been my best server, Gastien. I have grown to care very much about you. Mon Dieu, I will miss you!” Maurice then got out a bottle of vin. “Sit down with me, dear Gastien. I always knew this day would come. You have a nice year ahead of you, doing what you love! Let’s have a toast.”

  They sat talking about the past year, the ordeals and now the excitement for Gastien. Maurice generously told Gastien he could leave his paintings up in the restaurant to perhaps get future business or make a few sales. “Unfortunately, I can’t guarantee you a job when you return. I will have to hire someone else, and it would be unfair to dismiss him if you wanted to come back. I would love to have you back if there was an opening, but you must understand there probably won’t be one,” Maurice warned.

  “Oui. I understand. I appreciate you saying you will take me back if there is an opening. I know it is hard to get really good waiters. By the way, if you hire someone soon enough, I would be glad to work extra to train him.”

  “That is good of you. I may take you up on that. Let’s see who we get, first. Since I want experience, it may not be necessary. We might just put him on at slower times until he is used to things.”

  They had one more glass of vin. “Maurice,” said Gastien, “I better go. I need to make out a list for Jean Luc. Then I need to get to bed, because I want to paint all day tomorrow. Merci beaucoup for the drinks and for being so understanding.”

  “No problem. You know, when you walked out to wait on my wife and I there was no way I thought I would be hiring you. I thought you had no chance of success as a server. You sure surprised me. Things have been hard for you lately. You deserve a bit of luck.” They hugged.

  “See you tomorrow night, Maurice.”

  “Oui, see you tomorrow.”

  The rest of July went quickly, as summer has a habit of doing. Even August was half over. Jean Luc had been in a couple of times finalizing things. The other restaurant staff teased Gastien about the opportunity to sleep with Jean Luc’s beautiful wife, but Gastien knew better than to do anything like that. He was not going to jeopardize employment with Jean Luc.

  XLVI

  Gastien’s last day at Le Procope was on the 27th. When the day arrived, it was bittersweet. Much hugging and many slaps on the back were given at the end of his shift. He had lunch the next day with Maurice to say goodbye. Maurice handed Gastien an envelope.

  “This came for you just today. If you like, you can continue to have correspondence forwarded here, since you will be coming into the area frequently.” Gastien had planned on that and knew that Mic, Father Fournier and Nath had the address. Gastien reached out for the letter. There was no return on it. He had a feeling it was from Nath, though. The envelope was very elegant and it was about time for the baby to have been born.

  “Merci, Maurice. I appreciate it.” He tucked the letter into a pocket. He would wait until he was alone to read it.

  After relaxing for awhile after lunch, Gastien stood to leave. “I appreciate all you did for me, Maurice. You will never know how much it meant to me to have this job,” Gastien said soberly.

  “Actually, I think I do, Gastien. You were pretty hard up. I am glad it worked out.” They embraced once more before Gastien left.

  When he got back to his room, he looked around. The room did not bother him nearly so much now that he was leaving in a few days! Sitting on the bed, he carefully opened the envelope. He would keep this letter in his bank box, which had no money right now, but held the ring and the pocket watch of the gentleman who had died in the alley. The ring fit Gastien perfectly. He planned on always wearing it once he got to Montmartre, in remembrance of that man. The watch he simply kept out of respect.

  As he tilted the envelope, a photo fell out onto his lap. Staring up at him was a picture of his newborn baby daughter. Of course, he did not know if it was a girl or a boy until he read the letter. He stopped to hold up the photo. It was so small! He knew babies were small, of course, he had seen plenty of them at home. Regardless, it was hard to believe that he had made this one. How strange that a sex act could produce something separate from you, yet part of you. The baby looked like a typical newborn. Gastien smiled. He would have loved to have held it just once. Sighing, he then proceeded to unfold the letter.

  “Dearest Gastien,

  As you can see, our daughter has made her appearance. Her name is Giselle. That is the closest I could come to Gastien without being obvious. She was born on the fifth of August and weighed 6 lbs, 2 oz. They tell me the delivery was easy. It only took six hours. To me, those six hours could not go fast enough! Babies can take many, many more hours than that, though, so I am thankful.

  Gastien, she is beautiful! I was not sure if I was ready to be a mother. Then, I looked at her! My heart had never known such a pure, protective love until that instant. She is my world. Merci Beaucoup for her! She has blue eyes like every baby, but they are very dark. Something tells me she will have huge, brown eyes. She has dark hair, of course, and your mouth! She is also as demanding as you, wanting her milk even more often than you wanted sex!

  On a serious note, Elliot also thinks the world of her. I was worried that perhaps he would never quite bond with the baby when it came, since it was not his. To my relief, he is over the moon about her. She will be so spoiled that I pity any man who will think himself of strong enough character to be her husband.

  Elliot and I are actually getting along quite nicely. We were always very fond of one another. We have found that we have a lot of common interests. It is not as dreary as I feared, planning entertainment for his business dinners and our social gatherings. I have always loved a good party! I bet it will not surprise you that I seem to have a knack for planning parties that people talk about for weeks.

  Gastien, I do miss you terribly. I want you to know that I think of you often. Not a day goes by that I don’t. I wish I could have both you and Elliott. Right now things are going well. We are reasonably happy, in fact much more that I could have imagined.

  I can’t see messing myself up emotionally by seeing you. As I said, who knows what the future will bring. It would have to be with Elliott’s blessing. I will not sneak around on him. I know many people do carry on affairs. I am not saying I am above that, nor is he. It is just different with you. You are more than an affair according to my heart. Right now I can’t handle any additional pain in that regard.

  Please do write to me and let me know what you are up to. Don’t censor your letters! I want all of the sordid details, and all of the gossip! You will find my address enclosed on my calling card. I have decided that I can write to you regularly, so do expect a reply at some point every time that you write. I know that you probably won’t write often, in fact you may have already gotten over me, but I would love to hear from you.

  I love you, Gastien. I always will.

  Nath”

  Gastien sat for a long time, holding the letter. His mind was full of me
mories of how Nath looked when they danced, when she laughed, when they shared secrets, when they had sex. Was that love? He guessed not in the sense she meant, but he sure did miss her. She was a wonderful, wonderful woman. He would write to her within a week, once he got settled in his new place.

  The next morning he copied down the address and put it in with his art supplies, so that he would have it when he moved. Next, he went to the bank. He looked again at the photo of his child for quite some time. Then, he read the letter twice more. He placed both in the bank box and locked it. He quickly turned and left. If anyone noticed his eyes were wet, he could say it was due to the brisk wind outside that day.

  When he painted that afternoon there was extra passion and sadness in his work. His canvas was covered with dark colors and texture, creating a very stormy look. After a few hours, the sadness finally passed. After all, he was starting a new life in just a couple of days. Best of all, it was on a direct path to the life he eventually wanted for himself. If he did a good job for Jean Luc, the referrals would be fabulous.

  XLVII

  A lot of Gastien’s friends were throwing him a party that night. He did not know why, since he would still be around on his days off, but then again, they were always looking for a reason to party.

  Party was definitely the word for it that night! Young men have always been hard partiers, creative types even more so. Gastien drank lots of whiskey, becoming quite drunk. Someone produced some hashish later, making sure Gastien smoked his share of that. Still, he could not get those green eyes out of his mind. He was having a great time, but he was haunted. I know what I need, he thought. I need to go to the afterhours club Nath and I hung out at. A few tangos with some sexy looking rich women will erase those green eyes for while.