Chapter 12

Some people think winter isn't the best time of year to be visiting Paris. Sure, the City of Lights is illuminated to such a degree that only on rare occasions one remembers it's a dreary December evening, but the fake happiness must surely be unacceptable, even to tourists.

If you're local, or residing there for the time being, the cold and bleak sky of December is never a treat. Neither are the snow and rain filled streets. Even the Eiffel Tower holds little attraction when a fierce wind blows the rain into your face in spite of your fur-lined hood and the low clouds obscure your panorama from Trocadéro. Yet, as the city may lack the merits of summer, the people and the possibilities may prove to be sufficient substitutes for those who have the time, money and eyes to see. When you're seated in the Restaurant Jules Verne on a quiet and calm evening, with snow covered streets down below and a dark blue sky above, a majestic view on the Pont d'Iéna over the Seine with the Palais de Chaillot on the Rive Droite, you just might feel a sense of being in the right place at the right time. Laura was experiencing that bliss.

.

The waitress approached her table, smiling the same sweet smile she had been giving Laura all evening.
"The chef offers you a glass of this wine, a Sauternes, Château Lafaurie-Peyraguey."

Laura did not want to browse the restaurant for the chef, that would look very silly. She'd relay her answer through this delightful woman. With a fluent motion of her hand, she accepted the offer and begged the waitress to proceed. The woman's skillfulness showed in the speed and ease with which the cork was drawn from the bottle. Laura gently touched the waitress's forearm when she had finished pouring the glass.

"Thank you. Having you serve me has been a pleasure. Will you express my gratitude to the chef?"

A beat of lovable silence before she nodded and then walked away.

After a few seconds, Laura turned her attention back to her table. Looking at the empty plate in front of her, her mind wandered off to a memory from not too long ago.

.

"We've changed, Laura. I mean, you've changed," said Callista as she emptied her glass of wine and put it back on the table perhaps a bit too unbalanced.

She looked at Laura over the table. But Laura kept her face straight. She could see Callista reaching a conclusion after some time. Good. She knew Callista had invited her for this dinner in one of their favorite restaurants with a reason. She wanted to find out what was happening to them. Laura thought Callista probably already knew that, but just hadn't accepted it yet as really happening. Denial. But if Laura wanted things to go as planned, Callista would have to come to the inevitable conclusion herself: their relationship was over. So she kept her face blank and spoke not. So, after an unavoidable span of time, Callista spoke again herself.

"I had hoped this evening would entice you to open up again, Laura. I feel like I'm losing you and I don't know why or what I can do about it. What's going on?"

"There's nothing I can tell you."

"Don't you love me anymore?" asked Callista, with emphasis on every word. Seconds of shameless silence from Laura, more than Callista needed.

"Have you ever loved me, Laura?"

Laura could have told Callista there and then the exact moment she had decided their relationship would have to come to an end, but how could she?

.

As she walked about the house that awful morning, everything was still bright and gay. Yesterday, her Cayman Islands Bank had confirmed the money had been transferred to her account. That night, the party at her godfather's had been very exuberant (and late!). This morning, the sun woke her with its resolute rays.

Laura had left Callista in bed fast asleep, and went to the kitchen for a bit of juice. Sitting at the kitchen table she leafed through yesterday's mail. Not much of interest there. Through the kitchen window she heard some birds quarreling, but she could not see them when she tried to. A beautiful day is what she saw. Nice and calm, which was exactly what she wanted today. Maybe do some shopping this afternoon. She put her glass in the sink and returned to the bedroom.

Callista was up and in the walk-in closet standing on a chair, looking for something. Laura's heart jumped with fright thinking she might find the box. As she raced towards Callista, she fully realized the true meaning of her fright: she would never confide in her.

Laura almost yelled at Callista to get down. Callista turned to face Laura, shocked by the harsh words and angry look on Laura's face.

"What's the matter?"

"There's nothing there that might be of any interest to you, and you know that."

"I was just curious, Laura. No need to be angry."

Looking at Laura, who did not answer, Callista saw the ice. She left Laura's house not much later, after a silent disagreement, leaving Laura at the kitchen table with a good mug of coffee in front of her.

.

Laura remained silent after Callista's question. Had she ever loved her? In love, at least, she had to admit to herself. Any further thoughts now were futile, she knew.

The silence was intolerable and enough for Callista. She understood so she rose and silently left Laura.

Laura took her glass of wine and rewarded herself with a good sip. The breakup had not been as hard as she had anticipated.

.

Laura asked for the bill as soon as she had finished the last sip of the wonderful wine. It was time to go. The appointment was in half an hour. Enough time to walk the short distance. No need for a taxi, even with the snow, with her new Gucci boots.

The waitress approached her table, a small tray in her hand. With a sincere word of thanks for her visit and expressing the hope of another visit, she put the bill on the table and took a step back. Laura told her she'd not use a card, the waitress nodded and fell back to an even more discrete distance.

Laura picked up the bill and smiled as she opened when she saw the telephone number written inside. With a short glance and smile at the waitress, who was eying her nevertheless, she got her purse and paid for the duck and all, including a nice tip. The bill went inside her purse, of course.

Laura rose, the waitress went with her to the door and helped her in her coat.

"We'll meet again," Laura said.

"La vie en Rose," the waitress replied and they both laughed softly. Paris appeared to be fertile ground.

Laura took the elevator down. Heading north-west, she walked off into her new life as graceful as a leopard.

Finis

Without further ado, the acknowledgements:

Duffie83 - you've been very, very helpful. Thank you for proofreading and commenting and getting my writing skills on a higher level.
Lou92 - such a fantasy and imagination; you really should use your talent a better way than merely helping me with it ('A dead doctor'?).
Demeter1973 - I've only asked you a handful of things in advance, but your answers to those questions and your reviews were truly very helpful.

Everybody else for reading and/or reviewing.

There's a plot bunny hidden in the magic hat on my fiction(al) table, I'm sure I'll be able to bring it out someday soon...