Matching Wits with Venus

by Therese Gilardi

  Amelia continued walking through the garden, her head down. Although her meeting with Carmenta had been fruitless, both the goddess’s friendliness and Bacchus’s generosity had made her believe not all gods were out to make life miserable for mortals. Her trip to the underworld was over.

  As she walked, heel toe heel toe heel toe, Amelia’s thoughts drifted back to her own world. She hoped Gerard’s health hadn’t deteriorated during her absence. Perhaps some sort of miracle had even occurred and he was now no longer being wrongfully accused of attempting to destroy the natural world. On and on she walked, oblivious to the downed trees in the distance.

  ****

  “So you’re not going to tell me anything?”

  Carmenta smiled slightly.

  “You know Venus, for centuries I’ve said we would make a terrific team. But you’ve never wanted any part of working with me.”

  Venus shifted from her left foot to her right foot as Mercury looked past the two women, toward a point on the horizon only he could see. He was hoping to spot Inuus and his minions cavorting across the edge of the earth, arrows in hand. But all he saw was dust.

  “I’m sorry about that Carmenta. I, I always thought you had your eyes set on Cupid, and it scared me. Come on, you’ve got your own baby now,” Venus said, glancing over at the bundle of blue sleeping in a Moses basket in the shade, “Surely you understand.”

  Carmenta chuckled. Sunlight bounced off of her glossy full lips. She thrust her hands on her hips and stepped forward.

  “Venus, Venus, Venus. I have a feeling you’re going to regret the day you turned your back on me. Now your house is going to be besmirched in a way even I could have never conceived of.”

  Venus’s eyes flashed.

  Carmenta furrowed her brow. She reached out and touched the edge of Venus’s ivory robe.

  “You know I’m actually sorry for you. I wouldn’t wish the harm you’ve about to have on anyone.”

  Venus glared at Mercury’s back.

  “Merc, come on. It’s time to go.”

  She strode past Carmenta without a backward glance.

  “Well?” He asked as they made their way into Rome.

  “That was useless. She’s just as crazy as I’ve always heard. I’ll bet she’s in league with that matchmaker to destroy me.”

  Mercury looked at Venus’s flushed face. She knew he had overheard her conversation with Carmenta.

  “A plague on my house! She knows nothing. Don’t you agree?”

  Mercury made no reply.

  ****

  Amelia screamed as she felt a pair of firm hands grab her from behind.

  “Amelia, it’s me!”

  Cupid spun her around.

  She looked up into his clear blue eyes. She’d never noticed the way his rims were the exact shade of the ocean far offshore. As she stared she noticed the small bags below his eyes. He ran his hand along her face, then gently tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “I was afraid I’d never find you,” he said huskily, pulling her into his chest.

  Amelia collapsed against Cupid’s firm body. She began to cry with relief as she realized Cupid had come after her. She rubbed her head against his shoulder and inhaled his familiar scent. He cupped her chin in his hand, tilted her head backward and kissed her tenderly.

  “I was so worried you were gone forever.”

  She stepped backward and looked up at him.

  “That’s ridiculous. You’re the one who ran out on me. And you know where I live which is more than I can say about you.”

  Cupid pulled her hands to his mouth and caressed her knuckles with his lips.

  “I didn’t mean to walk out on you. My mother….”

  “Venus.”

  Cupid hung his head.

  “You know,” he said, looking at the ground.

  “Of course I know! We’re standing here in the underworld, aren’t we?”

  Amelia kicked the tall grass with her boot.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  A wave of nausea overcame her and she sat beneath a large oak tree.

  Cupid spread his hands then dropped to his knees beside her.

  “I wanted to. That night at your house, I was about to tell you but then the earthquake struck and afterwards….”

  “Yeah, afterwards,” she said distantly.

  “Amelia! I’m sorry. I love you.”

  She looked over at the face that had danced before her eyes since the day he’d first entered her shop. No matter what he’d done, she loved him. She had the baby to prove it.

  “My mother had me imprisoned in an effort to keep us apart. Ever since I broke out of the monastery where she had me held, I’ve been trying to find you,” Cupid said, his voice breaking.

  Amelia moved over and sat in his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smelled the sunshine that always seemed to cling to his skin. He reached down and ran his hand along the side of her face.

  “I love you more than I would have believed possible,” he said.

  “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

  "Really?" Cupid looked at her and grinned.

  “May I?” He asked, as he reached for her stomach.

  Amelia sighed happily as Cupid ran his hand along her hard belly. For the first time since she’d found out she was carrying Cupid’s child she had the sense that things would turn out all right. She put her hand on top of his and smiled.

  “You remind me of this famous actor I once had as a client,” she said as she studied his beautiful face. “He tried to pass himself off as a scientist. When I discovered his true identity and asked why he’d misrepresented himself on my personality profile, he’d replied that he just wanted to know, for one day, what it would be like to be a normal, anonymous man. I never would have imagined a god, let alone the god responsible for firing millions and millions of arrows into couples the world over, would have come to my little matchmaking business for that same reason.”

  She smiled and snuggled into him.

  As Cupid opened his mouth to speak, Amelia kissed him gently on the lips.

  Although Amelia had the feeling she’d been in the underworld for a long time, once she was reunited with Cupid, she felt no sense of urgency. They plucked berries from the nearby bush she hadn’t noticed, and drank brook water from each other’s hands. As she stood to grab another handful of berries, her notebook fell out of her pocket.

  “These images are really vivid,” Cupid said as he paged through the little book. “So much passion. You should really write them up as poems; I’ll bet someone would publish them.”

  Amelia smiled.

  “Actually someone already has. I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of the Los Angeles ‘queen of the sestina’?”

  “I have heard of her. Can, Candace Something. Candace Alberin?”

  “I can see her name’s not exactly memorable,” Amelia chuckled.

  Cupid looked at her, puzzled.

  “I’m not sure I understand. But look, she’s been able to get her stuff published. So can you.”

  “Oh I already have…you are looking at the queen herself,” Amelia said as she stuck out her hand. “You are now making the acquaintance of Ms. Candace Alberin.”

  Amelia bowed.

  Cupid laughed.

  “No way.”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Why I didn’t I know this already?”

  Amelia shrugged.

  “Jennie’s the only one who knows. I guess it’s because of my mother. I started writing poetry when I was a teenager. All of my teachers said I was really good. That I had ‘a unique voice’ and was ‘very creative’.”

  “So I’m sure your mother must have been very proud.”

  Amelia scoffed. “Yeah, if we’d had a normal family. You know she wasn’t exactly like one of those perfect sitcom moms she refused to play. I didn’t see her too often, but when I did, she was always going on about how she was so creative, why didn’t everyone in Hollywood se
e it.”

  She shook her head.

  “The thing is, even though I was pretty young at the time, I had enough other friends whose parents were in the industry that I understood she was really devastated by what she saw as a lack of recognition for her creativity. She’d always been really paranoid that everyone was out to compete with her. And I do mean everyone. So when I started getting all this praise for my ‘creativity’ I decided to keep my talents to myself. Jennie actually submitted some of my stuff for publication without telling me. One day I got this acceptance letter…Jennie kept insisting I should agree to have my stuff appear in print. So I decided I’d do what so many of the people my mother knew did–I’d invent a new working name. I figured there’d be no harm in that, and she’d never know.”

  Cupid picked up a blade of grass and rubbed it along his chin.

  “You know, I think you may be selling your mother short. It’s normal for children to want to achieve in their own right.”

  Amelia looked at him and smirked.

  “That’s easy for you to say. Your mother listens to your advice.”

  Cupid frowned.

  “So,” Amelia said, leaning against his chest. “Let’s forget about our families for a while. The important thing is, we no longer have any secrets.”

  Cupid grimaced.

  “Come on. You’ve read my work; now you really know my world. Why don’t you show me yours?”

  “It would be my pleasure,” Cupid replied, running his lips along her hairline. “Come on.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Your chariot awaits, Madame.”

  Cupid bowed with a flourish as his favorite white stead appeared pulling a long, golden carriage. He’d had Enrique whisk them back to Rome so he could finally show Amelia where he’d come from. He was certain that she would understand him and his notions of time better once she spent a few hours with him in the Eternal City.

  He held out his hands and helped Amelia up into the chariot. She patted the thick leather seat, which he’d had custom made by a Florentine craftsman, and smiled. Cupid grabbed the reigns, kissed Amelia on the tip of her sunburned nose and grinned.

  “As you say, welcome to my world.”

  He moved closer, wrapping his right arm around her shoulder.

  “You might want to hold on. Roman cobblestones can be pretty bumpy.”

  Amelia slipped her arms around Cupid’s waist and sighed happily as they sat, their thighs touching, atop the chariot.

  “Bienvenudo a Roma. Welcome to Rome,” Cupid called out above the clip- clop of the horse’s hooves.

  “It looks like a movie set,” Amelia gasped as they rounded a sharp corner and the Coliseum and Palatine Hill folded out below them.

  “How L.A.,” Cupid chuckled, and Amelia laughed.

  “You know what I mean,” she said, poking his side. “It’s a storybook come to life. Complete with modern gladiators.”

  Amelia pointed at a trio of men dressed in silver armor, carrying large shields and what she assumed were toy swords.

  “Ah, they’re the same hucksters that pose on Hollywood Boulevard in character costumes. Nice and friendly until the tourists taking their picture forget to cough up a tip.”

  “I know. One of the superheroes cracked open a guy’s skull a few years ago,” Amelia replied.

  She looked at the throngs of visitors, foreheads gleaming in the sun, arms and knees covered in compliance with the dress code of nearby basilicas.

  “Why don’t they see us?”

  “We gods have the ability to make ourselves invisible whenever we wish. It really comes in handy when we want to run a red light,” Cupid replied as he nosed his horse against the traffic. “While you’re with me, you are also shielded from view.”

  Amelia frowned slightly.

  “And there it is, the Fontana Trevi. The Trevi Fountain,” Cupid announced, sweeping his arm to the side. “Come on, toss a coin to ensure you will return to Rome. Although of course you will, with me.”

  Amelia climbed down and threw the silver disc Cupid pressed into her palm over her shoulder. She heard the coin land in the fountain with a large splash. She opened her eyes. Cupid was standing in front of her, his chest pressed to hers.

  “I did miss you, you know. I thought about you every minute we were apart.”

  She smiled.

  “I know.”

  Amelia studied the large statues and watched other visitors taking pictures of themselves as they tossed their money.

  “Come, we see the Vatican next. I promise you a special surprise.”

  Cupid lifted her back into the chariot.

  “Have you always looked like this?” She asked.

  “What? Of course not. First I was a bambino, a small baby.”

  “You must’ve been beautiful,” Amelia muttered. She turned to him.

  “When exactly was this, that you were a baby?”

  Cupid shrugged.

  “I cannot say for sure. I have no frame of reference, not the same calendar as you, you know?”

  Amelia bit her lip.

  Cupid reached over and fondled her hair. “I promise you this won’t disappoint.”

  He pulled into St. Peter’s Square and stopped the chariot under the window where the Pope appeared to adoring audiences on Sundays.

  “Don’t worry, he won’t mind; my mother’s helped the Vatican out of many…situations.”

  Amelia nodded.

  “Look at that dome!”

  Cupid smiled.

  “They certainly knew what they were doing,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Come on, let me show you what my friend, Michelangelo, did.”

  Amelia gasped as they stood in the Sistine Chapel, necks craned, looking at the pastel images all around them. The guards shushing the crowds did not see them, nor did the other visitors. When they were done admiring the galleries full of paintings they returned to the massive courtyard in front of the church.

  “Padre! Padre!”

  Cupid and Amelia turned in the direction of the voices shouting, “Father! Father!” and saw that the pope had appeared at his window. The pontiff gazed down at the crowd, many of whom were now on their knees, and held up his right hand to make the sign of the cross. Amelia teared up, overcome by the devotion of the crowd. She bowed her head, along with the pilgrims around her.

  “And now, I will take you to have the best gelato in all of Italy,” he said hoarsely, caressing her face.

  They climbed aboard the chariot and Cupid pushed his horse on to his favorite ice cream parlor, where Amelia ordered a waffle cone with straciatella and Nutella. She sighed happily as she licked the sweet dessert.

  “I always heard pregnant women like ice cream,” Cupid said shyly.

  Amelia smiled.

  “You’ve got that right. Although I don’t know about mixing it with pickles.”

  “Pickles?”

  “Yeah. There’s a running joke in the U.S. that pregnant women like ice cream mixed with pickles. Sounds pretty gross to me.”

  Cupid frowned slightly, trying to understand.

  “This has been wonderful, a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Amelia said. “But I’ve got to get home. My father’s in the hospital and he’s got some legal problems.”

  “Of course, we go now.”

  Cupid pulled back on the reigns of his stead and the chariot shot forward.

  ****

  “I don’t know, Jennie. I can’t help feeling Gerard’s right and these earthquakes have something to do with Amelia.”

  Stella was perched on the edge of her cinnamon sofa, biting her nails ragged, as she leaned forward, straining to take in all of the images streaming across the screen of her portable television.

  Outside the Pope’s window, hundreds of priests, brothers and sisters lay on the ground, hands folded, heads bowed in prayer, chanting decade after decade after decade of the rosary. Half way across the world, t-shirt clad hippies paraded along the main street of Palm Springs wear
ing sandwich boards bearing the message that all had better repent as the end of the world was imminent. Sporting goods stores from coast to coast were sold out of survivalist gear as millions stocked up on the guns, metal cooking pots and freeze dried foods they believed would help them somehow survive the upcoming Armageddon.

  Jennie put her arm around Stella and frowned. It did seem absurd that the phenomena captivating the world could have anything to do with her childhood friend, and yet … Amelia was pregnant with the child of a Roman god, so anything was possible. And there was no denying that it was Cupid’s homeland where the land was splitting inexplicably into jagged seams.