The First Love

by Erinne Bates

  “I’m starting to worry I will turn into a pumpkin later,” I said back, covering her hand on my arm, “This whole thing feels so magical.”

  “I want to show you something,” Justine said, leading me away from the room where most of the guests were socializing. In another room, she stopped in front of a painting of a woman upon a French meridienne style sofa.

  “Madame Récamier, famous French socialite of the eighteen hundreds,” she said.

  “It’s lovely.” I watched Justine as she studied the painting. Her hand returned to the inside of my arm. “It seems empty in the background. Was that on purpose?” I asked.

  “It’s unfinished. Or so it’s been speculated.”

  “It’s like she’s far away,” I said. I started to step forward as if being closer to the painting would allow me to get a better look at the details of her face, but Justine’s hand stopped me with noticeable force.

  “It’s not about her. It’s about delicate elegance of femininity,” her fingers slid from my elbow down the inside of my arm and slipped between my fingers. “She was the woman artists, writers, and poets of that time literally fell in love with.” She then tilted her head so that she spoke directly in my ear, “Gautier wrote of her as an indescribable attraction.”

  My heart started to race at her voice so close to my ear. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  “The rise and fall of your chest as you breathe right now is very sensual,” Her lips touched my ear, causing goosebumps to flash across my neck. “I wish you would undo the top button of your jacket.”

  “Are you trying to seduce me, Jus—”

  “Justine Rousseau! I just knew I would see you here!” Justine’s hand slid quietly out of mine as we both turned to face one of the ladies from the local Arts Council.

  “Amy Abernathy, how lovely to see you,” The two women exchanged kisses and small talk, while I walked around to view some of the other paintings nearby. I made sure to stay where Justine could see me without having to noticeably look around. When Amy’s husband arrived, Justine cut her eyes toward me. I unfastened the top button of my jacket and flexed my shoulders quickly so that the jacket opened where the button had been loosed. The corners of Justine’s mouth turned up slightly as her eyes turned back toward her friends. I wandered around on my own, gazing at the world’s most famous paintings. My thoughts turned to Fenne, and all the attention she paid to the tiniest details. I would have loved to have roamed the halls and galleries of the Louvre with her and listened to her elucidations of each painting. Pretending to study a sculpture, I wondered instead what Fenne was doing at that very moment.

  After lunch was served, Justine and I walked through the different rooms.

  “Are you having a good time?” Justine asked as she presented two fresh glasses of champagne.

  “I am having an exceptional time.”

  “That’s good. Because I want you to feel like this is all for you.”

  I blushed when she spoke those words. Justine always had a way of making me feel as though I was the center of her world, just as she did with anyone else who had the good fortune to be in her company. It was her gift, her charm, and her elixir. After all the years that had passed between us, she could still draw my focus away from anything – and anyone. I believed, anyway.

  “Thank you for making all this happen. You went to a lot of effort to dress me up and take me out,” I said, placing my hand on her back to guide her as we passed another couple in a narrow corridor.

  “I still can’t believe you are here,” Justine stopped and made me look her in the eyes. “I have to confess I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  Strangely, I didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t that those words weren’t the type of words I loved to hear – after all the years of longing and wondering what could have been. Up until I heard them, I was positive I wanted to hear that she couldn’t stop thinking of me, but when face to face with them, I couldn’t tell her that I felt the same. Her husband’s face flashed in my mind. Fenne’s hurt eyes were next. I blinked hard to block thoughts of Fenne from surfacing.

  “Sorry,” Justine said, sensing my unease, “I shouldn’t say such things.”

  “Why has everything always been so fucking difficult with you?” I demanded in a whisper as my eyes watered. Justine looked at me, stunned by the sudden change of my mood, then slipped her hand in my arm and urged me through the next room toward the beginning of another corridor. There was a sign that read “Employees only” blocking the hall but we breezed past it. The lights in the hall were dimmed and we walked in a few feet to give ourselves some privacy. I pulled away from her in order to gather my thoughts.

  “I know this isn’t easy, alright?” she said trying to make eye contact with me. “I know this is not what you want, but this is all we have. It’s all we ever had.”

  “Why didn’t it work for us, huh?” My voice sounded tight. I could feel myself trembling. I desperately begged her in my mind to say something – anything – that would slow my reeling emotions. Her mouth opened, but she stood there for a moment without saying a word.

  “I’ve always lo—”

  “No!” I stopped her. “Please don’t say that right now.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Calli.” Her eyes earnestly sought mine.

  “For twenty years you have fucking pervaded my life! You are in most of my fucking thoughts, my fucking psyche, my fucking choices – no matter who I am with or what I do – you are always there, Justine”—I pressed the palms of my hands to my temples—“but what you have never been, is with me.”

  Justine touched my raised forearm as I began to calm down. “I’m always with y—”

  “It’s not true,” I said, my voice cracking. I leaned against the wall and wiped my eyes. Justine handed me a tissue from her purse.

  “Calli…” she said softly, pushing a strand of my hair away from my face. “I’ve been bound to you as I think you have been to me. And I know that your love for me is as real as mine is for you. But you have to know, I am where I want to be.”

  For a moment the air became so thin I couldn’t inhale it, but as quickly as her words were spoken they made sense. I exhaled, closing my eyes to let them fully sink in. I could never have given her what she truly wanted.

  “Ian,” I said, barely audibly. Justine nodded as her arms wrapped around me and then mine around her. I thought to argue all the ways we could have had our own family, but I knew it was pointless. And… I knew I could accept her reason without needing more.

  I felt her lips on my neck as her fingers found mine, pinning me gently to the wall. I gave a small laugh and started to squirm away but I was always powerless to her touch.

  “This here-“ she breathed into my ear, “- is something I have never had with anyone else. Ever.”

  “I’m not sure this is a good place-“ her mouth was on mine before I could finish.

  “Justine?”

  We both looked toward the direction of the voice to find her friend, Amy, standing near the sign that designated the path beyond it was for employees only.

  “Is everything ok?” she asked apprehensively. I wasn’t sure how well she could see into the darkened corridor.

  “Em, yes,” Justine answered in her best ‘whatever could you mean?’ voice. “Everything is fine, Amy, thank you.” Amy continued to stand in front of the sign, however, presumably trying to make sense of what she thought she saw.

  “You are in so much trouble,” I teased Justine in a whisper as she released me from the wall.

  “I know.” Justine looked at me in the eyes. “You ok?”

  “I will be,” I assured her. And I knew that I would. I really wanted to know how we were going to get past the fiercely fixed stare of Amy Abernathy. Fate intervened when her husband approached, distracting her.

  “Let’s stop for a drink somewhere,” Justine said as we exited the Louvre and walked briskly to her car.

  “Are you ok
?” I asked as we drove off. I could tell she was deep in thought.

  “Yeah,” she replied. “Of all the people I know here, she is the gossipiest.”

  “What will you do?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Justine said, her shoulders relaxing, “No one listens to her anyway. And if they did, I don’t see that anyone would care.” Her hand took mine and placed it on her seat, then returned to the wheel.

  “Still. I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Don’t be. She doesn’t know what she saw.”

  “I mean, I’m sorry about losing it earlier. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It’s alright. We should have talked about it a long time ago.”

  Chapter 24

  Justine drove us to a small restaurant where we sat at the empty bar, away from others.

  I thumbed through a menu that was on the counter, habitually glancing through its content.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Uh.. no,” I said, closing the menu and setting it down. “You?”

  “No,” she replied, keeping her eyes on mine.

  The bartender approached and she ordered two martinis.

  “Wait, I think I’ll just have water,” I said. There was a small ache in my temple from the champagne.

  “Are you sure?” Justine looked at me puzzled. I nodded as I laid the pack of cigarettes on the bar.

  “Thank god,” she said, taking one. “I want to say a few more things about what we spoke of earlier, and then I hope we can both put it all to rest… somehow,” her voice trailed off as she exhaled smoke away from me. “I just want to make sure you are ok.”

  “I’m fine – I understand now, I think,” I said, lighting a cigarette for myself.

  “There was a time when had our situations not been so…preliminary…maybe I would have had other ideas about my future, but—” she looked off for a thought, “—I don’t even know how long that would have carried on.”

  Her words, though tough to hear, made sense. In some way, they brought a level of comfort to all that had been unanswered for so many years. She wanted a family. A marriage. A certain life that we might not have been able to create together. The laws at that time were not in favor of allowing us opportunities. As much as I wanted to offer words of agreement or confirmation of understanding, or sympathy even, all I could do was quietly nod my head as she spoke.

  “My dilemma,” she said, her tone suddenly changing from serious to coy, “is not taking advantage of every moment I have to spend with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were always one who needed to have things spelled out,” she said.

  “Ah, I see.” I grinned only half-heartedly and ran the lit end of my cigarette along the side of the glass ashtray, forming a point. I stubbed it out when I felt her hand rest on my knee.

  “Do you? I was very serious about what I said earlier. About… not having this with anyone else.”

  I reached for another cigarette, “You can’t continue to seduce me and expect me to heal,” I said trying to sound pleasant. Inside I was becoming uncomfortable.

  “Come on,” she said, putting her other hand on my other knee and applied light pressure to push them apart. I found it so uncharacteristic of her to do such a thing in a public place it caused me to laugh.

  “You can’t keep doing this to me, it’s torture,” I squirmed as though she had tickled me as I pushed her hands away, “and it’s not fair to F—“ I stopped. Justine’s eyes met mine. Her own laughter had stopped though her smile stayed.

  “That’s not what I meant to say,” I said, grabbing her martini and taking a huge gulp. When I reached for my pack of cigarettes, Justine put her hand over mine.

  “It’s ok,” she said.

  “Seriously, I don’t know where that came from.”

  “It’s alright – she obviously is in your thoughts.”

  “Not really. I mean, yes, a little, but in a normal way, because you know—” as I rambled, Justine motioned to the bartender for two martinis this time.

  “Have you spoken to her?”

  “No,” I said, sitting back in my chair. “I have no idea how she’s doing. What she is doing. Nothing.”

  “Have you even tried to reach her?” I only shook my head. “Why?”

  “What for?” I asked, “It’s not like there’s any chance for anything, and I think I should stay away anyway. Give her some space…”

  “Space for what?”

  “To heal, I guess.”

  “Well, if she has to heal then there is obviously something she needs healing from,” Justine leaned forward to drive her point.

  “What are you trying to suggest? Because I don’t need any more complications.” I watched Justine’s smile grew larger as my exasperation also grew. “There’s nothing to pursue with Fenne. I simply need to focus on my writing and get myself home and back to reality.”

  Justine fingered an olive from her glass and put in in her mouth, “You are in reality now, my love.” Her hand slid onto my knee again and the firmness with which she held it there reminded me of the very first moment she put her hand on my shoulder as we stood with my mom outside the ring the day I met her.

  “Stop,” I said, “you’re messing with my head.”

  “I’ve been trying to tell you this entire time, “she began in a more sober tone, “that I feel at a complete loss of control when I am around you.”

  “But—” I was confused. It wasn’t like her to display affection publicly, let alone admit to not feeling in control.

  “Because”—she proceeded—“of what we share. This is what we have always had- my god how many ways do I need to spell it out? And the fact that you no longer get it leads me to believe your affection for this Danish girl is more legitimate than you are willing to admit.”

  I touched her hand, “Ok,” I said gently, “I understand. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you repeat yourself.”

  “Talk to her Calli,” Justine said, touching my cheek. “She might be worth it.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said.

  “I want you to be happy.”

  “Then stop making me crazy!” I teased. “And why are you so interested in how I feel about Fenne anyway? You don’t know her. She could be a complete psychopath.”

  Justine smiled and looked to the bottom of her glass. “The last time I saw you was when? Sometime when you were in your twenties?”

  “Yeah, when I was with Elise.”

  “Elise? Oh was that her name?”

  “Well, yes. I told you. Not that I expect you to remember—” Justine was shaking her head no.

  “No. You never once mentioned her by name. In fact, once we left your mother’s house I didn’t hear about her again.”

  “Oh come on, that can’t be true,” I said, snorting a laugh. “That doesn’t mean anything. I was prepared to leave everything behind had you asked. And besides, she knew everything about you. From day one, so it’s not that I was keeping secrets—”

  “Right,” Justine intervened, “she knew everything about me, but I knew nothing of her.”

  “How is this relevant?”

  “I know of Fenne…. What have you told her about me?”

  Chapter 25

  The moment I arrived back at Juliette’s home, I wrote to Fenne. I made no attempt to apologize or make explanations for anything we had been through. I only told her she was in my thoughts and how very wonderful I thought she was. I told her how special I felt when she shared her simplest ideas with me. I told her that if she ever found herself wishing for one more moment together, I too was wishing the same. I wrote less than a page, but I wrote everything I wanted to say, and I believed when she read it she would appreciate my attempt to be “less decorated” with my words. I addressed the letter to the Rijksmuseum and walked to the post office just down the street.

  From that day, I wrote with more passion than I had since my arrival. I felt focused and charged and ever
ything flowed from my mind to the keyboard as I broke the heart of my story’s protagonist and rebuilt her, with my renewed impelling force.

  I awoke from restless dreams to write in the middle of the night and slept when I needed to during the day. Some nights I wandered to Fenne’s bed and tried to find her scent in the pillows or any other trace of her that she left behind. Juliette had prepared the room for a new guest, but she left her arrangement of teas in the small twig basket on the dresser. It dawned on me that Fenne had made the basket from the twigs as she had done with the bird’s nest she made for me. I put the teas in the top drawer of the dresser and held the basket to my nose to try to inhale any remnant of her, then took it to my room.

  Within one week I received a letter back from Fenne:

  Lieve -

  I must first express my joy when I received your letter. It came at a time I needed it most. My work here has been more than overwhelming but I also feel I am at home more than any other place. Everyone here is nice. I miss the taste of France in the meals I prepare. I am making friends, but not like those of you at Juliette’s. I miss every one of you, and even more than anyone, I am missing you. You know I don’t give much attention to fairy tales, but I think I experienced one with you and it was as beautiful as they are said to be. I was lucky to meet someone who made me feel like I was not so strange after all.

  I don’t know why our timing worked out as it did. I don’t believe in your notions of fate, but I cling to what I felt and touched and will always hold dear the memories of our time together. It was more than a fling for me, which I think you already know. I think it was for you also, even if you do not have the courage to face it. I suppose there are logical reasons why we could not have found a way to make it work, and I trust your decision to not allow it to. I mean that with full sincerity. Please understand I respect your decisions, as I know they are best for you.

  I often wonder what is becoming of Alice in your book. Does she remain Alistair through the entire story and does she remember her true identity when she is with the person she has fallen for? How does her true love handle the times they are apart? You must send me a copy when it is published. I’ll expect a personal note inside the cover!