Jezebel

by K Larsen

  The sky faded fast into dark shades of purple and navy. There were no clouds, leaving the stars free to sparkle as they do. There were so many of them, so much sky occupied by them, she didn’t know how anyone could ever feel alone looking at them. But she did.

  ~***~

  Waking up to sunshine did not seem right after a long night of melancholy dreams. The sky should be gray and the rain heavy and angry. Annabelle stretched and yawned wishing it were the weekend and she could go back to sleep. But it wasn’t and she couldn’t. She dreamed of Brant and it was torturous. The dream, plagued by images of his stiff, unmoving body lying on the sidewalk made her feel useless and frightened. Sometimes, in her dreams, she rewound to the day before. To just after school.

  And in her dream she didn’t have piano lessons that afternoon. She walked home from school with her brother instead of being picked up and shuffled off by her mother. They arrived home from school together. Alive. And the four of them would sit together at the table and eat dinner. They’d talk, joke, clown around and maybe even bicker a little, but they were together, and happy.

  She flung the covers away from her and shuffled to the bathroom feeling sullen. At least it was Tuesday. A smile played on her lips as she thought about her upcoming afternoon with Jezebel.

  “Hey,” Madison greeted falling in step next to her.

  “Hi.”

  “So, I know it’s kinda far off and all, but do you think your parents will give you a reprieve for graduation?” Madison mused.

  “I don’t know. I can ask I guess. I mean obviously I will attend graduation but I doubt I will get to do anything afterward.”

  “Don’t they notice?”

  She arched a brow at her friend. “Notice what?”

  Madison sighed, completely exasperated. “How much you’ve changed.” Annabelle’s nose flared.

  “Is that a joke?” she frowned and adjusted her backpack on her shoulder.

  Lines creased Madison’s forehead. “No Belle, I’m serious. You’re different somehow. Not bad, just different.”

  “Am I?”

  Madison nodded proudly. “Yeah, I mean it’s not like world changing or anything, but I noticed. You seem . . . less uptight.”

  Annabelle groaned and wanted to smack her palm to her forehead but refrained. “I was uptight?”

  “Kinda. Well, high-strung I guess. Some people are! I’m not complaining, I just . . . frack, this isn’t coming out right at all.” Madison pouted.

  Annabelle shook her head, unconcerned. “No, it’s okay. I mean, I feel less angry lately. Maybe that’s it.” She gave a shrug as they continued walking.

  “I think it’s that looney lady you spend time with. I think she’s making you deal with crap you didn’t want to—but in a really good way.” Madison rushed. “She’s one of those ‘tough love’ people as my mom would say. But really, I think maybe it’s what you needed.”

  “Gee thanks?” she said tartly.

  Madison didn’t bow down, instead, she speared Annabelle with a pointed look. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to tell you.”

  “And you did.” Annabelle confirmed and crossed her arms over her chest with a scowl.

  “Right—so moving on . . .” Madison bit her lip in thought as they shifted through the crowded hall.

  “Mad,” Annabelle started. If she was honest with herself she felt what Madison noticed.

  Madison looked to her expectantly. “Yeah?”

  “I might agree with you but . . . why did you ever want to be my friend in the first place if I was so miserable to be around?”

  Madison’s lips tilt into a slow, lazy smile. “You remember the first day of ninth grade?”

  “Of course,” she said, thinking back to that day.

  “When you sat down next to me in class and I said ‘hi,’ and you just shrugged at me all aloof and shit, but your eyes were so tired and sad. We were just kids. I didn’t understand why, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to help. It was stupid, maybe, but then we ended up being friends—and at my house you were lighter, different and I liked that Belle, so I stuck around.” Annabelle had never realized how deep Madison was, or how perceptive. She was a crappy friend for not noticing these things before. She resolved to change that—to be a better friend to Madison.

  “I’m glad you did,” she admitted.

  “Yeah me too. You’re alright,” Madison snickered.

  “Why thank you.” Annabelle gave Madison an over-dramatic curtsy and a sweet, sarcastic smile for good measure.

  “You’re welcome?” Madison laughed her rebuttal before disappearing into her first period class.

  ~***~

  Annabelle hopped off the bus and headed directly across the street into Rite-Aid. She weaved in and out of the aisles until she found what she was looking for. She grabbed the first one that sparked her interest and carried it to the front to pay before she headed into Glenview. She stopped at the front desk, checked in with her supervisor and made her way down the corridor.

  Jezebel’s eyes crinkled with amusement as she took the bag. She pulled out the box of hair dye and stared at it. “What do you do plan to do with this?” A look of dumb innocence crossed her face.

  “Put it in my hair.” Annabelle answered as she rolled her sapphire blue eyes.

  “Your witty banter is charming,” Jezebel said dryly and shot her a sardonic smile.

  “Oh, quit your fretting. I have nothing but the best intentions,” she said with a grin.

  Stifling a snort, Jezebel visibly relaxed a little. “Well, I guess you expect me to do this for you.” Jezebel’s lips flinched as she held back a smile. A sure sign she was up to no good. Annabelle nodded slowly. Jezebel worried her lip while she examined the box of color in her hand. “Ok. One condition.” She held up a solitary finger.

  Annabelle smirked. “Shoot.”

  “You can’t see until I say so.” Annabelle peeled her eyes away from the woman and her wrinkled nose as she thought. “You look like you bit a lemon with that sour expression.” Jezebel commented.

  Annabelle stood up a little straighter, determined not to let Jezebel ruffle her feathers . “Fine. I won’t look until you’re done,” she conceded.

  “Brava, darling. A little mystery will do you good.”

  “You aren’t going to ruin my hair right?” she asked grimacing.

  Jezebel simply shrugged as she opened the top of the box and pulled the paper instructions free. “Be a good girl and grab me those reading glasses over there,” she murmured wiggling two fingers in the direction of her night stand. Annabelle did as she was told.

  Annabelle sat patiently as Jezebel pulled on the latex gloves and mixed the solutions just as the directions said to. She clutched the towel over her shoulders at her throat as Jezebel massaged the dye into her hair. It felt heavenly. Her favorite part of haircuts was always the way they washed your hair before the cut. A small groan escaped her lips and Jezebel chuckled. The massaging stopped. “Says here we have to let it sit for twenty minutes.”

  “Okay, then we let it sit.” Annabelle shrugged.

  “Let’s skip ahead in our story a bit while we wait.” Jezebel suggested.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Jezebel winked. “Paris, nineteen eighty-eight.”

  Chapter 16

  Celeste

  Paris 1988

  Gabriel’s fingers swept into her hair and weaved through the strands. She tensed. So, so close to the edge, nearly pushed over right then and there. He drove in again and she toppled over the peak panting and shuddering with each sensation that passed through her. Their mornings were often spent like this, tangled in each other’s limbs.

  “Celeste,” he drew her name out on an exhale. “Let’s make a baby.” He kissed her. “We’d have a Spring baby. Perfect for taking long walks outdoors,” he murmured. Celeste’s stomach dropped out as her brain went into overdrive. She froze beneath him. How could it have never have come up before? How utterly preposterous wa
s it that they had never discussed children before. How rich was that? she thought angrily. Of course he knew she loved children and vice versa, yet the subject of having their own had never been broached.

  “Mon amour, what is it?” Gabriel asked as he inspected her sour expression.

  She pushed him aside and sat up, pulling the sheet with her. She couldn’t breathe. Sweat started to bead along her hairline and at the nape of her neck. “Celeste,” he snapped and shook her by the shoulders before he cupped her face, and his eyes softened while his thumbs stroked back and forth over her cheeks.

  “Gabriel.” Her wide eyes caught his. “I can’t have children.” The beating of her heart echoed in her ears. It resonated deeply as the scent of her own failings. She saw pain flicker in his eyes and her heart broke for him. For his unexpected loss. For her having caused it.

  “Nonsense. Is that what has you so worked up?” he asked shaking his head left to right slowly. She hurt for him, he wasn’t understanding the situation.

  She nodded solemnly. “But it’s not nonsense. All those tests . . .” her chin quivered a little, her courage faltering. She could feel the muscles in her jaw working hard as she fought back tears. “When I was little . . . the CVS. There were experimental drugs. I’m . . . I’m sterile.” Two tears spilled over and trailed down her cheek.

  His eyes followed her tear drops. “Are you sure? I thought CVS was the only side-” he stopped himself short, brows furrowed in confusion. Swiping at her tears, she grunted a yes. Gabriel sighed, clearly exasperated with the situation. He pulled her into a tight embrace. “We’ll figure this out.” Her breath caught in her chest.

  “There is always adoption.” But her voice lacked enthusiasm.

  “No,” his voice was firm, harsh even. She bristled at his tone. “No Celeste. I only want my own kids.” She could hear the defeat in his voice, the longing. She silently berated herself. They should have talked about this much earlier in their relationship. She should have thought to bring it up. With both of them working full time, and Gabriel’s long hours at the lab, children had never crossed her mind. Or maybe that was simply because she already knew and therefore never considered his feelings.

  “I’m an awful wife,” she sobbed into his chest. He kissed her hair and pushed her back from his chest.

  “You’re not. You’re twenty-four, still young enough that we didn’t really need to think about kids before this. I can’t believe it never came up but it doesn’t make you a bad wife. I could easily make the argument that it makes me a bad husband, for never having asked you about it.”

  “Right.” She rolled her eyes at him and huffed. “Nothing about you is ‘bad husband’ material.”

  “Oh come on, you can think of something I’m sure.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

  She smiled and wracked her brain for any small thing. “You stay late at work too much leaving me home alone,” she pouted. He grinned and pressed a light kiss to her lips. He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip and stood.

  ~***~

  Celeste headed off to the estate. She treasured her job. She got to be outside daily, mumble to herself a lot, plant things, saw Matteo routinely and had a dog named Max to follow her around everywhere. It was pure bliss. She’d come to think of Dr. B as family. He was ornery and witty and kind. In the winter months she spent four days a week there just helping out around the house and keeping him company. Their relationship was warm and comforting and she couldn’t help but care for him as if he were her own grandfather.

  Shafts of morning light filtered through the trees surrounding the stables. She descended the rock staircase into the garden. Water swept like tears down the stone face of the fountain near the entrance. It was peaceful and serene. Over the last two years she had transformed his beautiful garden into an enchanted secluded getaway. The garden was truly magical now. Moss created a pathway to follow through the weeping branches of trees, flowering plants and greenery. Matteo appeared near the trickling fountain at the center. She grinned at him and waved.

  “Dr. B sent me to find you.” Matteo smelled like a fresh shower and soap, like clothes that were hung to dry in the sunshine. She loved the smell of him. It was uniquely his.

  “Is everything alright?” she questioned with a small smile.

  “I’m sure it is. He didn’t seem upset about anything.”

  “Alright then,” she answered.

  “And you, Celeste? What is on your mind?” he asked as he ran a hand over a day’s growth of stubble on his chin.

  “Nothing. What makes you ask?” His piercing gaze much too perceptive for her liking today.

  He raised both hands in mock surrender. “We’ve got two minds that think as one, fiore mio. Our hearts march to the same beat. Always have.”

  “I hate that you can read me so well. This morning was disastrous.” She threw her hands into the air dramatically then sat down in the grass with a thud. “Gabriel found out I’m sterile this morning.” She looked up to him, wishing he could offer her more than just sympathy but knowing he couldn’t. The anxious twisting in her stomach told her so.

  “I’d hug you but you’re all . . .” Matteo gestured to her clothes and graced her with a playful smile. She glanced down to inspect herself. She was covered elbow to toes in mud. “I didn’t realize he wasn’t aware already.”

  “That’s just it. He seemed so . . . so crushed. I want to kick myself for never having brought it up before now. It was the worst timing too—if you catch my drift.”

  Matteo nodded and offered her a weak smile. They had long ago talked about this very issue. “He loves you and he will get over this. He’s only had hours to adjust to something you’ve known your entire life,” he reminded her.

  “You’re irritatingly wise.” She scowled but laughed. He held his hand out to her and she took the offered pull to her feet.

  “You’ve commented on that before.” He winked. “Now get your ass inside. Dr. B is waiting.” Celeste leaned forward popping a quick, muddy kiss to his cheek and made her way to the main house leaving Matteo blustering about mud behind her. She pushed the side door open. Dr. B stood just inside the kitchen waiting.

  “Sorry I’m all muddy. I’ve been weeding in the garden. They grow so thick in the summer.”

  “Well, at least you know what you’re doing,” Dr. B said, attempting to compliment her. “I don’t have a green thumb at all.” Dr. B waved her farther into the house after she removed her mud-caked shoes.

  “It takes practice. Lots of practice. When I first started gardening, I killed everything . . . twice!” Celeste laughed heartily.

  “I doubt that dear,” he answered wearing a sincere smile. She entered Dr. B’s study close on his heels. She’d been in this room only a handful of times. She took in picture-clad walls and mahogany furniture. There were several spots where pictures that had once hung but were now missing, the sun-faded wallpaper making their absence obvious. Dr. B looked off, grimacing, an indication that something more than his hip was bothering him. After years working for him, she knew Dr. B’s tells. She sat next to him on the couch careful not to get it too dirty. He handed her a cup of coffee before speaking. She took a sip.

  “I don’t get around so well anymore, as you know,” he started. Celeste nodded. “I’ve been torn over how much to tell you dear, but it seems that now I must at the very least share something before asking you to run an errand for me.”

  Celeste felt herself squint at him as if that would help her decipher what he was getting at. “Okay,” she responded slowly. He set his coffee down and placed his hand over her knee. This was far more serious than she expected.

  “You know I consider you family yes?” he said warmly.

  “Yes, of course and likewise.” She smiled.

  “In another lifetime, I was an important doctor. I frequently consult on projects for different governments still. Occasionally, that means visiting the Embassy to deliver my reports.”

  “Do you understand?�
�� he questioned seriously. But his words had fallen on deaf ears. Celeste’s mind was running a thousand miles a second, conjuring up ideas on secret missions the doctor might be part of. Her imagination had never been lacking. His wealth wasn’t simply from making house calls or doing rounds in a Hospital. Come to think of it, she didn’t even know what kind of doctor he had been before he retired. “Celeste?”

  She snapped out of her thoughts and met his eyes. “Yes, yes. I understand.”

  “I have a report that needs to be delivered today. Frankly, I’m just not feeling up to the trek. Can I count on you to drop it off for me?”

  “Of course, I’d be happy to,” she returned. It was endearing that Dr. B trusted her with something he obviously felt was so important.

  “That’s a great weight off my shoulders. I appreciate it my dear.” He stood and shuffled to his desk. Pushing various papers aside he found the ones he was looking for, gathered them together, tapped them on his desk, aligning them, and tucked them into a plain manila envelope. She watched as he scrawled a name across the front and made his way back to her.

  She took the envelope from him and mentally repeated the directions he gave her before heading out.

  The opulent, two-story brick building had been carved into office space long ago.

  As she climbed the interior staircase, she looked down on the intricate mosaic floor that depicted an American eagle with an olive branch in its right foot. She looked at the directory board on the wall and found the name she was looking for. The trudged to the office on the second floor and stepped into a tiny reception area with a vacant desk. A sign told her to ring the bell. She slapped it with the palm of her hand, resulting in an obnoxious clang and giggled. She wasn’t sure what drove her to do it but it had felt good. A man came around the corner in khakis, leather boat shoes, and a blue-and-white-striped button-down shirt. She shrunk a little at his presence, feeling juvenile for the bell ringing.

  “What can I do you for?”

  Celeste held up the envelope. “I’m here to drop this off for Dr. Basle,” she said. The man’s eyebrows rose and he took a step closer to her.