by Marten, Mimi
“I will kill you! You are never going to grow up.” She was pretending to be mad, but couldn’t hold it for long, started to laugh and gave him a big hug.
“So the guy with the fastest car and a title to prove it comes last to the party? Classic.”
“It’s all about the entrance, my love. Where is this man of yours? I found out yesterday, and I have been heartbroken ever since.” He was making sad faces, and Simona was laughing more and more.
Andre was smiling, talking, but his mind was somewhere else...
What a day! First I get killed by a number, and then I’m told my son’s name is Andree! What else is going to happen tonight? How much more can I take? Is this my 4th glass of champagne? I should have some food...
Everybody finally sat down at the table. The host was still not there, but Madame Bonnet was told that she should go ahead with the dinner. He was going to arrive shortly.
Simona was checking on Andre’s mood. He was talking to Jacques, smiling.
Then the door opened, and Philippe walked in. Simona jumped out of her seat, rushing to the door. She had not seen him since before she left for Maui. He was as exited as she was. He opened his arms, she kissed him on his mouth, and he lifted her up. They forgot about the people in the room, fully present in each other’s energy and engaged in that moment. It wasn’t an unusual scene for the group, but it was slightly different with Andre in the room. Everybody was curious about how he was going to react.
They were both laughing, talking over each other in French and English, until they realized that the whole room was silent, staring at them.
Philippe didn’t panic at all.
“Nice. So nobody waits for the host anymore? You started without me? All of you, get the hell out of my house!”
That took the edge off, and everybody started to laugh. People started to talk, and the room became noisy again.
Except for Andre. He was staring at Philippe who still held his arm around Simona’s waist. Jacques was standing next to him, feeling his adrenaline barometer rising. He took the champagne glass out of his hand and tried to get his focus away.
“Listen, let’s have a real drink outside. Something different than this Goddamn champagne.”
Andre didn’t hear a word. He couldn’t get his eyes off the ‘couple’.
Simona’s face was lit up, talking excitedly to Philippe who was giving her hugs.
“Ok, that’s it! I think it’s time to elaborate on your statement, Mr. Bouchard.”
The room fell silent, and all eyes were on Andre.
“Could you refresh my memory, please? What statement are you referring to?” Philippe was in his element, clearly enjoying it. Simona knew him well and pinched him on his waist. He looked at her and smiled, as if to say ‘com’on let me have some fun.’ She gave him a look back…’you are terrible, stop torturing him.”
“What kind of a relationship is INTIMATE??!!! Look, I know I’m a guest at your house, but the woman on your arm is mine. And she is the woman I love. We are on even ground now, you wanted to have a fair fight. Well, here it is. What the hell does ‘intimate relationship’ mean, and what are your intentions?”
Philippe didn’t let go of Simona. Simona tried to pull away to defuse the situation, but he wouldn’t let her.
“Well, Andre… I love this woman, and this is the most intimate relationship I ever had.”
“Philippe!” Simona was rolling her eyes. This was becoming a real drama.
“What? It’s true,” Philippe was protesting with an innocent expression.
“Well, Philippe, it’s too bad, but I’m not going anywhere and I really don’t care. Until she tells me she doesn’t love me anymore, I’m not giving up.”
“Wow, and you said this man didn’t fight for you? Hmmm, he seems to be fighting now.”
“There is a baby up there. He is mine. And I sure as hell am not letting anybody take him away.”
“Yes, he is yours. I’m sure Simona wouldn’t ever deny you any visitation rights.”
What did this asshole just say? Visitation rights? Is he out of his mind? I’m not having visitations with my son! I don’t want to be apart from him for a day of his life!
“Speaking of my son… You seem to know it all. Who the hell is Andree?”
Now Philippe was lost in translation. Was it a trick question?
He is Andre! What other Andre is he talking about?
Philippe looked confused.
“Who’s last name does my son have? Because I don’t need to get a DNA test done to know that THAT sleeping baby up there is mine. Well, who is going to tell me? Who’s name does my child carry, and why?”
Andre was raising his voice which was very much out of his character. Philippe looked at Simona and started to laugh out loud.
“And I’m the evil one? You are unbelievable! You have tortured this poor man enough. Give it up, tiger!”
Simona got defensive and pulled away from Philippe.
“Evil? He left me hanging. Poor and pregnant. I made it. Made the best out of it, and didn’t even stay bitter. I forgave him. What more do you want? Spill two years of my life in three days?”
“Alright, easy. I’m just saying that is a significant detail you left out. It didn’t come up yet?” Philippe was trying to calm Simona down.
“What are you two talking about? Would somebody just please answer my question?”
The room was amused, entertained, but also stretched to maximum pressure.
“Somebody put this poor man out of his misery already,” said Manon, the doctor.
“It’s my last name,” Simona spoke with a soft voice.
“What? You got married again?” Andre was about to faint. It was too much.
It was so raw and so honest that it made her laugh. The rest of the room laughed, too. Finally the energy lightened up.
“No, silly, I changed my name. My name is Simona Thea Andree.”
Andre couldn’t process any more. His brain was shutting down. He was confused. The writer lady, Noemi, took over.
“Have you heard of the novelist, Thea Andree?”
“The controversial story, the woman that doesn’t give interviews?”
“Very good. That’s the one.”
Is this lady suggesting that Simona is Thea Andree? Or am I stupid? Is it the champagne? Or is it this Goddamn day? I have lost my mind. What the hell is going on? Am I the moron here?? Or is this a conspiracy that they are all trying to pull on me?
“Let me just make sure I’m understanding this correctly. You are the writer who wrote three books in one year and got famous for it?”
“Of course not. I had been writing them for years. They just got published last year and this year.”
“Are you saying you are rich?”
Simona smiled and looked at Philippe.
“He made me rich…”
“And she made me richer,” Everybody was laughing finally.
Madame Bonnet suddenly had an opening. She walked in to greet the man of the house, asking permission to serve dinner. Everybody took their seat.
Philippe wasn’t finished as usual.
“That was a lovely welcome. I have to declare, Andre, this was the most exciting start to an evening we ever had. Congratulations, you earned it. It will always be yours. Cheers, everyone.”
The food was delicious, and the mood was great. Peace after a storm. Andre was mentally exhausted, but he couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome.
“One day, you are going to give me a heart attack, Blondie. That’s for sure.”
She smiled, but her mind was somewhere else.
“Listen, so if you are rich, why do you still have that silly job at the hotel?” Jacques was talking with his mouth full. Simona wanted to slap him.
“The silly job that doesn’t even pay for her babysitting.” Simona gave Philippe stink eye, mouthing to him ‘Seriously?’.
He shot right back. ‘You know this is a tough crowd. Com’on, yo
u can hold your own.’
“How much do you make? And how much do you pay her?” Typical Maurice. Never turns the money market off.
“Number one, I love my silly job. Number two, it’s none of your business how much I pay for my child. But if you must know, I pay Reni four thousand Euros. Number three, she is not a babysitter. She is his Aunty and loves him like her own.”
“Have you lost your mind? People with University degrees don’t make that much.”
“I appreciate your input, Pascal, but for your information, she has three University degrees. Even a PhD from your Sorbonne.”
“Seriously, can I be your nanny? I don’t have a PhD, but I will throw in some music lessons.” Hervé was laughing, but he was the first one to understand why she would do something like that. He treated his music like his children. He would protect his composed pieces with his life and everything he had.
“Come on, Olivier. You have nothing to add?” Philippe was instigating again.
“I think you are all asking the wrong questions. The question is, why do you pay her that much, Simona?”
“Thank you, Oli. Because she doesn’t do it for the money. And she gave up everything for a while to be there for me and Francois. I want her to have a comfortable life. I would never be able to have a babysitter or nanny for ten euros an hour. I don’t want those kind. No offense. But my child doesn’t speak yet, he can’t tell me what they did with him, so I have to have complete trust and faith in that person. For that kind of peace of mind, I’ll give my paycheck and then some.”
Philippe looked satisfied. Everybody was more or less settled, except Manon. It was time for her jabs, “So, why don’t you just stay home yourself and spend all the time with him? Clearly, you don’t need the paycheck.”
Manon was a doctor, didn’t have children, not sure if she could, but certainly had a strong opinion about this subject. Everybody sensed that this was getting personal and borderline. Andre started to feel overprotective, touching Simona’s hand under the table.
This is really a tough crowd. I’m going to have to say something soon…
“I have done that already, Manon. With my first two children. There are months, and if you count them together, probably years, that I can’t even remember. It’s one big blur to me. I was too exhausted, sleep deprived, physically and emotionally drained, to be able to enjoy it. Yes, I was there 24/7, but I wasn’t present. Between starting a business, building houses, having kids 18 months apart, moving nine times, and having my husband being gone from six to midnight, I couldn’t even go to the bathroom with closed doors for the first 5 years.”
Simona was laughing, but nobody else was. It was too honest, too real, and everybody was still processing the picture.
“Com’on people, lighten up! I was just trying to make a point. I decided to do it differently now. Having a second chance, I’m fully present and enjoying it to the fullest. I’m very grateful for all my help, and I always make sure to let them know that.”
“Yes, you do, Mademoiselle Simona.” Madame Bonnet came out of nowhere. It was so out of her character that it shocked even Philippe. He started laughing, got up, and kissed his blushing house lady on her cheek.
“I’m not sure if she doesn’t bribe my staff. I have to start paying more attention I guess.”
Finally everybody was laughing, and Simona was off the hook. Philippe winked with his left eye and raised his glass.
“Fabulous dinner, Madame Bonnet! I hope I’m scoring some points. Thank you all for being here. Cheers!”
❖ ❖ ❖
Simona was taking too long in the bathroom, and by the time she walked out, Andre was asleep, snoring peacefully, just like baby Francois in the crib.
She slipped her bathrobe on, went down to the kitchen, got a wine glass and an open bottle of California’s Cabernet, tiptoed to the other wing of the house, opened the first door, and walked outside on the terrace. The lounge chair was set with cushions and candles. She smiled.
Philippe was reading in bed, waiting for her to come. He put his robe on, grabbed another blanket, and walked out.
“Scoot over. It’s kinda chilly tonight.”
“You are so thoughtful, and it proves that it’s not me who trained you to be the best host,” she was giggling, trading the blanket for the wine.
“Of course it’s all me. I always say, you just trained my staff to the Four Seasons standards, but under my thorough supervision.”
Philippe poured the wine and laid down next to Simona, covering both of them with the blanket. The stars were beautiful. A beautiful, although a little ‘crispy’ summer night.
“Is there anybody else you drink out of one cup, or one glass with? Or is it only our own tradition?”
“Nobody else. Solely and only you.”
She had a sip and pointed to the other side.
“Do you realize that all the teas, coffees, wine, and milk we ever drank was out of one glass, cup, or mug?”
“What is your point?”
“Nothing, I like it. It’s a certain, intimate ritual.”
He took a sip from the other side of the glass.
“Philippe, how did you know Andre was Francois’s father? I never told you that.”
“I have seen his birth certificate.”
“Andre is not on his birth certificate.”
“Not on the European one, but on the U.S.”
“Are you flipping kidding me?”
“It was just a general check up…” Philippe was sporting an innocent expression.
“General check up, my ass. You had me investigated? You are un-fucking-believable!”
“God, relax. It was a long time ago. I didn’t put it together until I saw the airline reservation with his name on it.”
“I thought you would be over the moon. Was I wrong to send him here?”
“I am. Of course I am... And yes, I still have to punch you for that shock therapy. I’m just tired. And thanks a lot for making me the target tonight.” Simona slapped him on his shoulder, and Philippe grimaced.
“Auuuch! So what is it? This is me you are talking to. Cut to the chase. Dis-moi…”
“I’m not sure if I can do it. I love my life. I love my independence. Hell, I love my freedom. I have done the ‘building the dream together’. I have done the big house, dog, two kids. And I got lost along the way.”
“You don’t have to give up your life now. You earned it. But why can’t that be even better?”
“We have three failed marriages between the two of us. You really think we are one person kind of a species? Look at your life. Would you give all of this up? This great life, and what about all the relationships you built? Your freedom of not having to make constant compromises? Would you?”
“Ok, ok, back up. Our marriages failed for different reasons but same principals. You focused your energy on one thing and forgot the balance. I did it with my business, and you did it with your kids. That is the easy analysis. Another common ground is that neither of them were the ‘real thing’.”
“Yeah, well, you blew yours. I blew mine. We at least figured life is too short not to ever feel that way again, right?”
“Well, you are onto something here. You have the ‘real thing’ now, and it’s clear to everybody in your presence. It’s not only visible, but it’s almost there to touch. And tonight probably wasn’t even the best example.” Philippe smiled.
“What the hell is your point? That I should throw all the reasons or any rationalization out, and solely turn my life upside down based on my emotional state?”
“No. Easy, tiger. I know you are scared, but scared is a good thing. I would be more worried if you were sure of this thing.”
Suddenly Andre walked out to the terrace. The picture of the two of them lying next to each other, covered by a blanket, sipping wine was like a ‘check out’ in his brain. He didn’t know how to process it, didn’t quite know what to think of it, and had no reaction.
Phil
ippe didn’t panic, nor did Simona. Their relationship was built on so much intimacy that the comfort level seemed to be unshakable. She was actually irritated that he interrupted ‘their moment’.
“Hi, Andre.” Philippe had another sip of wine, kissed Simona on the lips, and got up.
“It’s my turn to tell you… ’WHEN YOU KNOW BETTER, YOU DO BETTER.’
And the answer to your question is...Yes, I would.”
❖ ❖ ❖
It was six in the morning. Simona’s biological clock woke her up, always a little before Francois opened his eyes. She brought him to bed, still too sleepy to nurse, but she wanted to finish feeding him and go downstairs. Andre was sleeping, and she was tiptoeing around. She did her morning routine of washing her face, brushing her teeth, and pulling her hair back. She put her workout clothes on and changed Francois.
He was touching Simona’s face with excitement. ”Clean, fed, ready to go?” He smiled in agreement, and Simona whispered. ”Shall we go, Munchkin?”
The kitchen was full of noises and smells. Everyone was up.
“What’s going on?” Simona was confused with all the early birds.
“We are playing golf this morning. Where is your man?” Philippe was in a great mood.
“Sleeping. Did you tell him last night?”
“I’m pretty sure. Go wake him up!” Philippe was gesturing with his head, pointing upstairs.
“I’m starving. You go wake him up.”
“Me?? Are you crazy? Not after last night.”
Simona threw stink eye in Philippe’s direction, although everyone else was operating on last night’s entrance story.
“Maybe Madame Bonnet?” Philippe was laughing.
“You’re evil.” Simona was smiling with a full mouth of delicious brioche.
“Come on, Francois. We will do it,” Hervé was taking baby Francois from Simona’s hands.
“Well, what can you sing, Francois? Let’s practice.”
The room was filled with curious, smiley faces while Hervé was trying different tones. Simona was sitting down, sipping hot coffee as Hervé and Francois were walking up the stairs.