by Marten, Mimi
“Not much. I’m really sorry, Andre.”
“I’m afraid I exhausted sorry, Moni. I really fucked up this time.”
“Stick to the truth. That’s all you can do right now. No bullshit is going to save you.”
“Moni, I love her.”
“I know. Now, you just try to get her to wait and hear you out. Call her up.”
“Thank you, Moni.”
Andre was in a taxi, giving instructions to the driver to go as fast as he could. Squeezing his phone in his sweaty palms, he dialed her number. It rang, but it went into voicemail.
“Blondie, I’m on my way to the airport. Could you just wait please? Please!”
Then he texted her…’PPP’..., their code for Pretty, Pretty Please.
❖ ❖ ❖
Adam arrived first. He pleaded with the desk person to check names and the morning flights. Andre arrived eight minutes later, out of breath. Adam didn’t greet him. All he could muster was to barely look at him. He wasn’t important right now. They needed to find HER.
“Ok, could you check Adamec? Andree? Hmmm, maybe even Zatopek?”
“It’s Bouchard,” Andre bellowed from behind.
“Who is Bouchard? She couldn’t have an alias.”
Andre didn’t have the patience to explain. He was staring at the front desk lady with encouragement.
“Philippe Bouchard, please.”
She was getting nervous. She felt like they were ready to jump over the counter any second.
“Yes, his plane landed at 5:15 AM this morning. And then it left at 6 o’clock.”
“That makes no sense. Are you sure?” Andre looked at her incredulously.
“Yes, sir.”
“That means she is still here,” Andre sighed.
“Well, that is a good news, I guess,” Adam said.
“She is bluffing. She just wants to punish me.”
Andre almost looked relieved. Adam looked at him in disbelief.
“You think this is a fucking game?”
Andre felt stupid and embarrassed. This was an awkward, unusual position to be in with his younger brother. They finally stepped away from the desk. Adam thanked the lady who was relieved to see their backs. They walked outside together.
The private planes were a fascinating scene, and their minds wondered off for a minute. The little planes were a symbol of elegance, and a little mystery, but also a definition of wealth, the announcement of ‘You made it’ to the world. A world that many took for granted. A world that should be sacred and appreciated. Sadly, only a few did.
A phone beeped. They both looked at their phones. It was Andre’s, and it was from Blondie. He was so nervous that he had to punch the password twice to open it. Adam was standing over him with anticipation. It was a hotel name, a room number, and nothing else. They both looked at each other and started to run to the car.
“Give me the keys. I will drive.”
“I have three children. You are a lunatic. No way, Joseeee!”
❖ ❖ ❖
The minute Simona got into the car it was clear to Philippe that she had used up her tank. She was on zero again.
I should have gotten the stretch limo, not this! Maybe we can switch it on the way…
“Excuse me, driver. Can we switch this limo for the stretch one?”
“Right now? Let me check for you, sir.”
“What are you doing, Philippe?”
“I want you to sleep. And I don’t think you will be comfortable on just three seats.”
“This is totally fine. I don’t need more room. This is more than enough. Time is of the essence here.”
It was one of the limo cars with three seats on each side, facing each other.
“Alright, alright,” Philippe relented. “Lie down. Here is your pillow.”
He covered her with a blanket and bent down to kiss her when he noticed her silent tears. He wiped them off and hugged her. She was shivering, so he took his jacket off and covered her some more. Then he turned to Francois.
“Mama is going to sleep. You are all mine, mister. Brace yourself! I got games, and you are going down!”
“Computer?”
Francois’ eyes were popping out of his sockets with excitement. Philippe was his Godfather, and he had been spoiling him rotten. As contraband, he bought him an IPAD, an Iphone, and all the other gadgets he wasn’t allowed at home. He always had them with him, including the headphones.
“Philippe?”
“Yes, what do you need?”
“Which airport?”
“Munich. It’s at least 3-4 hours. Sleep.”
❖ ❖ ❖
They parked in front of the Alchymist, a boutique five star hotel just below the Prague Castle. Actually, it was more like pulling in with squeaking breaks as they jumped out of the car and ran inside. They didn’t see any valet personnel, and the front desk lady was busy. Adam was looking for somebody to give the keys to. Andre ran up the stairs looking for number 21. It was the last room, all the way at the end, with massive double doors. It looked like an entry to a penthouse.
Andre stopped in front of the door to catch his breath and calm his nerves. While standing there, Adam came up. Andre finally got the courage to knock. The doors pushed open, and they exchanged worried looks. Neither of them expected what they walked into.
It was a beautiful room at the top of the building, overlooking the Old Prague. The giant windows made the view nothing short of spectacular. The bed was covered in orange and yellow rose petals, and two bathrobes were on the edge of the bed. Andre’s favorite Gosset Champagne was sitting in a melted ice bucket. Candles were all around the windows, tables, and the floor.
Adam checked the bathroom, the closet, and came back to the room. She was gone. He sat down, absentmindedly looking around the room.
“How do you do it?” Adam asked.
“What? Do what?”
“Seriously, how do you do it? But most importantly, how the hell do you deserve it?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“What am I talking about? I’m talking about this!”
Adam was turning around with arms spread out. Then he walked over to the bed and grabbed a handful of petals with both hands, smelled it, closed his eyes for a second.
“All of this. How do you deserve this, asshole?”
Andre was wondering if it was fast becoming his label or a nickname. But Adam wasn’t done. Not even close. He was just getting started.
“What is so special about you? That someone loves you this much! To fly 10 hours across the Atlantic Ocean to surprise you, and make all of this happen. I mean… all of THIS! Rose petals?? Your favorite champagne? How is it that it never, EVER happened to me?!!! No woman ever did that for me! I have never gotten anything like this. Are you comprehending what I am saying?”
Andre wanted to say that the only woman his brother had ever been with in his adult life was Monique. He didn’t. He deserved this. And everything that came with it.
The bed was untouched. Andre walked straight to the window and the lounger. This would have been her spot. He grabbed the blanket and smelled her. Not her perfume, but HER. A mixture of shampoo, lotion, and her skin. It was always an aphrodisiac for him. He fell down on the sofa, holding the blanket like a precious possession, close to his face. He was staring outside, thinking… This is what Blondie was looking at, a few hours ago.
And now? Everything about my life is about her. Her smell, her laugh, her touch, her idioms, expressions, childishness, bitchiness, stubbornness. I can’t live without any of it! My life is her…
“I can’t live without her.”
“Well, congratulation on that discovery.”
Adam’s sarcasm and anger started irritating Andre.
“I get that you are pissed with me. I’m pissed with me, too. But how is this helping the situation?!”
“Helping the situation? You must be fucking kidding me! I’m not trying to help you, cove
r for you, or any other brotherhood bullshit!”
“So what are you doing here?”
“I’m trying to save your ass, beg her to reconsider, and hear you out!”
“What do you mean by hearing me out? I’m going to tell the truth. I’m not going to lie.”
“You are still not getting it. You don’t get the chance to say either.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“She said...”
Adam wasn’t sure if it was a good idea… They were still hoping to find her. The window was closing, and the chances of catching up with her were vanishing with every minute.
“She is gone, Andre...”
“What did she say?”
“She said she doesn’t want to hear it...”
“Typical her. Knows it all. Lightening speed. Action. Gone! What does she know? How does she know? She jumps to conclusions. Isn’t it... ‘innocent until proven guilty?’”
“Fine, asshole! You wanna talk? Confess? Innocent? You have fucking GUILTY written all over your face! She doesn’t want to hear it, but I do now! Try me!”
“Tell you what? Confess my sins? What are you? My angry priest now?”
“I wanna know! How does that happen? How do you turn it off? For people who are miserable in their relationship, neglected, craving attention, I get it. But you? You just said you have the woman that you can’t live without. You have a son that you already got a second chance with. And the whole package is too good to be true. You have money, independence, an amazing son, a woman that loves you and doesn’t even make you marry her. So please, enlighten me. How the fuck does that happen?!”
“You wouldn’t understand...”
“I wouldn’t understand? Ok, let me try then. There is some chick that is flirting with you all night. You get your ego boost, and then what? Then you take her home, she is all over you, takes your pants off, gives you a blow job out of this world, and you do what? Except turning your phone off, you turn your brain and conscience off, too?! Please, explain that to me!” Adam was raising his voice throughout his speech, but the last question was just pure old shouting.
“Stop it. You wouldn’t understand. And what do you care anyway?”
Andre regretted that sentence immediately, but it was too late. It took Adam over the edge.
“What do I care??!!! I care about you! I care about your son. And I care about Simona! And all I have been doing is holding myself together not to beat the crap out of you!”
Adam grabbed his shirt and threw Andre against the wall. Andre pushed back; Adam knocked him on the ground. Andre threw the first punch, and Adam hit him back in self defense. Andre backed up with his hands up.
“Ok, ok, stop!”
Neither of them remembered if they had ever had a fist fight as kids. It was a first as adults. Adam was still fuming. Andre still didn’t understand the level of his fury.
“I wouldn’t understand? Why? Because I don’t know shit? Because you had God knows how many women, and I didn’t?”
“Something like that...”
“I know how you look at me. I know what you think. I live in my naive bubble. How I missed out. Maybe.. But I was perfectly happy to live in my bubble forever. I never wanted to see this.”
“See what?”
“The pain! The pain in her eyes. Out of her tiny body and giant soul. That pain killed me! And I wasn’t even the source of it. I was just an innocent bystander.”
Andre finally started to get the picture and understand why Adam was so upset.
“I could have lived naive forever without seeing THAT. I can’t get her eyes out of my head. And I can’t shake the pain from her shivering body when I hugged her. But most of all… I believed her.”
“Believed what?”
“What she said.”
“What the fuck did she say? You are freaking me out.”
“I asked her where she was going…”
“And??!”
“She said… ‘where he will NEVER find me.’”
Silence. The deadly killer, again. It’s the worst noise when your world is collapsing. It’s the painful, invisible knife. The excruciating stabs. The paralyzing brain. Silence. The worst of it all.
You want to scream, but the voice is gone. You want to move, but your cerebellum has malfunctioned. And then it becomes clear. It’s not your cortex or your cerebellum. It’s the whole cerebrum, your whole brain that was just zapped and affected your whole being. Your heart skipped a beat, your knees buckled, and you are numb.
The phone rang. They ignored it first, but then Adam looked at his phone. It was Monique.
“Hi. Anything?”
“No.”
“You didn’t catch her?”
“No.”
“Is Andre with you?”
“Yes.”
“Come home.”
“Okay.”
Adam looked around the room one last time...
“Let’s go home. I want to hug my wife and tell her how much I love her. And one day, I will bring her to a room like this for her to see it, too.”
Andre looked around the room, too, but with a completely different feeling. How much he wished he would have been there last night to touch and kiss Simona by the candle light, overlooking the history of Hundred-Spired Prague, and making his own. Cherishing his own little world, and appreciating his happiness.
“Let’s go!” took him out of his daydreaming. He grabbed the blanket, and walked out of the room behind his ‘little’ brother, wiping blood off his lip.
❖ ❖ ❖
Munich was an amazing airport. Francois was fascinated with all the planes. The driver needed directions to go to the private jets terminal which irritated Philippe somewhat. He made a mental note to appreciate his private chauffeurs back home and to praise them more often.
Simona was fully asleep, so he decided not to wake her. He took Francois and went out to the terminal to check in. He paid the clerk to let him drive all the way to his plane. Francois was up in the plane, bouncing off, excited.
“Bonjour, Raphael!”
“Well, bonjour, Francois. Would you like to wear my hat today?”
“Yes, yes, AAAAAAAAA! I mean, yes please.”
Raphael couldn’t help it. He was in love with this kid. He squeezed him and gave him his hat. Francois was still jumping, proudly wearing his new pilot hat.
“Raphael?”
“Yes?”
“Are we ready for …hmmm…”
“Take off?”
“Yes. That’s it!”
“Not yet, silly monkey. Our passengers are not here, and you are not in your seat yet either.”
“I want to sit in the cabin.”
“You mean pilot cockpit?”
“Yes. And I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“Haha. Not yet. Still too little, maybe in a couple of years.”
Raphael was smiling, but getting sidetracked. He didn’t notice Philippe carrying Simona until he was almost inside.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, pardon me.”
“No worries. Just get the door, please.”
Raphael ran to open the door to the private bedroom in the back. Philippe put her down gently. Simona opened her eyes.
“Francois?”
“He is fine. Fed and happy. I got it. Trust me.”
“Merci.”
“Fais de beaux rêves…”
He took her shoes off and covered her with a blanket. He thought about making her drink something, but she passed out again.
❖ ❖ ❖
The drive was silent. They both went into their own worlds, still processing the scene.
Adam parked, and looked at Andre. Andre looked devastated, but he still couldn’t find any empathy for his older brother. Mateas ran to the car.
“Andre! Simona was here! She brought breakfast. It was delicious. We still have some left. Would you like some? Are we still going to grandma’s for lunch? I wanted to take Fran
cois. Are they coming back?”
Andre stopped counting the sentences. It was too fast, too much. He went over and gave him a hug. Adam finally came to the rescue.
“Mateas. Leave Andre alone for a moment. Go play. We will still go to see grandma. Give us some time that Andre can have breakfast, ok?”
Monique opened the door with open arms, and Andre was happy to receive some love finally. She hugged him in silence, then pulled away.
“Well, what now?”
“Nothing.” Adam was taking his jacket off, walking into the bathroom.
“Isn’t there some legal way? Can she do this? Doesn’t she need your signature or something?”
Andre stopped his pity party, and his brain regained enough consciousness to process Monique’s questions.
“You may be onto something.”
“Well, isn’t this a kidnaping?”
“Moni, are you nuts?! Simona had every right to do it.”
“Well, did she? Maybe not.”
“With his procrastination and speed, I would be surprised if he even legalized him as his son.” Adam continued his jabs.
All eyes were on Andre who was just grabbing his head in disbelief.
“You see? Unbelievable!”
“Adam, stop it!” Monique frowned at her husband. “You don’t kick someone when they are already down.”
“Are you listening to yourself? What side are you on? His side? How is that?”
“I’m on Francois’ side.”
“Well, his mother has done right by Francois all his life. She made sacrifices, gave him love, and raised him well. So what is your problem with Simona?”
“I don’t have a problem with Simona. I just wish she would give him a chance to explain.”
“Explain what? Another round of ‘Sorry, I fucked up, and I don’t really know why or how?’”
“Adam, stop it!”
“NO, you know what? You have not seen what I have seen. If your loyalty is to Francois, then you have a very funny way of showing it.”
“That’s not fair either.”
“Is your loyalty to Andre? Just say it. It’s ok. Don’t play politically correct for crying out loud!”