The first time that I`ve met Lara I was on the terrace of the “Park Hotel”, surrounded by the delicate smell of fresh dahlias and the gentle light of the Japanese lamps.
It was a close party, held in the honor of our youngest artist, Julien Lacroix, that had just published his long awaited second novel, that would add up to an encouraging list of successes. Julien was a young man of many talents – a successful novelist and portraitist, he managed to trap the audience`s confidence in matters of casual writing for years to come. His publishers – and my employers – showed their gratitude in the shape of a pleasant bourgeois event placed in a mid-summer evening at Park Hotel (renowned locally for its refined taste and comforting discretion).
It was way past midnight and we were only a handful of people left, still reluctant on calling it a night, and still eager to fill our lungs with the fresh, flower-like tasting air. The ambience and the company were both soothing my need to socialize, since it must`ve been weeks already, that I had spent locked in my solitary office, working on my own complicated project that nearly sucked me dry and left me trapped for too long in my very personal world of chimeras (that I was yet again using, like a frantic gold digger, in order to bring to light some of my salty stories).
Having a glass of Porto at Park Hotel, with Julien on my left and Sebastien on my right, was thus, the perfect ending of months of hard work. I noticed Lara sitting at the table next to us in an absolute charming outfit and with a striking posture of delicate beauty, her eyes sipping every word of the mellow conversation. She had on a white little dress matched with discreet amber-colored earrings and the tinniest of necklaces that subtly underlined her noble neckline. Everything about her had a fresh flavor of innocence and I couldn`t help but noticing the immediate effect she had over me. My eyes were glued on her every move, and I quickly came to realize that I was missing out on some of Julien`s finest jokes, since both him and Sebastien appeared to be awaiting my reaction for some time, bemused in front of my unusual silence – it was well known in our exclusive circle of friends that I was one of Julien`s strongest supporters when it came down to telling heartily jokes.
I turned my eyes from Lara`s table and, meeting Julien`s inquisitive look I suddenly blushed:
“You`ll have to excuse me for missing out on your conversation, but I seem to be absolutely mesmerized by the graceful presence seated at the neighboring table” – I said, in my defense.
Sebastien gave me a compassionate look as if to say “I had been quite staring at her for minutes, myself” and Julien laughed, with his irresistible boyish laughter, and then added:
“Oh, Lara, she seems to be quite dashing tonight, isn`t she? But I never would`ve thought she would attract the attention of such an astute cynic as yourself, Winona. I`m curious, what did she do to catch your critical eye?”
“I don`t believe she did anything in particular, I replied, it`s just that her whole being seems to be the expression of innocent joy tonight. She`s brighter than our charming patio lights…”
“Now that you`ve mentioned it…” said Julien who was now, as I was just minutes ago, indecently staring in Lara`s direction. “Odd girl this one”, he added just as I was about to say I even fancied the sound of her name.
“Who is she again?” Asked Sebastien, trying not to look too interested.
“The daughter of a very old family-friend – M. Johnson. Back in the U.K., when I was just a wee-high boy, my father and M. Johnson used to be business associates. That particular affair turned rather bitter in a few years, but my father, with his sharp financial instincts, warned old M. Johnson on time, and they both got out of it clean. They stayed friends ever since. In fact, M. Johnson and a much younger Lara were quite a common presence at our family dinners back then. We used to be good friends, Lara and me, but then our dreams separated us – I went to Paris to study art, and she left for the U.S. to become a busy American lawyer. I remember her saying she couldn`t possibly bear to study law in Europe – she was strongly convinced that the grass was greener on the other side.”
“What happened to Miss Johnson?” I asked, still unable to turn my head from Lara.
“Yeah, was she as charming as her daughter?” added Sebastien.
“I wouldn`t know, nor would I be able to tell her story – all I recall is Lara and M. Johnson, but as far as I know, there was never a Miss Johnson in sight.”
“How interesting… you mentioned she was an “odd one”, what makes you say that? At first I was intrigued by her unique beauty, and now I found myself wanting to know more about her past and her personality – unable to find out why my interest was all of the sudden so elevated, I decided to blame it on the glasses of Porto I indulged myself with, that night.
Julien looked at me in a funny way and took his time before proceeding with his story. In response, I gave him a warm, encouraging smile – as to reassure him that cheap gossip never really was my game.
“Well the thing is that she always pretty much kept to herself… and she would always reserve the privilege of taking the oddest decisions at the most peculiar of times… like her departure to Washington… or her arrival here today… in any case, we shouldn`t just stand here talking about the poor girl, Come!, let me introduce you guys.” The three of us stood up and went to Lara`s table, where Julien exchanged a few words with her companions, then introduced Sebastien and me as “very dear friends from the old continent.”
By the end of the night, I was still puzzled by the strange familiarity between Lara and Julien – that seemed to be that of two lovers, rather than two close friends – and I still was a bit uncertain on what Julien meant when he said she was an “odd one”.
***
A week later, as I was back at the office, I still couldn`t really shake the memory of Lara`s dashing presence. I wanted to know more about her, but it seemed we had rather different paths and circles of friends and, other than Julien, there were very few things tying me up to this girl – I was in the bohemian world of European publishers, she was in the very dynamic world of American lawyers. I lived in France, and I was pretty addicted to my travelling vocation – I would spend most of my days in Belgium or Poland, bringing together elusive sponsors with bohemian writers – my home was more or less like a hotel room, my life was in suitcases most of the time and my cat was spending more time with my friends than with me… as for my fridge, it held very little proof of the presence of food.
And Lara… Lara was here on vacation – she was one of those phantomlike figures that would be here today and gone the next day… like a client with whom I failed to close a contract, or one of my numerous European friends, that would visit for a brief period of time and then quickly dive back in their busy lives elsewhere… I sighed and I took a sip from my coffee – I realized I wasn`t going to be of much use at the office that day – the last two months were long and highly demanding and I was trapped between my personal projects and those of the publishing company I was so faithfully serving for over three years now. I desperately needed a break – this whole rollercoaster of deception mixed with sudden peaks of unexpected editorial successes was wearing me down… “How can a lawyer inspire so much confidence?” – clearly my mind was not at the document I had to correct that day… my fingers started pensively strolling up and down the coffee cup, and a strong scent of dahlias invaded my nostrils. I decided to take a small break – verify my e-mails, browse through my packed agenda, see the news for today or maybe check my Facebook profile – “after a week, someone had to update a comment or a photo – we are all very busy bees, but I am sure there was enough time for at least a few moments of procrastination…” – I opened my Facebook page – events invitations were pending and people were, as always, asking when would I be stopping by… Julien had updated a few photos from the party, but none were with Lara… then there were pictures with smiling guests, or plastered guests, and even tagged photos of me – “yes, I have to agree – I didn`t find the dress too bad myself…” – still no pictures of Lara, it was like she hadn`t been there at all… “Hmmm”. I logged off, decided to give it one last try and checked my e-mails – “work, work, potential work… more work…” like every summer, collaboration proposals were abundant. Usually their authors would contact me via my professional e-mail, but every now and then, during the “creative seasons” as I liked to call them (summer and, oddly enough, mid-winter), these proposals would somehow find their way into my personal e-mail as well – “it is not a myth but a fact” I thought, “your every day average Joe becomes a writer each year between May and August…” But wait! What`s this? I had an interesting message from a stranger, carefully hid under the piles of work proposals – the subject caught my eye just as I was about to hit the “Sign Out” button. It said “Julien never seizes to surprise me!…” and the sender was jl@aol.com – “Could it be her? Could it really be… but it makes so little sense… we never exchanged contact details at the party… maybe Julien gave away my e-mail address?”
Quite intrigued, I opened the message:
“Dear Winona,
I am no stranger to Julien`s exquisite taste in women, but I believe it is safe to say that this time he had outdone himself.
I must say that the long time we were separated paid off rather nicely for him, as it appears he turned into quite an interesting man. Certainly, he is no longer the shy, innocent boy I used to share idealistic white-nights with, but rather a very confident author that found his way to success and appears to be blessed with an endless, vivid inspiration. If I wouldn`t have been so brotherly in love with him as I am, I would probably envy him right about now. Seven or eight years ago, there were no signs of this future development, but rather clear proofs of a bohemian behavior that managed to direly worry me quite often.The Julien I see today looks very little like the person I used to know. I`ve heard about this gradual positive change, but I wasn`t too convinced…I simply had to see it with my own eyes.
When I received the invitation to his party, I didn`t needed to be persuaded to come, I was so eager to see my childhood friend turn into such a successful man. But after being there, I couldn`t help but wonder if this whole transformation was his sole merit or if in fact, part of it had something to do with your charming, electric even, presence. I remember Julien to be rather chameleonic in character so I took the liberty of assuming, with the risk of being wrong of course, that part of Julien`s new found confidence comes in fact from you and your delicate protection.
I beg of you not to hold this message against me, as I know it bruises social conveniences. I understand that not only is the lecture of it taking quite a bit of your time, but the nature of it must seem a bit strange… I assure you that if I would have a bit of time on my hands, I would dedicate it solely to persuading you into accepting my gratitude for your constant and devoted support to my dearest – and probably my only – friend. But since my vacation is unfortunately running short, and pressing matters await my arrival back home I took the liberty of jumping over these tedious conveniences and addressing you this way, hoping that you would understand and agree to join me for a coffee in the remaining time I still have to spend in your delightful city.
Looking forward for a positive reply,
L.J. “
I couldn`t believe my own eyes! I had to read the message twice before I could make sense of its meaning, and an electric shiver tingling up and down my spine left me unable to decently do my work for the rest of the day – my cynical mind was trying to see through the words, as if the message offered some kind of a window to this clearly interesting, rather eccentric soul.
I carefully analyzed the style of the message, as if I was facing a newcomer`s manuscript – it was frank, demanding, obviously spontaneous although a bit too fancy – “It`s an e-mail Winona, a simple message, for God`s sake, it`s not like she drafted it first!” – the voice of my conscience kept ringing every now and then in my head, trying to put to rest my hectic enthusiasm. “…maybe a tad arrogant? It could be, since this girl is a perfect stranger… but then again, remembering her sweet presence, I can`t really add it up with an arrogant behavior…so, what`s the catch?”
I analyzed the content – she was clearly stating that Julien was my protégé … was that really the case? I inquired my conscience, but I couldn`t find a simple answer… ever since Martin`s death five years ago, I buried myself in work and became known for being rather distant. Truth be told, I was petrified at the idea of any kind of interaction outside convenient limits – I had one or two brief flings, but nothing too serious, and I didn`t show any clear desire for any kind of shared affection. My excuse was that Martin had been my only serious relationship – it lasted for ten years and started out in high school. He had been the only man I could conceive to be around, the only person I looked up to… after his death I was crushed. I closed-up, believing – at thirty – that affection was reserved to the young lucky ones. In my audacity I even believed that since a man of his virtue was nearly impossible to find, it wasn`t worth the trouble of seeking anyone else… I also harbored a strong sense of guilt, thinking that if anyone else should enter my life, it would be similar to betraying the only man I ever believed in and dishonoring his memory… Brief, I was experiencing grief… and probably still am. But our society has so very little time for grief as it is, and I realized fast that if I don`t find a constructive way of dealing with it, of somehow putting this overwhelming feeling to good use, I would risk committing a social suicide. I was failing at work; I was reckless with my friends and my life… I was ignoring all their little alarm signals or comforting ways, and the only thing I was into was my fight with an abyssal, pitch-black, depression.
I did that for about a year that seemed the longest year in my life. Of course, as a result, I lost my job, my confidence, and I contracted some debts… I even lost some frivolous friends. Then I started seeing the light again. Little by little, as the necessity to act grabbed me by the neck and pulled me up, my survival instinct woke-up. I realized that as saddening as it was, Martin was gone but I was still here. I realized I still have very few things to lose – nothing was in fact there, but that nothing was mine, and I had a duty to turn it into something. I started looking for a new job – but this time I wanted a job I would enjoy – I needed a purpose, a good battle to fight, anything to make me wake-up in the morning. I wanted something new – I was horrified at the idea of spending again nine hours a day locked in a small office, performing tedious tasks. I wanted to do something different – it didn`t really matter where – as long as I had a cause to fight for and as long as a good purpose was there to keep me busy. Since every day already felt like I was battling for my own life, a demanding job seemed like just the thing I would be into. “Work! Yes, work, to chase the ghosts away – to let me sleep at night”.
I was lucky enough and my lunatic enthusiasm caught the eye of an emerging publishing company in Paris. They interviewed me and decided to give it a go, and ever since, my whole life had gradually changed. I loved what I was doing, finding not only the new talents, but also sponsors or publications… it was a diverse job and I had to travel a lot. Traveling quickly scattered the last remaining friends of my previous life, but new ones appeared. And they were convenient too – always busy (like me), always traveling (like me), always fighting for one cause or another, always trying to stay as positive as possible.
Two years back, on my birthday, one of these new found friends gave me a cat – a white, Burmese cat, that I accepted with endless reserves – “what will I do with a cat? Do I look like a cat person? What if she dies in some weird ridiculous way while I am on a business trip? I overwhelmed my friend with silly, reluctant questions. But it seemed her mind couldn`t be changed – “She`s yours, she`s splendid and she cannot be taken back – make it work.” And so I did, but it was only then that I realized how much I had made a vocation out of my isolation and how difficult it became to make room for any kind of change in my life. I started thinking that maybe I overdid it a bit in terms of running away from bitterness and dark places and ended up happily jumping from one difficult assignment to the next, without even taking the time to breathe. The cat was there to show me that life could be just as enjoyable with less fuss as well.
Slowly, I started making time in my busy agenda for myself and my new friends. I even got close to some of the new authors that I was already representing for years. That`s how I met Julien. About two years ago I received a collaboration offer – come to think of it now, it did seem a bit shy, coming from an author that was recommended by his previous collaborators as “able to make any publisher`s sales sky-rocket within a week”. At the time, I thought his modest approach was a sign of good manners and not of shyness. It didn`t really matter anyway – the manuscript attached to the contract turned out to be gold – after a brief overview it went straight to the shelves of the fanciest boutiques and bookstores in Paris, and translations for Europe quickly became a must.
My agency started representing him and thrived in the shadow of his success. We had signed him up so far for his first novel, for various plays that met instant public success and for his second novel – his best-seller so far. I took upon myself to find him a secondary agency for his artistic creations – he happened to be a very good portraitist as well.
I was bewildered by his seemingly effortless manner of writing and his continuous inspiration and, truth be told, I did favor him amongst our collaborators. He introduced me to a small group of friends, all very talented, and all delightful to be around. I dedicated a significant amount of time to this group in my short “domestic” arrivals back in Paris. But I never believed I would be an influence over him in any way – I actually believed the contrary… and from here to imply more… I considered that far-fetched as well.
Julien was younger than me – young enough to show, that is. In my eyes, a seven years difference was enough to be a barrier. And he was so obviously part of such a different generation. For me, traveling was a secondary existence built to serve a purpose – to help me forget, to help me survive. For Julien and his friends, it was a natural way of being. To be in one country today and in a different one in the next pose no serious problems to any of them. They were all fluent in at least four languages and they were up to date with the internal situation of almost all the countries in Europe, including a few obscure ones, like Romania or Bulgaria.
In the rare moments in which they would be trivially gossiping, it would be about international, across countries borders affairs that involved two (or more) actors of mixed origins. They so clearly belonged to a European generation that was still a fairytale when I was a child.
Given the odds, I never really saw myself as anything other than an outsider privileged to part-take in their diverse lives. I never believed myself to be more, that is why, due to this alleged influence over Julien, Lara`s message was even more disturbing. I was struggling to find the appropriate reply. I had no doubt that meeting her for a coffee would be highly pleasant, but my astute intuition was telling me I should prepare for an even bigger surprise – so as a result, I was anxious about the possible topics of our conversations, and in extension, about the nature of my reply…
***
I remember I didn`t reply right away. Her message, mixed with seeing her only a week before and with her allegations that something of a different nature might be going on between me and Julien, left me puzzled and in a state of emotional effervescence that was quite difficult to contain.
I had a million of questions and very little answers, and I strongly believed she was a bit odd. I had trouble focusing for the rest of the day, and as I headed home, on a splendid summer afternoon, I totally ignored the smoothening landscape that surrounded me and only longed for the comfort and privacy of my own home.
I had even decided to do something I so rarely did while being at home – and that is to buy groceries and plan a home-cooked meal. In my sudden enthusiasm, I bought numerous cans of mousse thinking that while attempting to escape my momentarily anxiety, I will also spoil my cat. “Tant pis! She deserves it” I thought as I was turning the key in the door, waiting for her to greet me with her friendly meow.
As I was cooking, the little aerials of time between slicing, dicing and waiting for the oven to perform different seemingly magical tasks, allowed thoughts to break through my “domestic” barriers, so that halfway through the making dinner process I found myself revolving around the same troubling thought – it felt like I was playing a surrealistic game that was beyond my league and that involved confident young kids from a different, more prepared world than mine in everything that life seemed to be.
I decided this childish fear of mine had to be chased away, and that I had to provide a mature, calculated answer to this interesting stranger. After calming down with a glass of mellow red wine and a few pages of the latest manuscript I was working on, and as the cat was gently purring on my lap, I seemed to have built up the courage for my reply.
I opened my Inbox and hit the reply button to her message:
“ Dear Lara,
I was thrilled, and yet a bit surprised to see your message today” – I paused, trying to find the best way to casually accept her coffee invitation without mentioning Julien – “your interest in meeting me for a coffee is flattering and I would love to proceed with your invitation” – “proceed with your invitation”, I immediately thought, “what is this, a dentist appointment?” I hit the delete button and stared for the few seconds at the blinking prompter next to “love to” … in the end I added “see you”. Then, as I felt my courage caving in to my worries, I decided to cut it short “Drop me a line when you are available and I`ll check if our schedules match.
Cheers,
Winona Dawson”
I was tempted to read it again as to modify its obvious fake-casual style, but decided to hit “Send” instead. Then I got back to my reading while petting my sleepy cat and trying to let life follow its course.
***
It was a hot Saturday night and we were surrounded by translucid neon lights that contributed to the overall surrealistic feeling of the whole day. Our coffee had turned into an intellectual shopping spree through the bookstores of Paris, then into a regular shopping spree through the center`s chiquest designer shops, and it was leaning towards a girls night out.
For two people with apparently different interests, we had an awful lot in common – we shared the same elitist tastes in narcissistic authors – we spent about an hour deliciously arguing over which author was the most suitable to keep, if stranded on a remote location; we liked the same designers, and we seemed to have similar tastes in everything. And on top of all that, it was a delight to be around Lara, with her bubbly enthusiasm and her spontaneous adorable laughter.
She was now seated at the table in front of me, gracefully sipping her cocktail, and I was lost in her hypnotic gaze. Her outfit for the day was quite different than the one she had at the party – she was wearing a pair of black low waist jeans and a red t-shirt that had “I got out of bed for this” written on it. I must admit that after reading that, I couldn`t help but picturing her in bed that morning, before putting the infamous T-shirt on.
She was an adorable brunette – short hair, tall, slim, long pianist fingers, thin waist line and model-like prominent hip bones. Her eyes were big and blue – a hypnotic, almost electric blue, that was hard to keep up with. When she would ask a question, it would be accompanied by an enthusiastic sparkle underneath long eye-lashes. During our conversation, I found myself trapped by her charming gaze at least three times – it was like enjoying the details of a fine painting.
She must`ve noticed I was staring, because she slightly blushed and looked at the glass. I had to say something…
“So, you and Julien are friends for how long?” and that is how I ventured along the path of intimate conversations that usually start after the subjects of the day are exhausted and you realize you feel comfortable enough to tiptoe in the life of another person.
She smiled as if she was waiting for this moment for quite a while now. And I noticed that when she smiled, her full lips arched in an adorable, inviting way, and I could guess her white, perfect teeth – “Since we were kids, he`s like my older brother, but… I wouldn`t be too sure he still considers me a good friend. As she answered, she didn`t look at me, but instead examined the tip of her shoe for a second or two… I realized I might be on thin ice… but still I dared, reserving the privilege of the kind stranger:
“He seems quite found of you, and looked rather happy to see you at the party…
“He does?” she interrupted, and then realized her intervention was a bit too sudden. She, almost unperceivably, bit her lower lip. Her eyes were sparkling as always. “You see, things are a bit complicated between us.” - and there it was, the magic word – “complicated” – that is what my intuition was trying to warn me about… it was too late to back down now. I waited, with a patient look on my face, as the echo of the word “complicated” was still ringing in my ears – “Complicated?” I added, encouraging her to continue.
“Yes… you see, I care about him a great deal, but I did a terrible thing a few years ago… and I am not too sure he had forgiven me. I was so surprised he invited me to the party, and so happy at the same time… I rescheduled my entire vacation just so that I could honor this invitation. I figured I would surely find a minute alone with him… but then as I got to the party I realized that was no longer necessary – he seemed fine, he seemed happy and confident – I was so glad, and in a way so relieved…
But then, after a few days, I wasn`t so certain anymore – maybe he was putting up a an act… I needed to make sure…since I know none of his new friends, and since after meeting him it became so clear that I wouldn`t get the answers I was looking for, I decided to contact you. Don`t get me wrong, I wanted to meet you of course, but at the same time I thought I could confide in you, and maybe ask you instead of asking him… I suppose in the great picture this appears as terribly rude of me, but all I need to make sure of is that he is really alright …
A strange mixture of concern and embarrassment was showing on her face, and for those brief moments she looked just like a deer in the headlights… she was in an adorably vulnerable position, and I realized that it took a much stronger person than me to be able to refuse the demands of such a splendidly brittle creature…
I took a deep breath, since I wasn`t quite at ease myself – the expression of guilt that gloomed in her eyes was puzzling me – “you can`t really get involved without knowing the full story, can you?” I thought to myself. I noticed her glass was empty, and for that matter, so was mine. “Would you like another drink?” I asked.
She seemed relieved by the unexpected intermezzo, and showed her gratitude with a seraphic smile. “Yes please, same as before” – I thought this was clearly not easy for her.
I asked for another round, and then bought some time until the drinks would arrive. I mentioned the dress she had on at the party and asked about the designer – I was pleasantly surprised to realize I had guessed correctly the name. As we were making small talk I examined her again – she was still not at ease and it was still difficult for me to continue with our initial conversation. For a moment, I wondered if it wasn`t maybe better to forget about that subject altogether… then the drinks arrived. We had a few sips, and it seemed like a good time to restart were we left off our delicate subject.
She was playing with the little glittery star that was accessorizing her mobile phone. Knowing that it might be a stretch, but giving in to the irresistible urge of doing so, I placed my hand over hers in an encouraging brief hold and asked:
“Would you tell me what happened between you two?” I was looking straight in her eyes, and my little encouraging trick paid off, as she squeezed my hand in hers for a few seconds, then continued:
“We grew up together; he was the only good friend I had after my mother died. After her death, me and my father, we moved to the UK and we rarely spoke about her. Her loss was too much for the both of us, it seemed, and as my father became rather isolated and buried himself in his work, I had difficulties accepting my new home.
In order not to be overcome by grief, I put all my passion into dreaming – I wanted to leave, to go far away, somewhere else… I never really fancied the UK since it didn`t look remotely like home. I was obsessed with doing the right thing and being fair, since for me, my mother`s death was terribly unfair. And since I was reluctant at being part of the new world I was brought in, it became rather difficult to make friends – to me, they all looked like greedy little strangers… except for Julien. He was oddly like me- a stranger amongst strangers. And he was incredibly patient with me.
Ever since we became friends, for years I did nothing but put his friendship to the test – always teasing him, always trying to get him angry. But he never got angry. And, boy, did I try! I tried everything I knew could hurt him, or upset him, and the only thing I got back was kindness.
You see… in my eyes, having a friend would make it the more difficult to leave far away… and it also made it difficult to justify the cruelty of a world that I used to believe is filled with nothing but disappointment. So I tried to make Julien go away, but he just kept on staying.
I smiled. This was a side of Julien that was quite new to me. I was used to the meticulous professional that made for a lovely party companion, but I didn`t know he was that patient, nor did I ever had the chance to put that to the test. But then again, Lara…I wasn`t too sure there was a man not willing to be patient and wait for her caprices to go pass…
“Once, when we were in highschool, we were invited at a friend`s party – he had a nice big house at his disposal while his parents were away. Both Julien and I found it quite easy to sneak to the party, since we both had quite busy parents.
By midnight, we were both wasted and we found our way to the same bedroom. We were both virgins and we really believed we would be just sleeping. But then as we got under the blanket and I felt his shy kisses on the back of my neck I quickly replied. It was a sweet confusion for the both of us, and contrary to what other people say about their first time, I can fairly say mine was pleasant.
I was smiling, while looking at this young woman and picturing her in bed with Julien. Both young, not really knowing what to do, but touching and kissing and enjoying the intense feeling of each other`s bodies… this story was becoming interesting after all, but by the looks of it, I was severely doubting a happy ending.
“We were inseparable ever since – Lara continued – even more than before – and pretty fast we got better at sleeping together. It was safe to say we were a couple. And it lasted for quite a few years as well. Julien seemed so inlove – he started laying down plans for our future. That gradually freaked me out. I loved him I suppose, but I was too young to imagine a life together with anyone, and besides, the idea of being chained to a home suffocated me. I wanted to leave for so long… the more he was talking about “settling down” the more I felt heavy weights were tied to my ankles, pulling me in a vast, black sea, of uncertainty and desperation. I started looking for ways out, and then I started feeling guilty for doing that.
I tried to speak to him about this, but he thought I was teasing him again… I quickly realized there wasn`t much I could really say to make him change his mind. I also felt like I was being unfair to him, and because of that feeling I could barely stand myself, but something had to be done, something had to give… she paused and as she looked at me I noticed her eyes were teary. I didn`t really knew what to say, since I was a bit trapped in images of the past evoked by her story – “Go on” I whispered as I felt a knot tying up my throat.
“A few weeks before our final exam I went alone to a party – I had asked Julien to come along, but he had something to do, so I decided to go by myself. And at the party, I bumped into a friend of ours – Adam – that had a crush on me for some months. He knew I wasn`t alright and he knew how much I wanted to leave the country after the finals and how difficult it was for me to do so, because of Julien. We spent ages talking on the rooftop, with a bottle of whiskey between us, and a pack of cigarettes. Then we got pretty drunk and we ended up fucking each other… I don`t think I ever slept with someone out of frustration, but I couldn`t take it anymore. I wanted my relationship to end somehow, so that I could go on with my life. That night seemed like the only thing that could set me free.
The next day, I told Julien… He was terribly disappointed and even then he tried to reconcile, but he understood that there was really not much left to reconcile.
Shortly after that, I left to continue my studies in the US, and he stayed behind… I never had a serious relationship after that one, and I don`t miss having one. I thought he would never forgive me for that terrible break-up, until I got the invitation to the party… and this pretty much brings us up to date… and maybe explains a bit why I am so eager to know more about him.
She looked at me with a relieved expression on her face – it was indeed a difficult story to tell to a stranger – “not a very uncommon one” I found myself thinking, “but that is beside the point in real life I suppose”.
“Do you still love him?” – I asked, and immediately regretted my question – even if she did – what good would it do admitting it?
“I just want him to be happy… do you love him?” she replied, with a piercing blue-eyed look that went straight into my soul.
I hesitated – not because I was uncertain of my answer, but because I was trying to remember what love was. In the end, I suppose I lied when I said: “No, I`m afraid not…I`m sorry”.
Shortly after that, we called it a night. As I got home, Lara`s scent was still lingering on my wrist, and I was trying to put some order in my thoughts, when suddenly, it hit me – I lied when I answered, and that was because I didn`t seem to love him… how odd… and how new at the same time.
I kept tossing and turning in bed that night, I couldn`t clearly get around what happened… I tried as much as I could to stay away from any kind of confessions lately, and I enforced some sort of a respect barrier between me and the world – I figured in these kinds of situations there isn`t much you can do anyway, so it is better not to know them at all. And now this sweet young woman just walks into my life and urges me to listen to her story – what was I supposed to do about it? And why did I feel like doing something about it? She was soon to be gone back home, and by the looks of it, this would probably be the only time I would see her, but somehow that didn`t seem right. This awkward feeling brought me back to my epiphany – she wanted to know Julien was doing fine – and that appeared to be pretty understandable, because him doing fine would spare her of a guilty conscience and because, as a woman that cares, she was trying to show protection and concern – it was a classic portrait of a woman repenting. And she also believed Julien was somehow involved with me – that idea I was still unable to fully comprehend… but truth be told, after this long walk down memory lane, I felt attracted to the young man even much than before… of course, it was hardly enough to openly declare I “loved him” – so I suppose my answer was only a white lie in a way… but was it the full answer? Under the safe and quiet bedroom sky it was about time to be truthful to myself…
I`ve always considered myself to be entirely heterosexual – other than the occasional kisses in a bar`s restroom, sometime long ago in my tormented youth, I don`t remember showing anything other than curiosity towards another woman. But then, was that really ever put to the test? I was part of a long relationship for so long, then I dedicated my life to my work – it didn`t really sounded like I was “out there”, or even in close touch with my emotions and desires – in fact, these were the very things I was trying to run away from… it is also true that for years I didn`t show any interest in another man, but I always assumed that was because finding one that would be “suitable” to walk in Martin`s shoes, was too much of a task.
Somehow, tonight, that didn`t look like the best explanation anymore… seeing Lara definitely stirred some strong emotions. Maybe liking a woman was simply easier – it most certainly felt that way. Or maybe I was just playing it safe, easing my way back into the world of the living. Either way, all I knew was that it felt so damn easy to like that girl and to be a part of her life up to the point where I would gladly cross the thin line between wanting to be a good selfless friend and being in love.
Ever since I saw her, I had this urge of having her in my arms, of touching her, just to make sure she was real. I constantly wanted to feel her close to me. These were desires I didn`t show for anyone in years – and it was a new arena I wasn`t too sure I wanted to play in. Besides, it takes two to tango – how was I to know whether she liked me back or not? I had no practice in this game for so long, and she was still so young and such a stranger. Suddenly, the weight of my years of solitude didn`t feel so light anymore… I started thinking what on earth would such a superb, perfect girl want to do with me? I was in my mid-thirties, an introverted, workaholic widow. She was barely twenty-nine…
I got out of bed and went to the bathroom to wash my face as I was in such a state of agitation that I figured sleep wouldn`t come easy that night. I started examining myself in the mirror – I never had a low self-esteem, but I still felt I was underprepared for this. Under the neon light, in front of my mirror I started seeing myself, shaping out of years of blindness. I had full lips and my smile was still charming… my long, curly hair caressed my shoulders in a delicate, feminine way. I was relieved not to spot one single gray hair in that thick mass of hazelnut curls. My eyes were shaded by long eye-lashes, and I remembered Martin saying he used to love most the warm light in these eyes… But that was so long ago… now, other than what appeared to be an inner feverish glow, they didn`t seem to show much… and what was worse, was that I could catch shades of expression wrinkles here and there… I suppose you can`t really stop growing old.
What have I been doing all these years? Where was I, really? I felt my neck with my fingers and realized my wrist still held on to her scent. My neck still held a graceful line… I pulled down my night gown, and examined my breasts. They were still firm, and the chilly night made my nipples shudder. I touched them slightly, with the back of my hand and enjoyed the tingly shiver down my spine. I closed my eyes and imagined her lips playing with them, and her white teeth biting on them just a little… “This is insane!” I told myself, and stepped away from the mirror. Then fast, I buttoned my night gown all the way up, and I rushed to bed, covering myself with the bed sheet that I pulled over my nose tip. My breath was accelerated and my pulse racing – “turned on by a kid – what is wrong with you Winona?” I heard my conscience questioning me as I was trying to snap out of it.
All I remember is that sleep came really late that night, and I still couldn`t help not dreaming of exploring every single hidden corner of her body. For days to come I did nothing but floating in this sweet cloud of confusion, and my mind was filled only with images of her.
***
Other than a brief text message informing me she would have to leave in a hurry, I didn`t hear anything from Lara for months.
Her sudden departure had left me disappointed, but somehow relieved, taking comfort in the fact that I didn`t have to face her again. But what little comfort that was! Luckily I still had my cynicism to protect my frail heart. In a few weeks, I was back to my old self again, taking up journeys throughout Europe for important meetings that I carried out successfully. My faith and self-esteem were restored. For a while, I had little time for my friends again, and other than a short visit every now and then to my good friend Martha, that normally took care of my precious cat when I was away, nothing really interesting was happening on my social agenda. And no word, or no news of my dearest Lara either – I thought it was best – it would give me time to heal what I defined as a ridiculous coup de foudre of an introverted mid-thirties woman.
I found travelling soothing again, and I took joy in strolling for hours on foreign streets, just to admire the intricate and diverse architecture and to taste the local cuisine. I started reading even more than before, and attended as many cultural events as possible. Art galleries throughout Europe quickly became my faiblesse. I visited all of them and one by one they filled my senses with images and stories of forgotten times, with centuries of artistic creation.
What I adored the most about the diversity of our days was the ability to put your passion to good use in no matter what field. This allowed your soul to expand and breathe freely, to become stronger and more independent … “If I`d open my heart, there`ll be no space for air” I found myself humming one day in front of a very interesting modern sculpture exposed in one of the galleries of my dearest Louvre.
The rest of the summer I spent in this meditative state, looking for little trapdoors to help me forget. And then, one rainy September day, I heard a message on my answering machine that brought me back amongst the living again. I had just arrived from a trip to Bruges, and the rain in my beloved Paris seemed like a warm fairytale by comparison. I was unfolding my newspaper, searching frantically for the local culture&entertainment page, trying to find the coverage granted to a particular eastern European novel that my agency was promoting, and that received up to now very little attention.
I pressed the play button of my answering machine and I went to the kitchen to prepare my cappuccino, when the voice recorded message started:
Our dearest Winona, it seems like you have forgotten me and our little group of friends in the mist of what I am sure is a very busy life. And although we had patiently awaited your return amongst us for so long, we are now starting to become rather anxious at the idea of losing you forever. Sebastian is crying over an old photo of you that turned yellow in his wallet, and I am becoming more and more desperate not knowing whether my favorite agent had left me at the mercy of this mean world, or would eventually come back to bless me with her presence once more. We`re all going to Calais next weekend, on a very bohemian trip to celebrate Sebastian`s birthday. The poor thing is turning thirty and seems to be petrified at the thought that it is his time to grow up and become a responsible adult in Paris.
Come with us love, it`s been so long since we`ve last seen you, that we are all afraid that your refusal is not an option.
Let me know something soon.”
The echo of his voice made me pleasantly shiver – it was Julien. I stopped by the door frame wondering if it had really been that long since the last time I`ve seen them. I always had a problem keeping track of time, especially when I was hunting a momentarily passion. I realized I was quite eager to see them myself, so I confirmed with a text message, then spent half of the next week clearing my schedule and making sure my weekend will be free, and another half preparing my bags. They seemed thrilled to receive my confirmation, and Julien promised me a pleasant surprise upon arrival. His mysterious tone of voice left me wondering what that surprise might be.
***
I arrived in Calais on a late Friday afternoon. The boys had rented a quiet house by the sea, and they were still busy making the last arrangements. Sebastian was excited to see me. His birthday was only a day away, but he was already wearing the spoiled birthday boy attitude, that suited him so well. He was greeting new comers and letting them know how delighted he was they all decided to join him in his quest to “turn the page” for a responsible adult existence. I am sorry I dragged you all here, but I simply couldn`t settle for a tedious Parisian party – the seaside was my only acceptable option” he added, every time one of our friends stopped to salute the restless blue infinity lying only a few meters away from our feet.
Sebastian`s story wasn`t all that complicated. He was a rich boy, hell bent on making it big into acting. But unlike other European young wannabe`s, he had little interest in the big screen, and was more into the underground Parisian theatre, that he considered to be the appropriate opening of his grandiose career. He had met Julien back when he was still testing his skills as a writer and was writing plays for obscure scenes, recruiting acting students for the lead roles. They were friends ever since.
A new addition to our group was Valerie, an adorable “petite française” with flaming long red hair and green eyes. She was Sebastian`s girlfriend, and this was the first time I had ever seen her in our group. She was probably part of Sebastian`s idea of a “responsible adult life”.
Both Julien and Sebastian were rather secretive about the nature of the surprise they had prepared for me, but they were both convinced I will love it – And you sure deserve it, darling, after abandoning us for so long, in favor of some eccentric corner of Europe, Julien added, making me slightly blush while acknowledging my guilt. I suppose that was his way of saying I was forgiven.
Everything was set for a nice barbecue on the patio, and the proximity of the sea added a pleasant salty evening breeze that was delicately tickling the tip of my tongue. I suddenly remembered just how much I adored the sea.
As the meat was cooking on the grill, Sebastian kept a close watch over it, armed with a golden-brown bottle of Leffe in one hand, and a long, silver barbecue fork in the other. Every now and then he would pitch-in the conversation, tossing a witty line that would make its way to our table through the flavored barbecue smoke.
Me and Julien were engaged in what promised to be a very long conversation meant to catch up on lost time. He was working on a new project, and he took his time to warn me that it was going to be big – something about a very elaborate female character that suffered from split-personality. I was only partly interested, since I had a deal with myself not to trust my authors until they would ask me to proof-read the final manuscript (too often were the cases in which the manuscript had absolutely nothing in common with our previous talks about it, so I learned from experience to keep to myself, and not to expect anything “big” until the end product was drafted), but I had to admit that even so, the description didn`t look too bad.
I was itching to ask about Lara, but since Julien never really brought it up, I didn`t dare to open the subject just yet. I added a remark saying that my new Moldavian writer had an interesting manuscript about an identity crisis as well, but that it was of a different nature that I was of course not allowed to discuss until publishing. I reassured Julien that it wasn`t similar to his story.
With what appeared to be a tingle of jealousy in his dark blue eyes, my favorite author alive added ironically:
Well of course darling, I suppose it is a common subject these days, but you know, I am sure he`s no Dostoyevsky.
Overlooking his brutal reduction of the eastern European literature to one single icon, I founded funny that he would feel frightened by a “debutant” and at the same time I felt compelled to protect my new discovery from Julien`s sharp critique:
Certainly he is no Dostoyevsky Julien, but you have to agree with me that he doesn`t really need to be. The last thing the 21st century needs is another Dostoyevsky – this is the time of “all is fair in love and war” and strong moral backbones and dilemmas are considered highly overrated. Our biggest challenge these days is to find our identity rather than to put it to the test.
He smiled enigmatically: Well said as usual, dear friend. And besides, I suppose a bit of competition would do me good.”
A short pause followed – the waves were whispering in front of us inviting us to play along. I wondered if we could bathe but I figured the water might still be too cold. The barbecue was almost done and I was running out of subjects in my attempt to avoid the one question I felt uncertain about asking. I took a sip of my glass, lit up a cigarette and looked at the sea, trying to bring about some courage from its immense torment. Then the question simply sprang out of my lips, and I was unable to hold it back on time:
Have you any news of Lara? I asked, and I felt my cheeks burning.
Lara? Lara who, darling? Julien looked puzzled as if he really didn`t know anyone by that name… Since the dinner was being served, I didn`t there to continue inquiring about her.
Valerie and Sebastian had done a superb job. All of our friends looked pleasantly surprised, as for me, I was still not at ease – it was like she never existed, this tormenting elusive young woman. By Julien`s reply, it was obvious I had little hopes of finding out any more details and besides – what was I to say, to bring it up again? “Listen Julien,I happen to have a major crush on your ex-girlfriend and I would really like to know more about her whereabouts” simply didn`t seem all that appropriate.
***
The next day, the big party started early in the afternoon – we were all sun-bathing like lazy langoustes when the catering team arrived, bringing everyone back from their slumber, and quickly turning an otherwise peaceful generously sized patio into a buzzing, lively party arena.
We all welcomed the fresh drinks, the skillfully arranged appetizers, the nice music playing in the background, and the adorable team of local hostesses and waiters that looked so happy to see us there. I tried to get Sebastian to tell me where on earth did he find such good caterers, but he refused to reveal the secret.
Everyone was having a great time. Toasts were of course held, and animated conversations started. Then, early in the evening as the guests were all dancing and flirting with the idea of assaulting the nearby sea for a quick swim, Lara arrived! I couldn`t believe my eyes! She was there, smiling, only a few meters away from me! I felt a sudden rush of blood to the head and I simply had to look away. I search for a supporting look and I met Julien`s, but he didn`t seem at all troubled by her arrival. Right then and there I wished someone would`ve previously warned me about her invitation. I would`ve been at least a tad more prepared or I could`ve at least kept it on soft drinks for the first half of the party. Now it was of course too late for any kind of safety measures. I was already in a mellow party mood and there was no way I could hide the enthusiastic look that appeared on my face. I felt like a teenager again, and suddenly the idea of taking a quick swim didn`t seem at all that bad… I was just about ready to run for the waves, when I felt her soft hands hugging my shoulders from behind. She was a hint taller than me. She leaned her head and kissed my cheek and I felt her perfume all around me. I had to dig deep with my nails in the palms of my hands in order to resist the urge of turning around and kissing her. A frozen, slightly surprised smile was carved on my face.
I`m so happy to see you again, Winona she said, and the sound of her voice sent waves of pleasure down my spine. I could feel her presence all the way to my fingertips. You too, Julien! She added, and then gracefully walked through the crowd to great the birthday boy.
Julien only offered her the same familiar look that I remember he had in his eyes the night of the previous party, then he came to me and asked Are you alright? You`re blushing…
For a second or two I didn`t know what to reply, my eyes were still turned in Lara`s direction, following her graceful figure that seemed to be floating through the crowd. She was wearing yet another white dress, absolutely splendid in its simplicity…
Yes Julien, I`m fine! I suppose the evening is a bit too hot for me…
Would you like to go for a swim then?
I praised the idea – Can we?… I mean, are we allowed to? I heard myself asking – it really seemed that for the moment I only had an arsenal of ridiculous questions to ask…
Julien smiled and put his arm around my waist, bringing me closer, then he whispered in my ear: I don`t know if we`re allowed to, but we most certainly can. Give me a moment, I`ll go see if anyone else wants to join.
He left me there waiting for a few suffocating moments. I couldn`t really tell what came over me, but I was almost gasping for air like for some reason my lungs were closing in, under the pressure of my accelerated pulse rate. He found his way back to me and told me with a smile that we will meet at the shore in thirty minutes – That way we could both get ready, and I can sneak out of my room with your surprise. He was just about to head to his room when he remembered something Oh, and we might have company – he added, and left.
I had a great deal of difficulty finding my way to my room – it seemed like one too many surprises came over me at once. Once inside, I noticed I was still holding my half-full cocktail glass, so I quickly drank it all to bring about some courage. I fumbled in my bag for my bathing suit and then took my time in the bathroom to put it on and find the appropriate dress that would match it. Quite happy with the result, I left the room heading for the shore.
Both Julien and Lara were waiting for me there with seraphic smiles. I could`ve guessed Lara`s white bathing suit from underneath her dress and I smiled back, noticing how it was oddly similar to mine. Julien had a black little box in his hand, and I shivered imagining the content. He walked over to greet me, while Lara waited behind.
Open it – he said, and handed over the little box.
And so I did. A delicate diamond ring was glittering back at me. For a second I was speechless. Searching for Lara`s gaze, I noticed she had a sweet smile of approval on her face. I slowly turned my head to Julien that took the ring and placed it on my finger. It seemed weightless – I seemed weightless for that matter.
Don`t make too much of it just yet. He added gently. I know you easily panic in surprising situations, but I won`t risk losing you for Europe twice. For now, take it as a token of my appreciation and take your time to give me your reply.
I looked at him as if I was looking through him, and just as I was about to protest, Lara came and placed her hands on my shoulders: Don`t overthink this, trust me. Then she kissed my shoulder and went for the swim. I suddenly relaxed, and I smiled.
The buzz of the party behind us turned into a distant background noise and Julien`s eyes were smiling at me. As we headed to the sea, I got the chance to see Lara so effortlessly taking out her white dress, and submerging slowly into the waves. As we entered the salty restless water, I didn`t perceive it as being cold at all, but instead it was just about right, with an interesting mixture of rugged salty touches and silky smooth currents.
I felt something under the water, and rainbows of shivers were shaking my body up and down. Lara`s soft lips were gently kissing my breasts, and Julien`s hands were caressing my thighs. Then I felt his tongue playing with mine. He was slightly shivering as he was touching, and the mixed sensation of his firm muscles and her velvet lips made me gently moan. For long moments there was nothing but pleasure.
***
I don`t remember neither how we got into the room, nor how or if we managed to escape the group of people dancing on the patio. All I remember was the cool sensation of the bed sheets and the delicate, crepuscular, bedroom sky. And the scent – Lara`s perfume mixed with Julien`s, their lips and hands all over my body. I was so eager to play along, to touch, to feel, to keep this feeling locked within me forever… I felt Lara`s little white teeth delicately biting one of my nipples and Julien kissing my thighs – I reached out and grabbed the bed sheet with my hands, and my nails made a scratching sound on the delicate satin.
I felt Julien entering me, as Lara was hugging him from behind, kissing his neck and playing with her hands on his torso. His head leaned backwards over her shoulder and their eyes were closed. As he was moving she lowered her hands from his chest to my belly, delicately massaging it. Her eyes were now opened and she gave me a re-assuring gaze. Then she grabbed my hips as to hold me in place underneath them, and I placed my hands over hers. Her hands were warm, and so were Julien`s gentle moves. My thighs started contracting as I felt him inside, and he accelerated his pace, leaning over me in a weightless hug, and covering my lips, my neck and nipples with kisses.
Lara was now next to us and her lips were alternatively kissing mine and his. She was of an adorable immaculate beauty, her velvet skin so white, and her moves so delicate. Both me and Lara were kissing his neck, and as our tongues met he moaned gently. I wanted more of them – I had an overwhelming desire to have them.
In a graceful twist, I rolled, bringing him under me. I was now on top, and moon rays were caressing my belly. Lara saluted my twist with a smile, and she kissed my hips as one of her small round, perfect breasts was brushing against Julien`s arm. Julien pulled her over him and he was now playing with her clit, his tongue sliding inside her. She was searching for my lips, and her sweet tongue was playing with mine. Her big blue eyes showed a misty lost gaze that I couldn`t help but adore. I think one of her looks alone was enough to make me feel hugged.
My hands felt her muscles twitching, and I could still feel Julien hard, thrusting inside me. Lara started moaning slowly, in rhythm with her body shivering with pleasure. Julien`s muscles were contracted, I could feel his heavy presence underneath me, and his shivers of desire. His hands were caressing my breasts, as mine were playing with Lara`s.
She arched backwards and grabbed the bed sheet with her hands. I leaned over slowly, kissing her belly, and going down until my tongue met Julien`s – the contact made both of them shiver. He started moaning as well, more retained though, on a deeper, more male tone. I could feel his accelerated breath, he was gasping for air as my tongue played with his and with Lara`s smooth lips. She was warm and wet, and she had a fresh, inviting scent.
I felt her twitch slowly, then faster and faster – she hid her face between the pillows as her muscles contracted and her thighs started shivering; she was moaning in an accelerated rhythm, begging us not to stop. I was eager to taste her, to feel her letting go. And then she did – in a graceful, final delicate move, her whole body shivered as she climaxed. She was an adorable creature. I kissed her belly – her taste still in my mouth – grateful she`d let me take part of her joy. My hands were still caressing her sweet velvet-like body, and she trapped them both in hers and started kissing my fingers. As I looked at her, I met an absolutely delicious blue-eyed gaze. I looked at Julien, who had now moved, and was resting his head on her lap. I leaned down and kissed him, and I felt his hands firmly grabbing my hips. Then I felt his moves, fluid, effortless, so well synchronized with mine… I buried my face in his shoulder, while frantically kissing every inch of his skin, and I quietly climaxed, bearing inside me the whole burden of joy and immense pleasure that this surrealistic night had brought upon me.
***
The next day, I woke-up next to Julien, who was still hugging me in his sleep. My hands were resting in his. I looked for Lara but she was nowhere to be found. No trace of her was in the room, no dress, no piece of clothing, just a fresh scent of dahlias… I wondered why would she disappear like this again… I turned and I kissed Julien`s nose, hoping to wake him up. Luckily I succeeded, and a pair of adorable dark eyes opened up and smiled at me:
Good morning sweetheart – he said and hugged me closer – would you like us to go down for some breakfast?
I definitely enjoyed the idea, but the thought of Lara missing like that was still puzzling me:
I would love to – I replied – but what happened to Lara? Did she left earlier?
As he was getting up from the bed, Julien turned and gave me a worried look – Sweetheart, I told you, I don`t know anyone called Lara…
My confused look must`ve worried him even more – he reached for the closet and pulled-on a pair of jeans and a red T-shirt with something scribbled on it. Then he came back, sat on the side of the bed and gently kissed my forehead – You must still be tired. Tell you what, I`ll go down and great our friends then I`ll bring back some breakfast for the both of us, and we can have it here, in bed. He smiled – I`m very happy you`re here – he added and, as he got up, I could read I got out of bed for this on his T-shirt…
