Jezebel

by K Larsen

  “Can you believe it?” Madison said excitedly.

  “Hardly. I don’t think it will seem real until we’re at the ceremony,” she said.

  “In two hours we will be officially free,” Madison sighed with delight.

  “Thank God.”

  ~***~

  “Annabelle Fortin.” Her name rang out in the auditorium and echoed. Annabelle stood, mumbling ‘excuse me’s’ to her peers as she shuffled to the end of her row. She walked up onto the stage and approached the faculty. Her principal extended her diploma with his left hand and shook her hand with his right. She scanned the crowd quickly and smiled as flash bulbs went off. Mark stood near the back of the auditorium and waved. She grinned and lifted her hand low next to her hip back at him. She scanned the crowd again. Her parents were nowhere to be found. Disappointment flooded her. Surely they hadn’t forgotten.

  ~***~

  Brant,

  I’m on the bus. I graduated today. It’s a feeling I can’t quite describe. It’s also one you will never know. There’s so much you won’t know. So much you missed out on. It’s bittersweet. I know you would have been there today. Standing next to Mark. You would have hollered the loudest when I took my diploma in my hand. You would have made Mom and Dad be there. The whole family would have been there.

  I’m off to see Jez today. I should have invited her. She would have, if I’d thought to make the arrangements.

  -Belle

  Annabelle entered suite 208 and startled as Mark, Jezebel and Madison boomed “Congratulations!” in unison. She clutched her chest, squeaked and then laughed.

  Madison lunged forward, embraced Annabelle then stuffed a small gift in her hands.

  “I can’t stay, you know—party at my house. But I wanted to be here for the surprise.”

  “Who planned this?” she asked.

  “Jez and Mark.”

  “How’d they get you in on it?”

  “Jez told Mark to let me know, he messaged me on Facebook a week ago. I’m on your friends list you know, it’s not like I’m hard to find.” Madison winked. “Speaking of, message me later okay.” Annabelle stifled a laugh as her best friend darted around the room collecting her belongings. “I’d stay if I could you know. I mean, I wanted you to know that I wanted to celebrate with you,” Madison said and shot out the door to head home.

  Mark kissed the top of her head as he wrapped one arm around her and squeezed. “I’ll be right back,” he said. Annabelle nodded, then approached Jezebel.

  “Thanks for this,” she said sincerely. Jezebel opened her arms and pulled her into a bear hug. Annabelle let a single tear leak from her eye. That was all she would allow herself to shed over her parents gaff. Pulling away she moved to her spot and sat.

  “What is it?” Jezebel asked.

  “My parents didn’t come,” she answered. Her voice shook as she tried to compose herself.

  “Fuck them!” Jezebel crowed.

  Annabelle snapped her gaze to Jezebel, mouth agape. She snorted followed by a shy smile before she lost it. She laughed so hard that she clutched at her stomach and fought to catch her breath, the sound of it maniacal in the quiet space between them.

  “What’d I miss?” Mark asked as he sauntered back in looking between them.

  “Nothing,” Jezebel said with a mischievous look to Annabelle. Gratitude washed through her at having someone who really understood her. Who saw her, every side of her. Someone who could even reveal her own self to her. Jezebel’s words weaved with her words into a blanket that held them both. And she was safe. Even in turmoil, she felt safe. The connection was so deep, she almost couldn’t see the sliver of space that existed between them. She shook her head and looked to Mark and plastered a smile on her face. “Yup. Nothing.”

  “I come bearing champagne!” he replied holding up the bottle. Jezebel clapped her hands together and snatched the bottle from him.

  “Did you forget my second request?” Jezebel asked.

  “Nope.” From behind his back he produced a plate with a single cupcake on it, an unlit candle in its center. Jezebel uncorked the champagne bottle with a grin. The cork shot out and bounced off a wall. She caught the overflowing liquid in her mouth. Annabelle giggled at the sight.

  Jezebel lit the candle and set the cupcake and a champagne glass on a tray and set it on Annabelle’s lap. Jezebel looked at her. “Make a wish, kid, and make it count.” The candle’s small flame flickered and danced. Annabelle closed her eyes and blew the candle out. Her wish would never come true but she sent it off into the universe just the same. Jezebel raised her glass up for a toast and Annabelle and Mark clasped theirs and followed suit.

  “To new beginnings.”

  “To new beginnings,” she and Mark repeated with grins.

  After slicing the cupcake into thirds and downing the entire bottle of champagne between the three of them, Mark left to do work. Jezebel twisted her hair up and secured it while Annabelle tucked her legs under her and got comfortable. As Jezebel picked up with Celeste’s story her fingers toyed with the gold chain of her necklace.

  Chapter 26

  Celeste

  Paris 1993

  Celeste missed her play-fights with Gabriel in the kitchen and the bargains they struck to make up. He would take the trash out for a week if she would wear the lingerie he’d gotten her for her birthday. Or perhaps she’d flick flour at him and he’d ravish her right there on the kitchen floor as punishment. She missed their weekend mornings spent in bed. The simplicity of being home together with nothing to do. The way he’d brush his hand at her waist whenever he passed by.

  She was excited for a real date night, finally. There were days when she felt she was losing him. First he’d stopped making their coffee in the mornings. Another few months passed and he stopped reading with her in the evenings, coming home long after bedtime. Gabriel didn’t leave all at once. No. Just moment by moment it seemed. Those thoughts, when voiced, were always brushed aside as irrational. And on some level she knew he was right. Gabriel’s hours at work resulted in her being alone often and that resulted in her feeling like he was disappearing when in reality he wasn’t. Was he?

  Still, she took great care in getting ready for their evening out together. Painstakingly, she curled her hair into a perfect mass of curls—just the way he liked it. Expertly she applied her make-up and dabbed on perfume that he could smell but wouldn’t know where it had been applied until they got back to their bed. She put on her dress, careful not to ruffle her hair or touch her make-up, and wandered downstairs to find her shoes. She wanted to take his breath away. She wanted the validation of seeing his eyes alight with passion when he saw her.

  ~***~

  Celeste and Gabriel sat two feet from each other, a candle on the table casting a romantic glow between them. It might as well have been two miles. It felt like a vast abyss separated them. It was as if shims had been placed between them over time, carefully moving them further apart until all those shims amassed an enormous wedge. She couldn’t fault Gabriel. It wasn’t him persé. It was them both and she knew that. She smiled lovingly at her handsome husband and reached for his hand. It was at least a small step to bridge the distance she felt. Gabriel covered her small hand with his much larger one. She took a shallow breath. The warmth of his hand heated her own.

  He smiled at her warmly, one dimple gracing his face. “Everything alright?”

  “Yes,” she sighed.

  “Did I mention you look edible tonight?” he said, desire lacing his words.

  “No,” Celeste smirked at him and shook her head.

  “You do, mon amour.” Gabriel gave her hand a small squeeze. Celeste sighed as he ran his thumb rhythmically over her skin. The contact made her heart speed up. “So very delicious.”

  “Tell me, how is work going?”

  That dimple appeared on his handsome face again. His eyes lit up and his smile reached ear to ear. “Fantastic,” he gushed. “Very close to it all coming togeth
er now.”

  Their waiter arrived and set their plates in front of them. Gabriel released her hand to make room. Reluctantly, she slid her hand back across the table.

  “Bon appétit,” he said, his native tongue melting her heart.

  Dinner was delicious and the movie they caught afterward had them laughing and quoting one-liners on the way home. It had been ages since they’d had such fun, shared such laughs. Gabriel’s hand rested on her thigh the entire drive and she took joy in tracing the length and lines of his fingers. As they pushed through their front door laughing at each other’s terrible celebrity impressions Celeste found herself happier than she had been in a long time. Perhaps they just needed to make time for more date nights together. Her full and warm heart boosted her mind-set and gave her a sense of peace.

  Gabriel peeled back the blanket and crawled into bed next to her. She stared at the ceiling watching the moonlight shift the shadows around from the window. “What are you working on exactly?” She asked resolving that she wanted to be more invested in her husbands ‘other’ love.

  Gabriel rolled to his side and ran a finger from her temple to her jaw. “Celeste you know I’m not allowed to talk about it.”

  “Oh come on, who would I tell, Gabriel?” she exasperated.

  “Your father would have my head.” His voice was firm.

  She sighed and rolled her eyes at her husband. “I’m not going to tell my dad anything. I just feel like I don’t understand what you’re doing all day-why it’s so important. Are you curing cancer?” she asked a playful hint in her voice.

  Gabriel scoffed. “Hardly. It’s much more devious than that. In 1960 the French government commissioned a team of biochemists to develop a biowarfare drug that would incapacitate, say, an opposing army or base of some sort.”

  Celeste gasped at his words. “Not to kill them Celeste, just keep them down long enough to infiltrate or acquire information. Basically something that worked to paralyze their bodies yet keep their minds and speech functioning.

  “In 1967 they had run animal trials successfully for years so the government sanctioned a human trial. It was a blind study. They contaminated the water at a small restaurant in some remote location in Spain. It failed. Horribly, actually. Everyone who was at the restaurant died. Well, almost; there was one survivor. But after that, the program was shut down. Obviously.”

  Celeste worked to wrap her mind around his words. “Jesus Gabriel. They killed people?” she said shocked. “I don’t understand . . . how does this tie in to what you’re working on?”

  “Celeste, I’m really not sanctioned to tell you more. I’ve said too much already.”

  Celeste pouted. “I just want to understand better. It’s not really the details I want, it’s just . . . I want to understand what you spend all your time on. Why it matters.” She gave him a pleading look. Their night was going so well. Her spirits boosted, soul light. She didn’t want top-secret information. She hoped her expression conveyed to him that she was just . . . trying. Trying to be more invested. Trying to understand his passion. Trying.

  Gabriel held her eyes. She could see his mind turning over whether or not to give in. “We’ve been testing the survivor’s DNA for years now trying to determine what the key was. We’re so close. I can taste it, mon amour. If we can alter the original drug so that it performs the way it was meant—my God Celeste, we’d be rich.” He kissed her jaw and nibbled her earlobe. His dedication to his work was obvious in his passionate rambling.

  “We are rather wealthy already,” she pointed out wrapping her arms around him. Celeste didn’t care about money or material things. She felt like she’d already won just having Gabriel in her life. She just had to be strong until his work was completed. They’d have more time together then.

  “The kind of wealth I’m talking about is different. Governments would kill for this drug. It would change the way wars are fought. My name would be legendary. It would be a major breakthrough.” Gabriel rolled on top of her and stared down at her, eyes hungry.

  “It sounds dangerous,” she breathed. He dipped his head and stole her breath with a kiss.

  “It is. Then again, any work with any government has the ability to be dangerous.”

  “Are you working with French government?” she asked wriggling out of her pajama pants.

  “No, no mon amour,” he answered between kisses he trailed down her chest.

  “Are you testing on people Gabriel?” The thought was blurted before she could stop it.

  His head popped up, above her navel and he stared at her. She couldn’t quite decipher his expression. “Please, there is no need to worry about my work. We’re not doing anything we aren’t supposed to. Everything is by the book,” he answered.

  “Well I’d hope so. How many died?” she asked. He stared blankly at her. “At the restaurant?” she said.

  “Oh. I don’t know . . . thirty-two maybe,” he answered. Celeste pushed up on her elbows, eyes wide. “My God, Gabriel, how did that never make the news? History? How were all those deaths explained? Those poor families,” she said her voice full of sorrow for the people affected.

  “Celeste, my beautiful wife,” he kissed her forehead. “I suspect that governments can and will cover up anything they want. It was a long time ago. It’s not for us to worry about.” His head dipped to the spot where her shoulder and neck met and he bit lightly. A great sigh escaped her and she sunk back into the bed as Gabriel continued his plight down her torso. “Let me give you something better to worry about.” He smirked up at her and spread her legs wider. She pushed aside her thoughts of deaths, drugs and governments, swatted at his head, laughed, and let her husband do as he pleased.

  Chapter 27

  Annabelle

  “after the bliss has long ended-this caution this fault, give me a breeze that’s long winded.”

  ~ Exhausted, Foo Fighters

  Mark drove, one hand on the wheel, the other holding her hand. Annabelle smiled. She thought about her parents. Would they be at home to greet her, to wish her congratulations, to offer a hug? She was nervous.

  “Congrats again babe,” Mark said throwing the truck in park. She still hadn’t told him it wasn’t her house. She always waved him off and waited until he pulled away to walk a few doors down to hers. She didn’t know why exactly. At first she didn’t want her parents seeing her get dropped off, but today, it felt like something more.

  “Thanks,” she answered. Mark leaned across the cab to her, his face hovering just inches from hers.

  “Annabelle,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to kiss you now.” One hand slid around the back of her neck and tugged, closing the distance between their lips. When they met, she stilled at the sensation. She wasn’t inexperienced but Mark’s kiss felt unlike all the previous ones she’d received. It was warm, gentle and flawless. Unspoiled by a bad attitude or grief or sorrow. She let herself go and gave into the moment, feeling the high of it. When he finally pulled away she was breathless, dazed, content and full.

  “We should do that again,” she said. Mark’s laugh filled the cab of the truck as he hugged her. He kissed the top of her head.

  “We will,” he answered. “Talk to you later on?”

  “Definitely.” She hopped out of the truck and waved Mark off as he pulled away.

  When his taillights disappeared she walked three houses down to hers and climbed the front steps. The answer to all of her earlier questions about her parents was: no. The house was dark and silent when she arrived and she was glad she wasn’t dumb enough to get her hopes up. After reading the note taped to the fridge door, saying her mother was at the country club at some meeting, she headed straight for her room. She noticed her father in his office as she walked by. She didn’t bother to stop. What was the point?

  ~***~

  Annabelle tossed and turned. It was well after midnight and despite all the tricks she could think of to try, she couldn’t trick herse
lf into falling asleep. The disappointment of her parents missing her graduate coursed through her. She kicked the blankets off and stared at the ceiling. In the silence, a sudden sound rang out. Tink. Tink. Tink. Annabelle swung her legs over the edge of the bed, irritated, and walked to the window. Tink. Tink. Tink. She brushed the curtain aside. Squinting, she peered out the window.

  Mark.

  Standing under a tree, Mark smiled. His teeth almost glowed in the moonlight. He bowed in her direction before holding up a wrapped box toward her. Annabelle stifled a giggle. What was he doing here? She held up a finger to indicate she needed a minute. He nodded and sat at the base of the tree.

  She tugged on yoga pants under her nightshirt and carefully opened the window. It squeaked when it got to a certain point. She threw one leg out and found her footing on the trellis before swinging her other leg out too.

  “What are you doing?” Mark whisper yelled.

  “Coming out.”

  “Are you too cool for the door?” he asked.

  “Shhh.”

  Annabelle jumped down the last two feet and landed with a soft thud in the dewy grass.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Mark ran a hand through his hair and smiled at her before looking at the ground. “I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about how disappointed you looked and I wanted to do something about it.”

  “How’d you even know where I live?”

  “I know you wait for me to drive off before walking here. I can still see you in my rearview.” Annabelle squeezed her eyes shut, embarrassed. “Figuring out which window was yours was the tough part.”

  “How many rocks did you have to throw?”

  Mark laughed and shook his head. “Come here,” he said pulling on the front of her shirt. The look in his eyes had Annabelle’s heart stumbling in her chest. She moved toward him, but only a little. He pulled her closer still. She reached out and traced a finger from jaw to neck to shoulder and down his stomach. He was so much harder than she expected. Like all his muscles were right on the surface. He sucked a breath in through his teeth at the contact as her fingers hooked the waistline of his jeans and hung there.