Flashback continues 1996- early 1998
Naturally, JC was true to his word. Two days following the dinner at Pepe’s, a letter arrived. It was addressed to Annie in JC’s scrawling hand, so she immediately tore open the envelope. The letter stated that the guys were in Stockholm and were soon headed towards Germany. After the travel plans, dozens of questions littered the page. After reading them all, she shook her head and smiled, then started to work on her reply.
Dear Josh,
I received your letter today. Although it sounds more like a job application, I will try to answer the questions as best I can. To avoid confusion, I’ll put titles before each answer.
Birthday: 17 July 1975 (which makes me 21)
Birthplace: Nashville, Tennessee
Parents: William John and Marie Christina O’Reilly.
How they met and what they do: Daddy is an engine builder for NASCAR (more specifically, Darrell Waltrip’s team). Mom is a writer and illustrator of children’s books. They first met at a college dance. To make a long story short at the risk of making it cliched, it was love at first sight. However, seeing how Mom is Cuban and Daddy is Irish, it took a while longer for the families to accept it. Eventually love won out and they got married after which they moved to Tennessee where they’re still living today.
Brothers & sisters: I have none. I’m a spoiled rotten only child. Only kidding??
School: I went to public school for awhile, but it was hard with Daddy on the road so often and such. Eventually they just started home-schooling me instead, so I managed to finish in record time. I then went to the University of Tennessee, where I got a scholarship my senior year to study in Paris. The school extended it to cover the first year of my Master’s degree, but eventually funds ran out and, naturally, I had to get a job. It covers my tuition and books, so there’s no worry about that. Currently, I’m working on getting a Master’s in Fine Arts. I have always loved to paint and have been told that I have the unique ability to capture the inner person. That I can see someone as they really are (not "twilight zone" kind of see, more like insight.) But lately, I’ve been drawn to sculpting. I’m not exactly sure why, so I’m taking a few classes, to see where it leads.
Pets: I had a dog while growing up. He was a Sheltie named "Champ" and was my constant companion all throughout my childhood until I graduated from high school. Then he got really sick and we had to take him to the vet to be put down. I remember the look he gave me as he fell asleep. It seemed like he was saying "Thank you." I loved him dearly. At my flat here in Paris, I have a black cat named "Rosemarie". She got her name because when I brought her home, the Simon and Garfunkel song "Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme" was playing on the radio.
Languages: Ahh, not looking forward to any more surprises? Just kidding I speak five – English (obviously), French (also obviously), German, Italian and Spanish.
Claude and Jacques: Jacques and I were in a class together. He brought me home to have dinner one night. Which was where I met Claude. I started going once a week and now have dinner or some other meal there at least once a day. I also try and help Claude out in the shop when Jacques has classes.
God: I believe strongly that there is one and have committed myself to Him.
The letter continued on in a similar manner for nearly 12 pages. Finally, she realized that she’d better stop, or at least get a publishing deal for her autobiography before it was too late.
JC, it is going to cost me a fortune to mail this "novel" to you. I anxiously await your next letter.
Love,
Annie
Whenever he had a day off, and was close to Paris, JC would come to visit. Of course, this wasn’t very often, so they treasured the time they got to spend together.
One rainy afternoon JC showed up at her door with flowers and a poem he had written. Just as he went to knock on her door, he felt as if someone was staring at him from behind. He turned to see a young woman standing at the flat door near Annie’s.
She was what could safely considered the French version of a true Goth. Her black hair was very, very long and shiny, with streaks of blue dye here and there. She was dressed entirely in black, her skirt flowing to the floor and swirling around her feet like a dark cloud. Her dark eyes seemed almost sinister with all the mascara and eye shadow she wore on them, matching her black lipstick but contrasting harshly with her pale skin. A silver ankh hung from a chain around her neck, the only accessories she wore.
She eyed him as she took a puff from a clove cigarette, lightly playing with a piece of her hair. "You, Annie’s lover?"
JC was positive he’d heard her wrong. "Excuse me?"
She smiled in a truly ghastly manner. I’ll slow it down for you. "I said are….. you….. Annie’s….. lover?"
Okay, so he’d been right. "No, just a friend."
This seemed to cheer the Goth up, if such a thing is possible. "So, you’re free?"
JC felt like he was missing something very important. "No, I’m Annie’s friend."
Luckily for JC, Annie chose that particular moment to open her door.
He turned to her, a smile of relief spreading across his face. "Thank you, I’m saved."
She gave him a confused look that strangely conveyed exactly what JC was feeling at that particular moment. "What’s going on here?"
An embarrassed look came over his face. "She keeps asking me if I am your lover?" He whispered.
Annie rolled her eyes, letting out a half –exasperated, half-pitiful sigh, then turned to the woman. "Babette, I would like to introduce to you my dear FRIEND Josh. Josh – Babette."
JC extended his hand and shook hers, trying to avoid getting stabbed with her long fingernails without appearing to do so. This close to her, he could smell not only the cigarette, but also the excessive smell of incense. After what he felt was a polite period of time to shake, JC tried to retrieve his hand. Babette refused to let go and the harder he tried to pull away, the tighter her grip became.
Finally, Annie intervened and pried the two of them apart. Still holding the Goth’s hand by the back, she looked her in the eye. "Babette, I think it is time for us to go. Maybe we can visit another day?"
Babette ripped her hand away, staring at Annie coldly, then slowly backed into her flat before slamming the door shut in a final statement to the world.
Annie sighed, then led JC inside her own flat. Once the door was safely closed behind them he turned to her. "Who and what was that?"
"That was Babette. She’s fairly harmless. She’s more of a danger to herself than others. " Annie sighed. "She was involved in a very BAD relationship. He was physically and emotionally abusive to her, which is when she started wearing all the black clothes and make-up; to hide the bruises. About 6 months ago, they had a huge fight and the police were called in. When they took him away to prison, I guess something inside of her just snapped. From what I understand, she used to be a very talented artist herself at one point. Now all she does is spend most of her days in her flat – painting pictures that no one ever sees and crying. I think she still has some hope though, since she flirts with Jacques every time he shows up."
JC shook his head. "That’s so tragic."
"I know – but in many ways it’s just another romantic Paris tragedy. I live in the "perfect Paris loft" complete with a crazy woman down the hall. She glanced at him, suddenly ashamed. Sorry. I don’t mean to make light of it, but sometimes, after you’ve seen the same thing so often, you just kind of grow numb to it. Lately, she has been a bit more delusional. I may have to report her, for her own good." Annie shook herself from the line of unpleasant thoughts, then smiled at him warmly. "So, how have you been?"
"Good" A devilish little grin spread across his face.
"I’ll even show you." He stepped forward and pulled her close, then dipped her a little bit and kissed her. After letting her up, he handed the flowers to her. "These are for you."
She took them from him. "They’re lovely. Let me put them in water."
While Annie was hunting for a vase, JC finally had time to take a look at her flat. The front door opened into her living room, the majority of which was on his left. Annie had gone towards the right, which was where the kitchen was. The walls throughout the entire flat were white, with a beige floor runner going all along the edges. The carpet was also beige and spread in every room except the kitchen and bathroom, both of which had beige and white patterned tiles. He realized that the color scheme, while maybe a little on the boring side, did make the room feel light and airy, a good atmosphere for an artist. Her furniture was an eclectic mix of European styles, obviously whatever she had been able to find. Not everything matched perfectly (some things didn’t match at all) but it was still pretty to look at.
But the walls. JC found himself amazed and completely engrossed by the walls. Obviously, several artists had lived there before, because there were paintings and drawings all over the walls. Fortunately, whoever had moved in after the first one had decided to keep up some sort of order, because each room seemed to have a theme. The living room had various types of animals scattered around, while the kitchen (where Annie was still searching in vain for a vase) had multiple scenarios. The hallway, the door of which was at the wall opposite the front door, was filled with doodles and sketches.
JC passed by the first door on his right, which was closed. He’d get it on his way back. Poking his head into the bathroom, first door on the left, he was not disappointed to see a variety of water paintings. The second (and last) door on the left was Annie’s bedroom. It surprised him, because the walls had a menagerie of abstract works scattered so close together, it was sometimes hard to see where one stopped and the next began. He was about to enter, but then thought of what it would look like if Annie found him there. Not only, would it be a little rude, it would also be seriously embarrassing. Going back towards the living room, JC poked his head into he room he’d previously passed up. What he saw in there so captivated him that he found himself being pulled inside to see more.
This was quite obviously Annie’s art room. It was bigger than her bedroom and seemed to stand out more than any other room in her flat. It wasn’t due to the walls. The ones in here were completely blank, absolutely nothing on them whatsoever. A huge loft window with a rounded top faced the street, pouring natural light into the room. It had its own window seat, upon which a little black cat was currently lying, staring down at the cars below. But this wasn’t' what had captured his attention so completely.
That honor belonged to her paintings. Every single one he could see was of him. They were done in multiple styles and some of them looked a little creepy, but there was no doubt as to the identity of the man in each one, it was him. He must have been standing there in dumbfounded amazement for a while, because he didn’t even notice Annie until she was right next to him.
She smiled at him. "So what do you think?’
"I’m speechless, he managed to say. What is all this?"
"I was experimenting with a new type of paint and, since you are a subject I love to use, l did."
JC studied a Picasso rendition of his face. "Do I really look like this?"
Annie giggled. "Well you know, you do have a classic face in the Greek sense, but your nose is a little too big for your face."
He stuck his tongue out at her. "Thanks a lot, I’m crushed."
She put a hand under her chin as she stared at him in thought. "You know, I was thinking if you let your hair grow a bit longer-"
"It curls."
"It would soften your features. And who knows; maybe you still have time to grow into your face."
"Okay, enough already"! JC shook his head. "I didn’t come here to have my face critiqued."
"Alright then." Annie folded her arms over her chest. "What did you come here for?"
He grinned wickedly as he walked over to her. "This." And he kissed her again.
When the kiss ended, Annie smiled. "Nice appetizer. How about lunch?"
"Sounds like a plan to me."
They walked into the living room where Annie had a tablecloth spread out on the floor. They had been planning to go on a picnic so naturally it was pouring – typical Paris weather. Not to be discouraged, they sat down and ate the lunch safely inside. Afterwards, JC read her the poem he’d written and brought with him. It made her cry.
Later on, JC was lying with his head on Annie’s lap as she was feeding him grapes. He reached up and drew her down to him, kissing her gently at first, but then with more passion. His hand, almost of its own accord, went straight to her blouse and began undoing the buttons.
Annie grabbed that hand right where it was. "Hold it right there." She straightened up, letting go of his hand. "We made a promise, remember?"
JC gave her a hurt look. "I know, but I just want to look. He gave her his best puppy-dog look. "I promise I won’t touch."
"No way, although you get kudos for the big eyes. It’s not really you, but myself I don’t trust. And you know how much I hate it when people break promises."
"Yeah" he muttered dejectedly, playing with the tablecloth.
"I know it seems silly but I made a vow that I wouldn’t have sex till I was married. Most people probably think I’m insane, or at least horribly old-fashioned, but it’s a gift I’m going to give to the person I love. I can only give it once, and I don’t want to make a mistake." She laughed a little to take some of the sting out of her words. "Besides, I’m pretty sure something like virginity has a no-return policy."
JC looked up from the floor and smiled back. "I’m sorry. I agree with you it‘s just that sometimes I get carried away." His smile grew a little wider. "Imagine how much people would love it if they knew I made that same vow and for the same reason."
Annie messed up his hair a little. "You’re so sweet. Now let’s think of something more productive to do." She seemed lost in thought for a brief moment, and then her eyes lit up. "I know, we can listen to the music Claude sent over."
She lithely jumped to her feet and got the CD from the kitchen where she’d placed it on the table. Coming back, she popped it into the stereo,
As she was getting ready, she turned to him. "This is music that Claude and Marie liked to listen and dance to. Jacques had a friend burn the CD for him."
She went over and took his hands, pulling him to his feet. "Now, here’s what I want you to do." She led him over to the couch, which was by the stereo. "I want you to sit on the sofa and close your eyes. You can’t open them until the song is over, but I want you to just sit still and listen. Be warned in advance, it’s an Italian aria."
"But I won’t understand it!" JC protested, even as he sat there with his eyes closed.
"Yes you will. Just listen to the words, phrasing and the emotion with which the singer is singing. You’ll get it."
Annie started the music, then sat cross-legged next to him. She studied his face and saw that indeed, he did understand. He knew – even if he didn’t fully understand. When it was over, she leaned close to him. "I’m going to play it again." She spoke quietly. But this time, I’ll whisper the translation in your ear."
As the song played a second time and she interpreted, she also kept studying JC’s face. A look of amazement came over his face. When the song was over again, he opened his eyes and looked at her. "You were right. I could understand."
"I know." She touched his face. "You have an artist’s soul."
They were both quiet for a while, then JC cleared his throat. "Annie?"
"Yes?"
"We’re leaving for a Far East and African tour in a week or so. I won’t be able to see you for a long time." He looked deep into her eyes. "I’m going to miss you so much."
Annie shook her head and rubbed the back of his neck. "We both knew this day would come. If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out alright. I’m just so happy that things are finally starting to click for you." She smiled and put a finger to his lips. "And before you even say it, I think the idea of you giving it up to stay here with me is stupid. I know I couldn’t live a life full of "what ifs" or should haves." She studied his face. "I don’t think you could either."
JC stared at her in amazement. "How did you get to be so wise?"
Annie grinned. "That would be Claude’s doing."
They spent the rest of the day wrapped in each other’s arms, listening to the music. When it was time to go, she walked him to the door. As they kissed in the hallway, JC promised that he’d be back next week for a final, but by no means permanent, goodbye. Then he leaned over and whispered that when they made love for the first time, it would be to that CD.
As they finished their good-byes, neither one saw Babette listening from her cracked-open flat door. Nor the shadowy figure behind her, watching the scene with a clenched fist and tears streaming to the floor.
