“I don’t know…” I confess, trying to put some order to my emotions. “I’ve never felt like this before.”
“You’ve never fallen in love,” Lillian reveals, delicately settling a hand on my shoulder.
“Is this how one feels?”
“More or less, little sister, plus the unquenchable craving for kisses and caresses, a spasmodic wish to always be together, a touch of jealousy when he laughs at a joke told by a girl who isn’t you, and a generous helping of fears, worries, and happiness.”
“Did you feel like that with Zach?” the most inappropriate question of the evening slips out.
“Oh, Gil,” she sighs dejectedly, “… I’m afraid I did, but with time and experience you acquire a kind of ability to gradually soothe the tide of emotions and feelings that overcome you. Love is the most beautiful thing in the world when it is reciprocated, but it can become a blade rending your heart if it’s not.”
“He doesn’t love you?”
“I don’t know,” she confesses, finding a better position on the floor and leaning against the wall next to me. “I thought so, but maybe I was wrong.”
“And does this thing of soothing emotions work on you?” I then want to know. I wish she were as happy as I am right now. This thing with Zach has clouded her smile and I don’t like to see her so listless, though she tries to hide it as best she can.
“It will work,” she replies with a sad smile. “Sooner or later it will work.”
I take her hand and give it a squeeze. Lillian is strong, I know, but sometimes strong people need some support too.
“Come on, let’s go. It’s time to sleep, otherwise tomorrow you’ll have huge bags under your eyes and you don’t want your great love to see you with bags under your eyes,” she warns me, slightly reinvigorated.
“I don’t have bags under my eyes,” I observe, standing and holding out my hand to help her do the same.
“Not yet,” she laughs, standing up. “By the way, have you figured out what his job is?” she asks nonchalantly.
“Not yet, he’s going to tell me about it tomorrow.”
“Oh, a day of revelations, then,” she mollifies me, preceding me into the bedroom. “I hope he’s a millionaire with a villa in Hawaii. If I’m right, I deserve an open invitation for every day of the year.”
15
I’m tense. I didn’t think I’d be tense, but I am. Now that the dance is about to begin, I am unexpectedly assailed by doubts: have I done the right thing? Was Mother right with all that talk about being an employee to try my hand at working a bit before I set off on this adventure? Maybe I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, one of my impulse decisions, and I’m realizing it too late. Or are these the qualms that anyone would experience when realizing the time has come to get shed the water wings and swim.
The shop is perfect, yellow, just like I imagined it, with a long counter in front of the two doors leading to the bathroom and the storage room, and all the shelves along the walls and the displays in the center of the room creating an elegant island with Styrofoam heads wearing some of the hats I made recently which had been gathering dust in my closet in Rochester. The windows are framed by delicate jade green curtains, gathered at the sides with voluptuous satin bows – small theater curtains opening on my creations, just like I wanted them. Two acrylic lamps hang from the ceiling with spherical lampshades, open as if they were petals emitting a white light that creates a spectacular play of lights and shadows. Needless to say, Ernest was the one who found them.
The counter is covered in an embroidered tablecloth, set with trays large and small of appetizing delicacies prepared by Mother and Jane. They met for the first time this morning and I got the feeling they both like each other a lot. At least mother isn’t worried about the rent anymore. She sees Jane isn’t the kind of woman to play nasty tricks.
“I have to admit the final effect is better than I was expecting,” Father comes over, admiring the play of light on the ceiling.
“Yup,” I agree with a blend of satisfaction and terror.
“I am proud of you, Gil. I am really very proud of my little girl,” I turn towards him and I see a flash of pride in his gaze. This is enough to erase all the tension I am feeling and make me feel up to the task, almost capable of scaling a mountain.
“Thank you, Father. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you.”
“I didn’t do very much after all,” he points out.
“I’m not talking only about the shop, I’m talking about how you encouraged me, of how you believed in this dream though experience suggested a different ending. Thank you for being there and for giving me the courage to jump.”
“And that’s how I know you’ve grown up,” he proudly observes.
“Well, it had to happen sooner or later,” I smile.
“I know, but I was hoping it would be later.”
“Better sooner than never.” Father gives me a mean look that is supposed to be scary but he looks too satisfied for me to worry.
“Gil, honey,” Jane interrupts us holding a large platter.
“Jane, what a pleasure. Punctual as usual,” I say, unburdening her. Boy is it heavy! It looks like she made enough food for an army, and this is only the last of a long series of serving dishes lined up on the counter.
“Always, and I brought Maggie with me,” she replies, giving the perfect woman standing next to her one of her wrinkly smiles.
“Margherita!” I exclaim, happy to see her.
“I couldn’t miss this,” she delicately embraces me. Every time I see her she looks more beautiful than the time before. It may also be thanks to her impeccable taste in clothes – I have never seen a woman so skilled in combining hues with her pale complexion. Today she is wearing a sky blue fitted dress, the skirt just above her knees, and a shrug with three-quarter sleeves. A pair of pearl earrings and a touch of makeup setting off her eyes are sufficient to make her look too perfect to be real.
“Miss Valery, Jane,” Father shakes both of their hands with a slight bow. I’ve never seen him do that before, it must be Princess Margherita’s presence that pushed him to do so.
“Wendell, I have to admit that words cannot describe these small masterpieces,” Margherita turns toward the center of the room where the hats are on display.
“Oh, Gil is great with hats. She even won the County Prize,” he boasts once again, puffing out his chest.
Margherita smiles politely. “Yes, I had the pleasure of admiring that particular hat: truly marvelous. A very well deserved prize,” she agrees.
“It was nothing much, just a minor award.”
“That’s what they all say,” Jane breaks in.
“Jane, aren’t you on my side?” I feign vexation, though it’s difficult to keep a straight face under her cheerful gaze which has seen too much to be tricked into thinking otherwise.
“Always, my dear, always,” she shuts me up with a smile.
“Isn’t Jared here yet?” Margherita suddenly asks.
“Not yet,” I am forced to reply. I glance fleetingly at my watch and take a deep breath to dispel my anxiety when I realize that it’s only ten past five. It’s too early to worry.
“Gil, sweetheart, what do you say we begin? We’re nearly all here now, aren’t we?” Mother appears behind me.
“No, there are still two people missing,” I protest with a little too much pathos, but luckily she doesn’t notice.
“It doesn’t matter, there’s enough food to go around, I don’t think they’ll be left without if they’re a little late,” she insists. She’s always been like this: incapable of relaxing until everyone around her is eating and enjoying the evening. Waiting and stalling have always made her nervous.
“Indulge her,” Father whispers in my ear.
“Ok, ok,” I surrender with a shrug as I walk around the counter. Once I have reached my place, I am about to clear my throat to catch the attention of everyone present, when Ernest arriv
es. Instead of joining the others, he comes straight over to me and stops in front of the counter. This man gets taller by the day!
“I knew you couldn’t resist for more than ten minutes,” I gloat, incapable of refraining. He fixes his glasses on his nose and gives me one of those looks that would be extremely unpleasant coming from anyone else, but not from him. I suspect Ernest could behave in the most boorish possible way and no one would consider it such.
“I noticed you were about to begin without me. I could be offended,” he dryly remarks, not the slightest emotion on his face. Is he mad?
“Actually…”
“Oh, you’re so melodramatic, Erny. I didn’t know they’d made you king of the castle,” Jane teases him, coming closer to the buffet.
“Actually I should be given the title, I am the only one in here who qualifies.”
“I may consider the idea, but only after we’ve properly celebrated our Gil,” Jane reminds him, wagging a chubby finger under Ernest’s straight nose.
“I came here with that intention precisely,” he points out, putting a hand in his pocket and pulling out one of those bells you use in hotels to call the reception personnel. “Here, dear, is my present,” he states seriously, setting it on the counter.
“But Ernest… you didn’t have to get…” I begin, but Jane interrupts me.
“You didn’t make much of an effort, Erny,” she scolds him, glaring disapprovingly at the bell. “This thing is totally superfluous; the shop isn’t so big that it needs a bell.”
“Oh, Jane, as if you didn’t know: it is common knowledge that for many years now the superfluous has been trumping the necessary,” he reminds her before he gives me a satisfied smile and steps away from the counter.
“He wants to be right as usual,” Jane mutters as she joins him. Well, superfluous or not, it is certainly delightful, it’s shiny steel perfectly complements the color of my counter. I already adore it. And since it’s there, I don’t see why I shouldn’t use it. Instead of clearing my throat, I ring my new present a couple of times, enjoying the clear tinkle it produces, to get everyone’s attention. Not that it was necessary, Jane and Ernest’s bickering had already done the job, but the satisfaction of ringing this bell is priceless.
“Thank you all for coming. I’m not good at speeches, so don’t ask me for one, but I do want to tell you how important each one of you was for me to believe in the realization of my dream,” I have a hard time containing my joy and seeing their smiles makes me even happier. There is only one sour note in this magical moment: Jared is missing. “Thanks to my family I was able to learn the art of hat making and continue creating new ones in the hope of realizing this endeavor. Thanks to Ernest and Jane I was able to have this shop and most of the tools of the trade. I didn’t think people like you existed, I truly thank you,” I insist, looking at one then the other, my two benefactors. “Thanks to Margherita I will also have my first client,” Maggie’s eyes soften and she nods. And that is when I notice a movement behind her. The last guest sneaks in tardily. He notices I am looking at him and instantly smiles back, unexpectedly warming my heart. By now I should know the effect he has on me, why can’t I get used to it? “And thanks to Jared I was able to finish the renovation without hurting myself too much,” I finish without being able to take my eyes away from his, and everyone turns to look at him. Naturally this embarrasses Jared, who looks down, ill at ease and seems to want to disappear, but he doesn’t budge, in the eternal struggle between what his instinct suggests and what his mind, and maybe his heart, instruct him to do. How sweet he is.
“Come on people, lets party!” I feel I have to save him, bringing everyone’s attention back to the counter decked in snacks. Father immediately joins me and uncorks a bottle of sparkling wine, inviting everybody to grab a glass and come and have it filled. I hurriedly take two and go over to Jared who is still waiting near the door.
“You made it,” I observe handing him a glass, while a subdued chatter floods the shop. This is exactly the familiar atmosphere I was aiming for.
“I had a drawback with your present,” he smiles before he drinks a sip with an amused and once again relaxed expression.
“Present? I see no one listened to me when I said, and fairly clearly too, that you weren’t supposed to get me presents,” I object.
“I’d say that we all listened to you, but we didn’t agree with you,” he retorts with a sly smile.
“I hope you didn’t overdo it.”
“Overdoing it is in my style.”
“Jared,” I admonish him, alarmed. What has he got me?
“It’s out here,” he replies, as if he hasn’t perceived the scolding tone in my voice. He looks so enthusiastic that I have a hard time looking annoyed. Darn.
“What is it?” Curiosity has got the better of me. He does not reply but raises his free arm and beckons for me to step out of the door. I turn towards the other guests: Mother and Father are amiably conversing with Jane and Ernest – judging by my father’s expression as he bites into a piece of savory pie, they’re probably talking about food; Lillian and Grandma Natalie are chatting with Margherita near the displays – it seems my sister is busy talking me up with the only person with whom this is entirely unnecessary. Nobody is paying attention to me and Jared, so I accept his invitation without feeling guilty and I sneak outside with him in tow. I’m excited – I turn frantically left and right, but it looks like there’s nothing here. I look up, a bit disappointed, and see he’s smiling smugly.
“Well?” the question slips out.
He bridges the distance between us, wraps his arm around my waist, and with his free hand he holds up my chin and kisses me. His lips taste of bubbles and sparkling wine and have the power of making me forget everything. It feels like an entire lifetime has gone by since the last time he kissed me. I slip my fingers through his hair and enjoy the sensation of his chest against mine, of his tongue exploring my mouth, communicating his desire to possess me. Only he can make me feel protected and special, loved and desired like I have never been before.
When he pulls back, I nearly feel the ground slip away from under my feet. I let my hands slide down to his chest and I dive back into the emerald depths of his eyes.
“It’s a beautiful present,” I whisper incapable of holding back the smile that assertively takes over every muscle of my face.
“This isn’t my present,” he says, and disappears out of the main door.
“Where are you going?” I try to stop him, but he is too fast. I see him reappear only a few seconds later with a bicycle with an enormous yellow bow on the handlebar.
“It’s time to learn,” he happily observes, placing it right in front of me.
“What…” I don’t know what to say. I look at the bike as if it were a mirage. I can’t believe he’s been listening to every word that came out of my mouth, even the stupid bicycle story. I’m not sure I deserve a man like him; I’m not sure if I’m good enough for a man like him.
“How did you remember?”
“I didn’t have to remember, I never forgot,” he points out with a nonchalance that I find moving.
“Now you’ll have to teach me,” I observe as I go round my gift to embrace him. He welcomes me as if he never desired anything else and kisses me lightly on my forehead.
“I can’t wait.”
“I’m so happy,” I murmur against his chest. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he whispers holding me closer. “Maybe we should go back to your guests. I suspect our absence hasn’t gone unnoticed, especially by one pair of eyes.” True.
“Jane’s,” I agree slipping out of his embrace. She doesn’t miss a thing. “Let’s go,” I am forced to concede, taking his hand and going back into the store.
The party carries on, peaceful and carefree. Though there’s not much left of the buffet, Father keeps going back to it now and then. Ernest seems to pay more attention to his figure – I only saw him eat a couple of Ja
ne’s macarons. That’s why he is so lean even if he doesn’t take a step more than necessary.
“Jane,” I call her as soon as she finishes talking. She turns towards me and immediately a wrinkly smile lights up her face.
“Dear, what is it?” she prepares to listen.
“Do you remember your promise?”
“My promise?”
“Yes, about the rent. You promised we would talk about it as soon as I finished fixing up the store,” I remind her, though I’m sure she hasn’t forgotten.
“Of course, dear. We’ll talk about it next Monday, ok? The week is about to end and you won’t be opening to the public for another two weeks, so why hurry things?”
“Because I’ve got the feeling you don’t want to make me pay my rent,” there’s no denying it, it’s far too obvious.
“Is that so easy to guess? I thought I was better at dissembling,” she reflects, drumming a finger on her very thin lips.
“Oh, Jane, you and dissembling don’t even belong to the same dimension,” Ernest breaks in.
“Don’t be foolish, Erny. A woman is always good at dissembling – what kind of woman would she be if she wasn’t?” the innuendo wasn’t lost on me.
“I thought you were better than that,” Ernest ponders thoughtfully.
“We’re going off track,” I have to stop them both before they get into one of their epic squabbles.
“And what was the track?” Ernest is curious to know.
“Will you ever learn to mind your own business, Erny?” Jane asks with resignation.
“It’s unlikely. My business is terribly tedious, I find other people’s much more stimulating.” Never mind.
“The rent,” I reply before Jane finds an adequate response.
“Oh,” answers Ernest, suddenly disappointed. “This conversation has lost all its allure in an instant. I was hoping for something more juicy than an ordinary question of money.”
“As you see, sometimes it’s more interesting to mind one’s own business.” Jane doesn’t forgo one last quip and Ernest gives her a defeated smile before he goes back where he came from.
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