by C. De Melo
Juana looked at me strangely. “I am replacing the towels in your bathroom, Mrs. Adams. Are you feeling all right?”
I looked at the stack of towels in her arms and felt suddenly foolish. I was still wearing my coat. “Yes, Juana, I’m fine. I just ran out to the drugstore…Sorry.”
“Shall I make you some tea?”
“No, thank you.”
Juana excused herself and went into the bathroom. I hung my coat and pretended to clean out my purse until she went downstairs again. I sat on the bed and tried to figure out why the trunk was missing and who could have taken it away. Juana seemed very apprehensive about me learning of its existence. Had she told Michael? Was it he who moved the trunk? What could possibly be hiding inside?
I needed to talk to somebody…but whom? I couldn’t call my mother because it would only cause her to worry. Maddy wouldn’t know what to make of it, either. Why upset her needlessly? I couldn’t ask anything of the house staff since they were loyal to Michael. There was Lance, but after Michael’s confession of jealousy, I didn’t want to risk further problems.
I felt suddenly consumed by an intense feeling of isolation.
Chapter Six
Christmas
Michael decided to host a grand holiday party in honor of my first Christmas as a cryo-person. It would be an elegant white tie affair, and it would be covered by the media (who had been pestering my husband since my awakening). Michael had given a few journalists permission to attend the event. In his opinion, I had healed sufficiently and it was time for the public to get a glimpse of me leading a normal life.
Two of the nation’s top chefs were flown in, and Michael spared nothing: beluga caviar, black and white Tuscan truffles, several cases of Brunello and Prosecco, lobster tails, fresh oysters- the works. Michael’s generosity was extended to me, my mother and my sister in the form of a luxurious spa day at one of the city’s most distinguished salons. He declared that I should not stress or worry about the party preparations. My duty was to look and feel fabulous at his side, and be a gracious hostess.
We arrived at the spa shortly after lunch. We enjoyed full body massages, manicures, facials, chocolate dipped strawberries with expensive French champagne, and exotic hair treatments. As we each sat in our respective salon chairs, I closed my eyes and relished the feeling of being pampered. Maddy was getting her hair blown dry into a straight, chic style and my mother opted for the classic French twist. My hairdresser created a high, loose chignon with several locks of hair carefully draped over my shoulder like a Greek goddess.
I looked at the clock on the wall. “Five forty five and we still need makeovers. Do you think we’ll be done by six-thirty?” I asked of my hairdresser.
“Yes, Mrs. Adams. The makeup artists are pros,” she replied.
“What time are the guests arriving?” Maddy asked as she was being led to a makeup chair across the salon.
“Around seven-thirty, maybe eight,” I replied.
“Will Lance be there, too?” my mother asked, taking her seat beside Maddy.
The makeup artists were already busily cleaning their brushes and getting ready to create their magic. My hairdresser seated me beside my mother.
“He should be there. We sent him an invitation,” I replied.
“I think it’s great that he and Michael buried the hatchet.”
I waited for the makeup artist to apply powder to my face before turning to look at my mother in surprise. “What do you know about their falling out, mom?”
“Go light on the eyes shadow dear,” she said to her makeup artist before answering my question. “Not much except what you told me.”
“Neither of them has ever revealed the reason,” I said. “I’m just glad they’re on better terms. Michael invited Lance to play golf in Florida two weekends ago.”
“Lucky Lance,” Maddy said.
My mother cocked an eyebrow. “That was nice of Michael.”
After several minutes the three makeup artists stepped back, and we gazed in admiration at our mirrored reflections.
“I don’t think I’ve ever looked or felt this glamorous in my life,” my mother said, turning her face to the side to get a better look at her eye makeup.
“Me either,” Maddy said. “I look pretty hot, don’t I?”
“Definitely,” I agreed.
We left the salon feeling like movie stars and raced home in order to get dressed. Juana had picked up our gowns from the seamstress in the afternoon after they had made a few necessary alterations. Michael was not kidding when he told me to look perfect. I had insisted my mother and sister spend the day with me, so their dresses had been delivered, too.
Over eighty distinguished guests would show up in their holiday finery. Both my mother and Maddy chose to wear simple gowns in classic black satin. Since my husband insisted I stand out as hostess, I opted for a cream satin haute couture creation straight from the House of Givenchy in Paris. The strapless gown was fitted on top and gradually flared into an A-line skirt covered with decorative black crystal beading. The result was stunning and dramatic.
“Look at us,” Maddy said. “We’re gorgeous! And we still have plenty of time to enjoy a cocktail before the party starts.”
My mother nodded in agreement. “I could go for a martini.”
“Mom!” Maddy exclaimed.
“What? I was drinking martinis before you were born.”
“Well, I’m not carrying you out if you get drunk,” Maddy teased.
My mother chuckled. “Don’t you worry about that,” she retorted. “I’ve never been drunk in my life.” She paused to think and then added, “Okay, that was a lie.”
We laughed aloud at her confession.
“Go ahead and have a blast, mom. I’m sure Michael or Carlos can easily lift you up if you need to crash here tonight,” I said.
“Oh, good, dear. Well, let’s get started, shall we?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of mom,” Maddy whispered in my ear as we descended the stairs. “I like her wild.”
“Me, too,” I confessed.
“I’m old but not deaf,” she said, keeping pace behind us.
My sister laughed aloud. We stopped to admire the handiwork of the event planners who had transformed our home into a Winter Wonderland full of white lights and evergreen arrangements. A professional DJ was doing sound tests and playing snippets of the latest hits. Soon, music filled every room in the house; loud enough to inspire dancing, soft enough to allow people to talk without shouting. Michael only hired the best.
“It’s like a giant design studio,” Maddy said.
“No kidding,” I agreed.
One of the caterers approached to take our drink order. A moment later, he came back with my mother’s martini and two gin and tonics. We took our respective drinks and held them up.
“Cheers!”
Michael came down a few minutes later looking extremely handsome in an expertly-cut black jacket and immaculate white pinafore. His white silk cravat was perfect, and the cuff links he chose to wear consisted of large onyx stones studded with diamonds.
“You three look absolutely spectacular,” he said.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I retorted playfully.
He kissed my hand. “I know better than to kiss your lips or face.” He did the same to my sister and my mother. “Lee, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you all dolled up. You look wonderful.”
“Thank you, Michael. It must have costs you a small fortune to make me look this good,” she said.
He chuckled. “Nonsense.”
Maria and Juana approached wearing identical black formal maid uniforms. I noticed Maria staring at my husband with a strange expression on her face, something akin to anger. I quickly glanced over at Michael and saw him meet Maria’s gaze with what appeared to be remorse.
“Mr. Adams, the guests are beginning to arrive,” Juana said.
Maria turned her face away and said nothing. Luxur
y cars began to come up the drive. Thankfully, Michael had the good sense to hire a valet parking service.
My mother took both of my hands into her own. “It’s time for us to step back and let you shine, sweetheart.”
“Go get ‘em,” Maddy added.
They watched as Michael and I headed for the front door and raised their glasses at me. As the guests poured in, we greeted them warmly and welcomed them into our home. There were so many famous local faces, including that of the president and first lady.
After saying a few obligatory words to the invited journalists and posing with my husband for a few image shots, I rejoined the party while Michael escorted them out. The journalists attended our event with the understanding that they would leave once they got their story. There were many prominent people wandering through our house, and none of them wanted to be under the nose of pesky reporters.
As I chatted with one of the guests, I noticed Michael walking in the direction of his office. Just about everyone who was expected to arrive had arrived, which meant I could have a break. I took a deep breath and looked around. People seemed to be having fun, but I also noticed a lot of networking and serious conversations taking place. Michael mentioned that most of the people present were affiliated in some way with ALTSYS. Businessmen, politicians and entrepreneurs- all of them had a vested interest in clean energy.
My mouth was dry from so much talking and I definitely needed a drink. As I walked towards a caterer bearing a tray full of champagne-filled flutes, I noticed an attractive man staring at me from across the room. His smoldering dark eyes and caramel skin were exotic. He didn’t look familiar, so I assumed he was one of Michael’s new business associates. I smiled slightly in greeting and he slowly inclined his head in return without breaking eye contact. Perhaps in his mid-forties, his expensive designer tuxedo and diamond Rolex screamed: money. Something about him and the way he looked at me made me wary, however.
“Hello gorgeous,” said a familiar voice in my ear as I snatched a crystal flute from the tray.
I turned my head and a pair of blue eyes met mine. “Lance!”
He embraced me. When he let go, I glanced over my shoulder. The mysterious dark-eyed man was gone.
“Merry Christmas, Zoë”
“Merry Christmas,” I said before I took a sip of champagne.
His eyes slowly took in every inch of me from head to foot. “Wow. You look…ravishing.”
“Thank you. I thought you had forgotten about the party,” I said, feeling my face burn under his scrutiny.
“Are you kidding? This is the social event of the century. Sorry I couldn’t get here earlier. I was tied up.”
I took another sip. The champagne was going straight to my head. “That’s okay. The party only started a few minutes ago for me. The first two hours were spent meeting and greeting people, and then doing a brief interview with journalists.”
“So I came just in time to ask you to dance,” he said, taking the flute from my hand, drinking the remainder of its contents and setting it back on the tray.
Before I could protest, Lance gripped my hand and led me to the small crowded dance floor that had been set up near the DJ. Pulling me into his arms, he began to lead in tune to the music and I followed. His shoulders were broad and his cologne was subtle; a combination of citrus and leather. I’ve never been so close to Lance except for brief hugs, so I never really noticed how tall he was. Even with high heels on, I still had to tilt my head slightly to look at his face.
“You smell nice,” he said, smiling down at me.
“So do you,” I replied.
Why was my heart beating so fast?
I felt the weight and warmth of his hand in the middle of my back. Slowly, it slid lower and drew me in closer. I heard him sigh quietly near my ear and it gave me goose bumps. Oh God...
I stiffened in his grasp and he pulled back.
“I see that Michael chose to display his Matisse collection,” he said as he looked at the series of paintings hanging on the main wall. He was trying to sound nonchalant, casual.
“He thought the vivid colors would add some holiday cheer. The Picasso is in the hallway.”
“Nice choice. Where is Michael, by the way?” he asked, searching the room with his eyes.
“I last saw him somewhere over there,” I replied, pointing in the general direction of his office.
At that moment, I noticed my mother coming from the direction I was pointing. Her expression was troubled and intense; she seemed to be searching the crowd for someone. I watched as she walked into the kitchen.
Maddy approached the dance floor. “Hey, stranger, can I cut in?”
“Maddy!” Lance said.
“You can take my place,” I said to my sister as I stepped away from Lance. “Thanks for the dance, but I need to check on my mom.”
“Anytime,” he said with a wink before sweeping Maddy onto the dance floor.
“Oh, let her be. Mom’s probably getting drunk and having a great time,” Maddy said.
I craned my neck to see if my mother had come out of the kitchen yet. I caught sight of Michael storming out of his office. His expression was fierce. He searched the crowd with the same determination my mother had, and then went into the kitchen. He came back out almost immediately.
What in the world was going on?
As I made my way through the crowd, Michael caught sight of me and walked towards me. “Zoë, you need to come with me right away,” he said.
The anxious tone of his voice alarmed me. “What is it?”
“It’s your mother…”
I followed him into the kitchen. The chefs and caterers were gathered around the center island and staring downward.
“Mom!” I cried, when I saw my mother lying on the floor. “What happened?”
“I don’t know, Mrs. Adams,” Juana said nervously. “She came in asking for water and said she wasn’t feeling well. I told her to sit down and went to get her a glass of water. When I returned, she was on the floor…she must have collapsed.”
“The ambulance should be here shortly,” Michael assured.
“Can’t we fly her to the hospital?” I asked, trying to stay calm.
“The ambulance is already on its way,” he said.
I fought my rising panic as I took her pulse. I was sickened to discover that her heart was barely beating and she was getting colder by the minute. “Mom! Can you hear me?”
Michael knelt beside my mother and began to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but she was not responding. Maddy and Lance entered the kitchen, along with several other guests.
“Oh my God, what happened to mom?!” Maddy demanded.
Lance attempted to calm my sister as she began to cry.
I shook my head. “I don’t know, Maddy...Juana said she just collapsed.”
“The paramedics are here!” someone in the crowd shouted.
I was suddenly pushed aside so two uniformed paramedics could work on my mother. For twenty minutes they tried to revive her, but it was no use. They pronounced her death.
“I’m sorry,” one of them said. “It was already too late.”
“I don’t understand,” I heard myself say. My voice was coming from somewhere far off. “She was fine at the spa today…laughing….martinis…”
The paramedic looked at Michael and said softly, “Massive heart attack, Mr. Adams. We can remove the body out the back door.”
“Massive heart attack?” I repeated, confused.
“Please,” Michael said in a hushed tone. “Make as little fuss as possible.”
Lance and Michael locked eyes and a strange look passed between the two of them. I turned towards my sister and embraced her as we cried together. What began as a fairy tale evening had ended as a nightmare.
***
The funeral took place two days later. My sister and I held hands as our mother’s body was cremated. Refreshments were served at the house afterward. Maddy and I drowned ourse
lves in martinis in honor of our mother. Lance approached to offer his condolences and I clung to him tightly as I gave in to tears.
“I realize there’s nothing I can say to ease the pain of losing a parent. I know this because I’ve already lost both of mine,” he said.
“I miss her so much,” I cried.
He kissed the top of my head. “I know. Just remember the wonderful times you shared together and the laughs you enjoyed. That’s how you’ll keep her alive in your heart.”
Maddy approached and Lance gathered her into his arms. We cried together while Michael watched us from across the room.
Chapter Seven
New Year’s Eve was spent quietly at home. Maddy and I comforted each other in the weeks that followed. I was especially grateful for her presence during this difficult period of mourning. I recalled Lance’s advice and focused on the good memories. There was only one thing that bothered me: my mother did not have a heart condition. In fact, she was in good health. When I first mentioned this to Michael, he replied that modern science had not yet come up with a way to prevent such sudden, fatal attacks. I tried to comfort myself with the fact that my mother had lived a long and full life, but deep down inside something didn’t feel right.
By mid February, Michael received an unexpected guest. I was returning home from a run in the park when I noticed a flashy red Porsche pull up directly behind me as I passed through the security gates. This alarmed me since visitors had to stop at the intercom and announce themselves. The red Porsche was tailing my Mercedes so closely that I could neither back up nor turn around. My only choice was to go forward, so I accelerated down the drive in the hope that I could make it to the house before the Porsche did. My goal was to run inside and set off the main alarm system.
I was unlocking the front door with shaking hands when a man wearing an expensive designer suit and sun glasses came out of the Porsche and gave me a dazzling smile. He seemed relaxed, as if what he did was normal. I, on the other hand, was terrified. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had seen him somewhere before.
