Trouble finding Blondie (26 page)

Simona was busy making arrangements, taking care of bills and phone calls. She asked Reni to watch Francois on Wednesday so that she could get everything done. She wanted to have the whole day on Thursday with Francois.
 

She needed to write a few ‘Thank you’ cards. She waited until she was alone in an empty house. She walked through her apartment as if it was her first time. She had an overwhelming sense of gratitude. It was something she not only preached, but lived. It was contagious around her. She always marveled at this polished skill which required daily practice. It’s easy to be grateful when things are going good in our lives but when things go awry… for many, gratitude goes right out the window. In Simona’s case, that was the time when she tried her hardest, reminding herself how fortunate and lucky she was. Other people’s problems were much worse. She somehow found logic even in tragedy. Her famous words were, ‘It could be a lot worse. If it’s not life threatening, it’s not worth stressing about!’

She wrote a thank you card to her boss at the Four Seasons hotel, expressing her gratitude for giving her a 3 months leave of absence. Another one to the head coach of the soccer camp in Barcelona and a review on TripAdvisor about their dinning experience. Then she pulled out Philippe’s card. Smiling, she read it again. She looked at her classic sized thank you cards, laughed out loud at herself, and went to get her secret box with a variety of cards to look for a bigger one. First she looked for humorous, but then she looked at his card and decided to go with something simple.

It was a simple card with raindrops and a powerful quote. ‘The hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings.’

It didn’t have an author which made it even better. There it was again, the beauty in simplicity. Simona smiled triumphantly as if she just found a treasure. It was the perfect card because she wasn’t just thankful, she was grateful.

My dearest Philippe...

You said you will take as little or as much I’m willing and able to give you...

I get what you meant, as well as you being the bigger person. BUT!!! It almost sounds like you are willing to play a second fiddle or settle for any place in the orchestra. Philippe, you can never play second, or even first, fiddle. You are a grand harp. You are the conductor!

Two years ago, I offered you my friendship because that is what I’m really good at. I received so much more in return. I cherish every minute we shared, including all the arguments and bickering. I wouldn’t change it for the world.

When I’m with you, I feel invincible! No mountain is tall enough to climb, no ocean is big enough to swim. You not only made me rich, you made me go beyond the horizon. You made me believe that I can create a life way beyond any dreams or goals I ever had. And for that I’m eternally grateful. It would never have happened without you. Merci, Philippe.

Somewhere along our business and friendship road, we crossed to something different... You became my everything. It was so natural and easy; neither of us noticed. We crammed a decade of experiences into two years of living.

What I really wanted to tell you is that you make me feel loved, safe, and most of all, like I never have enough. Hours spent with you fly like minutes, and I can’t imagine my life without you.

We do have a problem though. I gave my heart away a long time ago; now someone came with the claim ticket. I’m lost, and I don’t know what to do. Most of all, I don’t want to hurt anyone. You know me well enough. I have to process my emotions and analyze it all in my head. There is one thing I’m certain about: I love my life and all the people in it. I’m incredibly humbled, and I have this overwhelming presence of gratitude. I still wake up many times, praying that it’s not just a dream.
 

When you finish reading this, I will probably be somewhere above the Atlantic. I need time alone… Francois is staying with Reni and Andre.

I’m not sure what’s about to happen to all of us, but one thing is for sure... I can’t give you up.

I love you.

S.

Simona read it twice before writing it onto the card. Her writing always came from her subconscious. She was asking herself if it sounded more like a gratitude letter or a love letter? Was it based on fear or honesty? What is Philippe going to hear? She erased the ‘I love you’ part and immediately felt like a cheater.

I told him to dare greatly, and I’m chickening out on honesty and my feelings? How hypocritical! This man earned everything in that letter, more than a few times over, and I’m afraid to say it?
 

She wrote it back in and added a signature with a heart. She smiled as if giving herself praise.

❖ ❖ ❖

Friday morning came too fast, and everyone was thrown off a little. Their flights were at 10 AM. Reni arrived at 6 AM to have breakfast with them and to get her last minute instructions.

Simona was nursing, coffee was dripping, but somehow everyone was on edge.
 

Francois felt the energy and was unusually fussy. Simona never left the house without having coffee and toast. Andre was making her breakfast because he couldn’t eat that early himself. Reni poured herself a cup of coffee, threw a piece of bread in the toaster, and sat down next to Simona holding Francois. He wouldn’t sit still, was climbing all over Simona, hanging onto her neck.

“Andre, can you please take him? I think he feels my nervous energy.”

Andre took Francois to their bedroom without saying a word. He started showing him the paintings, telling him stories. Francois immediately calmed down, listening with big eyes, as if he understood everything Papa was saying. Then he laid down with him, still telling stories. Francois was peacefully listening, touching Andre’s face. When Simona came in, Francois happily threw his arms and legs in the air. She laid down behind him. Francois was like a worm turning around from one to the other. It was so comical that they both burst out laughing. Francois immediately sat up and clapped his hands.

Wow. What magic a small person can produce. Instead of us consoling him, he is the one putting us at ease…

“I love you so much,” Simona said.

“Whom?”
 

Simona smiled, ”Both of you.”

“I never had this feeling before. Painful love and fear...”

“Andre, stop! We have to leave, and this is not the best medicine for it.”

“I know, but I’m not sorry. And I’m not ashamed either. I’m grateful I have arrived at this stage. I finally understand all the metaphors, movies, and statements. They are not based on someone’s imagination but on a ton of experiences.”

Simona kissed both her men and walked away to get dressed.

An ordered car was taking them to the airport. It was a strange feeling for Simona. She was used to Marcello driving her to the airport. Andre held her hand in his lap, caressing her palms, watching the road. Then he turned to Simona, “Does this freaky feeling ever go away?”

“Leaving your child? No. It never gets easier. No matter how old they are. But practice makes it a little better.”

“I don’t want the practice. Quite frankly, I think I may just drop you off and go back.”

“Don’t be silly. You need to go. I’m sure everyone is worried about you.”

“How about we all go when you come back?”

Andre caught her look. He didn’t need an answer. Simona felt sad, but she had no answer to give him and was trying really hard not to slip into her old guilt tripping self. Her phone started ringing. It was Philippe. It was too early! She texted Marcello to kindly pick something up from her apartment after he drops Philippe off at the office. He must have told him. Did Philippe decide to go to her place first? Or is it a coincidence? No, no such a thing with Philippe. She texted him.

“Is he at the airport?” Andre asked.

“Who? Philippe? I hope not,” Simona said.

“Why don’t you pick up the phone?”
“I told him I’d call him back in an hour. And as far as the why… because I want to spend these last minutes with you, Andre. Any other questions?”

“Blondie, this is a first for me, and I really don’t know how to handle it, okay?”

“Neither do I. I’m holding onto my honesty, Andre, not trying to inflict pain, or do…”

“Any of the stuff I did?”

“I was going to say...shady stuff. Or hide something, trying to protect others.”

“You don’t know how to do shady stuff, Blondie. But there is no way out of this without pain.”

“Ironically, I suffer no matter on which side I am. But you are right. It’s a different pain when it’s a cruel betrayal. Different to when it’s just sorrow.”

“God, you are just so much better than me. I know I don’t deserve you.”

“Honesty got me through life, but all I really want is to be kind. And as far as deserving, people will get what they deserve. You have to decide that for yourself, Andre.”

“Deserve? What do you think I deserve?”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant you need to decide what you want, believe it, and...”

“I know what I want. I believe it’s mine. But how do I convince you that I deserve it?”

“Everything happens for a reason, Andre. I’m glad you found Francois. The guilt was hard on me... I feel relieved now. Please forgive me…”

“I already did. But you need to forgive me, too.”

“I forgave you a long time ago. My problem is that I created a life without you, and I’m having a hard time giving that up.”

“You don’t have to give that up.”

“Yes, I do. I would have to give up a lot of things, and I have to make sure that it’s really what I’m able and capable of doing.”

“I said I’ll be patient. I meant it.”

“Thank you, Trouble.”

When it was time to say goodbye at the airport, she opened her arms for a hug. Andre wouldn’t let go… She smiled and waved through security. Andre felt sick to his stomach. Somehow his insecurities and fears were turning into a full blown nightmare. His anxiety was rising. He was trying to get his mind into a simple command of routine tasks. Go to your terminal, get through security, find your gate.

Simona arrived at the first class lounge, finally able to call Philippe. It was 9 AM, usually the busiest part of his morning.

“I know it’s the craziest time. If you need to call me back, I have an hour,” Simona blurted out as soon as Philippe picked up the phone.

“Good morning to you, too,” Philippe said. “Where are you?”

“Did you get my letter?”

“What letter?”

“Wait. Why did you call me?”

“I got a call from NY. They need you to make some appearances.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll be there next week. Is it too soon?”

“What do you mean next week?”

“I’m at the airport. My departure is in an hour. I’m going to Vegas, then New York.”

The silence was a confirmation of Philippe’s upset state, for a million different reasons. Him not knowing. Him not being in charge. Him not having a say. And her traveling alone.

“Philippe, I wrote you an explanation. I asked Marcello to pick it up.”

“Marcello knew?” Philippe couldn’t believe it. Now even his own employees were on her side.

“Of course not. I only asked him to pick something up from my place.”

While on the phone, Philippe wrote a note for his secretary to tell Marcello to hurry up with the letter from Simona. He walked outside and handed her the paper. She started dialing Marcello’s number while Philippe walked back to his office.

“Ok then. Have a good flight,” Philippe sighed.

“Philippe, I left Francois with Reni. I have never been away from him for a whole week. I could use a little pep talk.”

Philippe realized that she needed him and that it wasn’t the time for him to be pissed off.

“Francois is going to be fine. I’ll check on them, and you have to remind yourself that you are doing all this for him. It’s for you to make the right decision that is going to make you happy. And the trickle effect of him having the best.”

Is he trying to trick me? Having the best? He knows I have no idea what’s the best or how to navigate this. Is he messing with my head?

“Simo?”

“Yes, thank you. I know. I’m just being a little hormonal, I guess. My boobs will probably explode on the plane.”

“Another smart reason to fly commercial.”

“You will be happy to know that I wasn’t Jewish and got myself a first class seat.”

“No you didn’t. You are sitting in business.”

“I hate you, Philippe.”

“It’s my business to know about the people who work for me.”

“You must have had funny mushrooms for breakfast.”

“Text me when you land, please.”

“Why? You are going to have a tracker on me anyway.”

Philippe hated to be predictable, but didn’t let up. “The plane maybe. But who knows if you drop dead?”

“I want to be cremated and spread in the ocean, please. The eulogy better not be some sensitive, crying garbage. And my wake better be the party of the year. Promise?”