by Paloma Meir
“What did she say?” He looked up from the letters, genuinely curious.
“I have no idea, something about stars and time. She’s a moron.”
“Well aren’t you lucky that she went away then.” He held up the magazine. “Who would want anything to do with that?”
“You can have her. She’s good for a workout.” I looked at my phone for the time. I had to drive into town for dinner with Sarah.
“I might take you up on that bro.” He called out as I walked away, “I won’t mention her anymore okay. Stop hating on her.”
…
Sarah and I had dinner at Locanda Veneta across the street from the hospital. The plush red seats and mellow mood of the restaurant after the mail incident with Serge was a welcome relief. We ordered the risotto special and red wine.
Sarah was dressed casually, her dark hair pushed behind her ears. She was a little pixie with her almond shaped green eyes. I had never dated someone so short before. She was about 5.4” and curvier than I usually liked. It was a welcome after all the Zelda clones. I couldn’t take another tall blond. The sight of them on the beach enraged me.
“I might have to pull myself off of your father’s case. I seem to irritate him. I had thought it was a passing phase but as he gets stronger his feelings are more intense.”
“Don’t take it personally. He’s frustrated by his speech not being understood. You only see him at the rehab once a week right? He can take it. I don’t think my mother would be up for a change in leadership.” I pulled a piece of bread apart, not really eating it.
“You’re right. Twenty minutes a week of actual face time won’t hurt him. He’s doing well with his walking. He’ll be home in another month or so. He’s a strong man. His speech will come back.” She put her hand over mine but that was it, none of that ridiculous hanging on me, touching me all the time. Personal space was important.
We went back to her apartment around the corner after dinner. We watched TV for a while and then had sex. It was, normal, sane. Like most women she was a big fan of lingerie. It did nothing for me but I pretended to be excited it. It was great to be with rational woman. I left around midnight. We made plans to drive up the coast to Santa Barbara the following weekend. My life was calm.
Chapter Sixteen
The chill of fall was upon us. I boxed up our summer clothes and sent them to my storage facility in Los Angeles, where I kept the things I no longer needed but were too sentimental to give away. I took Louisa and Astrid out for another shopping day. My days in Paris were coming to an end. My reckless spending didn’t cause uncomfortable feelings anymore. I planned to donate a large amount of money to a Woman’s Shelter in Les Halles before I went home. I had read about the center when I had gone through the period of trying to keep up on current events. I didn't want my decadence to incur the wrath of the Gods or God.
After the photo incident my parents tracked me down. They didn't understand what I was doing dancing the night away when I was supposedly a quiet woman living in Madrid with Louisa and Paolo. The story I told them of Paolo and I taking a break would make no sense to anyone but them. Their need to be concerned but not involved in my life worked in my favor as it usually did. They were happy with my luxurious lifestyle, having never liked my simple life with Paolo. I knew they would be sad when I went home and resumed my more rational way of living.
After a few weeks in Paris Theodora began opening up to me more, letting me in to her real life. I hadn’t known she had split herself in two. At home she had a girlfriend Pascal. She was a bit older than us, boyish in a dreamboat way and quite seriously involved with a political group. As much as I loved France I knew little of their political process. Pascal would try to engage me in conversation. I would do my best to keep up, but it was all so foreign to me. She eventually gave up. Theodora was the same way. Our education had been too self indulgent, living the life of the mind and all of that for us to ever care deeply about things outside of ourselves.
I would ask her why she kept her life with Pascal a secret, especially in light of all the pictures of us out at night and people presuming that we were lovers. She said that her family would know that we were only having fun, toying with gossip. They would understand that. She was scared to come out to them. This didn’t make sense to me. Her family was large, her mother and father had each remarried several times creating new families with each partner, everyone remaining close after the eventual parting. They were accepting people, and I knew that one of her older brothers was gay and accepted by their clan. She couldn’t put her reluctance into words.
Her minor celebrity status as a bored daughter of musical royalty added excitement to my stay in Paris. The photographers that would snap her picture at night and by extension mine. They called me an ex-pat designer heiress. I felt glamorous even though I knew our status didn’t extend beyond the city limits. I cut out the pictures and put them in my journal and wondered if I would ever show them to Louisa when she was older.
I made plans to go home. It was hard to think of an area in Los Angeles where I would want to live. I looked at all the crime statistics. It was my duty to keep my family of Louisa and Astrid safe. I had thought Santa Monica would be perfect. Close to Danny and safe in a sea of families. I was wrong. The red dots on the map showed dozens of pedophiles and rapists. Topanga Canyon looked to be a good option but on second thought was too remote. I had grown used to strolling out my front door in Madrid and having the grocers and fruit stands within walking distance. Beverly Hills had a good mix of homes and shops and only a half dozen red dots. Beverly Hills it would be.
I found a small Spanish house within walking distance of the police station, the closest red dot being a mile away. It was fully furnished, not to my liking but good enough. I was sure that after a few months Danny and I would find our own home and I could do with that whatever I liked with it. The only problem was it wouldn’t be available until January 1st. Oh well, Christmas in Paris wasn’t anything to complain about. I asked Astrid if she wanted to go back and visit her family in Germany before we flew to America. She declined. I wondered what she was running from.
Her English was getting better every day. She had affinity for language. I was envious. I had always struggled with Spanish, practicing daily, memorizing vocabulary lists. I had lived in Spain for two years before I could effortlessly have a casual conversation.
Louisa sat on my lap, rubbing my chin with her soft little hands while I booked tickets and took care of last minute details when my phone rang. It was Carolina. I dreaded talking to her. I had only been responding to her with text messages. I ignored her questions about my situation, answering with general updates on what Louisa and I did throughout our day. Texting had become my favorite way of communicating.
“Hello Carolina.”
“What are you doing?” She sounded aggravated.
“Booking tickets home, playing with Louisa. How’s New Hampshire?”
“Are you going tell me what happened?”
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m meeting Theodora for lunch so I’ll have to make this call quick. She sends her love.”
“I’ve pieced it mostly together through talking to Serge.”
“If you have told Serge about Louisa I will never talk to you again in my life. You will be dead to me.” I was very upset, yelling into the phone, scaring my baby girl. How dare she disrupt my plan. I handed Louisa to Astrid and went into my room, shutting the door behind me.
“Of course I didn’t. You forget that I know you. I assume you have a strategy.”
“Have you been watching Amelie too? I’ve been using her as my guide.” I laughed and relaxed, forgiving her for the stupid decision of not telling me about what was right in front of me.
“Always. Tell me what is going on.”
“Tell me why you didn’t point out Louisa’s true parentage. It took me a full year to see it. It destroyed Paolo.” A chill swept through me with the memory of my deception.
�
�What should I have done? It was always going to hurt him. Try to imagine if Anthony and I had told you that day. The most beautiful day of your life would have become the most horrible. We didn’t know how it would unfold. You two could have very well lived out your lives not knowing. It happens and you know that.” As awful as it was to hear, I knew she was right. I curled up on my bed.
“Then why did you and Anthony go to Danny and tease him with pictures?” I managed to ask without crying.
“We didn’t know what the right thing to do was. We played with ideas. After that breakfast we knew it wasn’t our place to get involved. You should have seen him. He was not equipped in any way to go play Daddy. His t-shirt was inside out Zelda. Serge and him have issues with growing up. So we left it alone. What should we have done differently?”
I didn’t know what to say. I took deep breaths to control my growing anxiety.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
“You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.” I was winded and wanted to get off the phone and spend the day laying in bed, staring out at the gray Paris skyline.
“You’re going home?”
“I have a plan.” I sat up and vigorously shook my head, not wanting to give in to my dark mood. “I’m assuming Serge told you of my unfortunate visit with Danny? He had a temper tantrum when I left. He lost his mind. It was so strange. I’ve never in my life seen him behave in such a way. I wrote him a letter when I came back here explaining my reasons for needing to be in Paris. I told him the truth about Louisa. So far he hasn’t responded. I have two theories on that. One, he didn’t read my letter. Two, he’s respecting my reasons and giving me my space. I’m going back to Los Angeles on the first. He’ll come back to me and you know, we’ll live happily ever after. There’s more to it of course but that sums it up.”
“If that’s what you want then I want that for you too. Friends again?”
“Yes. Can we talk about Serge? He’s so funny. I’ve added him to my mailing list. I write him my boring letters every week and he sends me these ridiculous stick figure drawings of what he’s been up to. He’s so cute. Louisa’s taken to scribbling on them. I think I’ll have some of them framed when I get home. The colorful silliness will brighten up her room.”
We talked for the next two hours about everything and nothing. She was going home for Christmas but leaving before I arrived. She said she would try to change her ticket but didn’t know if it was possible. I preformed my last act financial waste after we ended our call. I booked her a first class ticket, making her schedule work with mine. I would have three days with her before she had to go back to New Hampshire for her classes. She emailed me back a thank you with a reprimand about the unnecessary expenditure of first class.
Chapter Seventeen
It was Christmas day. As a Jew this meant it was just another Thursday. That had always been one of my father’s favorite jokes. He was back at home, but only able to walk with a walker. My parents had turned the downstairs study into their bedroom so my Dad wouldn’t have to deal with the stairs.
Serge had insisted I go with him to his parents house for Christmas brunch, saying that Carolina would be there as if that would spur my interest. He had no idea how much I had grown to dislike his sister. “Family Day” he said as if it were a done deal. I gritted my teeth and went. One word from his mousy little sister about Zelda and I would be out of there.
We stopped by Whole Foods on the way up to his parent’s house. I grabbed a gift basket to take to his parents. Serge reminded me of the no alcohol rule of his childhood home. All the remaining gift baskets had wine. We found a clerk and asked him to make a large basket without alcohol in it. In spite of it being Christmas day the clerk rolled his eyes at our request and took his time assembling it.
“She’s fourteen years sober. Proud of my mom.” He said as we waited. I knew that his mother’s sobriety date coincided with Zelda’s, being reminded of her for any reason made me surly.
“Cool.”
“You know what? It is cool.” He patted me on the back letting my asshole behavior go.
His mother had set up the brunch outside on their terrace that overlooked the canyon. It was a warm day in spite of it being the first days of winter. Why would anyone want to live anywhere else? We had everything, the beach, skiing an hour away, mild weather. L.A. was Shangri-La as far as I was concerned.
Carolina was sweet as could be, asking me questions about what I was doing. I told her of my plan to knock the two houses and build a big one. She pretended to be interested. She was gracious. When the conversation drifted to shared memories, as it would considering we had known each other since we were little kids, she carefully avoided Zelda. I appreciated that, worlds away from the breakfast a year and a half before. It was her mother who shattered our peaceful little meal.
“I don’t think I’ve ever let you know how proud of you I was for helping Zelda through her problems. You took it on like a man. Her parents... Well we won’t speak badly of them on this special day There’s an old saying Danny, you save one person you save the world.” She held up her glass orange juice. “You saved the world...” There was no doubt that she meant it a kind way, but her words left me cold.
“Mom it’s Christmas. Let’s have a pleasant conversation.” Carolina said.
“It is Christmas Carolina, a day we should appreciate those around us. He saved that poor girl. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t intervened.”
“You were in rehab for the whole thing. You never saw her. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She looked over at me, “Not to take anything away from you Danny.” She turned to her mother, “It’s poor manners to bring up such things with company. Please stop.”
“We went to meetings together. She was my sober buddy.” Her mother laughed at the memory. “She told me the whole story. She surprised me with her strength.”
“Willfulness, she was willful, never strong.” I stood up. “Thanks for brunch. I am going to walk down to visit my parents. Serge you’ll pick me up on the way back home?”
“I’m sorry Danny. I didn’t mean to be out of line. My family always tells me I talk too much. I’ll listen to them in the future.”
“You’re perfect the way you are Mom.” Serge stood up, “I’m going to take Danny home. See you tomorrow Carolina?”
We drove silently down the canyon road.
“Sorry about my Mother. She gets a little weird about appreciating everybody after her years of being so... angry.”
“No problem. I’m going to start the demolition in March. I should have all the loans in place by then. I’ve been looking at places to rent for the duration of the construction. I’m thinking the condos behind Pepperdine. You in?”
“That would be great but only if you let me share the rent. My office is downtown. That’s going to be a drive. I’ll figure it out.”
“When do you start?”
“March 1st. I’m cutting off my dreads February 28th. Sad day ahead.”
“Good for me. They smell. Sarah and I are heading up to Mammoth tomorrow for a few days. You want to come with us?”
“Don’t you two want to be alone?”
“No. The more the merrier.”
“Cool dude. I’m in. I’ll switch my plans with Carolina around.”
Chapter Eighteen
The journey home to meet my destiny was divine. I lay back in my seat nursing my little Louisa for what would be the last time. She had weaned herself for the most part. Suckling now more to relieve the ear pressure of the landing than for nutrients. She was almost eighteen months old. My baby was a toddler.
Astrid sat beside me with her headphones in her ears practicing her English. She was partially fluent, though her accent was still heavy. She was excited to be moving to Los Angeles, land of movie stars. I worried the lack of glamour in my planned lifestyle would disappoint her. She had grown used to our high-end life in Paris.
I texted Danny from
the backseat of the town car all my new contact information. I let him know that I was ready for him to come and get me. I used my most decorative language free from my self-imposed silence, words of love for my love. I knew he had never read my letter. His family roots were too strong to ignore Louisa no matter how he temporarily felt about me. I planned to text him every day until he inevitably came for us. I would write him a new letter the next day.
Carolina waited for me in front of my new home. The house wasn’t as well maintained from the outside as it had looked in the pictures. I hoped the inside wasn’t as deceptive. I couldn’t have my daughter living in disrepair. I would hate to have to stay with my parents while looking for a new home.
“Carolina” I jumped out of the car and gave her a big hug “You remember Astrid?” Astrid stood behind me holding my sleeping beauty, "Look how big my girl has grown". The driver unloaded our bags.