by Judy Fischer
She let the pocketbook rest on her swollen belly as she read the words out loud. She knew the baby growing inside her was listening and although the content was quite racy, soul-bending and laden with profound emotions; she read it to her daughter Renée Michelle Fortin, nonetheless. Melissa Drake, also known as Missy, was young and unwed. She was a soft-hearted woman, peace loving and a free spirit. She was often called that because of the clothes she wore, her nonchalant attitude and her bohemian lifestyle. Her long blonde hair hugged a daisy behind her ear and the image she portrayed was indicative of the times: the era of population explosions, Michael Jackson, Prince, teased hair and ripped jeans. Everyone called it the ’80s. It is not surprising that Missy’s daughter was born a lover. She is sure of it, for Renée had listened to the words of Terry Southern and his likes; eight other romance novelists filling her mother’s head and hers with idealistic words.
There were stacks of books lying on the floor of Missy’s beachfront home in the Chesapeake Bay oceanside estate. The common theme of those books was love, some with happy endings, some with not. For every month of Missy’s pregnancy, another book was read. During the nine-month gestation period, Renée, in utero, heard more words about love and loving, sex and lust than she did following her birth and throughout her formative years. However, it can be noted, somehow hearing those tender words of affection, devotion, unconditional adoration and passion set the stage for her life’s story.
‘Was it a curse or a gift?’ Renée could never determine the answer.
