She awoke to the sounds of animated discussion between her parents and sister. She ventured out to the dining room, where Henri Montrouge greeted her by planting a kiss on the top of her head.
“Welcome home, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re staying with us for a little while.”
“Hi Dad. Thank you.” Sabrina said as Giulia Montrouge walked over and swatted her playfully.
“It’s about time you came to visit us! After spending Christmas and New Year’s in Paris, we’d thought you’d disowned us.” Mrs. Montrouge said half jokingly.
“Mom, don’t be silly. You and Dad were in Colorado anyway. But it is good to be home now.”
The reunited family sat down to dinner a few minutes later. Somehow the sisters managed to make it through dinner without any mention of their personal lives. Mrs. Montrouge was about to serve fruit cups for dessert when the topic of Sabrina’s personal life inevitably came up.
“So, Sabrina, are you involved with anyone right now?” Her mother asked bluntly. Sabrina and Cara exchanged a look.
“Actually, yes I am.” Sabrina replied, twirling her spoon around nervously in the fruit cup.
“You are?! Sabrina, you didn’t mention that to me!” Cara exclaimed, feeling hurt.
“I know, Cara. I didn’t think it was the right time after what you had just told me about Bruce.”
“We don’t speak that name in this house any longer!” Henri Montrouge said sternly.
Ignoring her father, Cara accused Sabrina, “Why not? Did you think I would be jealous?”
“No, Cara. I was just trying to be considerate of your feelings. In any case, it’s not a serious relationship. I’ve only just met the man.” Sabrina glanced around the table, noting that all eyes were riveted on her, waiting for details. “His name is Giovanni Salvatore. He’s a fireman in Burlington, and we met while I was taking a walk along Lake Champlain.”
“That sounds romantic! Why haven’t we heard about this man sooner?” Mrs. Montrouge pressed, placing her spoon down on the table.
“Because we just started seeing each other last week!” Sabrina marginally tolerated the wave of curious inquiries that infiltrated the room, sharing with her family everything she herself knew about Gio. Her parents were concerned when she got to the part about his family tragedy and thought he must be burdened by a tremendous amount of emotional baggage. They were even more worried when she told them that she was assisting him in an arson investigation. Cara, however, in dire need of a project to distract herself from losing Bruce, was eager to join the investigation and reminded Sabrina that in a few short weeks, after passing the bar exam, she would be a bona fide attorney. By the time the table was cleared, all three Montrouges were well-informed about Sabrina’s new beau.
The subsequent days and nights passed sluggishly for Sabrina, and she often found herself fantasizing about Gio. Each morning, when she would take her camera to Central Park, the Botanical Gardens, or any other charming locale, she envisioned him at her side. Sabrina would not admit to herself that she missed Gio, but she certainly wanted to see him again. One afternoon, after a morning spent snapping photos of fishermen on the docks, Sabrina returned home gratefully to an empty apartment. Her parents were at their respective Midtown offices, and Cara was in class at law school.
As Sabrina poured herself a refreshing glass of lemonade, her thoughts predictably drifted to Gio again. She had neglected to give him her parents’ phone number before leaving the previous week and now wondered if he was as eager to talk to her as she was to him. There was only one way to find out.
Sabrina had never called Gio before but had kept his phone number written on a slip of paper stored safely in her wallet. Digging it out and making her way to the telephone, she felt her heart begin to accelerate in anticipation. Anticipation quickly turned to doubt. What if he felt it was too forward of her to call him? Was it too soon in the relationship? Sabrina was a woman who enjoyed the grandeur of an old-fashioned courtship, but she was also a free-thinking individual. Brushing aside all fears, she picked up the receiver and dialed Gio’s number.
Before she could finish dialing, a rapping at the door made her leap up in a startled motion. Who could be at the door? She wondered, setting down the receiver and tip-toeing over. Even though it was broad daylight, Sabrina was conscious of the fact that she was alone in New York City and vulnerable to whomever was at the door. The rapping persisted as Sabrina looked out the peephole to glimpse a young man in a delivery uniform. With slightly less trepidation, she slid the door open.
The young man tipped his hat politely, obviously charmed by the sight Sabrina made in her curve-hugging pink jumpsuit. “Good afternoon, Miss. I have a telegram for Sabrina Montrouge.”
“Yes, that’s me.” Sabrina said quizzically, accepting the pen that the deliveryman offered her and signing for the telegram. She pulled a couple of folded bills from her purse and handed them to the young man who thanked her and went on his way. Intrigued, Sabrina tore open the telegram and read its terse contents:
Sabrina: Urgent: Call: Gio.
She caught her breath registering who it was from, persuaded that there could be a telepathic connection between she and Gio. But what could the urgency be? She scurried over to the phone again and dialed his number. After three rings, she supposed he might be out, most likely at work, but on the fourth ring, he picked up.
“Hello?” His deep voice intoned.
In her signature sweet voice, tinged with wide-eyed curiosity, Sabrina said, “Hello Gio.”
“Sabrina?! Is that you?”
Thrilled that he had recognized her voice and sounded excited to hear it, she replied, “Yes, it’s me. How are you? Is everything OK? I just received your telegram.”
“I’m great now that you’ve called. I actually wanted to call you last week, but you didn’t give me your phone number there. That was the reason for my telegram. There’s no real urgency, except that I couldn’t wait another day to talk to you.”
His characteristic candor soothed Sabrina and allayed her previous nerves. “Gio, that is so sweet. I have to say that your telegram scared me for a minute there. I thought something was wrong.”
“Everything’s all right now.” He said seductively. “How’s your work coming?”
“Most of my work is done, so now I have some free time. I honestly don’t know why my boss would send me on assignment for ten days to take pictures of New York, but I’m not complaining.”
Gio chuckled. “Yeah, I can’t say you’re doing hard labor over there, Primrose.”
“Hey! Getting around New York City is pretty laborious, believe me.”
“Can’t argue with you there.” He paused for a few breaths, then resumed. “Sabrina, since you’re done with your assignment but stuck in the city for a few more days, would you like me to join you? I mean, I have a shift later today, but I have Friday off. I could drive over in the morning. Then on Saturday, after the party we can head back to Vermont together.”
“That would be great! But where are you going to stay on Friday night?” Sabrina asked cautiously.
Avoiding a joking comment about staying with her, Gio said respectfully, “I’ll stay in a hotel. New York has plenty of those, right?”
“Yes! Gio, I’m so glad that you’re coming early!”
“Not as glad as I am. I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” Gio ventured to express these emotions and then cleared his throat, assuming a more formal manner. “Like I said, we can spend the whole day together, maybe go to a museum, get something to eat, just walk around.”
Sabrina felt euphoric, not comprehending until this moment how lonesome her stay in New York had been so far. Enthusiastically, she suggested, “Since you mentioned a museum, why don’t we meet on the steps of the Met?”
“The Met?” Gio echoed.
Sabrina forgot how non-New Yorkers sometimes did not understand the abbreviation for the famed museum. In fact, the abbreviation could also refer to the Metropolit
an Opera House. Sabrina clarified, “Yes, the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”
“Oh, of course. I’m not used to hearing it called “The Met.” For a second, it made me think of the baseball team.”
“You mean the Mets! No, I wouldn’t ask you to meet me on the steps of Shea Stadium! Unless you’re a baseball fan.”
“I like baseball a lot, but I’d rather play than be a spectator. That’s my philosophy of just about everything in life.” Gio’s voice betrayed another meaning that Sabrina readily understood. “Just to be safe, taking traffic delays into consideration, let’s say we’ll meet at the museum at three o’clock on Friday, ok?”
“OK, sounds perfect! I’ll see you then.”
“See you then, Sabrina. Good to hear your voice. Bye.”
“Bye Gio.” Sabrina tried to contain her exhilaration, but since she was alone, she let out a little scream of happiness. It had been so many years since she had experienced any feeling remotely like this. Although she didn’t want to put a label on it, she knew subconsciously that she was falling in love.
*****
Friday was an idyllic afternoon for carefree traipsing around the city. As Sabrina strolled towards the Met, a gentle breeze rustling her cascading chestnut hair, she felt like she was meeting her secret lover for a rendezvous. In a way, Gio was a secret. Her family had not yet met him and she aimed to keep it that way for the time being. The blossoming of this relationship was too fragile to bring outsiders, with all their opinions and expectations, into the picture. The only voices Sabrina wished to hear belonged to her and the handsome fireman who waited for her expectantly on the museum steps, casually gripping a rail with one of his burly hands.
Sabrina eyed him from the street, not wanting him to spot her just yet. He was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses, along with a crisp gray flannel shirt tucked neatly inside blue jeans that accented his narrow hips and muscular thighs. Giddily, Sabrina raced up the stairway until she was standing directly in front of him. Spontaneously, she greeted him with a peck on the cheek.
Gio pulled her into his embrace, kissing her firmly on the mouth, then stepping back to look admiringly at her. She was a striking portrait in her pale yellow sundress, white button-down sweater and matching sandals. “You look beautiful, Sabrina.” He said, removing his sunglasses.
“Thank you, Gio. I’m so glad you came today.”
He smiled, holding her hand as they entered the museum’s glass doors and stopped at the reception desk to pay the fee and pick up a map. The Met was an imposing museum, even for a native New Yorker and art lover like Sabrina. It was virtually impossible to view all of the collections in a single afternoon. The pair decided to focus their visit on the museum’s first floor, which housed impressive assortments of French Impressionist paintings, juxtaposed with ancient Egyptian artifacts. The urge to hold one of the many wood carvings in her hands possessed her, as she marveled at the intricately cut and molded bowls, cups, and vases. She glanced over at Gio, disappointed to see an uninterested expression on his face.
“Are you bored?” She asked pointedly.
“No.” He was offended. “Why would you say that?”
“I’m sorry. It was just the look on your face…and you haven’t commented about any of the pieces.”
Gio sighed heavily. “Listen, I’m glad to walk through this museum with you. I’m glad to walk through anywhere with you. But objects don’t impress me. I told you how I’ve come to realize that nothing is permanent in this life.”
“OK, nothing is permanent. That’s not on the table for dispute. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t take interest in these incredible works of art.” Sabrina was disheartened, wondering why he had suggested going to a museum if he was going to have such a negative attitude.
“Sabrina, you didn’t hear me complain, did you? Just let it go. I want you to enjoy this.”
But Sabrina was flustered by his behavior and persisted, “Why don’t we just leave if you’re not having a good time? I don’t want you to stay here just for me.”
“You don’t know when to let things go, do you? I noticed that about you the first time we had dinner. Look, I had a very rough shift last night. It was a house fire near Church Street. No one was hurt, but the whole house was destroyed. The couple who owned the house was griping about how they lost their record collection and cabinet full of stupid knick-knacks. I couldn’t believe the ingratitude. I mean, I wouldn’t be overjoyed to lose my belongings either, but I would at least be grateful to be alive.”
“I’m sure they were grateful! How did you expect them to react? You yourself said that sorrow can’t be quantified. If they were grieving the loss of their possessions, it really represented grief over a loss of security.”
“Now you’re not only a criminal investigator, but also a psychologist, I see? Sabrina, you grew up in a sheltered Manhattan world. You don’t know what I go through every day. Newspapers portray a fireman’s job as quaint…climbing up a tree to rescue a scared kitten. That’s a mockery of what we do.”
Sabrina was stunned by this incongruous behavioral shift and had the sudden urge to flee, but instead spat back at him, “I don’t know what makes you think that I have such a naïve perspective on a fireman’s work, but your presumptions, once again, are insulting! As for my ‘sheltered Manhattan world,’ that’s another misconception of yours. My parents have worked hard their whole lives and still do, both of them! They rent an apartment…I’m the one who decided to buy a house, and I did it with my own salary. Not a dime came from them. You really have some nerve!” Sabrina’s eyes were fiery with indignation.
Gio stared at her, smirking outrageously. “Feisty for a Primrose.” He said, swooping his head down and kissing her right there in the middle of the ancient Egyptian artifact collection. Sabrina was scandalized as tourists gawked at the pair, but she was aroused nonetheless and kissed the blasted man back with a teasing, promising passion. Abruptly, she broke off the kiss, pleased to see the smirk obliterated from his arrogant face and replaced by a slow-kindling, high-voltage desire that she had deliberately stoked.
Smugly, she asked, “Would you like to see some Renaissance sculpture, or have you had enough museum for one day?” His eyes caught hers, and she could discern in them a fierce need to finish what they had started several times. She was sure that her rosy cheeks and disarrayed hair betrayed an ardor to match his, but she would not give him the satisfaction of admitting it with words. Instead, she stomped her foot impatiently and asked again, “Renaissance art or Ausgang?”
“Silly Primrose. Did you think you could stump me with the word Ausgang? It so happens that I took German in high school. I know Ausgang means ‘exit.’” His tone was mocking, and Sabrina was once again impressed by the knowledge this man possessed. He certainly was arrogant, but Gio was as brilliant as any formally educated man she had ever met.
“Since you know what the word means, would you like to answer my question?” She asked with deliberate tartness.
“Ausgang.” He growled and grabbed her hand. “Take one last look at all the pretty pictures, Sabrina. We’re not going back to a museum anytime soon. Let’s go get some grub.” Outside the museum, Gio hailed a taxi cab and instructed the driver to take them to Chinatown.
“I hope you like Chinese food, Primrose.” Gio said teasingly. Suddenly, Sabrina deciphered the puzzle of Gio’s attitude. This rudeness and callousness stemmed from his physical frustration. The man, the gorgeous, muscular fireman, was probably spoiled getting his way with women. Here she was presenting him with a challenge, with a treasure chest and a lock for which he did not have the combination. While Sabrina did not fancy herself the type of woman to play games with men, she enjoyed the power that this newfound discovery imparted with it. Each time she and Gio met, their chemistry heightened, and it was a most enjoyable ride indeed. Why smite the intensifying magnetism before it had a chance to peak? Sabrina found it exciting to have a man with whom to banter. The spicier their verb
al exchanges were, the more electrifying all other levels of their relationship had the potential to be.
Northern Moonlight Page 8
