“He has no intention of cleaning this place up. He wants us out of here.”
Charles quickly turned his head to the instructor. “What do you mean he wants you out?”
“I give dancing instructions to underprivileged girls basically free of charge. Everything I put in this school is with my own money. And since I have been retired from dance for many years I have to be careful with every dime. So I am how you say…frugal.”
She turned off the music. “The original owner of this house, the father of the current landlord, liked what I was doing for these girls so he gave me a 10 year lease. In the 10 years they could not raise the rent for the school for more than $25 each year. The original landlord never raised the rent but he died about two years ago and left the house to his greedy son who does nothing but turn these beautiful homes into condos.” Madame Gano sighed. “My 10 years are up in a couple of months. He has informed me that the rent will be doubled. Doubled! The bastard,” she said under her breath.
“Madame Gano do you like what you do here?” Charles said standing directly in front of her.
“I love what I do and I love my girls,” she said with her chin up and the same look of determination I saw in the girls.
“Is this something you want to do for a long time to come?” Charles asked again.
“With my very last breath,” she answered.
“Good,” Charles said nodding his head.
“But that stupid landlord is doubling the rent because he knows we can’t afford it. He wants to turn the studio into a condo like the ones upstairs. We will have to find a place to move to but the girls and I just love this place,” Madame Gano looked longingly out the window. “I love the light from the windows and the weeping willow.” Shaking her head. “I will miss it.”
He asked Madame Gano for the name of the landlord. She gave it to him and looked to me for answers. I just shrugged my shoulders. With that Charles pulled out his cell phone and called a local attorney. With a tone that broach no argument, he told the attorney to immediately contact the owner of the house. And without mentioning Charles’ name, make him an offer on the house. “I want my name on the deed by the end of the week.”
He disconnected the call and then called his personal secretary, Myra. He asked Madam Gano which bank held the school’s account. She told him. He instructed Myra to wire $10,000 to the schools’ account immediately. It was enough to pay the school’s rent for a year and then some. He immediately disconnected the phone.
Both Madame Gano and I looked at Charles in shock.
Charles took out his personal business card and wrote the name and number of a local house painter on the back of the card. He told her to contact the painter to make arrangements to do a complete paint job of the studio and have him check for mold. Let him know that Charles recommended him and to send the bill directly to Charles. He then instructed her to write up a business proposal and they will discuss future payments from the just newly formed “Jacqueline LeClair Dupree Scholarship Fund.”
When we left and got down to the bottom of the porch steps I stopped and turned Charles around. I looked into his eyes so filled with emotion. I pulled him to me and hugged him tight. I hugged the man he was and the little boy who still missed his Grandmother, Jacqueline, with every beat of his heart.
I kissed the top of his head and whispered in his ear, “I love you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the limo pulled up in front of Café Sophistique, a five star restaurant and night club located in the heart of the French Quarter, I was so excited I could barely keep my seat. I heard so much about this club and I was anxious to be a part of it. The club was a step back in time. The décor was something out of the late 1930’s – 1940’s. With all the glitz and glamour of old Hollywood. Where the men wore tuxedos and the women wore long evening gowns.
Charles, dressed in his Armani tuxedo, took my hand to help me from the limo. I wore a 40’s inspired evening gown by Vintage Christian Dior. It was ivory with gold beading design throughout. Strapless it was form fitting from the top down past my hips where the flowing material gathered and then flared. I wore a gold and diamond teardrop necklace that accentuated the generous sweetheart neckline of my gown along with matching earrings and bracelet.
Charles escorted me inside the club. The cathedral ceilings with enormous chandeliers and floor to ceiling mirrors on the wall, took my breath away.
The tables with place settings for two or four were draped with long flowing table clothes, lit candles, fine china, silverware, and stemware. The patrons were all dressed in “Old Hollywood” formal wear as well. The twenty-piece band was playing Duke Ellington’s “Satin Doll”. As the maître d escorted us to our table several people stopped and stared at us. Feeling good about us and the way we looked together I smiled up at Charles who winked at me.
After our wine was served we placed our food order.
“We’ll both have corn and crab bisque to start as well as crab cakes,” Charles said looking at the menu. “The lady would like the chicken Creole with Chile cream sauce and I’ll have the blackened red snapper. Thank you.”
We handed our menus to the waiter. And began to drink our wine.
“This place is gorgeous,” I said looking around at the restaurant and the people, so elegant all around.
“Yes, you are,” Charles said winking at me.
I felt myself blush.
We enjoyed our dinner and good conversation. Charles was still on cloud nine from being on stage the other night.
“This has been the best birthday I ever had. First playing on stage last night. And today, visiting my grandmother’s dance studio.” He took my hand. “That was so thoughtful of you, Simone. I can’t even begin to thank you enough.”
“Yes, you can,” I said with a smile. “You can ask me to dance.”
We danced a few songs and then went back to our table. It was time for dessert.
Because Charles threatened me in advance with being drawn and quartered, I refrained from having the wait staff sing happy birthday to him. I instead settled for two large pieces of coconut cake with pineapple filing (Charles’ favorite) with a side order of chocolate sauce (my favorite), and no candle. Instead earlier that morning during breakfast in bed I put a candle in his beignet and sang totally off key. (Because it’s not a birthday without a candle to wish on and blow out.) It probably would have been less painful for him to have the wait staff, sing in front of everyone.
After the “birthday cake” and coffee were served I handed Charles a small gift wrapped in gold wrapping paper.
“Happy birthday, honey,” I said to him.
“Simone, this isn’t necessary,” he said looking into my eyes; putting the gift down on the table and taking my hand. “You’ve already given me the best birthday ever.”
“I wanted to and I’ve enjoyed this trip as well.”
“You don’t understand,” Charles said shaking his head. “No one has ever taken the time and effort to do all this for me.”
I squeezed his hand.
“I found myself here, Simone. Something was missing and I didn’t even know it. But I found myself here in New Orleans. Something I needed for a long time. And you did that. You did that for me. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Charles there’s no reason to thank me,” I said as the gift box lay in the middle of the table. “Something happened to me too on this trip.”
“Oh?” Charles questioned.
“I found my love for you.”
He squeezed my hand.
“Long before we came here I knew I loved you,” I continued. “But it wasn’t until I saw you up on that stage Friday night that I realized just how deep and complete my love is for you.”
Charles stayed silent, waiting for me to continue.
“Before I met you, I knew it was time for me to find someone to love. All those years I spent by myself I was happy raising my sons and building my career. But when my sons went on
their own and my career was where I wanted it to be I knew…I knew in my heart of hearts it was time. I met other guys but I knew immediately they were not the one for me. When I met you…well, I admit, I fought it at first.”
“Oh boy did you,” Charles laughed rolling his eyes. He now held both my hands.
I smiled for a moment and then continued, “But you made me see that I could still be me with you. ‘Us’ becoming ‘we’ doesn’t make me less ‘me’. Damn! I’m not saying this right.”
“You’re fine,” Charles said coaxingly. “Just keep going.”
“When I’m with you I’m still me…only better.”
Tears began to well up in my eyes. “When you were up on that stage Friday night, I felt like you were playing for me.”
“I was!” Charles exclaimed. “I never played like that before in my life. It was like every emotion I felt for you was coming out in my music. I never felt like that before. Ever. This is going to sound crazy,” he said with his head down for a moment.
“No, go ahead,” I coaxed him.
“Even though we were yards away I felt like we were making love. I could touch you, taste you, and smell your perfume. I felt like the world only existed for me and you.”
The tears flowed freely down my cheeks. “No Charles, that isn’t crazy at all. It’s exactly how I felt. I could feel your fingers touching me, caressing me. I had such a feeling of comfort and security. It was overwhelming. But not in a scary way,” I assured him. “I didn’t feel the need to run away. All I wanted to do was run to you…to lean on you.”
Tears welled up in Charles’ eyes. “I will always be here for you to lean on.”
“Charles, we will always be here to lean on each other.”
I pushed the gift box toward Charles. He reached for the box and slowly unwrapped it to find a blue velvet box. When he opened the box nestled inside was a pair of sapphire and diamond cufflinks. The same exact design as the earrings he gave me in the Bahamas.
He looked up at me with his eyes full of emotion. He closed the box and slowly put it inside the breast pocket of his tux. Close to this heart. Slowly he stood up and reached for me. As I stood he brought my hand to his lips. With his hand at the small of my back, he guided me to the dance floor. He took me in his arms and held me close as the band played “Someone to Watch Over Me. “
Chapter 12
“Simone, this salmon is delicious. What kind of sauce is this?” Moira asked.
The girls and I were having girls’ night at my house. It was almost the end of June. It was nice and warm out but not humid so I decided to have dinner on the patio in the backyard. I made salmon and corn on the cob on the grill of my outdoor kitchen along with a toss salad on the side. We sat at a white and gray patio table built for six with white chairs and gray cushions to match. I sat at one end and Moira sat on the other, while the rest of the girls sat on either side of the table. The big white umbrella was doing its job by keeping the sun out of our faces.
The backyard was about ½ an acre covered with grass and trees and shrubberies around its border. I also had a small goldfish pond with a two level waterfall. I often sat out in the backyard and listened to the waterfall. It brought me peace and quiet, especially after a hectic day at work.
“It’s a mustard sauce. I got the recipe from a manager at one of the branches I audited.”
“Wait a minute,” said Janice. “Does that constitute as a bribe?” she laughed.
“It’ll take a heck of a lot more than that,” I laughed back.
“So are you ready for the big bash on July 4th?” asked Patricia.
Thomas, Aiden, and I were joining Charles and the rest of the Dupree family for their Annual July fourth BBQ at their Martha’s Vineyard summer home. There was going to be about 300 people attending this soiree. We were all going to be there from Friday through the big BBQ on Monday July 4th. And then we would be leaving early Tuesday morning.
Martha’s Vineyard is a well-known island near Cape Cod in Massachusetts known for its beautiful homes on or near the shore, small shops and preppy dress code. Summer is their peak season filled with tourists and summer home renters/owners looking for fun and relaxation. It is an affluent area whose sidewalks are at times filled with celebrities, politicians, ex and current presidents, as well as every day wealthy people. It’s a beautiful area that is only accessible by ferry boat. Although I have been to Cape Cod many times I had never been to Martha’s Vineyard and was looking forward to it…well, kind of.
“Yea, I guess I’m ready,” I said pouring a pitcher of the white sangria I made into Patricia’s glass. “Actually I’m a bit nervous. This is the first time I’ll be meeting Charles’ kids in person.”
“You said Daniel is nice, right?” Melissa asked. Daniel was Charles’ son who was a Civil Rights Attorney in Los Angeles. He was 29 years old.
“Yes, he’s very personable. Diane on the other hand…” I trailed off.
Charles’ daughter, Diane, his oldest child, was a Pediatrician in San Diego. She was 31 years old. I had spoken to Charles’ kids several times on the phone. Charles always made me speak to them whenever one of them called when he and I were together. Daniel was very friendly, but Diane barely spoke at all.
“Well, you know how girls are with their dads,” said Janice. “They don’t want anyone taking their place.”
“I don’t think that’s the issue,” I said. “She’s been in San Diego for a few years now. They’re close and talk often but they don’t see each other all that much. How could she think I was replacing her?”
Janice shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I don’t know why you’re nervous anyway. Charles is already crazy about you,” Janice said, while taking a sip of the sangria.
“Yea, but they’re his kids,” exclaimed Patricia.
“They’re grown kids,” Janice continued.
“His kids are important to him. Just like mine are to me,” I said looking at Janice as if she’d lost her mind.
“So are mine, but I don’t worry about what my kids think about my boyfriends,” Janice said looking at me.
“Well maybe if you introduced your kids to any of them it would be an issue,” said Patricia sarcastically.
Janice waved her hand in dismissal. “I don’t see the big deal. Charles has his life…And his kids have theirs. Why mix the two.”
“Janice,” I said exasperated, “In case you haven’t realized things are serious between me and Charles. This is not a ‘hit it and quit it’ kind of thing.”
“I don’t see why not. It works for me,” Janice said taking another sip of her drink.
“Does it?” Moira said.
Janice glared at Moira, “Whatever!”
“If that works for you, Janice, that’s fine, but it doesn’t work for me. I like the direction mine and Charles’ relationship is going. We love each other. My sons are crazy about Charles. At the very least I hope Charles’ kids like me.”
“Fine, whatever,” Janice said again digging into her salad.
“Simone,” Melissa said. “How are you doing with things since you’ve been back from New Orleans? You’ve told us several times since then that you love him. You seem very comfortable saying it now. No more freaking out?”
“No,” I said confidently. “Not at all. It’s funny,” I laughed. “I really don’t know what I was so scared of.”
The girls all looked at me in silence.
“Ok. Yes, I do remember but it seems a long time ago. I truly cannot imagine my life without him. Not only do I feel worthy to be with him. He’s lucky to have me too.” I laughed.
“You’re damn right about that!” Janice lifted her glass in a toast.
“He is truly the one I’ve been waiting for….I have no doubt,” I said with a smile and a warm feeling in my heart.
“That’s good,” Janice said. “For your sake I just hope his daughter is OK with that.”
That warm feeling seemed to turn to heartburn.
Pa
tricia glared at Janice, “Don’t let it bother you.” Patricia turned to me, “Things always seem to work out for the good.”
I love Patricia’s new positive attitude. I just hope she was right.
“Yea. So what’s for dessert?” Janice asked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We turned into the long winding gravel driveway of the Dupree’s summer home in the Edgartown area of Martha’s Vineyard. There were trees on either side of the driveway. It reminded me of my grandparents’ country house in upstate New York up near Ithaca, a very old farmhouse that sat on over 20 wooded acres. My mother, aunts, and uncles all spent part of their summers there. My sister Rita and I, spent many a summers climbing trees, swimming in the pond, and walking through the woods telling each other about our dreams and future plans as only sisters can.
As the woods cleared and opened up to show the over 6,000 square foot Colonial Cape Cod styled Dupree summer home sitting on over 3 acres of beachfront property, the driveway is where the similarities ended. The freshly painted gray New England home with five bedrooms and four and a half bathrooms had white trim and white shutters. It had expansive windows and doors that I could imagine took full advantage of the spectacular ocean views. The landscape with its sprawling lawns, flowerbeds that would put any garden club to shame, and the ocean view were breathtaking.
Thomas and Aiden were in the back of the car as Charles drove. As we got closer to the house I could hear Aiden exclaim, “Wow! What a view!”
In answer Thomas said, “Seriously!”
I glanced over at Charles and smiled. He had insisted that the boys drive up with us. I think he thought it’d be reminiscent of when we each took our own kids on road trips when they were growing up. Charles’ children, Daniel and Diane, had flown in from California earlier that day.
Charles was so excited to see them. Me? Not so much. Daniel was always so friendly to me I couldn’t wait to see him. Diane on the other hand never said one word to me that was more than one syllable. I was hoping now that we were about to meet in person things would get friendlier between the two of us. We’ll see.
Till We Meet Again Page 15
