Adirondack Audacity

by L. R. Smolarek

  “Pretty girlfriend.” He says, stopping to peer at me from under the brim of his hat. Thank you. “She needs some new clothes;; those are too big for her.” He pushes his hat back, cocking his head to the side for closer scrutiny. “I bet she has a pretty little shape under that sweatshirt, a little skinny for my taste, but not bad.”

  “What!” I squeak in outrage by his blunt but fairly accurate assessment.

  “Told you, gorgeous.” Vic murmurs in my ear. “We’ll get right on that, first thing this morning.” Vic answers Jonathan in a trance like tone.

  “Great, see you around Diago guy.” Jonathan knots the bathrobe tighter around his waist and continues his way down the beach. “And congratulations on the movie, hear it’s a hit.”

  “Was that Jonathan Hunter, the Jonathan Hunter?!” I ask in awe, never having seen a real celebrity outside of a concert or movie screen.

  “Yep,” Vic says quietly. “I meditate and Jonathan walks the beach with his cigar, we have a morning routine.”

  Really, I think to myself, you mediate and Jonathan Hunter walks the beach, ah, yeah, no big deal.

  Ten minutes later, as I start to doze in his arms, he whispers in my ear. “I hate to say this, but I have to go or I’ll be late for the studio appointment.” His voice muffled as his lips brush against the collar of the sweatshirt, his face buried in the folds of the hood.

  Stay, stay, stay, my mind and body scream, but reality forces me to say, “Sure, I’ll see if I can find us some breakfast while you dress.”

  “Will you stay until I get back?” he asks, pulling me to my feet. “Or should I have Ike drop you off at your daughter’s house?”

  “I think it’s best if I go back to Lani’s. She may be frantic with worry or more likely curiosity. I can shower and find some real clothes so Jonathan won’t be upset over my appearance.”

  “I don’t want to leave you.” His mouth opens over mine, gentle kisses, tasting my skin, I lean into him like a ship finding a safe port in a storm.

  “Viccc………..” The sonorous voice of Ike calls from the top of the staircase. “Come on, man, you got to get ready. Now! We’ll be late and there’ll be hell to pay. Vamonos!”

  “Shit! Told you he watches my back.”

  We sprint to the top of the stairs where Ike stands watching, an amused expression on his face. Dressed in faded jeans with a close fitting T-shirt, he looks showered, tan and very fit, his russet red hair glows in the morning sun. The Celtic warrior rises again. With a wry smile on his face, he tilts his head looking me up and down, arching an eyebrow he says, teasingly, “Nice duds.” Barely suppressing his laughter, he looks innocently at Vic, “Nothing fit from the bootie stash?” Vic flashes a warning look at Ike. I glare up at him, slapping his arm. “I told you it was a bimbo sleepover care package.” Ike erupts into laughter as he heads back into the house, calling over his shoulder, “Breakfast is on the island in the kitchen; car leaves in a half hour. Don’t be late.”

  A glance down at my clothes has me second guessing my decision to refuse the bimbo kit. I’m wearing what can only be called………thoroughly fucked attire….His oversized sweatshirt, cut off shorts and that just got laid look about my hair with cheeks reddened by his morning stubble. I think I have a hickey……..and I’m not wearing underwear. What happened to fastidious Ellen O’Connor….the bad girl in me gives a whoop and says………it’s about time!

  Chapter 31 The Invitation Lingering on the sidewalk, I watch the black limousine pull away from the curb. My lips still warm from our parting kiss. Barely out of sight; and I miss him.

  This morning he wore a well-tailored black suit accentuating the long lean lines of his body, the top button of his white shirt open, revealing a healthy expanse of sun-darkened skin, and a hint of black curls peeking through. The slim athletic build of his youth has given promise to a taller, more rugged man. Handsome doesn’t begin to describe him;; he is in my blood…I stand on the sidewalk, momentarily stunned, I love him. I’m in love with him….again…with the same intensity as when I was seventeen. My world turned upside down in less than twenty-four hours and spun backwards. What just happened to me?

  The front door of the house whips open and Lani explodes onto the front porch hopping up and down in her excitement.

  “Mom! Mom!” Lani’s voice cuts through my thoughts. I look across the lawn at her in a daze.

  “Ellie Jane!” Lani calls out concern flooding her voice. “Are you all right? Get in here before the neighbors start talking or the paparazzi shows up, you look weird.”

  I grimace, calling out to her, “Hi, Honey, I’m fine.” Slowly walking up the path to her house, gown in one hand, dragging the hem of his sweatpants in the other, I see Lani standing on the porch holding my shoe. My Manolo dangling from her hand. Oh boy…

  She asks in a mocking voice, “Well, well, well, missy, how did this end up on the front lawn this morning?” She holds the door open for me, her face lit up with glee like a Christmas tree wrapped in twinkle lights. “I think you have some explaining to do, young lady.”

  I catch a glimpse of my reflection in her hall mirror and freeze in horror. Because I still look like…….I just got…..well, you know. The bad girl in me says, Yahoo, that was fun! And the good girl in me has both hands clamped over her mouth with her eyes wide open in shock and horror. And truth be told, I’m hedging toward the bad girl. I’ve been living by the good girl rule book for a long time…and being with Vic has rekindled a bit of that teenage wild girl streak but …… oh, my God…look at me. The quick fix in the limo on the ride over did little to repair the damage. And now in front of my daughter…...I look like a woman who spent the night in wicked passion with a hot man…..and loved every minute of it. And again…I regret not taking that cute jogging suit or at least wearing the blue gown home, would you look at this outfit. It’s one thing to wear your boyfriend’s sweatshirt at seventeen, but at my age wearing your lover’s oversized sweatshirt and pants while carrying last night clothes says only one thing……....tramp.

  Me and my high minded morality did not think this through, in one of those jogging suits, I would look cute……like I had just came back from a run……instead of looking like I had a roll in the sheets with some guy and wore his clothes home……even if it is the truth. Sometimes righteous idealism is highly overrated.

  I turn away from the reflection in the mirror to the amused and delighted stares of Lani and Jason. Oh, how the tables have turned, they’re shaking with mirth, taking great satisfaction in shall we say, my delicate situation. “Mom, look at you.” Lani says, pointing a finger at me. “What are you wearing?”

  “Ummmm, just a sweatshirt and pants.” I lay the dress over the back of the couch, blowing a lock of errant hair out of my face. “Stylish, aren’t I?”

  “Nooooo,” my daughter barely able to conceal her merriment. “Just whose sweatpants are you wearing? Let me get this correct, my mother is wearing Esteban Diago’s sweatpants.”

  I nod mutely.

  “Boy, I’ve heard he was good, but to seduce my straight laced mother in less than twenty-four hours, wow, he must be something.” She sits on the edge of the couch hugging her knees, eyes agog. “So, Ellie Jane, what exactly happened to your clothes last night? You were properly attired when I last saw you.”

  “And by the way, how did you lose your shoe?” Jason holds up the shoe.

  Someone just shoot me now. I flop down on the couch, propping my feet up on the coffee table and look at the two of them with a condescending look. “Do the two of you really want to know?” I ask, shaking my head doubtfully.

  “Well, actually, yes,” Lani wiggles closer to me, hungry for any information. “Jason, honey, get us some coffee. I want to know everything but judging from your appearance, certain details can be omitted, use your motherly discretion, if you still have any.” And that statement sends her into peals of laughter.

  “I’m glad the two of you are having such a good time over this.�
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  “Well to be fair, Mom,” Jason tilts his head giving me the once over. “You do have that, “I’ve-been-having-agood-time-all-night-long-look” to you.” I snort. And why did I ever give him permission to call me, Mom.

  Shaking my head in exasperation, I burst into laughter, realizing the humor in my outrageous appearance. “You’re absolutely right. My God, look at me. I’m a disaster.”

  “Soooo, can you tell us a little bit about your evening?” Lani asks, her voice laced with curiosity. “Just leave out the Xrated portions.”

  “Weren’t you even a little bit worried about me?” I reprimand. “Some strange man whisks me off into the night?”

  “Well, we would have worried except for that nice man, Ike. He is Vic, Esteban, oh, whatever’s his name is, bodyguard and friend.”

  “Yes, I know Ike,” I nod wearily, stifling a yawn.

  “He called from the beach house to say where you were, and explained the connection between you and Vic. He also said I could call his cell phone anytime if I wanted to speak with you. And he gave us the address of Vic’s house. But he did add that he didn’t think the two of you wanted to be disturbed.”

  Terrific. I stretch out on the couch, so tired. It’s only nine thirty, but it feels like two in the morning. Stifling a yawn, exhaustion sets in as the excitement of the past twenty-four hours finally catches up with me. But the next words out of Lani’s mouth have me fully awake.

  “Aunt Kat called.” She says, looking smug.

  “What?” I sit up looking surprised. “Why would she call?”

  “Well,” Lani enthusiastically launches into the account of her phone conversation with Kat.

  “Apparently, she tried to call your cell-phone earlier this morning but you didn’t answer.” Lani looks innocently at the ceiling. “Ummm, I wonder why. Preoccupied, were you? So she called me asking about the premier and if you enjoyed your night out on the town.”

  “And what did you tell her?” My voice dripping with icicles as trepidation washes over me.

  “I said you had a lovely time.” Lani answers primly.

  “And?” I ask suspiciously.

  “She said she wanted to speak with you.”

  “And?”

  “I said you were unavailable.”

  “And?”

  “She asked why.”

  “And?”

  “Well, you know how persistent she can be at times.”

  “If you told her, she will tell that gossiping pack of jackals I call my girlfriends.” I groan. “And the whole town will know. Ohhhhh……”

  “Oh, some of them were with her.”

  “It just gets better and better.” I whisper, massaging my temple where a dull pain has grown into a full-blown headache.

  “I said you were not home.”

  “And?” I ask faintly, knowing fully well how the conversation had gone.

  “I said you ran into an old boyfriend and never came home last night.”

  “You didn’t tell her who it was, did you?”

  “No, I know his identity needs to be kept quiet.”

  “And she let it go at that?” I can’t imagine what Kat and Emi Jo’s reaction will be when they learn the old boyfriend is Vic. But that’s one piece of information I want to deliver in person, just to see the expression on their faces.

  “Yes, she didn’t care who it was, she just started howling with laughter. Emi Jo was with her. I heard her voice in the background.” Lani pauses for effect, and raises her voice several octaves, imitating Emi Jo’s falsetto voice. “Did she use the boots? She wanted to know something about if you used your boots.”

  “The boots?” I ask weakly, feeling faint.

  “You know the little pink ones.” She lowers her voice. “They wanted to know if you packed them in that pretty little evening purse you took last night? What kind of boots were they talking about, Mom?” Lani looks positively devilish. “And by the way Trey called, remember your son?”

  God only knows what she told him………

  …

  The repeated ringing of a doorbell wakes me from my nap. My slumber plagued by feelings repressed in the past and dormant, now sprung to life in the limitless boundaries of dreams. My body alive in ways I thought forgotten. Tossing back the restrictive sheets; I find his sweatshirt lying on the floor next to the bed. It wasn’t a dream. A glance at the clock on the nightstand shows it’s early afternoon…….....he said his meeting would last until late in the day. Can I wait that long?

  Feeling like a high school girl with an adolescent crush, I pull on a pair of jeans, jeans long grown old and comfortable, frayed in a manner now considered chic, jeans carelessly tossed on a chair in the haste of dressing less than twenty four hours ago. As I rub the worn material, I feel my life tumbling away, no longer straightforward and simple. I’ve always prided myself on being prepared, planning for the unexpected, having goals, knowing where my life is going. But this chance meeting with Vic causes the world as I know it to take an abrupt turn to a place I don’t know or understand. Ordinary moms don’t fall in love with movie stars. The realities are worlds apart.

  Mothers warn their daughters about men like Vic; sensual, indecently handsome, full of dark passions. My love for him burned me once, and yet again, I’m lured to those smoldering fires burning deep within him. “Mom, come here!” As I walk down the staircase, Lani swings her head around the doorsill of the outside patio motioning impatiently for me to join her. “Look what just came for you.”

  On a table underneath a striped awning stands a huge vase of black-eyed Susans. Next to the vase are two boxes wrapped in exquisite buttery yellow satin paper, topped with a cascade of ribbons in matching stripes and polkadots. The wrapping complements the flowers in the vase. “Oh, how beautiful,” I exclaim, reaching out to touch the yellow flower petals. “Where did these come from?” “Duh, Mom! How long have you been out of the dating circle?” She shakes her head in exasperation. “Your loverrrrr!” She says in an exaggerated tone. “Oh,” I reach for the card stuck in the profusion of flowers. “It has been so long since I’ve received flowers from anyone. When we were first married your father sent them on Valentine’s Day or our anniversary, and then as money got tight when I was home raising you kids, I told him not to bother.”

  “These are just beautiful,” I bend down to breathe in their fragrance and come up disappointed. “I forgot black-eyed Susans don’t have much smell. But it looks like a mountain meadow in a vase, doesn’t it.”

  “Why black-eyed Susans?” Lani asks mystified. “I could understand if your name was Susan.”

  A slow fluttering of remembrance tugs at the recesses of my mind, opening a flood gate of memories. A mountain meadow blanketed in black-eyed Susans.

  “Oh, my God, he can’t possibly have remembered that, could he?” I whisper, sliding the card from its diminutive envelope. Written in his bold script are the words, My Daisy girl, Remember the meadow of black-eyed Susans on Wolf Mountain……..to many more afternoons of loving you. Always, Vic.

  Plucking a flower from the vase, I stare into the dark center and remember that hot August afternoon where we made love under the late summer sky, blanketed in a field of daisies. Drunk on love, sun, and cheap beer. It was the last time we were together and happy. I bite my lip at the bittersweet memory.

  “Mom, are you okay?” Lani asks, “Flowers are supposed to make you happy, not sad.”

  “They do, sweetie, they do.” I say with a shaky laugh holding the card close to my heart. “I can’t believe he remembered that day. It was so long ago.”

  “So, can you tell me or is it private?”

  “It was last day of camp before we were to go home,” I say with a faraway look in my eyes. “We took off for a picnic on a nearby mountain. It was a beautiful sunny August afternoon. It was the last good memory I have of him.”

  “It’s so romantic he remembered the day and sent the exact flowers. What does the card say?” I silently hand the
card to her.

  “Wow,” Lani says looking impressed. “I can’t wait to see what the boxes hold.” She expectantly pushes a box in my direction causing me to smile at her impatience.

  I slowly ease the ribbons from the package taking care not to destroy the pretty curls and bows. Once open, the box reveals a pair of delicate silver shoes with the name Monolo Blahnik written down the instep.

  “Oh, my God,” Lani gasps. “Those are Monolo’s ………Monolo Blahnik’s! Worth, like a thousand dollars. I didn’t tell you, the ones you had on last night were fake, made up for the costume department. The real ones never leave the department.”

  I risked my life for fake shoes!!

  I hold the exquisite shoe in my hand, and watch it shimmer in the sunlight, and trace the delicate straps with my finger. “These are gorgeous,” I say, my voice thick with reverence. “It looks like the one I lost last night. How did he find ones so closely matched?”

  “Mom, there’s a note.” Lani points at the box, barely able to contain her excitement. “I can’t wait to hear what this one has to say.”

  I slide the card out of the yellow envelope and read:

  Ella, Ella, my mia bella, my Cinderella,

  How appropriate you lost a shoe last night. I’m sorry Prince Charming was unable to return the original one but please accept this humble pair as a replacement. I can’t wait to see you tonight.

  Always yours, Vic “ Oh, my,” I silently hand the card over to Lani. I’ve heard of being swept off your feet, I thought it was a figure of speech, until now. I couldn’t find my feet if I wanted too. I’m not of this world, I feel like I’m walking on clouds.

  Lani looks over at me, her eyes huge saucers in her face as she shakes the card in front of my face. “This guy is good, real good.”

  “ Pinch me. No seriously, pinch me, I must be dreaming. This kind of thing doesn’t happen to real people.”

  “Pinch me first,” Lani says. “Most people don’t even know people this kind of thing happens too.”

  “I’m almost afraid to open the last box. This is already too much.” I pick up the package and gently shake, the motion reveals no clues. “I can’t wait, the suspense is killing me.” I raise my eyebrows in delicious anticipation.