Chapter 9 – Events at the End of a Long and Exciting Day
The whole naming thing had not exactly been heavy lifting. For the most part, it had been what Gwen wanted it to be: fun. Still, everyone felt like a load was off now that the woman, by unanimous consent, had been anointed and appointed Glissy. No last name, of course, but why worry about details. Delegating a first name was a real accomplishment, deserving of food and drink.
Roger left off with the Riesling and got out several bottles of decent Champagne, non-vintage stuff, but good. Slev helped him with the white wine glasses. She had learned the Junes, like many wine aficionados, preferred serving Champagne in these, rather than in flutes. She preferred the old 1940s style Champagne glasses called coupes, that were wide and shallow, but she had to admit the Champagne tasted better in the white wine glasses, even if it didn’t look as cool. Gale took control of the rest of the evening and shooed almost everyone out of the kitchen and into the living room. Gwen caught Jinny’s eye and motioned towards the drawer with the guns in it. He understood she wanted him to take them out and lock them up. He seconded the notion. Roger worked the Champagne angle with help from Jinny (the three guns temporarily stuck in the back of his pants waistband) while Gale and Slev whipped up several large trays of munchies. In fifteen minutes all the food, wine, and people were in the living room. No one saw them in transit, but by the time everyone had found a seat, the two blue cats were sitting on the Steinway baby grand, and the Americano pets were there too. Jinny was sans guns, as on the way he had stopped in the downstairs study and locked them in the gun cabinet. He palmed the key to Gwen.
The natural order of things returned to the June world at this point, which meant The Deneuve became the center of attention. She functioned as the massive nucleus of the atom around which orbited all the small and ephemeral electrons. It had taken an eventful day to twist the order of things into an unnatural state, with the woman, aka Glissy, vying for everyone’s attention. Now she was in her rightful place, orbiting around Deneuve with the other particles.
Catherine first asked Peter and Pater how their ballet academy was doing. Then she asked Slevov how her French cooking was going, and then she wanted to know about Richard’s romance writing, and the fashion news from Gale, and from Guignard whether the Russian blue cats were expecting, effortlessly involving everyone in the conversation.
“Jinny dear,” she said. “What do you know about Champagne?”
“It makes me feel horny,” he said, looking at Guignard, who smiled in return.
Catherine burst out laughing, and said, “You have French blood in you somewhere, Jinn Jinn, and that is a very good thing. It makes me feel that way, too.”
Everyone stopped their thinking. Everyone rested their emotions. Everyone nullified their internal intentions. They absorbed the fact they were sitting with Catherine Deneuve, and she was talking about sex. Sex and Champagne.
“Come over here, Jinny,” she commanded. “Let’s play. Roger, please pour me and Jinny another glass of this special wine.” Jinny squeezed into the space on the sofa between her and Slevov, and thanked the Czars he had been to Pierre’s Men’s Salon earlier and had been shaved twice. There was barely a hint of shadow around the sides of his neck, below his ears. He looked at Gwen and grinned, almost like an idiot. She smiled, and was envious. Deneuve took a sip and looked Jinny in the eyes. She crossed her legs, letting her foot graze Jinny’s ankle. Again her lips touched the rim of the glass, and again the liquid coated her tongue. She opened her mouth slightly, and Jinny could smell the fruity yeastiness of the wine, either from the glass or from her breath. If he had been suave, he would have sipped some himself, but he was a Russian junior league gangster, so he simply sat and absorbed the Deneuvian vibes.
Catherine put her arm on the back of the sofa, letting her hand drop to Jinny’s shoulder. She touched him; she breathed on him; she sipped Champagne. He had not forgotten the touch of her foot against his ankle, and her eyes held his.
The others watched. It was as if she and Jinny were on the screen and the others were sitting in theater seats. The blue cats never had seen anything like this either, however hoity toity they thought their upbringing made them. The Russian court was regal, but it had nothing on the French. And The Deneuve was ALL of France in one beautiful package. Czar schmar. King bling. President smesident. Deneuve blew them away.
“Jinny,” she said. “Now that I’ve had Champagne, I need something else. I need the best thing on earth, dear. Champagne is made for it, you know. It’s made for woman and man. It’s made to sip with great food. It’s made to say thank you for special times and special thoughts and special kindnesses. You, Jinny, are special to me, and to us all. I need the best thing, Jinny. I need it. The Champagne demands it.” With that soliloquy, she leaned forward and kissed Little Jinny Blistov on the mouth. She kissed him French style, right there and then on the June’s sofa, in front of everyone.
Jinny closed his eyes and rode the wave. The kiss lasted three seconds, but he felt as if he had surfed a giant pipeline wave on the North Shore of Oahu for three minutes. When she leaned backwards, for him it was like coming out of the ocean wave pipe to see the sky again. He didn’t want the ride to end, but he knew he couldn’t stay in there any longer.
Catherine reached forward to the coffee table and picked up her wine glass. As Jinny opened his eyes and looked at her, Guignard dropped the salmon canapé she was holding on the Oriental carpet, and Peter and Pater clutched hands. Richard tore his gaze away from Catherine and rested it on Slevov. Gale, who thought she had seen it all, re-evaluated her sense of savoir faire. Roger silently, pathetically, asked God, “Why, why, Jinny?” Glissy now regretted her comment from earlier in the day when she said, “I don’t need perfume to get a man’s attention.” She just had learned that when it comes to manwoman interaction, she still was in grade school. Jesus.
Only Gwen came through the performance intact. She was the only one in the room who saw all and understood all and who felt up to par. She acknowledged another grand lesson, arming herself with another attribute, and smiled at Roger, ready for action with him, anywhere around the world.
The dog waggled over and cleaned up the canapé, which broke the spell, and everyone relaxed into affected nonchalance. Jinny sat with a goofy look on his face, and the cats smirked at his juvenile disposition. Glissy looked around, silently asking, “Ah, what just happened?” Catherine held Jinny’s hand, and asked Gwen the time. Gwen got up, sucking everyone into her own vortex. She said it was 9:30, and time for bed. Gale collected glasses, Guignard left off looking at Jinny and helped clean up. Folks moved into the hallway where Roger said some goodnights. He got his share of kisses in his role as host, but they weren’t the same. Surreptitiously, he continued asking God, “Why, Jinny?”
Gwen realized there was one important item that had been left unattended, and that was, what about Glissy? Where was she going for the night? She went over to Roger and whispered in his ear. He looked at her. Oh, yeah, the woman who had entered their home at 3:45 that morning with a gun in her hand, and who now, somehow, was their friend. What to do with her?
Gwen said, “She’s ok, and the future for her and us is good, but she ain’t staying here tonight. No way.”
At that moment Slevov walked up to them from the living room with Richard and Glissy. She smiled and said, “Glissy is coming home with us. She wants to see Sullivan’s Island, and we have things to talk about.” Roger looked at Gwen, who looked at her good friend Slev, and said, “Thanks.”
Five minutes later everyone except Catherine was gone, and she had retired upstairs. The house was quiet. The Americano cat and dog were outside, and the blues were back on the kitchen counter near the pantry.
What a long and exciting day! Champagne forever.
Gwenny June Page 8
