The Essence of Fate

by Alison E. Steuart

  Erika: Me too. I’m sorry. The timing just wasn’t right. You’re going to do fine. You need this!! Who knows…maybe there is some hot French guy that is just waiting for a tasty morsel like you to come along and do all that yummy stuff that French guys do in the bedroom. Could be just what the doctor ordered

  * * *

  Me: Sounds more like what Erika ordered…for Erika :/

  * * *

  Erika: Lmao! Yeah, you’re right. Shit! I’m so jealous you’re going to France without me. Do you know how many fantasies I could make come true over there?

  * * *

  Me: Plenty, I’m sure. No doubt they include Pierre AND Francois or maybe some chick named Antoinette!

  * * *

  Erika: Those are some seriously generic French names.

  * * *

  Me: You got my point.

  * * *

  Erika: Yeah…a little menage could be fun. They’re probably really good at it. They made it up, right?

  That makes me laugh out loud. I’m so glad she texted me; it’s obviously calmed my nerves because my leg has finally stopped its nervous tremor.

  Me: Lol! I don’t know. Maybe they just made it sound cool. Menage a trois sounds way more sexy than threesome.

  * * *

  Erika: Omg! I’m dying! Fucking hilarious…we are such rednecks! You are so spot on. Menage a trois sounds freaking yummy with super hotness and people that smell delicious. Threesome sounds like a creep show where everyone’s got dirty feet, bad haircuts, and hygiene issues.

  * * *

  Me: Wow. That was a pleasant visual. Thanks.

  * * *

  Erika: Still laughing! This is how French people probably picture an American threesome… Let her suck my dick now Ned. Yer bein’ greedy. Shut up Billy Bob and grab my balls, I’m fixin’ to cum!

  * * *

  Me: You are twisted and are never allowed to write about redneck threesomes ever again!!

  Erika: I’m going to be laughing about that for days!

  I hear the announcement for first class boarding, and butterflies swarm in my tummy.

  Me: Ugh…they just called for boarding. I’ve got to run. I’ll text you when I get there. Love you!!

  * * *

  Erika: Okay babe. Be safe, have fun, get drunk, get laid, and tell Uncle James I said hi!:). Love you!!

  A few glasses of wine chilled me out enough to induce several hours of sleep for the longest leg of my journey. The rest was spent watching movies, making the time go by quickly.

  James sent his driver to pick me up at the airport, as I requested. I haven’t seen my uncle in a while, and with my fragile emotions, I didn’t want to risk bawling my eyes out in the middle of a public place if he picked me up.

  James’s home and the resort he owns are in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, which has to be one of the most beautiful places in the world. This paradise in the South of France is saturated with old money and is so exclusive, many of the world’s wealthiest people pay ridiculous amounts of money to live here, vacation here, or simply hide here from the rest of society. Regardless of the area’s exclusivity, my uncle’s home is one of the most warm and welcoming places I’ve ever been. Situated on the side of a rocky hill, not quite a cliff, right above the shoreline of the Mediterranean Sea, its view expands out to the horizon, creating a backdrop of that magnificent blue that has been perfected by this small body of water.

  It’s a somewhat modest French Provincial home, compared to most of the houses nearby, anyway, with a massive veranda that is partly covered to shade the outdoor living and dining area. Just steps away is an infinity pool that blends into the view of the sea beyond so precisely, you can’t help but pause to appreciate such a well-crafted design. The surrounding trees and vegetation offer complete privacy, while the various shades of green pop in contrast to the blues of the sea and sky.

  The interior is bright and airy with big windows and doorways that make the view an integral part of the living space. His interior designer chose soft blues and greens as accents to the creamy white walls, architectural features, and furnishings, while the wood parquet floors, exposed beams, and various antique pieces anchor each room with their warm brown tones. It is truly magnificent.

  As I walk out onto the veranda with my breakfast, Uncle James offers me a genuine smile and says, “Good morning, sleeping beauty. You’re adjusting well. I thought you’d be asleep for at least a few more hours.”

  “I’m forcing myself to adjust. I want to be awake when the sun is out. It’s too beautiful not to be,” I say sincerely.

  “Can’t argue with you there. I thank God every day for my good fortune,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee.

  It is such a delightful morning, and we stay outside and chat a while about The Clara Sea and some of my concerns regarding updates and board members putting on the brakes. He agrees and assures me that whatever improvements need to be made will be… He’ll deal with the board.

  It’s a relief to know he’s on my side. Though my life has been consumed with all-things-Ian for the past six months, the issues at the resort have been weighing heavily in the background. Knowing that I will have a few projects to move forward with when I return gives me something to look forward to.

  That afternoon, he takes me sightseeing and out to lunch at the most amazing restaurant. Not only do they serve the best food I’ve ever put in my mouth, it’s also the most charming place, tucked into the trees that canopy the outside seating while the entire restaurant overlooks the bay. We hear birds singing as a gentle breeze drifts by, and citrusy mimosas top everything off. I am genuinely enjoying myself for the first time in a month and I don’t want to leave. However, James really wants to give me a tour of the resort so I can see some of the renovations they’ve done and go over how they are cutting costs without altering the quality and standards that guests expect when spending that kind of money.

  Entering the lobby of The Jardin d’Ferrat, I have to stop then slowly spin around, taking it all in… It’s breathtaking! This showplace is the most luxurious, most exclusive property my uncle owns and has earned its reputation as one of the finest resorts in the French Riviera. As expected, I can’t help but compare it to The Clara Sea, and regardless of how proud I am or how beautiful it is or how much people love it, it is insignificant compared to this.

  “Uncle James, you’ve outdone yourself with this one,” I commend, taking in the grandeur he has created.

  “Thank you, dear. I thought you might like it.” I can tell by the look on his face, as subtle as it is, that he is very proud—and rightfully so.

  “Like? I absolutely love it…and I’ve only seen the lobby! I’m dying to see the rest. Let’s go!” I’m so excited, I hook my arm through his and head toward the giant windows on the other side of the lobby as his laugh echoes around us.

  We spend hours touring the resort. The Jardin d’Ferrat is an eye candy treat like I’ve never experienced. I’m so inspired I tell Uncle James that his bank account may regret showing me this magnificent place, to which he agrees. I must take a hundred pictures and write pages of notes. My brain is exploding with ideas and improvements for The Clara Sea, and it doesn’t dawn on me until we get home that I spent an entire day happy, truly happy for the first time since I train-wrecked my relationship with Ian. I knew coming to France to visit my uncle, who is like a father to me, was a good decision. I feel lighter, my head seems clearer, and I’m not having that terrible anxious feeling in my chest that I hate so much.

  We spend the next day out on the water, which is spoiling me in a totally different way. Everything about this place is pure opulence. The lush green of the trees and vegetation, the color and clarity of the water, the exceptional weather, the history, the architecture, the food, everything…it’s truly amazing.

  I think the sunshine and salt air has enabled me to sleep like a baby for the first time in weeks, too. Joining Uncle James on the veranda, a hot cup of coffee in hand, I am refreshed and ready
to enjoy another sun-filled day. Selfishly, I have to say I’m happy James’s girlfriend is visiting her mother in the UK for the next two weeks. I get along with her, but I don’t know her that well, and I would have been less at ease if she were here. Perhaps she’s a really thoughtful person and realized that, so she made plans on purpose to let us spend some much-needed time together.

  “You seem like a different person from when you arrived. Apparently you needed this vacation. I’m glad you finally made it happen,” James says, making me wonder how bad I really looked when I got here.

  “Oh my gosh! I needed this more than you know. I am definitely a new person,” I agree, hoping he doesn’t notice my concern.

  Cutting right to the chase, his deep voice echoes across the table. “Now that you’ve had time to release some of the tension and clear your head, why don’t you tell me what happened between you and Ian,” he says in a way that means he wants the truth.

  A slight wave of panic sneaks in as I think about what I’ve done and the decisions I’ve made. But I answer anyway, not wanting to lie to my uncle. “Well…I made a mistake…about a month ago. A pretty big mistake. I saw Ian with another woman and assumed he was cheating on me, and I left him…without a word. When I found out the woman he was with was his cousin and everything could be explained, I knew how unfair it was to Ian. How hurtful it was. Yet, I couldn’t swear that it would never happen again, that I wouldn’t allow my insecurities to rule my actions, and it made me realize…basically, he is better off without me. So I never tried to make it right, never gave him a sincere apology, and I told him that it just wasn’t meant to be between us.”

  “And how did that work out for you?” he asks in a straightforward tone.

  Looking up at him, I see the concern in his eyes, and I have an overwhelming urge to cry. He probably knows this has more to do with my parents than Ian. I really don’t want to go there, but I know he’s not going to leave me a choice.

  “Quite horrifically, truth be known,” I respond on a fake laugh. “I doubt my decision every day. It has affected me emotionally, physically, intellectually…everything! I just want to go back to the day before I let my insecurities take control.” I look down at my lap as the tears well up. “We were supposed to officially move in together that weekend,” I say in a sad whisper.

  “You already know the solution to this problem, don’t you?” he asks, surprising me.

  “No…I wish I did,” I answer, still not looking up.

  “Charlotte. Look at me,” he says firmly, and I do. He’s such a handsome man, like my father, but James seems wiser, more experienced. “I want to explain something to you, something important that you need to understand. My brother was a good man in many ways. He was smart and built a hugely successful business. He was so proud of you and loved you very much…and believe it or not, he loved your mother.”

  The tears are streaming down my face as I hear him say something that sounds foreign to my ears.

  “You may not want to believe that, knowing that he was unfaithful, but the truth is that he did, perhaps too much. He thought of your mother as this perfect, fragile, rare work of art that needed to be protected and taken care of and treated with only the gentlest touch. I would occasionally tell him that she was human, an individual that had her own mind, her own needs and desires, that he should ask her what she wanted and not decide for her.”

  I’m glued to every word he’s saying, because in the back of my mind, I remember thinking the same thing. But I was a teenager and didn’t think it was my place to say anything.

  James continues. “Michael’s success in business was inevitable. He was always driven, took chances, and looked for any challenge that would give him an adrenaline rush. You’re old enough now for me to tell you this, but men like that, especially as they get older and become mired in the headaches and monotony of their careers, they become restless and start looking for outlets to release some of the tension and light the spark that used to keep them moving full steam ahead. A lot of them can find that kind of satisfaction with their wives, but your dad didn’t want to expose her to what he was craving, even though he was craving it with her. He said she was the type of woman you made love to gently, then held her after and made sure she felt special and wanted. I told him he was wrong, but he wouldn’t listen, so he decided to burn off his more aggressive desires with women he didn’t care about…not in the way he cared about your mother, that is.”

  I’m staring at my uncle, a million thoughts racing through my head, not really sure I can believe what I’m hearing. But the one thing I want to know right now escapes my lips.

  “Women?” I ask.

  “Yes, Charlotte. Women. Not as many as the look on your face says you’re thinking. He had two affairs. The first woman allowed him to scratch the itch, per se, but she started getting attached so he broke it off. As wrong as it sounds, he wasn’t looking for an emotional relationship. He had that with your mother. He was looking to spend energy he was afraid to use with Elise. The second is obviously the woman that died in the car accident. It was their second time meeting each other, and the only thing he said about her was that she was pleasant and wasn’t looking for commitment.” He pauses to let it sink in.

  I’m a little nauseous, and my head is spinning. “What am I supposed to do with this information, James? He cheated on my mother, twice. He was looking for kinky sex, so he used other women to get his rocks off.” My voice escalates before James cuts me off.

  “Charlotte. That’s enough. I didn’t tell you this so that you could act like a sixteen-year-old. What Michael did was wrong, there is no denying that, but as screwed up as it sounds, he did it because he loved your mother. Quite frankly, to the point of obsession, and that obsession backfired in the worst way possible.” His voice is sad as he finishes his statement.

  “James, I’m sorry. You’re right, that was selfish of me. He was more than my father. He was your brother, and I know how close the two of you were. You lost your best friend. I know that was hard.” I need to stop being selfish, but at the same time, James has provided me with information that is hard to accept, let alone wrap my head around.

  “Listen, I’m sorry if this seems like too much information, but it’s time you knew the truth. Your dad did not cheat on your mother because he was bored or he had lost interest in her or he was just an arrogant jerk that didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. He had desires that he felt would be harmful to the woman he loved and cherished like a priceless doll. He created a fragility in his wife that was unnecessary and a sickness in his own mind that ate away at his common sense.” He looks out over the water and thinks for a minute. “On the surface, what happened with your parents seems like the same thing that has destroyed marriages and lives a million times over. But it wasn’t, Charlotte. I don’t want you to go through your adult life thinking that your dad was a dime-a-dozen philanderer. It was more complicated than that. I knew Michael better than anyone. He loved your mother… Charlotte, he loved her so much it made him lose touch with reality.”

  He grabs hold of my hand. “I’m so sorry. Your parents’ story ended in tragedy at a time in your life when you were most vulnerable. You’ve overcome so much, like a fighter, and I am so proud of you for that.” He gives my hand a supportive squeeze and his voice lowers. “You and Ian are not Elise and Michael…and you never will be. You know what I’m saying is true, Charlotte. I haven’t met him, yet, but from everything you’ve told me, it isn’t hard to figure out that the two of you were meant to be together and are very much in love. This is your love story, honey… Why the hell would you give it away?” I can hear the disappointment in his voice—it’s the same disappointment I have in myself.

  “I don’t know.” My voice is heavy with sadness and confusion. “It was so wrong of me to do what I did to him. It hurt him badly… I know it did. My God, he moved all my stuff out of his apartment within 24 hours. He probably wouldn’t take me back, anyway. That’
s why I keep telling myself I did the right thing…for Ian.”

  “Okay. Now that you’re done bullshitting yourself…because you are done, understand?” His one brow is raised in authority. “Why don’t we get back to the original question? What is the solution to the problem you created?”

  I stare at him, somewhat taken aback by the firmness in his tone. I’m not offended, at all…but he’s backing me into a corner, and I know he’s not going to give me an out. I huff out a breath and stutter, “James…I—”

  “Charlotte. Give me the solution to the problem,” he repeats patiently.

  It dawns on me at that moment that it was Uncle James’s strength and faith in my own strength that got me through my father’s death, my mother’s addiction and inevitable passing, and all the painful discoveries in between. He always made me talk about what I was feeling, made me face my reality head-on and not make excuses. He was compassionate, but he refused to let me crumble under the weight of my emotions. I scaled hurdles that seemed impossible because James showed me that I could do it. He had faith in me then, and I can see in his eyes that he has faith in me still.

  Taking in a deep lungful of the clean Mediterranean air, I answer, “I need to go to him… Tell him the truth. Tell him why I lied, that I thought he would be better off without me.” Looking up at James as I wipe a tear from my cheek, I finish with, “Then let him decide what he wants.”

  “Yes. You took something from him that wasn’t yours to take. Learn this important lesson: you can’t think for other people. Look how it has worked out for you. Look how it worked out for your father.” He hesitated on the last part, his voice thick with sadness.