Trouble finding Blondie (34 page)

A classic, brilliant way of Philippe’s telling everyone what to do, without any room to wiggle.
 
Nobody would dare let the children starve. The chef was very happy to serve the kids’ stuff first to get it out of his way, and to be able to concentrate on his real culinary creations.

Everyone was happily seated, looking their best, with a champagne glass ready for a toast. Andre stood up. He kissed Elise and Simona, and blew kisses to his mini-me on the opposite side of the table.

“If I start something deep and sentimental, I’m sure I will start crying here in front of you. So, I’m gonna let you in on something private. Simona told me this morning that she would do anything in the bedroom tonight if I don’t mention her in my speech, if I don’t go all goo goo gaga about her. All I knew was that there was a surprise, and Philippe was in charge of dinner. My surprise was the Zatopek clan. This I couldn’t imagine even if I wanted to. You are all aware I’m giving up some serious pleasure here tonight…” Everyone started laughing, except for Francois who was demanding the translation of ‘pleasure’… “But I have to say that you got me not once, but twice tonight. I would love to say payback is a bitch, but the truth is I can’t ever top this so I won’t even try. Simona, my Simona, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You are way out of my league, but you are mine, and everyone better watch out. I don’t ever want to be apart from you, especially on my birthday.”

“That’s enough, PLEEEEASE!” Simona was begging him to stop.

“She taught me many lessons, but the most important one was about relationships. That you have to feed every relationship, otherwise it will die of anorexia. That your success is not measured by what you have, but how many hearts you touch. And looking around this table, I must have done something right, unless she paid you all off.”

The laughter was getting lauder and the cheers were coming from everywhere.

“Papa, who is saying grace?”

“I don’t know, Francois. Would you like to say grace?” Andre asked.

“Yes, but the grown-ups don’t have their food yet.”

“It’s ok. You guys will eat first. Let’s say grace now. Everyone, this is an American tradition that we adopted. Please put your hands together and bow your heads for a prayer.”

“Thank you for this yummy food. I’m grateful for my mama, papa, and all the people that love me. God bless all these people at the table who came for Papa’s birthday. Amen!”

“Amen.”

Simona and Andre smiled at each other, being used to their miracle boy, blowing kisses to the other side of the table. Francois had two cushions to sit on in order to be on the same level as everyone else. The dinner was fantastic, the service was flawless, and yet, she couldn’t help but think…

THIS IS PERFECTION......it really doesn’t get any better. Thank you, Jesus.

Simona asked for the staff to come out. She waited for Mr. Arnaud to finish directing his staff, like an opera conductor. Then she stood up with her wine glass in her hand. Philippe was making the silver to crystal glass noise. Even the kids quieted down to silence.

“Wow, I better say something now before you all throw yourselves to the dessert table or onto the dance floor. I would like to express my gratitude to all of you coming from far away, for accepting my invitation, and also for keeping it a secret.”

“I kept a biiig secret, right, mama?”

“Yes, Francois, you were amazing. Even when papa was quizzing you FBI style.”

Everyone laughed, and Francois was smiling, very proud of himself.

“I appreciate all the compliments and praise, but this was a team effort. I would never have been able to pull this off without Philippe. Merci beaucoup, Philippe. And if you would kindly turn around, let me introduce you to Chef Bernard and his magicians: the culinary staff and Monsieur Arnaud with his invisible staff, trained to perfection.

The applause was genuine and well deserved.

“I wanted this night to be special and memorable. There are forty lanterns above the table, representing each year of Andre’s life, and 33 blue butterflies, symbolically representing all the changes butterflies go through. Andre was a boy, coming out of the communist era of the unknown, through many adversities, dark, maybe even scary, times. And out came this beautiful, successful butterfly with blue eyes. They are handmade from Indian silk with Italian design, and they are truly one of a kind. The 33 dragonflies symbolize not only his passion for flying, but their wings remind me of angel wings: his little mini-me on the other side of the table. And the 33 Swarovski crystals to symbolize what he means to me. They look like diamonds. Andre is my rough diamond that will always stand out. Like a diamond between the rocks.”

Everyone was getting teary eyed. Andre was kissing Simona’s hand. She was smiling, not rushing any of it.

“Why 33?”

“Thank you for asking, Adam. Do you know why?”

“No clue.”

“I know,” Andre said, looking at his younger brother. “Because men get their shit together at 33, the so-called Jesus Christ years.”

“Very good, Andre,” Simona said. “That is very true, but that’s not the reason why...”

“Because there are 33 guests here?”

“Who said that?”

“Arye said that,” Francois was proudly announcing his brother as the winner.

“Yes, thank you, my smart son,” Simona proudly agreed. “There are 33 people at this table. My other son Cori couldn’t come, unfortunately. Everyone is welcome to take your butterflies, dragonflies, and crystals home.”

“Those are your party favors, people. So don’t be expecting any additional bags.”

“Thanks, Brian,” Simona finished her speech with smile.

The last thing on Simona’s checklist was the cake. It was a pastry wonder of two layers of fluffy cheesecake with berries and flowers: all in purple and blue colors. Only a closer look revealed that the flowers were not real but were made from marzipan.

The lights were turned off, the music was silenced, and Philippe released the magical creation from the top. All the kids were carrying the two layered cake. They had to master three big steps from the top patio to the lower patio, where the table was set up. Arye was holding the cake for safety down the stairs. When they reached the flat surface, the music started. Francois and Mateas were carrying the cake with all the girls around them.

Andre had tears in his eyes as he was blowing out the candles.
 

“Papa, make a wish, make a wish.” Francois exclaimed.

“I did, but all my wishes already came true.”

“Really? Well, what did you wish then?” Francois asked.

“No, you can’t say. It won’t come true.” Mateas protested.

“Well, I only wished that this was a reality. Not a dream kind of a thing.”
“Papa, you are funny. It’s real. I can pinch you,” Francois giggled.

Everyone was laughing, the music started playing, all the chocolate lovers went to the dessert table, and the chef came out with a big knife to cut up the cheesecake. The first piece went to Andre, and Francois jumped into Andre’s lap with two forks.

“Papa, strawberries yum yum.”

“Not just strawberries, silly, it’s all the berries.”

Predictably, Francois had two bites and was busy running off to find his cousins.

“Wait! You forgot something,” Andre was scolding him.

“That’s only mama’s rule.”

“Since when? Mama established the rule, and now it’s a household rule.”

Francois stood there for a second, then reconsidered, “Ok, papa, it’s your birthday.”

“Heeeey! Only because it’s my birthday?”

Francois was giggling, kissing Andre, and running off.

“What’s the riot about?” Simona asked.

“Your son refused to follow the rule of, ‘don’t ever leave without kissing me.’”

“My son? Hmm, my son never leaves without kissing me. It must be ‘your’ son.”

“I’m never leaving you two alone for two weeks again, that’s for sure.”

Simona was laughing as Andre grabbed her to make the rounds. He was either holding her hand or had a possessive grip on her waist. Adam noticed Andre was doing all the talking, catching up with all his friends. Simona was smiling, enjoying watching him.

“Excuse me, can I steal Simona from you?” Adam asked.

“No.”

“NO? Are you serious? Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m a prisoner,” Simona explained. “I can’t leave his side tonight.”

“Well, I would like to dance with you if it’s ok with your slave master?”

“Hmm, ok, but bring her back,” Andre relented.

“We’ll see.”

❖ ❖ ❖

The dance floor was officially opened. The first ones were the youngest and the oldest. Adam was a great dancer. Simona was in heaven.
 

“Simo...”

“Adam, not you. You know me well enough. I have to take glory in small doses. I’m maxed out right now,” Simona was sporting a peculiar smile, like a tomboy.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I’m full of myself,” she was laughing out loud.

“You were right, but I’ll skip it tonight then. Do you remember what you told me years ago? We were both going through shit, in our own ways.”

“Adam, I said a lot of things. Spill it.”

“You said, ‘ONE THING I KNOW FOR SURE, I WON’T SETTLE ANYMORE. IF I DON’T FEEL THE DESIRE, IF I AM NOT THE OBJECT OF SOMEONE’S WORLD, AND HE DOESN’T WAKE UP EVERY MORNING FEELING LIKE THE LUCKIEST MAN NEXT TO ME, I DON’T WANT HIM NEXT TO ME. HE DESERVES BETTER, AND SO DO I…’”

“I remember. And you said, ‘WHERE DO I SIGN?’”

“Well, here we are. Looking at the two of you, I don’t have to ask I guess.”

“Adam, I feel so blessed. In the past, I would be rehearsing tragedy, like it’s too good to be true, you know?”

“It is too good to be true. But you are my perfect example of miracles, possibilities, and dreams coming true.”

“How about you? Do you feel like the luckiest man every morning?”

“Maybe not every, but I’m right behind you I think. I love my life.”

“I’m so grateful, Adam, for everything. I decided I would dare greatly and enjoy every minute of it.”

“Amen. You earned it, Simona. This is good karma coming back to you.”

“I love you, Adam. Thanks for letting me in...”

For anyone overhearing their conversation, it could have sounded twisted, interpreted in many different ways. But for them, they both knew what they were talking about. For Simona ‘letting in’ meant into the family, trusting each other, even when they struggled with their partners, and building a bond to mend bridges in the Zatopek’s mafia.

“And by the way, my wife looks stunning tonight, thanks to you.”

“The good news, Adam, is that she is the same underneath the clothes. You are one lucky man.”

“My brother is a lucky man. Simona, I really thought he would propose tonight.”

“What?!”
 

“With that speech, he really had me going...”

“Adam, I didn’t need the proclamation of love. And I certainly don’t need a ring. Thank you for the lovely dance.”

Adam was left on the dance floor, wondering…

“What did you do?” came out of nowhere. It was Elise.

“I think I just hit a nerve, mom,” Adam said.

Simona was about to leave the dance floor when a ‘man’ yelled.

“Wait! I believe you owe me a dance.”
“Haha. You watch way too many movies, but I believe you are right, Monsieur. What would you like to dance?”

Francois danced with mama in the kitchen almost every day. She taught him some quick line dances with few steps in each direction. But then he saw the Electric slide in a movie and was determined to master it one day. He did, and this was his moment to prove it. Everyone started clapping. The little four-year-old danced like his life depended on it. Francois moved with such lightness that it seemed he had been performing and dancing for years. It was mesmerizing. The powerful duo forgot about the world. They danced for each other like they had done so many times in the kitchen.
 

Half way through the song, Andre climbed up, trying to catch up with the steps. He finally got it, and the last round was in perfect harmony of the magic trio. The little mini ME, a perfect mix of the two, right in the middle.

They were bowing to huge applause, whistling, and all the girls were climbing up onto the stage to learn the steps. It was a great exit strategy for Simona until a hand out of nowhere grabbed her waist again.

“Where are you off to?”

“I’m dying! I need a drink.”

“Snobbish water?”

“Ha! Be careful. This is Europe. Everyone drinks Pellegrino.”

“One coming up. Don’t move...”

Simona got dragged back by the girls to teach them the steps.

“Come on, where are all the Americans? It’s like a national dance.”

“National black dance, maybe,” Brian was protesting.