Whispered Beginnings
Page 21
An Upsetting Package
Sharon E. Cathcart
April 1910
San Francisco, California
It was a beautiful spring day, but Claire’s eyes were filled with tears. She closed the bedroom door behind herself, hoping that no one had seen her sobbing after she opened the parcel Antoinette Giry had sent her from Paris .
The book her friend sent was filled with lies. Certainly, the author had called it fiction – but it wasn’t. Not really. There were real people to be found in those pages, and the author was telling lies about all of them.
Gilbert picked up the new book his wife had cast aside and called his stepdaughter over. He showed Veronique the title and suggested that she go see Mrs. Kaye next door for some of that good chamomile tea that helped Maman so during the bad times.
Gilbert let himself into the bedroom and made his way to the bed. Even after all of these years, seeing Claire in a melancholic state worried him. He set his walking stick aside and sat down beside Claire, whose entire body was racked with silent sobs.
“How can I help?”
“Oh, Gilbert. That man, that Gaston Leroux. How could he?” Claire spoke in racking gasps as she tried to calm herself. “He said awful things about my friends. About … about …”
Gilbert put his arms around her and held her as the tears subsided. He whispered words of love to her, all the while wishing he possessed her first husband’s gift for calming her with his voice. A song, a story read aloud, a poem recited; the hypnotic power of the man’s voice was undeniable. Yet, that man was long dead and here they were. Perhaps, one day, she would be free from his memory.
Veronique let herself into the room, followed closely by Maeve Kaye and her son, Michael. Maeve took charge of the scene, just as Gilbert had hoped she would.
“Michael, you and Veronique go downstairs and make the tea. Mister Rochambeau, you let me take care of this little French hen of yours. No, no … you stay here. The young folk can bring up the tea things.”
Veronique raised an eyebrow toward her stepfather. She had her own father’s stubborn nature and was unaccustomed to being dismissed. After all, even as a small child she had cared for her mother during times such as this
“Beau-Pere,” she said, “shall I?”
“Indeed. Do as Mrs. Kaye says. Both of you.”
Michael and Veronique went down to the kitchen. The two had been schoolmates since Veronique and her family had moved to San Francisco; they were good friends. Michael even taught Claire how to drive the Stanley Steamer automobile that was her pride and joy. He was quite fond of the entire family, but particularly so where Veronique was concerned.
“What’s the matter with your mother?” He’d wanted to ask the question for many years, but could never bring himself to do it.
“She has fits that she calls madness, and Beau-Pere calls sadness,” Veronique replied. She flipped her long, black braid over her shoulder and out of the way. Her manner, as always, was serious. “It just happens sometimes, but today something set her off.”
“What?”
“A book.”
“Oh, come on, Ronnie.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Fine. But really? A book? What kind of a book?”
Veronique cut her eyes at him over the top of the tea service. “A book about my father.”
Michael poured hot water into the teapot and added the chamomile tea.
“Was your father famous or something, that someone should write a book about him?” He was dying of curiosity. All he knew was that Veronique’s father had died when she was small, and that the man she called Beau-Pere, the artist Gilbert Rochambeau, had married her mother later on.
“Infamous is perhaps a better word, Michael.” Veronique seldom spoke of her father, and it was clear that today would be no different.
Michael picked up the tray and followed Veronique out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. He intended to go all the way into Claire’s bedroom, but the formidable figure of his mother stopped him.
“Oh, no you don’t, Michaeleen. You’ll not go into a lady’s bedchamber; you got past me once today, but it’ll not happen again. Give me the tray.”
With that, Maeve closed the door behind herself, Veronique and Gilbert; Michael was left alone in the hallway. Near the door, on a demi-lune table, was the book that had caused so much upset. He picked it up and sounded out the French title.
“Le fantome de l’opera.”
A Sweet Surprise
Jeremy Dunn
The harsh sounding of the alarm clock jarred her from a pleasant dream and she sank lower in the bed. Thinking about the lists, those endless lists of daily tasks, seemed to sap every ounce of available energy she could muster. She thought, “Does anyone even notice what I do?” She made her way to the shower, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the chorus of hungry voices would assail her.
As she stepped out the shower, she couldn’t help but notice a whiff of maple, a hint of vanilla. Her curiosity peaked; she quickly dressed and made her way downstairs. A trail of powdered sugar led to where a chair was pushed against the cabinet. Bright smiles and sticky fingers thrust a plate toward her. “LOOK WHAT WE DID, MOMMY!” Her husband slipped a cup of coffee in her hand as he whispered, “We love you.”
A feeling of warmth closed around her and a new sense of purpose added a spring to her step. Giggles filled the kitchen as her exaggerated expressions offered a glowing review of their efforts. “Moments like this make it all worthwhile,” she thought as she kissed each syrupy head. “What makes this even better is knowing you are going to clean it up,” she said as she winked at her husband.
A Note From The Editor
Linda Boulanger
Where do I begin? Perhaps by complimenting those who rose to the challenge and submitted their stories to the New/Whisper/Spring prompt offered on the Clever Fiction website. The writers of the stories include seasoned authors, bestsellers even, as well as those who will see their work in print for the first time. The stories within this Whispered Beginnings anthology are, for the most part, unedited. Besides changing a few noticed typos and an occasional grammar or punctuation need, the stories are exactly as each author submitted them. What you read is truly that author’s voice, working within the provided criteria of 200-2000 words, using the prompt words (New ~ Whisper ~ Spring), with the knowledge that the stories were to be centered around an overall theme of Relationships/Romance. The challenge was met splendidly by each participant and I am honored to be a part of this TreasureLine Publishing/Clever Fiction project. May it be only the whisper of great beginnings!
Linda Boulanger
Author and Owner of TreasureLine Books & Publishing
https://www.treasurelinepublishing.com
If you’d like to find out more about any of the Clever Fiction Writers, please visit
https://www.cleverfiction.com/writers
Clicking on the authors’ names on that page will take you to their individual site blog where you will find additional stories as well as potential links to their writers blogs or websites.