Trouble finding Blondie (7 page)

Simona took a shower in another bathroom in the meantime. She came out in a bathrobe, smelling like almond milk.

“I’m going to feed him now. Would you mind taking care of the bathroom, please?”

“Of course not, but please call me Madame Bonnet.”

Simona laughed and took the baby. ”Madame Bonnet doesn’t clean bathrooms, silly.”

Andre cleaned up the bathroom, picked up the toys, and came out to the bedroom. He walked into something he didn’t expect. Simona was lying in the middle of the bed, surrounded by pillows, in her soft bathrobe, nursing Francois. She was smiling, but Andre was in shock. It was all over his face, and he couldn’t hide it either. Simona couldn’t tell if it was a good or a bad shock. She stopped smiling, moved up, looking worried, and Francois made a protesting sound. She made a loving gesture, caressing his hair, giving him his milk supply back.
 

Andre walked over, lay down on the bed behind Francois, facing Simona.

I can’t tell if he is freaked out in a good way or bad way? How come I can’t read him anymore? Is it because of the long time apart? Is it because he is different? Either way, these are my last precious moments. If he can’t handle them, too bad! Leave!

He kissed Francois on his head and reached to touch Simona’s face.
 

“Wow, this is amazing. I don’t think I have seen anything more precious in my life. This is how they found the definition of ‘love and peace’.”

“Oh, God. I couldn’t tell if you were disgusted or pleased? You looked shocked.”

“What are you talking about? How can anybody be disgusted by this? This is mother nature at her best. I had no clue you nursed. I didn’t think you would after you fixed your boobs. Isn’t that going to mess them up?”

“Haha, maybe. But I couldn’t deny my child something that is essentially life changing for his health, and the rest of his life, because of my…what did you call them? Fixed boobs?” She laughed. “I only nurse him in the evening now, and it’s probably more ritual than anything else.”

They were switching sides. Andre stayed. Now he was looking at Francois, spooning with Simona. He could feel her body shiver even through the bathrobe. He started to kiss her on her neck. She was losing control over her body.

Francois was getting sleepy, she stopped the nursing before he was done, but she couldn’t stand the ‘torture’ by Andre any more. She got off the bed, holding Francois over her shoulder to let him burp. Andre was smiling, came over, kissed the baby and Simona, and squeezed them both in a hug.

“I’m going to hop in the shower. Where is the other bathroom, please?”

“To the right is another bedroom with a huge bathroom. The second drawer has all the necessities, new toothbrushes, too. The closet has a brand new guest pajamas, boxers, outfits in all sizes. The ‘man of the house’ is the greatest host, what can I say?” Simona turned around with a peculiar smile.

“Oh, so that is your mutual attraction?” Andre laughed out loud and walked away.

Simona slowly walked into the bedroom. Andre was in the shower singing. She sat on the bed, too nervous waiting. It felt like a first date. Simona entered the bathroom, watched his naked body, then dropped the robe, and walked into the shower. He didn’t notice until she touched him from behind. The water washed everything away, pretenses, stubbornness, hurt feelings, all of it. It was just Trouble and Blondie, and it was amazing. The best love making of all time…

Wrapped in towels, Andre picked her up, carried her to the bedroom, and dropped her on the bed. Simona was laughing like a little girl, pleading. “Let’s do it again, please.”

“Pretty, pretty please?” Andre had sparks in his eyes again.

“Yes, of course.”
 

And they did.....over, and over, and over. They finally fell asleep from complete exhaustion as the sun started coming up.

Simona woke up. The clock said 7:45 AM. She jumped out of bed in panic.

Holy crap! Where is Francois? I didn’t hear him. Is Marie-Laure here?

She walked into the bedroom. The crib was empty. She almost screamed and ran out to the kitchen. The picture in front of her was so ‘new’ that it took her a few seconds to process.

Andre was holding Francois, making breakfast, speaking French to him. The radio was playing. The kitchen was full of life and laughter. Francois was drooling over a baguette that he was holding like a treasure, trying to bite it with his tiny two teeth.

“Good morning, mommy. Slept well? My favorite outfit.”

Simona finally snapped out of her ‘shock therapy moment’ and noticed that she was completely naked.

“Very funny. I panicked.” She walked over and kissed them both.

“There better be some coffee chefs. Otherwise, I will not be a happy camper today.”

4

“WHAT EYES DON’T SEE,

THE HEART DOESN’T GRIEVE OVER.”

THE NEXT TWO days were pure heaven. They played, took naps, walks, cooked together, and laughed a lot. It was precious. They were both present in every moment. They both knew not to take it for granted, and they didn’t. It was too good to be true, but with their realistic personalities, they knew that this is the ‘magic’ that doesn’t last. That is why it’s called precious.

Francois was sleeping. They were in the kitchen cooking together, kissing, touching, tasting the food, drinking red wine, dipping bread in olive oil, and talking about Francois. Simona had a simple tank top and sweat pants on, covered with a chef’s apron. It was the sexiest outfit for Andre. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. They were both turned on, but she was like a snake, constantly getting away, laughing.
 

“You are like an eel in the ocean.”

She finally turned the stove off. The trout still had ten more minutes in the oven, perfect time for a quickie.

“You were saying?” She was taking her apron off, pulling her pants down, standing in the middle of the kitchen in her Calvin Klein underwear, smiling.

It was a perfect invite, and one that definitely raised their appetite.

Dinner was delicious. All the fresh country vegetables and ingredients made the meal one of a kind. The trout was fantastic; the herb butter made the skin crispy and delicious. Andre was licking his fingers, driving Simona crazy.

“So, can we finally finish the discussion we started two weeks ago and had on several occasions? Now we can have the real deal. Are you up for it?”

“Not sure how many glasses of wine I had. Fine, bring it!”

“Why didn’t you tell me your divorce was final? Why didn’t you talk to me about what was going on in your life?”

“That last year was hard. I had too many things to juggle and to keep some sense of normalcy at home. The boys didn’t know that Patrick and I were separated for almost two years before the divorce. I needed to make sure they were ok with the new situation. I was flying to France and New York. I finally had to quit the Four Seasons.”

“I felt like you changed your mind, and you didn’t know how to tell me. You started to keep secrets, flying on trips all the time. I was out of the loop.”
 

“I was trying to get my stories published. It was a long process, but I was finally so close. I wanted to surprise you. It was going to be my ticket out, to finally have enough money to move and take care of the boys comfortably.”

“What? All of that was work related?” Andre was genuinely surprised.
 

“Yes, but I did tell you that!” Simona was protesting.

“No. You had excuses, asking me to trust you, telling me you were working on something. That’s all I knew.”

“Well, ok, fair enough. I guess I should have come clean, but I also didn’t want to jinx it. You know me. I’m superstitious.”

“So, this was going on for months, and then we went on a vacation together.”

“Yes, you almost made me spill it. Then thankfully, we made a deal. It was going to be just fun, no serious talks, just enjoying each other. It was our first time in the Caribbean together, and we had a great time. I got pregnant.”

“On that vacation? That was March.”

“Math was always your strong subject. Yes, Francois was born on November 21st.”

“We moved in together before the vacation. I didn’t leave for Europe until May.”

“Yes, but you were really not ‘there’ anymore. Your mind was preoccupied somehow.”

“I came back to Maui in July. And you were already gone.”

“I was too busy with moving out, signing my contract, getting the boys to Europe for summer camps. I didn’t pay attention to my body. I didn’t find out until May.”

“Ok, so you were 2-3 months pregnant. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I found out the same day my first paycheck from the publisher arrived. I was so excited. I finally had freedom, independence, and enough cash to go. And I was pregnant, which was a miracle bonus. I was over the moon.”

“What the heck happened then? Where was I in that picture?”

“I called you. You were in a very ‘what the heck do you want, did you make up your mind finally’ bad mood. Then you said 'I met somebody’. It stabbed my heart, and I couldn’t breathe.”

“Oh my God. Ok, I was being an ass, but why you didn’t just say 'Listen asshole, snap out of it. I’m pregnant.”

“You didn’t want me. And I didn’t want somebody to want me just because I was pregnant. You can hire a surrogate for that.”

“I can’t believe you. Are you serious? Have you lost all your senses? Then what?”

“I paid all our debt off, told Patrick he could finally take a year off and move to Whistler. Have his dream come true, especially after I ruined his ‘dream family’ picture, and not have to worry about the kids’ school either.”

“How much money did you get?
 
I mean, what happened after the phone call?”

“Enough… Yes, that phone call killed me. I had a nervous break down, cried for three days, then looked in the mirror, and said to myself ‘Your pity party, feeling sorry for yourself, is over! You are responsible for another human being. This is not healthy for him.’. I was worried that I would miscarry. I was already considered a high risk pregnancy. He met someone, be happy for him, close the chapter.”

“Close the chapter? Just like that? You never thought I deserved the curtesy of knowing about my child?”

“Courtesy? As far as I was concerned, you blew it. And if I remember correctly, I told you from the beginning that I wouldn’t tell you. Look, this was my last chance for a baby. I felt entitled to him.”

“How about me?”

“You were young. You just ‘met someone’. You would have plenty more chances to have a baby.”

“Even after he was born? You never had a change of heart?”

“I called you after he was born. You picked up, and I couldn’t speak...”

❖ ❖ ❖

Andre woke up to a weird sound. Simona was using a breast pump in the kitchen. Francois was sitting in a high chair, happily chewing, picking up food from his tray.
 

“Good morning. Why did you not wake me up?”

“Why? We are just starting anyway.”

“Why are you pumping?”

“I had wine last night. I have to get it out of my system.”

“But, you said you only nurse at night, no?”

“Yes, so I have to pump at least twice during the day to make sure the evening milk will not have anything left.” Simona thought it was cute how he became curious about everything.

“So, what about the milk you give him in the morning and before his nap?”

“That is a formula that I make myself. I didn’t want him to be on the commercial crapy formulas. I got that recipe from a health expert years ago, when Arye was little. It’s goat’s milk. Babies can’t have cow’s milk until one year old; colostrum powder that is usually in breast milk; cod liver oil; and protein powder.”

“Wow, no wonder this is a happy go lucky child.” Andre laughed.
 

Francois was taking his morning nap in the stroller. Andre and Simona were cuddling on the blanket by the pond.

“Trouble, are we ever going to get sick of this?”

“What is ‘this’? Us? Or making love?”

“Making love, of course.”

“Never. Come here. Let me prove it to you.”

It was a morning delight and a nice siesta.

Andre had a curious look and a smile that she knew so well.

“What is the question? Spill it!”

“What is your number, Blondie?”

“Wow, FBI is back. Is it confession time?”

“Yes, I will tell you mine.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“What? I’m going tell you anyway. And I still want to know yours.”

“Ten.” Simona said with a serious face.

Andre’s heart dropped, and then he looked at her. She was still serious, but her eyes were laughing. He knew her well.

“Bullshit. I’m not buying it.”

Simona got mad that he always sees through her. She stood up and started to pack.

“Come on, Blondie. You know we are one. Spill it. I will start torturing you.” She started laughing, running away, screaming in her high pitch voice. He was running after her. Andre was a runner. Simona had no chance.