Northern Moonlight (12 page)

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Authors: ANISA CLAIRE WEST

BOOK: Northern Moonlight
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This new piece of information made Sabrina angry for her sister.  “No, Cara.  Not at all.  You’ve made the right decision.  I’m just so sorry things ended like this for you and Bruce.”

 

“It’s almost as if he wanted to get rid of me.  He knows I would never leave New York!  So he forced me into a corner, already certain of what my response would be.”  Sabrina couldn’t argue with this bit of logic and felt like taking a cab to Bruce’s apartment to throttle the buffoon. 

 

“Oh, Sabrina, let’s change the subject please. Tell me what’s new with you.”

 

Sensing this would be a very inappropriate time to bring up Gio, Sabrina looked around the apartment and remarked, “Mom and Dad don’t seem to be home.”

 

“They’re at work and will be home for dinner.  They’re looking forward to having you stay here, but be prepared for some grilling…and I don’t mean the food.” Sabrina nodded knowingly, fully expecting the barrage of questions her marriage-minded parents would ask.

 

“Although, “Cara said pensively, wiping her eyes, “now that they’ve got two old maid daughters, the focus won’t be entirely on you.  I can just hear them now.  ‘Where did we go wrong?’”

 

Sabrina snorted in response, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  “You’re right, Cara.  We’ll be a team tonight and face the interrogation together.  And I’ll remind them how I’m here to work.  My photography really will occupy most of my time here.”

 

Giving her sister a quick, reassuring hug, Sabrina carried her suitcase over to the room they had shared as children.  Their parents had spent their entire married life in this rent-controlled apartment, and Sabrina wondered if they would ever move.  She doubted it, as her parents were as devoted as Cara was to city life and attended a theatre or musical performance almost weekly.  Sabrina flopped onto the twin bed, pulling off her shoes and drifting into a nap until her parents’ arrived home for dinner.

 

She awoke to the sounds of animated discussion between her parents and sister.  She ventured out to the dining room, where Henri Montrouge greeted her by planting a kiss on the top of her head.

 

“Welcome home, sweetheart.  I’m glad you’re staying with us for a little while.” 

 

“Hi Dad.  Thank you.”  Sabrina said as Giulia Montrouge walked over and swatted her playfully.

 

“It’s about time you came to visit us!  After spending Christmas and New Year’s in Paris, we’d thought you’d disowned us.” Mrs. Montrouge said half jokingly.

 

“Mom, don’t be silly.  You and Dad were in Colorado anyway.  But it is good to be home now.”

 

The reunited family sat down to dinner a few minutes later.  Somehow the sisters managed to make it through dinner without any mention of their personal lives.  Mrs. Montrouge was about to serve fruit cups for dessert when the topic of Sabrina’s personal life inevitably came up.

 

“So, Sabrina, are you involved with anyone right now?” Her mother asked bluntly.  Sabrina and Cara exchanged a look.

 

“Actually, yes I am.” Sabrina replied, twirling her spoon around nervously in the fruit cup.

 

“You are?!  Sabrina, you didn’t mention that to me!”  Cara exclaimed, feeling hurt.

 

“I know, Cara.  I didn’t think it was the right time after what you had just told me about Bruce.”

 

“We don’t speak that name in this house any longer!” Henri Montrouge said sternly.

 

Ignoring her father, Cara accused Sabrina, “Why not?  Did you think I would be jealous?”

 

“No, Cara.  I was just trying to be considerate of your feelings.  In any case, it’s not a serious relationship.  I’ve only just met the man.” Sabrina glanced around the table, noting that all eyes were riveted on her, waiting for details.  “His name is Giovanni Salvatore.  He’s a fireman in Burlington, and we met while I was taking a walk along Lake Champlain.”

 

“That sounds romantic!  Why haven’t we heard about this man sooner?” Mrs. Montrouge pressed, placing her spoon down on the table.

 

“Because we just started seeing each other last week!”  Sabrina marginally tolerated the wave of curious inquiries that infiltrated the room, sharing with her family everything she herself knew about Gio.  Her parents were concerned when she got to the part about his family tragedy and thought he must be burdened by a tremendous amount of emotional baggage.  They were even more worried when she told them that she was assisting him in an arson investigation.  Cara, however, in dire need of a project to distract herself from losing Bruce, was eager to join the investigation and reminded Sabrina that in a few short weeks, after passing the bar exam, she would be a
bona fide
attorney.  By the time the table was cleared, all three Montrouges were well-informed about Sabrina’s new beau.

 

The subsequent days and nights passed sluggishly for Sabrina, and she often found herself fantasizing about Gio.  Each morning, when she would take her camera to Central Park, the Botanical Gardens, or any other charming locale, she envisioned him at her side.  Sabrina would not admit to herself that she missed Gio, but she certainly wanted to see him again.  One afternoon, after a morning spent snapping photos of fishermen on the docks, Sabrina returned home gratefully to an empty apartment.  Her parents were at their respective Midtown offices, and Cara was in class at law school.

 

As Sabrina poured herself a refreshing glass of lemonade, her thoughts predictably drifted to Gio again.  She had neglected to give him her parents’ phone number before leaving the previous week and now wondered if he was as eager to talk to her as she was to him.  There was only one way to find out. 

 

Sabrina had never called Gio before but had kept his phone number written on a slip of paper stored safely in her wallet.  Digging it out and making her way to the telephone, she felt her heart begin to accelerate in anticipation.  Anticipation quickly turned to doubt.  What if he felt it was too forward of her to call him?  Was it too soon in the relationship?  Sabrina was a woman who enjoyed the grandeur of an old-fashioned courtship, but she was also a free-thinking individual.  Brushing aside all fears, she picked up the receiver and dialed Gio’s number. 

 

Before she could finish dialing, a rapping at the door made her leap up in a startled motion. 
Who could be at the door
?  She wondered, setting down the receiver and tip-toeing over.  Even though it was broad daylight, Sabrina was conscious of the fact that she was alone in New York City and vulnerable to whomever was at the door.  The rapping persisted as Sabrina looked out the peephole to glimpse a young man in a delivery uniform.  With slightly less trepidation, she slid the door open.

 

The young man tipped his hat politely, obviously charmed by the sight Sabrina made in her curve-hugging pink jumpsuit.  “Good afternoon, Miss.  I have a telegram for Sabrina Montrouge.”

 

“Yes, that’s me.” Sabrina said quizzically, accepting the pen that the deliveryman offered her and signing for the telegram.  She pulled a couple of folded bills from her purse and handed them to the young man who thanked her and went on his way.  Intrigued, Sabrina tore open the telegram and read its terse contents:

 

Sabrina: Urgent: Call: Gio. 

 

She caught her breath registering who it was from, persuaded that there could be a telepathic connection between she and Gio.  But what could the urgency be?  She scurried over to the phone again and dialed his number.  After three rings, she supposed he might be out, most likely at work, but on the fourth ring, he picked up.

 

“Hello?” His deep voice intoned. 

 

In her signature sweet voice, tinged with wide-eyed curiosity, Sabrina said, “Hello Gio.”

 

“Sabrina?!  Is that you?”

 

Thrilled that he had recognized her voice and sounded excited to hear it, she replied, “Yes, it’s me.  How are you?  Is everything OK?  I just received your telegram.”

 

“I’m great now that you’ve called.  I actually wanted to call you last week, but you didn’t give me your phone number there.  That was the reason for my telegram.  There’s no real urgency, except that I couldn’t wait another day to talk to you.”

 

His characteristic candor soothed Sabrina and allayed her previous nerves. “Gio, that is so sweet.  I have to say that your telegram scared me for a minute there.  I thought something was wrong.”

 

“Everything’s all right now.” He said seductively.  “How’s your work coming?”

 

“Most of my work is done, so now I have some free time.  I honestly don’t know why my boss would send me on assignment for ten days to take pictures of New York, but I’m not complaining.”

 

Gio chuckled.  “Yeah, I can’t say you’re doing hard labor over there, Primrose.”

 

“Hey!  Getting around New York City is pretty laborious, believe me.”

 

“Can’t argue with you there.” He paused for a few breaths, then resumed.  “Sabrina, since you’re done with your assignment but stuck in the city for a few more
days, would you like me to join you?  I mean, I have a shift later today, but I have Friday off.  I could drive over in the morning.  Then on Saturday, after the party we can head back to Vermont together.”

 

“That would be great!  But where are you going to stay on Friday night?” Sabrina asked cautiously.

 

Avoiding a joking comment about staying with her, Gio said respectfully, “I’ll stay in a hotel.  New York has plenty of those, right?”

 

“Yes!  Gio, I’m so glad that you’re coming early!”

 

“Not as glad as I am.  I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” Gio ventured to express these emotions and then cleared his throat, assuming a more formal manner.  “Like I said, we can spend the whole day together, maybe go to a museum, get something to eat, just walk around.”

 

Sabrina felt euphoric, not comprehending until this moment how lonesome her stay in New York had been so far.  Enthusiastically, she suggested, “Since you mentioned a museum, why don’t we meet on the steps of the Met?”

 

“The Met?” Gio echoed. 

 

Sabrina forgot how non-New Yorkers sometimes did not understand the abbreviation for the famed museum.  In fact, the abbreviation could also refer to the Metropolitan Opera House.  Sabrina clarified, “Yes, the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”

 

“Oh, of course.  I’m not used to hearing it called “The Met.”  For a second, it made me think of the baseball team.”

 

“You mean the Mets!  No, I wouldn’t ask you to meet me on the steps of Shea Stadium!  Unless you’re a baseball fan.”

 

“I like baseball a lot, but I’d rather play than be a spectator.  That’s my philosophy of just about everything in life.” Gio’s voice betrayed another meaning that Sabrina readily understood.  “Just to be safe, taking traffic delays into consideration, let’s say we’ll meet at the museum at three o’clock on Friday, ok?”

 

“OK, sounds perfect!  I’ll see you then.”

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