Trouble finding Blondie (18 page)

Simona was laughing out loud and couldn’t even talk to the waiter who politely left, just to return when she was ready.
 

“We will have the right side of the menu now,” Philippe announced.

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

“He was kidding. We will just have your truffle risotto and will save room for dessert,” Simona saved the waiter.

“Yes Madame, very well. Merci.”

“Ha, you chickened out? You are going to be a cheap date after all.”

“Don’t push it, or I will order some Louis XIII cognac with my dessert,” she threatened.

“Ok, so unless you have some crazy vision of turning into a wild chick, I don’t see you looking for anyone else.”

“In that scenario, no. I don’t believe in love forever. Never did. The first time I fell in love, I was 18, and I could hardly process it, not really appreciate it, for sure. The second time, 20 years later it snuck up on me with Andre. You are right. I don’t need another round. I don’t have the will, interest or energy, none of it.”

“Wow, people who don’t really know you would go into a debate over that. You are the biggest flirt, but when it comes to ‘diving in’, it’s like leprosy for you.”

“Maybe you infected me with your bachelor serum.”

“Let’s take you out of it. How about your boys?”

“That’s the thing, too. I guess their arrival stirred up all these feelings and memories. In real honesty, Andre never made any effort with my kids. He didn’t love them. He liked them. They were good kids, but he didn’t really get to know them.”

“What do you mean? Didn’t you guys live together?”

“Well, it was partly my fault. I wanted to make sure they were adjusting well to the split, that I gave them my full attention. I split my week between the kids and Andre.”

“Oh, so you had two places?”

“Yes, at first. Then we finally merged the homes. My kids were pushing me to do it. That helped me get over my doubts. Then two months later, shit went down.”

“Ohhh…”

“My boys didn’t need to get hurt. He could have spared them.”

“I’m not sure if I like this asshole now.”

“Well, to his defense, he was amazing in the aftermath. He wrote to me, left me messages. It was very different than my ex-husband who never took any responsibility, never apologized, or made amends. Andre did everything right. It was so refreshing not only to hear, ‘I FUCKED UP. I’M REALLY SORRY. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.’, but he also walked the talk. I was gone. I left money in an account to finish our lease, but he never touched it. He not only held to his part of the bargain, but went way out of his way. He was beyond generous. He grew inches, redeemed himself, and I forgave him.”

“That sounds more like a real man. But what’s with the kids?”

“In real honesty, it never bothered me. He liked them, and they respected him. I wasn’t going to force either party to do more.”

“Yes, but he had the perfect position, no? He didn’t have to raise them, discipline them. All he had to do was to earn their respect and have fun with them.”

“Wow, that’s your analogy? Because that is exactly what I thought about this morning. You made more effort, spent more time with my boys in one year than he did in five.
 
You earned their trust and their respect.”

“That’s sad. Maybe it’s maturity. Maybe he is different now.”

“Is he? Did he work on himself? Did he recognize his fuck ups and grow from it?”

“Look. I don’t know him, but his energy is genuine.”

“Why should the situation change, just because now he has a reason to stay, his child? Does he give a shit only because of Francois? Or do my boys and I matter, too?”

“The guy went across half of the world looking for you. He had no clue about Francois. You are asking some tough questions. There aren’t any simple answers. Only time will tell.”

“So, we are just going to risk it?”

“Risk what?”

“Screw me one time, shame on you. Screw me twice, shame on me?”

“Only you can decide if that’s a risk you are willing to take.”

“You realize if I ever get there, I’m calling your ass, and you can’t say, ‘Shame on you’ because you basically talked me into it.”

“Fair enough. Dessert?”

Marcello was happily fed and patiently waiting outside. Simona and Philippe didn’t pay attention to their surroundings, fully engaged in their conversation, until it dawned on them that they had been left alone.

“Are we the last ones again?”

“Does that surprise you? It’s like a bad habit with you. Always closing restaurants.”

“It’s because you talk so much.”

“No, it’s because you talk back. It never happens on my dates with models.”

“And that should be an argument how? They don’t go out with you to talk.”

The lunch was over three hours long, and counting the drive, they were out of Paris for four hours. The boys were probably home, and Philippe’s secretary was going crazy. They
 
wouldn’t know; they left their phones inside the car. Marcello would answer any emergency, so they could have the time for each other without being bugged by the outside world.

“What’s the conclusion then?”

“I feel better. I said everything out loud. It’s out in the Universe. I need some time to process. I’m going to Barcelona for ten days. I think he will be going to Prague.”

“When are you leaving?”

“I don’t need your plane,” Simona smiled at Philippe.
 

“I didn’t ask if you needed it. I just need to tell Raphael to have it ready.”

“Classic. I have no say.”

“Only in some things, not when you’re slightly ridiculous. My godchild is not going to fly on some dirty charter plane if not absolutely necessary.”

“I can see the headlines already. Spoiled rotten trust fund baby out of control.”

“Baby maybe. Toddler, child, and tough love are coming.”

“Terrible twos are coming. You will be on.”

The ride back to Paris was pleasant, mostly in silence, listening to Marcello’s music. It was almost unusual for them not to talk. Simona was leaning against Philippe’s shoulder, and he was holding her hand in his lap.

“Simona, how do you do that? How do you forgive people who harm you, who hurt your heart, shake up your soul, brake your trust. How do you do that?

“That’s the easy part, Philippe. You forgive, not for them, but for you. You can’t heal or move on if you carry all that inside. I see people carrying that shit for decades. It’s like cancer. It eats you alive, and you are stuck. I have seen it as a kid. Decades of family feuds, broken relationships, time lost. I pledged to myself to be different. I really don’t know what hate feels like.”

“I never thought of it that way. If someone does that to me, they are dead to me.”

“Philippe, to forgive doesn’t mean you have to tell them. It doesn’t even mean you have to be around them. You just have to do it in your heart.”

“Simo, what’s going to happen to us now?”

“I waited for this question all day. I was scared to ask. You are the brave one, Philippe, but neither of us is a fool. It’s not going to be the same if I give this relationship with Andre a second chance...”

“I know, but that should not be relevant to your decision.”

“How so? You are my best friend now. You earned my trust, you were willing to build our relationship on integrity, honesty, and you make me feel safe and loved.”

“Merci, cherie. I really don’t know what to say.”

Simona sat up and looked at Philippe. That’s when he realized that she had tears running down her cheeks. “Oh my God. Stop. This feels like a break up, or you moving to China.”

Philippe started wiping her tears off, smudging her ‘waterproof’ mascara, making a mess. It was very uncomfortable for Philippe, and unusual for Simona to be displaying emotions and vulnerability.
 

He had seen her in every possible situation, even almost dying, but this was as rare as it gets. Philippe asked Marcello to pull over. He stepped out of the car, pulling Simona like a rubber doll. When she got out, he hugged her, caressing her hair, kissing her face. It wasn’t clear if he was calming her down, or himself. He was getting lost kissing her. It was an overwhelming energy. Simona pulled away to see his face.

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“I said marry me.”

“Why?”

“Because I never felt anything like this. I have never had a relationship like this.”

“You are asking me for all the wrong reasons.”

“Wrong reasons?”

“Yes, you are panicking. You are afraid to lose me. Those are wrong reasons.”

“I love you. Isn’t that the reason?”

“No..... You don’t want to get married. You are not even sure if you want family life. You are just sure of one thing. You don’t want to lose me, and that’s your idea of fixing it.”

“And who made you the expert of what I think, feel, and want?”

“I know because I love you, too. Don’t ever ask me this for the wrong reasons again.”

“Doesn’t love count for anything then?”

“Yes, but true love has to come from intimacy, and intimacy comes from allowing yourself to be vulnerable.”

“What are you saying? I’m not?”

“You can’t get to courage without being vulnerable.”

“So, now I’m not only closed off, but I’m a wuss, too?”

“No, look at me, Philippe. You are just not there yet. It doesn’t just happen. You have to be willing. You have years of practice at shutting down, closing off. And you have that down to perfection. Nobody can push you the other way. You have to make that decision and walk that path. It’s not only not easy, but scary, too.”

“You are speaking alien, but I’m not scared. I just don’t know how…”

“When you are ready to talk about my birth experience, I’ll believe you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Being honest and vulnerable. That’s what I mean. And what I’m saying is you don’t have to go alone, I’ll hold your hand.” Simona grabbed his hand and walked back to the car, pushing him in, almost the same way as he pulled her out.
 

Marcello was standing in the distance, giving them privacy. As a true master and protector of his cargo, he set up warning triangles of a broken car. He feared the two of them would be hit by traffic, passionately involved in their conversation, without even noticing it.

The silence was heavy, not like the pleasant, after lunch peaceful state with music. Philippe drifted away which looked like a dark place, and Simona was still holding his hand almost like a reaffirmation of her statement. Marcello asked who was being dropped off first. When Philippe didn’t answer, still lost in his own world, Simona told him to go to his office first. She cleaned up her face. Marcello parked in front of his office building and got out of the car to give them privacy and to protect them from the outside world. Philippe took a deep breath, turned towards Simona to face her. “Did I screw this up?”

“No, quite the opposite. You finally cracked.”

“Now what?”
“Now you are open. Maybe go discover your inside, flip the light, or just go to take a peek. Baby steps.”

“And you?”

“I’m going to stew.”

“You brought sunshine to my life. Don’t take my sunshine away.”

“Don’t be silly. You have to be my friend forever. You know way too much.”

“Today was amazing. I hope this feeling of ‘last supper’ is just my paranoia.”

“Jesus, Philippe.”

“Yeah, don’t bring Him into this. It was His last.”

“Merci for lunch.”

She held his face and kissed him. It felt different than ever before. Simona made one of her x-ray vision looks, trying to see if he felt it too. He did. “Philippe, it’s Elizabeth Gilbert’s famous word....”

“ATTRAVERSIAMO??”

“Bravo. You got it. You just need to ‘cross over.’”

10

"TOO MUCH TOO FAST. TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE."

MARCELLO DROPPED HER off. She walked up the stairs lost in her thoughts. The automatic motion of getting keys, combined with absentmindedly opening the door, was a perfect recipe for the conspiracy happening inside the apartment. Everyone was in hiding, ready to come out to scare her. The BOOOO came out of nowhere. Simona screamed in the highest pitch ever and dropped her purse. Her knees buckled, and she almost broke the heel on one of her sandals. The mission was hugely successful, and the laughs were hysterical. The only two people not laughing were Francois and Simona. Andre was holding Francois who was reaching his hands for mama. Simona was holding her chest with one hand and keeping her pretzel twisted pose, leaning against the door with another. Andre walked closer, and Francois started touching her face. Simona finally took a big breath and smiled. “Ok, ok munchkin, let me just get these shoes off.” She was struggling with her high strappy sandals, unable to get the buckle off.

“You two clowns, come take my shoes off, please.”