by Anna Adams
“You know the French?” Maude scoffed. “You know nothing. You decided you didn’t want to get to know me. I saw it in your eyes when I first arrived. I thought I was mistaken, but I wasn’t.”
Elder Williams saw his son in Maude’s fiery eyes, and his soul squirmed, but his face didn’t. She was just like her father, that day. That day Aaron had told him about his impending departure. The day his ungrateful son had turned against his father, had disobeyed his father’s orders.
“You little—”
“Grandpa, stop,” Rocky said with a calmness that proved effective nonetheless.
Elder Williams stopped, but Maude didn’t. She pushed her chair away from the table and hurried out of the room as fast as her rattled emotions allowed her.
Rocky caught up with Maude outside the house.
“Maude, wait up!” Rocky held her back. “Sit with me a little while, would you?” He asked, pointing to the stoop.
“I don’t want to spend another minute here. You can all enjoy my birthday dinner without me.”
Rocky smiled as he took a seat, and patted the vacant space next to him. Maude sighed, but took a seat.
“I want to divorce this family,” Maude stated. “That’s not possible in France, but in the States there’s always room for innovation.”
“Unfortunately, you’re stuck with us, Maude. But if you read Grandpa’s eyes, then you read mine. Therefore, you must know how happy I am to welcome you into this family.”
Maude’s expression softened, but her grandfather’s words continued to grate her ears.
“Maybe you’re happy, but nobody else seems to be in that frame of mind. You heard Elder Williams.”
“He doesn’t like anybody.”
“Jordan, Trey and I got off on the wrong foot.”
“They don’t seem to hold it against you.”
“And Harriet! She’s . . . ”
“Harriet is Harriet. Nobody minds her.”
“Uncle Stephen and Aunt Loretta look down on me because I’m not French enough.”
“They look down on everyone. Were you or were you not there when they basically told my mother she was a failure?”
“Your mother’s fun,” Maude said, brightening up. “I can see why Stephen snubs her: he sucks the fun out of everything.”
“Uncle Stephen calls my mother a ‘wild child’ because she’s the last of four children, and she pursued an acting career he was against. At the time, Grandpa was weakened because of Uncle Aaron’s death and Grandma’s death as well. My mother had her way, unlike Uncle Stephen.”
“Her career didn’t take off, did it?” Maude had gathered that much.
“You could put it that way,” Rocky answered with frank humor. “Let’s just say, having me put a cramp in a career that wasn’t making much headway to begin with. She says I’m her proudest achievement.”
“You are on the path to becoming a renowned archeologist. That’s something to be proud of.”
“I owe everything to her,” Rocky acknowledged with serenity. “Which is why I haven’t told her yet I’ll be leaving for the French Caribbean islands to research French colonial findings from the eighteenth century next summer for six months. It’ll be my first overseas experience.”
Maude’s head swiveled sharply at him. His tone hadn’t changed, and he might as well have been talking about the weather.
“Why can’t you tell her you’re leaving?”
“What do you know of Italian mothers?”
“They make great pizzas?”
Rocky laughed. “Not exactly. They’re quite possessive where their sons are concerned.”
“Your mother isn’t Italian. How did she react to you dating girls for example?”
“She’s never had to. I’ve never been in a serious relationship before. Have you?”
“I’ve . . . ” Maude hesitated. She could hardly call a kiss and three days of bliss a serious relationship. “No, I haven’t. But, I’m sure your mother would be happy for you. She doesn’t strike me as being possessive.”
“She’s never been alone. It’s always been just the two of us. I can’t help but feel guilty at the thought of leaving her behind. She’s always put me first and has never had time to date, let alone have a serious boyfriend.”
Maude bit her lip, deep in thought. Finally she said:
“I didn’t know family ties could tangle into such a complicated mess.”
“Not all families,” Rocky corrected. “Our family is several shades of crazy.”
“Amen to that,” Maude agreed.
Maude and Rocky jumped up when the door opened behind them. The entire Baldwin clan filed out and faced Maude.
“Maude, I’m sorry about my dysfunctional family,” Victoria apologized. James lifted an eyebrow, and she shuffled to find the right words.
“I’m also sorry I didn’t keep calm and ruined everything. As for Elder Williams, I’m sure he’ll come around.”
“We should’ve warned you he didn’t like the French, but I kind of hoped he’d react well to finding about his new granddaughter. I didn’t want you to come here with apprehension,” James said with dejection.
“I’m sure we could get along if he’d give me a chance. But he’d made up his mind, I saw it plain as day. And I refuse to beg him to love me. I’m never making that mistake again.” One thing Maude had learned from living sixteen years under a tyrant’s thumb was to never crawl for affection. Crawling only ripped her skin and exposed her weakness to the unsympathetic eye.
James’ pained expression mirrored Victoria’s. They would never understand the extent of the damage Mrs. Ruchet had wrought in the girl that stood before them, leaning on a sense of proud vulnerability.
“You should’ve known better, Dad,” Ben said in a serious tone. “As for you, Mom, I’m disappointed in you, young lady. You’re to stay in your room for a week to reflect on your conduct.”
Victoria laughed and sighed immediately afterwards.
“To think Ben was the best behaved at the dinner table. That’s how awful this dinner was.”
“I don’t agree,” Cynthia put in. “He’s the one who asked Harriet if she’d found a man willing to ‘put a ring on it,’ remember?”
“An innocent question!” Ben protested, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I thought she had that bride-to-be glow.”
“There is no such thing as a bride-to-be glow,” Jazmine replied. “Besides, if there was, I don’t think Harriet Williams would find it appropriate for a young woman of her ‘station.’”
*****
“Twenty more pumps, Maude. That’s right you’re getting there,” Adrianna called out.
If by “there” Adrianna meant hell, Maude was most definitely arriving to the dreaded destination.
Humpf, humpf, hummmmpf were the only sounds heard in the room still echoing with the ghosts of Maude and Matt’s creative arguments.
It was bad enough that Matt’s creation room had been turned upside down, for the last five days, Maude had been on a strict diet that included nothing other than Pilates, pumps, and more Pilates. Piano and singing had disappeared from her food groups, which was somewhat unfortunate for the girl who’d survived Carvin by feeding off her weekly piano sessions in a tiny, soundproof, library room.
If only James Baldwin were down the hall instead of Alan Lewis. If only Matt were still in Soulville instead of planning his departure for Los Angeles.
“Matt, what are you doing here, darling?” Adrianna exclaimed in surprise.
Maude involuntarily slumped from her pumps and fell flat on her stomach with an awkward humpf.
Maybe her wishes could materialize if only she thought hard enough.
“Smoothie, smoothie, smoothie,” she mumbled.
Nothing.
Except a puzzled expression from Matt and a blank one from Adrianna. She always blanked when foods other than carrots were mentioned, as if ignoring them meant they didn’t exist.
Adrianna hurried to
greet Matt and gave him two noisy kisses on each cheek.
“Mwa, mwa,” Adrianna stood back, proud as everything to display such impeccable French manners.
“You do know French people don’t actually press their lips on random people’s cheeks when they greet. They ‘empty kiss,’ Adrianna,” Maude pointed out. Especially if they’re as close as those two seemed, she thought with a hint of irritation. She shouldn’t be surprised Matt knew a model of the likes of Adrianna. In fact, it merely confirmed she and Matt were on two different planets.
“Sorry to interrupt your session,” he apologized uncomfortably. Seeing his creation room turned into a gym wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting. Nor did he expect to find Adrianna Florandini between these four walls.
“I need to speak to Maude privately, if that’s okay.”
“All right, but Maude will have to start those last twenty pumps all over again,” Adrianna declared as she exited. “We’ll see if your French manners can handle that.”
“I just had two left!” Maude protested to the empty doorway. “Aarrgh! I hate her! What is it with New Yorkers and Pilates anyway? I’m French, ergo I jog. That’s it! I don’t impose horrible, torturous exercises to people I barely even know just because my uncle is Stalin’s little brother!”
“Nah, Alan Lewis is too interested in making money to be a communist.”
Maude glared at Matt for daring to contradict her during such painful times.
“I guess this is a bad time. I’ll come back later.”
“No! I mean, sorry,” Maude mumbled shamefacedly. “Sorry, for letting my frustration out on you. I’m all ears.”
“I have bad news.”
Maude had been so busy ranting, she hadn’t noticed Matt held a folder. She tensed at and couldn’t bring herself to ask how bad the news was. By the taut expression he bore, it looked like the news had swallowed his face whole.
“I’ve been hearing things about Lexie Staz these days. About a book she’s been writing.”
Maude’s heart seemed to alter its activity at the mention of Lexie’s name, as if it wanted to bounce out from her chest and run.
“I have a friend who works in the publishing industry who managed to get an extract of her first draft for me.”
Matt turned away from Maude’s stricken face, wishing with all his being he could spare her the awful truth.
“It’s about you. She’s writing a biography about you, Maude.”
You may know her as the amazing singer who took New York by storm with her hit single “Betrayed but Not Broken.” But for the inhabitants of the little French town of Carvin, Maude Laurent is nothing if not an ordinary girl, with ordinary troubles, including those of the heart.
Before Maude became entangled in a complicated love triangle involving Lindsey Linton and Matt, she was already wreaking havoc under the gray sky of northern France.
“I was Maude’s first love,” Luc tells me, his eyes wavering from these painful reminiscences. “Back in eighth grade, I was dating this other girl named Rachel, one of Maude’s best friends. At first, I made fun of Maude. She was the girl obsessed with her piano. But then I got to know her. I heard her play Brahms and was never the same again,” Luc admits candidly.
Without so much as a second of hesitation, Maude asked him to break up with Rachel and openly went out with Luc, the handsome bad boy with the bright eyes. She never regretted her decision to “follow her heart” like she told him.
But Luc knew their love couldn’t last.
“She was born to be a star, and I was destined to spend my life in Carvin,” Luc explains, sadly realistic at such a young age. “When she was offered the contract that would later make her famous, she begged me to ask her to stay. But I told her to go, that I would never tie her down. I broke up with her to set her free.”
Luc’s heartbreaking loss was our gain, because his impact on Maude’s life inspired her to write “Betrayed but Not Broken.”
The young star may have moved on, but she hasn’t changed much. When I asked Luc what he thought about Maude stealing Matt from poor Lindsey Linton, Luc told me that Maude would never hesitate to follow her heart, even if it meant crushing someone else’s.
Luc, your warning has been heard.
Maude tossed the document aside after reading it aloud and stared into Matt’s questioning expression.
“So you and Luc, huh?” Matt let out finally. He never really pictured Maude’s life in Carvin, her relationship to her classmates. He knew her life had been hard under the Ruchets’ roof, but outside that narrow scope, he knew precious little.
“Are you serious? Are you telling me you believe this garbage?” Maude cried out in disbelief.
“Of course not!” Matt protested. “Not all of it. But you must have known this Luc guy, no?”
“I did,” Maude admitted, not without a certain reluctance. “And I actually had a mild crush on him. That lasted about a day, until he relentlessly tormented me for the rest of my Carvin school days. My clothes were too old, or my shoes bore too many holes. There was always something about me to set him off. And Rachel was never my friend. I had none,” Maude mumbled.
A surge of anger rushed through Matt towards the faceless specters of Maude’s past. To think they made fun of one so talented, kind, and, at the same time, defenseless and alone.
“Lexie will stop at nothing to get information about you, even invent lies.”
“I don’t care about Luc, or Rachel, Matt. They’re nothing to me,” Maude said through gritted teeth. Of course it bothered her, but she could live with Luc’s desire to bask in his fifteen fleeting minutes of fame. No, only one thought made a shudder of dread slither down her spine.
“How long before Lexie Staz gets to Mrs. Ruchet?”
*****
Verdi’s Othello defied the ages, and Maude was engrossed in the DVD she’d bought with Nathan Leopold and Rebecca Sylvester as the leads at Covent Garden. Despite their youth, their talent was recognized not only by Maude, who devoured them with her eyes, but also by the opera community as a whole.
Her fingers scratched her empty plate and clutched only thin air. Another trip to the kitchen was necessary. She jumped off the sofa in the living room and made her way to the kitchen.
Hushed whispers. Exasperated tones. Maude didn’t know if she should enter the kitchen. So, naturally, she pressed her ear to the wall.
“You said you’d tell her,” Maude heard Jazmine whisper with anger.
“I’m sorry, Jaz. Now isn’t a good time.” Maude heard a male voice answer.
Jonathan’s voice.
“I’ll tell her soon, I promise.”
“That’s what you always say, Jon. I hate being that girl. I’m not that girl. I refuse to be.”
“You know if I could . . . ”
“But you can,” Jazmine insisted. “Tell her it’s over. Unless . . . ”
“No, don’t say that, Jaz. You know I love you.”
“You’re still in love with her!” Jazmine cried. “It’s just like me to fall for the only two-timing nerd in the entire universe.”
“I’m not a two-timing anything.”
“But you are a nerd,” Jazmine giggled, her previous anger forgotten.
Then Maude could no longer hear voices, just noises that sounded a lot like passionate kissing.
She backed away from the kitchen, but in such haste that she lost the empty plate she held in her hand and cried out as it went crashing to the floor. It was in these moments she wished she possessed soundproof clumsiness.
Jazmine and her guest hurried out and bumped into a very embarrassed Maude.
“Sorry,” she greeted sheepishly. “I’m leaving. You can resume, er I mean, pretend I never . . . I don’t exist.”
Jonathan, whose glasses drooped on his nose looked as uncomfortable as Maude felt. Surprise was her first reaction every time she saw the pair together. Tall and distinguished, Jazmine looked like a model for Vogue where Jonathan’s unc
oordinated limbs always made him appear out of place within his own self.
“I was about to leave anyway,” Jonathan cleared his throat, fumbled a farewell, and headed for the entrance door with awkward relief.
“Sorry for interrupting.” She didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t sound disapproving.
Jazmine took a deep breath.
“I know what you want to say.”
“Nothing. I’ve nothing to say.”
“I know. He’s still with Laura and I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t think he’s going to leave her for me even though he says he will.”
“Isn’t that what they never do?” Maude asked, dropping the whole ‘I didn’t see anything’ act.
“Jonathan is different,” Jazmine argued. “The closest he ever got to a girl before me was in front of a TV screen!”
“And now he’s got two girls fighting for him. Talk about an ego boost!”
“We’re not fighting, like rolling in the mud or anything. Just drop it. And don’t tell Cynthia, or she’ll lose it.”
“Fine, I won’t. Just watch out. I don’t want to see you get hurt, okay?”
While Maude frowned, Jazmine pshished and pshawed, and Maude thought her cousin had been replaced by an alien who could fall in love. Because that certainly could not be her cousin who’d once said love was the farthest notion from her mind.
Chapter 3
Cynthia Baldwin was smart.
She didn’t just possess a bright mind. She looked smart and felt rightly so as she stood facing Soulville Tower in stilettos and a fitting, cream business suit. She pushed back her fake Ray-Ban glasses from her nose, thinking she might decide to keep these accessories permanently.
This smelled crazy, she knew. But life without a whiff of crazy was just an imitation of life. Her father needed her. Her cousin’s mind was disheveled. Maude hadn’t complained, but Cynthia was perceptive, more so than her sister, and she knew her cousin was handling Alan’s coup d’état like a wounded soldier, preferring to suffer in solitary silence. That’s why she would use her gap year to find out how Alan had managed to overthrow James and how she could legally get rid of the usurper. And incidentally if her desire to become a lawyer was solid or just a passing whim like her mother thought.
