Trouble finding Blondie (9 page)

He was coming down the stairs, dressed in jeans and a black shirt, smiling. He looked amazing and got everybody’s attention in the room. Simona took him around and proudly introduced him to everyone. Andre was surprised about the average age of this group. After Simona’s description, he was expecting a much older crowd. They were all in their thirties and forties.

Simona excused herself and went to put the baby down. Andre seemed very comfortable with the group. He noticed the language spoken around the room was French, not English. It was Philippe’s rule that everyone speak English around the table, so no foreign guest would ever feel uncomfortable. Well, he wasn’t here yet, so everyone was tuned to French.

She was half way through when Andre walked in and laid down behind her. Francois noticed, lifted his head up and smiled, then looked for the boob in panic. They both started to laugh.

“Wow, it seems like a great group of people. It’s going to be a great evening.”

“Watch out, they can be a tough crowd, too.” There it was again, the peculiar smile Simona mastered.

“Listen, I walked into the bedroom next door…”

“Oh, Lord, you didn’t shower there, did you?”

“Almost. But I noticed fruit, robes, flowers, fresh soaps, champagne… Is this set up in every room?”

“No, every guest has a specific set up, to their liking. Some drink scotch, some wine, some like olives, some only need chocolate covered strawberries and champagne. I told you, Philippe is the best host and pays attention to details.”

“You lived here. Hmm, you taught him that.”

“No. Are you crazy?” She was laughing, putting Francois down.

He was happily fed, pleasantly tired, smiling at his parents. He was holding one of their fingers in his tiny fists.

“Blondie, what is Francois’ last name?”

“Andree,” she said it with a different tone.

“Andre? No, not his middle name. His last name.”

“Andree,” she took her finger out of Francois’s fist, kissed him, and walked away from the crib. Andre did the same, and they both walked out of the room.

“We are getting lost in translation, I think.”

“No, we are not. His name is Francois Andre Andree.” She didn’t elaborate any further, and he was getting confused and frustrated.

“Could you please stop? Could you explain this to me? I think I’m blond.”

“You really didn’t pick a good time. Can we have this discussion after dinner, please?”

Andre was lost, confused. It all didn’t make much sense, and now he wasn’t going to be able to concentrate and enjoy the evening.

5

"WHEN YOU KNOW BETTER, YOU DO BETTER."

EVERYBODY WAS IN a good mood, pleasantly sipping on their drinks. The fireplace was on, but more for the ambiance than heat. Jacques came from behind, lifted Simona up, and as expected, she screamed. Everybody knew that about her and always got a kick out of it, how easily she gets startled. Her scream frightened a server who dropped a glass, and everybody started laughing.

“I will kill you! You are never going to grow up.” She was pretending to be mad, but couldn’t hold it for long, started to laugh and gave him a big hug.

“So the guy with the fastest car and a title to prove it comes last to the party? Classic.”

“It’s all about the entrance, my love. Where is this man of yours? I found out yesterday, and I have been heartbroken ever since.” He was making sad faces, and Simona was laughing more and more.

Andre was smiling, talking, but his mind was somewhere else...

What a day! First I get killed by a number, and then I’m told my son’s name is Andree! What else is going to happen tonight? How much more can I take? Is this my 4th glass of champagne? I should have some food...

Everybody finally sat down at the table. The host was still not there, but Madame Bonnet was told that she should go ahead with the dinner. He was going to arrive shortly.

Simona was checking on Andre’s mood. He was talking to Jacques, smiling.

Then the door opened, and Philippe walked in. Simona jumped out of her seat, rushing to the door. She had not seen him since before she left for Maui. He was as exited as she was. He opened his arms, she kissed him on his mouth, and he lifted her up. They forgot about the people in the room, fully present in each other’s energy and engaged in that moment. It wasn’t an unusual scene for the group, but it was slightly different with Andre in the room. Everybody was curious about how he was going to react.
 

They were both laughing, talking over each other in French and English, until they realized that the whole room was silent, staring at them.

Philippe didn’t panic at all.

“Nice. So nobody waits for the host anymore? You started without me? All of you, get the hell out of my house!”

That took the edge off, and everybody started to laugh. People started to talk, and the room became noisy again.

Except for Andre. He was staring at Philippe who still held his arm around Simona’s waist. Jacques was standing next to him, feeling his adrenaline barometer rising. He took the champagne glass out of his hand and tried to get his focus away.

“Listen, let’s have a real drink outside. Something different than this Goddamn champagne.”

Andre didn’t hear a word. He couldn’t get his eyes off the ‘couple’.

Simona’s face was lit up, talking excitedly to Philippe who was giving her hugs.

“Ok, that’s it! I think it’s time to elaborate on your statement, Mr. Bouchard.”

The room fell silent, and all eyes were on Andre.

“Could you refresh my memory, please? What statement are you referring to?” Philippe was in his element, clearly enjoying it. Simona knew him well and pinched him on his waist. He looked at her and smiled, as if to say ‘com’on let me have some fun.’ She gave him a look back…’you are terrible, stop torturing him.”

“What kind of a relationship is INTIMATE??!!! Look, I know I’m a guest at your house, but the woman on your arm is mine. And she is the woman I love. We are on even ground now, you wanted to have a fair fight. Well, here it is. What the hell does ‘intimate relationship’ mean, and what are your intentions?”

Philippe didn’t let go of Simona. Simona tried to pull away to defuse the situation, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Well, Andre… I love this woman, and this is the most intimate relationship I ever had.”

“Philippe!” Simona was rolling her eyes. This was becoming a real drama.

“What? It’s true,” Philippe was protesting with an innocent expression.

“Well, Philippe, it’s too bad, but I’m not going anywhere and I really don’t care. Until she tells me she doesn’t love me anymore, I’m not giving up.”

“Wow, and you said this man didn’t fight for you? Hmmm, he seems to be fighting now.”

“There is a baby up there. He is mine. And I sure as hell am not letting anybody take him away.”

“Yes, he is yours. I’m sure Simona wouldn’t ever deny you any visitation rights.”

What did this asshole just say? Visitation rights? Is he out of his mind? I’m not having visitations with my son! I don’t want to be apart from him for a day of his life!
 

“Speaking of my son… You seem to know it all. Who the hell is Andree?”

Now Philippe was lost in translation. Was it a trick question?
 

He is Andre! What other Andre is he talking about?
 

Philippe looked confused.

“Who’s last name does my son have? Because I don’t need to get a DNA test done to know that THAT sleeping baby up there is mine. Well, who is going to tell me? Who’s name does my child carry, and why?”
 

Andre was raising his voice which was very much out of his character. Philippe looked at Simona and started to laugh out loud.

“And I’m the evil one? You are unbelievable! You have tortured this poor man enough. Give it up, tiger!”

Simona got defensive and pulled away from Philippe.

“Evil? He left me hanging. Poor and pregnant. I made it. Made the best out of it, and didn’t even stay bitter. I forgave him. What more do you want? Spill two years of my life in three days?”

“Alright, easy. I’m just saying that is a significant detail you left out. It didn’t come up yet?” Philippe was trying to calm Simona down.

“What are you two talking about? Would somebody just please answer my question?”

The room was amused, entertained, but also stretched to maximum pressure.

“Somebody put this poor man out of his misery already,” said Manon, the doctor.

“It’s my last name,” Simona spoke with a soft voice.

“What? You got married again?” Andre was about to faint. It was too much.

It was so raw and so honest that it made her laugh. The rest of the room laughed, too. Finally the energy lightened up.

“No, silly, I changed my name. My name is Simona Thea Andree.”

Andre couldn’t process any more. His brain was shutting down. He was confused. The writer lady, Noemi, took over.

“Have you heard of the novelist, Thea Andree?”

“The controversial story, the woman that doesn’t give interviews?”

“Very good. That’s the one.”

Is this lady suggesting that Simona is Thea Andree? Or am I stupid? Is it the champagne? Or is it this Goddamn day? I have lost my mind. What the hell is going on? Am I the moron here?? Or is this a conspiracy that they are all trying to pull on me?

“Let me just make sure I’m understanding this correctly. You are the writer who wrote three books in one year and got famous for it?”

“Of course not. I had been writing them for years. They just got published last year and this year.”

“Are you saying you are rich?”

Simona smiled and looked at Philippe.

“He made me rich…”

“And she made me richer,” Everybody was laughing finally.

Madame Bonnet suddenly had an opening. She walked in to greet the man of the house, asking permission to serve dinner. Everybody took their seat.

Philippe wasn’t finished as usual.

“That was a lovely welcome. I have to declare, Andre, this was the most exciting start to an evening we ever had. Congratulations, you earned it. It will always be yours. Cheers, everyone.”

The food was delicious, and the mood was great. Peace after a storm. Andre was mentally exhausted, but he couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome.

“One day, you are going to give me a heart attack, Blondie. That’s for sure.”

She smiled, but her mind was somewhere else.

“Listen, so if you are rich, why do you still have that silly job at the hotel?” Jacques was talking with his mouth full. Simona wanted to slap him.

“The silly job that doesn’t even pay for her babysitting.” Simona gave Philippe stink eye, mouthing to him ‘Seriously?’.

He shot right back. ‘You know this is a tough crowd. Com’on, you can hold your own.’

“How much do you make? And how much do you pay her?” Typical Maurice. Never turns the money market off.

“Number one, I love my silly job. Number two, it’s none of your business how much I pay for my child. But if you must know, I pay Reni four thousand Euros. Number three, she is not a babysitter. She is his Aunty and loves him like her own.”

“Have you lost your mind? People with University degrees don’t make that much.”
 

“I appreciate your input, Pascal, but for your information, she has three University degrees. Even a PhD from your Sorbonne.”

“Seriously, can I be your nanny? I don’t have a PhD, but I will throw in some music lessons.” Hervé was laughing, but he was the first one to understand why she would do something like that. He treated his music like his children. He would protect his composed pieces with his life and everything he had.
 

“Come on, Olivier. You have nothing to add?” Philippe was instigating again.

“I think you are all asking the wrong questions. The question is, why do you pay her that much, Simona?”

“Thank you, Oli. Because she doesn’t do it for the money. And she gave up everything for a while to be there for me and Francois. I want her to have a comfortable life. I would never be able to have a babysitter or nanny for ten euros an hour. I don’t want those kind. No offense. But my child doesn’t speak yet, he can’t tell me what they did with him, so I have to have complete trust and faith in that person. For that kind of peace of mind, I’ll give my paycheck and then some.”

Philippe looked satisfied. Everybody was more or less settled, except Manon. It was time for her jabs, “So, why don’t you just stay home yourself and spend all the time with him? Clearly, you don’t need the paycheck.”

Manon was a doctor, didn’t have children, not sure if she could, but certainly had a strong opinion about this subject. Everybody sensed that this was getting personal and borderline. Andre started to feel overprotective, touching Simona’s hand under the table.
 

This is really a tough crowd. I’m going to have to say something soon…