Midnight in Brussels

by Rebecca Randolph Buckley

  Frenchie squeezed Lance’s hand and chimed in with gratitude. She said she was thrilled to be there with them all and was having the time of her life and that this was the first holiday season she’d been away from KC’s and she was loving it. Said they were going to Paris for a couple of days to see relatives, but they would be back for New Year’s Eve.

  After breakfast they all moved into the garden room to have mimosas.

  When they finally settled into the plush floral sofas and chairs and were served their champagne and orange juice, Amanda said, “By the way … Richard and I have a little something for each of you for Christmas. Can we do it now, hon?” She was excited and elated.

  “Richard grinned. “All right. I’ll get them.” He left the room.

  “We said no Christmas gifts!” Paula exclaimed.

  “I know, but because I knew you all would give us such beautiful wedding gifts, I just had to do this. It’s just something little, something to help you remember the happiest day of my life and happy that you were here to share it with me.”

  “And the happiest day of my life,” Richard added as he returned carrying a red gift bag. “Would you like to do the honors, darling?”

  Amanda shook her head. “No, you can do it.”

  He read the tags on the little boxes and cheerfully handed a gift to each person.

  “Where’s A.G.?” Frenchie asked. She’d just realized he was missing.

  “Oh, he’s off playing in that fancy playroom with Martha’s grandchildren, Amanda explained. “He’s happy. That was so nice to have all those presents for the kids to open when they got up this morning, Richard.”

  Richard nodded. “We didn’t want A.G. to miss out on Christmas, so we invited the other children to make it even more fun for him. Martha did all the planning for the kids’ breakfast and their little Christmas party,” he said as he kissed the top of Amanda’s head. “Of course, Amanda bought all the presents and wrapped them. I brought out all the gifts from Brussels yesterday while she was busy getting ready, so she wouldn’t know about it. She thought we were going to be at the hotel today for the Christmas party.”

  Amanda grinned at him. “Yes, you really got me on this one. So go ahead, everybody, it’s your turn now. Open your presents.”

  They untied the ribbons on their boxes. The women found gold bracelets with Christmas in Brussels and the date inscribed on the inside surface, while Drake and Lance had been given gold cufflinks and matching tie clips, with the same inscription on the back of the clip.

  It was a happy Christmas morning at the Miller’s Camellia Gardens estate.

  Chapter 60

  It seemed like fireworks and firecrackers were being set off at every intersection in Brussels. Police on foot, in cars with their sirens blaring, along with celebrating young pedestrians, were adding to the noise and excitement of New Year’s Eve.

  Richard was driving through the streets to find a parking place that would put them as close to the Grand Place as they could get.

  “There’s one,” Paula pointed from the back seat.

  Drake grabbed her finger. “He knows what he’s doing, Paula, so don’t be trying to drive from the backseat.”

  Rachel laughed. All week the two of them had kept her in stitches. They were born entertainers, she had told them.

  Baby A.G. was at home with the house staff, and was most likely asleep already in his makeshift nursery. Amanda and Paula had created a space in an alcove in Paula and Drake’s bedroom suite, fit for a baby prince. Amanda had decided that that part of the house would be their own personal quarters every time they came to visit, and was hoping it would be at least twice a year.

  “Here we go.” Richard pulled in right after another car pulled out.

  “This is perfect,” said Amanda. “Only two blocks from the square. We are dang lucky. I hope Frenchie and Lance found the place okay.”

  They grabbed their coats from the trunk of the car, donned their hats and gloves, and meandered up the lane, looking in shop windows as they sauntered along. Most of the shops were still open for business, especially the chocolate boutiques and food stores. Two lace shops and a tapestry studio were filled with patrons, and the tourist souvenir shops’ doors were wide open. All the cafes and taverns were crowded with late-night patrons.

  Near the giant tree left over from Christmas in the square, artists had set up partitions and were selling their oils and watercolors. A small band was playing music and a few people were dancing. Other than that, people were just milling about, going in and out of the cafes surrounding the Grand Place.

  Frenchie and Lance were already sitting in a large circular booth at The Roy, where they were to meet. Rachel scooted in next to them, Amanda and Paula sat at opposite ends, their two husbands sitting beside their ladies.

  The waiter brought two bottles of the finest champagne and poured for the seven celebrants.

  “A toast!” Richard lifted his glass. “First, may all your wishes come true, my lovely Amanda, and know that I love you with all my heart. Second, to your loving family and bewitching friends, may you all feel and find the same love in your lives as Amanda and I share.”

  “That’s the most beautiful toast I’ve ever heard, Richard,” Paula said. “Isn’t it, Drake? We’ll drink to that, won’t we?”

  Drake lifted his glass. “You bet your bottom dollar, we will. And I want to add something to it. Here’s to my wife, Paula, who brought our little A.G. into the world, and to the love that I have for both of them. May you all be as happy as I am right at this moment.”

  “Oh Drake, honey, that was a good one.” Paula leaned and gave Drake a hug and a kiss. “You did good, baby. You did good.”

  “To all of us: may this be the best New Year’s Eve celebration ever!” Rachel added as she lifted her glass.

  “A votre sante!” Frenchie added as she joined by lifting her glass.

  They all gaily clinked the glasses over the table and then continued to work on the second bottle as the midnight hour drew near.

  “You know, the fireworks are at the Mont des Arts instead of the Grand Place,” Amanda commented. “I hope y’all don’t mind that we decided to come here instead. I just love this place, and it’s more romantic to us here at The Roy; not so many people to deal with.”

  Rachel took a deep breath. “Well, honey, like I’ve told you already, I’ve been on a quest these past few years because I promised my father on his deathbed … don’t mean to be morbid here … but I promised him that I would live out his dream of going to major New Year’s Eve celebrations around the world. But it’s not only his dream; it’s become my dream now. So if you don’t mind, I may go over to the fireworks at midnight. I’ve done the Eiffel in Paris, Trafalgar Square in London─”

  “Then by all means you should go to the Mont des Arts, Rachel. We can meet back here or at the Metropole.” Richard patted her hand that was resting on the table. “But not in the café, the lounge has a combo tonight.”

  Amanda placed her hand on Rachel’s arm. “And you’re not being morbid, that’s a nice thing to do for your daddy. Nothing wrong with that. If my mama would have asked me to promise something while she was on her deathbed, I certainly would have done it. Of course she didn’t know nothin’ about cities around the world. She never even went to Little Rock. When did your daddy die, Rachel?”

  “It’s been a few years now,” Rachel replied looking down at her glass to hide the emotion that was suddenly surfacing.

  “An exciting quest indeed, Rachel,” Richard said in hopes of lifting her spirits. “We could all walk with you to the Mont Des Arts, if you want. It’s just a little east of here. Not far.”

  “No, no, no. You don’t need to do that.” She blinked back the tears and gulped champagne. “Please, do as you planned. The crowd will be ridiculous. If this one is like the usual ones I’ve seen, it’d be crazy for all of us to try and squeeze through. Really. I’ll go for the midnight countdown and come right back. Just want t
o do it for my daddy … and for me … ” Her voice trailed off as she quickly lifted her glass again and drained it.

  Richard spoke up. “Well, then, that’s settled. We’ll either wait for you here inside or out in the square, or at the Metropole.”

  Rachel nodded. “At the Metropole, will be fine. Excuse me, I should get going,” she said as she put her purse over her shoulder.

  Amanda leaned over and whispered to Rachel, “Are you all right?”

  Rachel hugged her and whispered back, “I’m just feeling lonely. I’ll be okay, sweetie.”

  The slight uphill walk to Mont Des Arts was intriguing with its rows of cafes and upscale shops along the way. Rachel hadn’t visited that part of Brussels before. It was absolutely wonderful, escalating in affluence and prestige, she noticed. She would definitely tell Amanda about it. It might be a good idea to open a Mandy Malone Designs in that part of town, too.

  She already knew about the square, though, had read up on it when she’d decided to go there for the midnight festivities. Originally it had been created for the 1910 World’s Fair. A park and monuments were added, as well as an expansive staircase leading from the Royal Square above to the Mont Des Arts below. Cascading fountains flanked the stone stairway, making it even more impressive. Royal museums of all sorts surrounded it, mingled with more cafes and shops. A show of utter magnificence. The Palais Royal was on the Place Royale, where the king presided as Head of State.

  Rachel didn’t plan on viewing any of the historical buildings, however. She just wanted to be near and feel the presence and emotion of the masses as they stood at the Mont Des Arts greeting the coming of the new year in Brussels.

  As the countdown began and the fireworks spewed high into the sky, her thoughts were of Pete. Tears flowed as she whispered, “I will miss you forever.” Then loving thoughts of others who had gone on to the next life flashed through her mind – Ethan, her mother, her father.

  She closed her eyes and smiled at the image of Paul’s face and the memorable kiss on that first New Year’s Eve in London’s Trafalgar Square. She shook her head to shift to thoughts of Belinda’s love for Paul.

  A man had bumped her off balance, but caught her before she fell. “Excuse me!”

  “That’s okay, really. I’m all right.” Rachel stepped back and sat on one of the stone planter boxes, trying to stabilize.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked.

  She didn’t look up at him. “Yes, yes. I’m fine. Thank you,” she murmured, obviously dismissing him.

  He moved away a short distance, but his glance was directed to the sad, beautiful woman shedding tears on the planter box.

  Rachel was wondering what Amanda was feeling right at that moment, and she envied the beautiful life that lay ahead of the bride and groom, envied the love they shared. Then the inevitable image of her father appeared in her mind.

  As fast as she could wipe them away, tears continued to spill down her cheeks. She wondered if her daddy was looking down on her, could see that she was in Brussels on another New Year’s Eve. He would love to be there sitting beside her. She knew he would.

  The voices screaming ‘… THREE … TWO … ONE!’ shook her from her reverie as they echoed loudly over the thousands of people congregated in the square. It was midnight.

  The man who had bumped her stepped closer to her.

  “Madam?”

  She stared at the gloved hand held out to her. Then she looked up into the face of a silver-haired gentleman whose dazzling eyes and smile were as grand as the rest of him.

  “Yes?” she replied weakly, still sitting, dumbfounded.

  “Would you be so kind as to allow me to rescue a damsel in distress, in exchange for a New Year’s kiss? One should not waste precious moments that are so few. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Rachel’s heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t believe the boldness of the man, but then she remembered a New Year’s Eve not so long ago when another man had been just as bold. And so had she.

  She smiled, wiped the tears from her eyes with one hand, took his hand with the other, and rose from the planter.

  He slipped his arm around her waist gently, pulled her closer, and bent down to touch her moist lips with his.

  Rachel was surprised at how good the kiss felt to her. She was surprised that she’d allowed him to do it. She was surprised that the sadness that had overwhelmed her just a few moments before had totally disappeared.

  He released her, grinned, stepped back and bowed slightly. “Let me introduce myself, I’m Maxim Balanchine. And you are … ?”

  “Rachel O’Neill.”

  “Ah, an Irish lass, yes?”

  Rachel nodded. “Yes, and you’re Belgian? Is that the accent I hear?”

  “I’m Russian, actually, but I have had a home here for twenty-five years. So I would say it’s a combined accent. Are you living here?”

  “Just visiting. I came for a wedding.”

  “So where is your home?” he asked her.

  “In England, but I’m originally from the U.S.”

  “That is good. England is very close.” His grin grew. “May I buy you a drink somewhere, so that we may continue to talk?”

  “I’m meeting my friends at the Metropole,” she explained. “You may come along, if you wish. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

  “I would like that. Thank you.”

  Chapter 61

  The streets were overflowing with pedestrians: cheerful elderly couples arm-in-arm, energetic students on a mission carrying and setting off stashes of fireworks wherever they could, young lovers billing and cooing, police cars wailing and foot policemen trying to catch the independent pyrotechies. The sidewalk cafes were filled with patrons observing and enjoying the late night jovial events.

  Maxim and Rachel made their way along the winding lanes to the Metropole Hotel.

  “Do you ever go back to Russia?” she asked him.

  “I go home every year for three months at a time, sometimes twice a year. Depends on how much I am needed there.”

  Rachel smiled. “I may be going to Moscow next winter for the holiday season, am a writer and my next novel is set in Russia. It’s amazing that we’ve met like this. Quite a coincidence, isn’t it?”

  “That depends,” Maxim said. “do you think it is coincidence or fate?”

  “That’s a good question, and regardless, I should glean your mind about Russia while I have the chance,” she said as she looked at him with curiosity and an even more brilliant smile than before.

  He smiled back. “That I would welcome. My mind sometimes needs a good gleaning.”

  They both laughed and continued to walk in silence, dodging oncoming foot traffic while catching their breaths from the excitement they both were feeling.

  As they rounded the next corner, the street ahead was blocked off by police cars, lights and sirens screaming.

  “Let’s go this way,” Maxim said as he put his arm around Rachel’s shoulders, guiding her in a different direction.

  She thrilled at his touch that gave her a terrific sense of safety. Suddenly she felt protected and relieved, something very new to her. For a moment it was as if all her fears and heartbreak had disappeared … poof! … into thin air. And at that moment she felt completely happy and content, not a care in the world. Her thoughts were only of the man next to her who had tucked her safely into the warmth of his body.

  As they traversed the detour, Rachel told Maxim about her father’s last wishes about her celebrating New Year’s Eve in cities around the world. She told him about her closest friends, her cottage in Cornwall and the house in Paris.

  Maxim told her he was a widower and told about his partnership with his nephew in Moscow. They were in the jewelry business, amber and diamonds, mostly.

  They turned at the next corner and the canopies of the Metropole loomed just a few steps ahead of them.

  “We’re meeting in the lounge,” Rachel said as they passed in front o
f the Metropole sidewalk café and turned toward the front doors of the hotel. “It’s to the right, down the corridor from the café.”

  “Yes, I know. I have been here many times.” Maxim held the door for her.

  A combo was playing American standards and jazz. Normally a solo jazz pianist was there. It puzzled Rachel that no matter where she went in Britain and Europe, the music in the cafes was American – either Frank Sinatra ballads or hits by other popular American singers. Tonight was no exception.

  “There they are, up in the corner to the right of the piano.” She walked ahead of Maxim, grinning widely and raising her eyebrows at her friends, signaling, as if she had a secret to tell them and couldn’t wait to do so.

  “It’s about time! We were beginning to worry about you,” Richard said as he took a few steps toward her and gave her a hug.

  Amanda stood and joined them. “Did you get lost, Rachel?”

  “No, not at all. I want to introduce you to someone. This is Maxim Balanchine. We met at the square.” Rachel’s eyes had a glow that none of them had seen before. “And Maxim, this is Amanda, she’s the designer Mandy Malone … and Richard Miller, a cattle rancher. They are the newlyweds.”

  Maxim shook hands with both of them. “Congratulations, Amanda, Richard.”

  “Paula is Amanda’s sister visiting from the states, and her husband, Drake …”

  Maxim moved toward them, holding out his hand, “Hello, so nice to meet you. Happy New Year!” They responded in the same manner.

  “And this is Frenchie, our restaurateur friend from the States. Owns a fabulous steakhouse I hear. And her fiancé Lance.”

  “Hello, Frenchie, Lance.”

  “It’s so nice to meet a Belgian gentleman,” Frenchie said.

  “Oh, he’s actually Russian,” Rachel explained. “But has lived here for years. He was out on the town alone, so I thought I’d invite him to join us. Can’t let a perfectly good New Year’s Eve go to waste without being with friends, now can we?” Rachel took his hand and led him to the empty leather loveseat in the cozily seated group.