fold and refold my napkin, getting more uncomfortable with each passing second. Where is that chocolate? “What does my age have to do with anything?”
“I’m just saying, if you are going to start a family, you aren’t getting any younger.
Besides, you need to settle her down! The two of you fighting over her all the time, it isn’t good, whether all the attention goes straight to her head, or causes her to have a nervous breakdown. Either way, it just isn’t good!”
“She is not going to have a breakdown,” I insist just as the waiter arrives with our dessert, this time not censuring my conversation with Jackie in front of him. “You’re the one who talked me out of trying to force her to marry me. You’re the one who convinced me that a baby and suburbia were not in my and Kitten’s future. Can we just stop this conversation now?”
Jackie tilts her head and I know more grief is coming but she remains silent, lifting her empty aperitif glass signaling she’ll have another as the waiter walks away. “As soon as you face the truth that something needs to change.”
“Everything is going to be fine. You will not convince me to take Thomas out of the picture.”
“We’ll see.” Jackie purses her lips and gives me a look that is all-too knowing before directing her attention to the chocolate-dessert-laden plate, pointing her fork between two choices, before deciding to dig into the cake. She takes a bite and her eyes close in rapture. “Oh my! Oh my!”
“Try this!” she demands and I laugh as she takes another bite. “Oh, oh, oh. Oh my gggoooooddddd!”
The inky black sky is dotted with stars by the time I finally climb out of my car. I park by the hangar and walk the short distance to the jet, which sits midway between hangar and tarmac, readied to fly. The steps are down and I hear Kitten crying before I even step inside the plane. I sigh heavily. Jackie was right about one thing, my life has gotten dramatically more complicated since taking Kitten back into my life and adding Thomas to it.
“What are you doing, Celia?” I ask, walking in behind her. She turns to me, mascara streaked, eyes red, nose puffy, and reaches for me. “We have to bring him back!”
“I’m not going to force him to stay.”
“You don’t care … this is what you’ve wanted all along!” She sobs against me and I pull her tighter. She doesn’t pull away, merely sobs harder. “Why can’t he just be happy with us?”
“Celia?” I pull back from her. “As long as I’ve known Thomas, he comes and he goes. He’ll be back.”
“This is different!” she insists, then her eyes go wide and her bottom lip pouts out.
“Why are you calling me Celia?”
“Because Kitten would be at the Club, watching me onstage right now, or she might be at work finishing things up so that she could at least join me for dinner at the Club, but Kitten would not be shanghaiing my pilot for a trip God knows where without asking my permission first.” I stroke her cheek, sadness filling my heart. “I really don’t think that you want to be Kitten as much as you want to belong to Lord Fyre.”
A tear slides over her cheek. “I do want to be Kitten. I want to belong to both of you.”
“Then start acting like Kitten!”
“I am Kitten!” Her lip quivers. “I had to try to stop him! Can’t you see how much I love him?”
I stand, running my hand through my hair, holding out my opposite hand for her to take. “Let’s talk about this at home.”
“What? No!” she screams. “I have to go! I have to find him! I have to bring him back before he ruins everything!”
I shake my head, “Not tonight, Kitten. We’re going home, and when we get there you are being punished.”
She pulls away, huddling in the corner of her chair, tucked tightly against the windowed wall, holding onto the arms of her chair with a death grip. “No! I’m not going home! I don’t want to go!”
She reminds me of an exhausted
“I’m just saying, if you are going to start a family, you aren’t getting any younger.
Besides, you need to settle her down! The two of you fighting over her all the time, it isn’t good, whether all the attention goes straight to her head, or causes her to have a nervous breakdown. Either way, it just isn’t good!”
“She is not going to have a breakdown,” I insist just as the waiter arrives with our dessert, this time not censuring my conversation with Jackie in front of him. “You’re the one who talked me out of trying to force her to marry me. You’re the one who convinced me that a baby and suburbia were not in my and Kitten’s future. Can we just stop this conversation now?”
Jackie tilts her head and I know more grief is coming but she remains silent, lifting her empty aperitif glass signaling she’ll have another as the waiter walks away. “As soon as you face the truth that something needs to change.”
“Everything is going to be fine. You will not convince me to take Thomas out of the picture.”
“We’ll see.” Jackie purses her lips and gives me a look that is all-too knowing before directing her attention to the chocolate-dessert-laden plate, pointing her fork between two choices, before deciding to dig into the cake. She takes a bite and her eyes close in rapture. “Oh my! Oh my!”
“Try this!” she demands and I laugh as she takes another bite. “Oh, oh, oh. Oh my gggoooooddddd!”
The inky black sky is dotted with stars by the time I finally climb out of my car. I park by the hangar and walk the short distance to the jet, which sits midway between hangar and tarmac, readied to fly. The steps are down and I hear Kitten crying before I even step inside the plane. I sigh heavily. Jackie was right about one thing, my life has gotten dramatically more complicated since taking Kitten back into my life and adding Thomas to it.
“What are you doing, Celia?” I ask, walking in behind her. She turns to me, mascara streaked, eyes red, nose puffy, and reaches for me. “We have to bring him back!”
“I’m not going to force him to stay.”
“You don’t care … this is what you’ve wanted all along!” She sobs against me and I pull her tighter. She doesn’t pull away, merely sobs harder. “Why can’t he just be happy with us?”
“Celia?” I pull back from her. “As long as I’ve known Thomas, he comes and he goes. He’ll be back.”
“This is different!” she insists, then her eyes go wide and her bottom lip pouts out.
“Why are you calling me Celia?”
“Because Kitten would be at the Club, watching me onstage right now, or she might be at work finishing things up so that she could at least join me for dinner at the Club, but Kitten would not be shanghaiing my pilot for a trip God knows where without asking my permission first.” I stroke her cheek, sadness filling my heart. “I really don’t think that you want to be Kitten as much as you want to belong to Lord Fyre.”
A tear slides over her cheek. “I do want to be Kitten. I want to belong to both of you.”
“Then start acting like Kitten!”
“I am Kitten!” Her lip quivers. “I had to try to stop him! Can’t you see how much I love him?”
I stand, running my hand through my hair, holding out my opposite hand for her to take. “Let’s talk about this at home.”
“What? No!” she screams. “I have to go! I have to find him! I have to bring him back before he ruins everything!”
I shake my head, “Not tonight, Kitten. We’re going home, and when we get there you are being punished.”
She pulls away, huddling in the corner of her chair, tucked tightly against the windowed wall, holding onto the arms of her chair with a death grip. “No! I’m not going home! I don’t want to go!”
She reminds me of an exhausted
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