EJAX-472: Ch. 10

"Ah, yes, so you should. She is a gorgeous woman."

I learned that the other two women's names were Felicia and Rosaria. Although I could not converse directly with either one of them, Julia happily acted as an interpreter, and it was soon revealed to me that these women were not only beautiful, but highly intelligent and savvy business people. If Forbes magazine had ever decided to do a swimsuit edition, these three would have certainly made the front cover.

Stephan and I shared a quick drink together before Bonnie came by and stole me away from him, demanding that there were other people for me to meet.

"You'll have plenty of time to be with him later," she said. "He's planning on staying for a few weeks."

"I know. He told me," I said, reluctantly letting go of his hand.

As we walked from room to room I noticed very quickly that there were far more women than men. In fact, I did not notice any other males outside of Philip, Stephan, Craig, and Barney. Carlo, and the other two male servants, did not count, as they were there to serve, not to participate. Most of these women were friends and business acquaintances of Bonnie's, some of whom I knew. When I asked her why there weren't any more men, she winked at me and said that it was "girls night out," and left it at that.

During the course of the next hour, she had introduced me to roughly a little over one hundred women, varying in ages from eighteen to seventy, and representing a motley assortment of ethnicities. One woman, however, made an indelible impression upon me. Her name was Phoebe Anjou, a beautiful, blonde American businesswoman who had married a French duke and who now made her home in a castle on the outskirts of Paris. Beyond the fact that she was beautiful, she possessed a very keen mind and a commanding presence; being dressed in a white sheet serving to heighten her allure rather than detract from it. Her daughter, Angelique, was a spin-off of her mother, and every bit as forthright, if not more so. At eighteen, she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Don't be taken in by that nobility crap," the girl told me, making sure her mother was out of earshot. "My mom's family is originally from Los Angeles. You know, typical upper middle class."

"She seems to have done very well for herself," I said.

"My dad's a real duke. She met him in Paris and that's where they fell in love. Pretty romantic huh?"

"I would say so."

She looked at me for a moment, pondering what to say.

"You know, maybe you could come visit us sometime. My mom's always throwing parties and stuff. She's a pretty important person you know."

"I'm sure she is," I replied. "I'll think about it. Thanks for the invitation."

I actually got to talk to Phoebe, as she insisted I call her, not long afterward. I found her unassuming and a pleasant conversationalist, although there were times I could have pictured her in a latex suit brandishing a whip.

"Yes, my daughter is very much like me," she began, laughing. "The two of us like to control things—our businesses, our relationships...our men. But then again, I hear you do too."

I was a bit put off by her insinuation.

"I've been called a control freak by some," I admitted, reluctantly. "But that pertains to my work."

"You must be very proud of your achievements," she said.

"You know about my experiments?"

"Only from what Bonnie and Philip have told me," she replied. "Do you enjoy being in control?"

"In my professional life I have no choice," I answered. "But in my personal affairs, yes, I suppose I do. But sometimes it's nice to let others take the reins."

I could feel that she was testing the waters with me, as if trying to find some common ground upon which she could forge some kind of connection. The issue of control seemed to be of special concern to her.

"I don't know if Angelique told you," she began, "but I am quite involved in civic affairs back in my own country. My husband is an extremely powerful man and through him I have become involved in many philanthropic activities promoting social welfare. There is a society of women, mostly made up of people such as yourself—doctors, lawyers, social workers, celebrities, and many other people from various disciplines—who get together several times a year at my chateau to talk business and to enjoy themselves. I think you would find it most interesting."

"Your daughter did mention something about it. What exactly takes place at these meetings?"

"I would not call them 'meetings' as such," she answered. "They are more like social engagements, a fraternity of like-minded individuals who share common interests."

"I see. Has my sister ever attended one of your 'engagements'?"

"No, unfortunately. But I think you would enjoy it. We are having our next get together around the middle of September. If you would like to attend, let Bonnie know and I will forward all the information to her."

She took a sip of her drink and smiled.

I felt that behind her seemingly innocent invitation there was more, much more, she wasn't telling me. I searched her face for any sign of a clue, but she simply stared back at me, smiling complacently.

"Is there any particular reason you want me to come?" I asked bluntly.

"As I told you," she said evasively. "I think you would enjoy it."

I questioned Bonnie about Phoebe's invitation, but there was little she could tell me, having never been a part of the woman's secretive-sounding club. She did say, however, that Phoebe was well respected and much loved in her own country, having been behind the funding of many useful social services for the young and underprivileged. Intrigued as I was, I decided to learn more about this seemingly enigmatic and fascinating woman before making any commitment to attend her little 'get together'.

I spent the next few hours socializing with friends and guests, Stephan close by my side. Philip and Bonnie were the perfect hosts, making certain that my belated celebration wanted for nothing. The dinner they had prepared was a sumptuous repast, with a choice of several entrees and carefully chosen wines from their local vineyard. Everyone, it seemed, was having a splendid time.

When dinner was over, Bonnie ordered her servants to bring out my birthday cake. After enduring a mostly off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday," I was then allowed to open my gifts as we sat and had our dessert and espresso. I received many lovely and rather expensive gifts, but the one that made me most happy was the one bestowed upon me by Stephan. It was an architectural drawing—and artist's conception of my new Clinic, whose construction was now fully underway. His law firm had handled the negotiations for the project and, through his persistent efforts, succeeded in getting work on the structure begun months earlier than originally scheduled.

"I don't know what to say," I said to Stephan, as my eyes filled with tears.

He looked at me and smiled lovingly.

Rebecca, who was sitting to my immediate right, suddenly got up and took the picture from me and began passing it around.

"Here everybody, have a look," she said.

She then took my hand and offered me a napkin to wipe my eyes.

"What my dear friend means to say is that she thinks all of us are simply wonderful and she thanks everyone from the bottom of her heart. Right sweetie?"

"Right sweetie," I replied between sobs.

"A toast!" Bonnie said, raising her glass, to which everyone else joined in. "To my little sister. The most beautiful woman I know."

"Here's to you beautiful!" Stephan added.

After all the remnants of dinner had been removed, Bonnie made an announcement.

"Okay," she began, "the servants have been discharged for the night and the fun is now about to begin. Let's move this whole thing out onto the veranda everybody. It's time to party!"

Everybody made a mass exodus for the doors that led out onto the tiled portico, which was now festooned with all sorts of birthday favors and decorations. Rows of colored floodlights provided an intense but harsh illumination as the sound of disco music came blaring through the loud speakers. Dozens of tables and chairs had been set up on the borders of the dance area making the whole portico look like a nightclub. In a matter of seconds the entire group of celebrants poured out onto the veranda and began dancing to the music.

"Aren't you going to dance?" asked Angelique, who had appeared suddenly from behind the colonnade.

"I'm not much of a dancer," I said.

"But it's your birthday," she replied, taking my hand in hers. "Come on Christiana. Don't be shy."

She began to pull me toward the dance floor, but I gently pulled my hand away.

"Maybe later," I said, a bit unnerved by the girl's boldness.

"Okay," she said, seemingly unconcerned.

I watched her as she ran into the crowd, disappearing into the mass of gyrating bodies.

"She's a lot like her mother. Always has to have things her way."

Philip took a sip of wine and looked out over the sea of bobbing heads. He seemed quite inebriated.

"Better sit down or you'll fall down," I advised him.

"Don't worry about me dear sister-in-law," he replied, briefly losing his footing. "I have to leave you now. I have to get ready for my big entrance."

"What are you talking about?"

"Can't tell you that. Oh no. Bonnie would have my head."

"Another one of her extravaganzas?" I said with some misgivings.

"What did you expect? It's your birthday!"

He turned to leave.

"Philip, what do you know about Phoebe Anjou?"

He chuckled at the mention of her name.

"Let's put it this way," he said. "She uses men like she uses toilet paper. Does that tell you enough?"

He didn't wait for me to reply as I watched him stumble back into the house. I wondered under what set of circumstances he had been led to that conclusion. From what Bonnie had told me, she was a kind, though controlling, benefactress. But his perception of her was a distinctly negative one. I could only surmise that the truth lay somewhere between the two extremes.

From behind me I heard the sound of laughter. I turned around to find Maria, Michelle, Cheryl, Lynette, and Rebecca headed toward the dance floor.

"Better watch out, Chris," Michelle said. "Bonnie's got something planned for you."

"There's nothing she can do that would surprise me."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that!" Lynette replied.

All of them laughed.

"Have any of you seen Stephan?" I asked.

"He's with Craig and the rest of the guys," Cheryl replied.

"Well, what are they doing?"

"Getting ready for the show, what else?" Maria answered.

"What show?" I asked as they sauntered off onto the dance floor.

Rebecca answered me by waving one of her special tubes of lipstick in the air.

"Gonna be a whole lot of shakin' goin' on tonight, Chris!" she said, laughing.

They were all drunk and I had barely consumed a half glass of wine. I suddenly felt like a stranger at my own party.

I went back into the house to find Bonnie talking excitedly with Sheila and Jennifer.

"She's going to love it. Trust me," she said to the two women.

"What am I going to love?" I asked her.

"Hey!" she said. "You're not supposed to be here. Now get out there and start having some fun."

"Oh, please Bonnie. You don't have to do this."

"Do what? Did Philip open his big mouth?"

"He doesn't have to say anything. I know you."

Sheila looked at me and frowned. "And you were doing so well up to now," she said, with a disappointed look.

"It's not that I don't appreciate it," I said. "It's just that I kind of wanted to spend some time with Stephan...alone."

"You're going to have a chance to see plenty of him right now," Jennifer said coyly.

"I don't like the sound of that." I turned to Bonnie. "We're not going to celebrate with another three-ring circus now are we?"

"Look, sis," Bonnie said. "He's the one who volunteered to do this so please don't give me a hard time. You're going to spend two whole weeks with the man, so what the hell are you complaining about?"

"Okay, fine," I said. "But there better not be a midget or a cannon in sight."

As I left I heard Bonnie say, "I love her but sometimes she can be so...I don't know...prissy!"

Okay, so maybe I was a little 'prissy,' as she said. Maybe if I had more of a penchant for alcohol, like most of them did, I would be less prissy. The truth of the matter was that I really didn't want to be a part of another one of Bonnie's mega productions. Her birthday party had been eventful enough, and somewhere in the back of my mind I had harbored thoughts that this celebration may conceal unpleasant experiences that, like hers, were just waiting for the right moment to be revealed. I was especially concerned with how Stephan would react to my sister's tendencies toward lasciviousness. He was, after all, quite modest, and I feared that she might have talked him into doing something he would have preferred not to do, but did anyway to please me.

I sat outside on the veranda watching the people dance but not feeling inclined to do so myself. My friends came over to me at intervals, trying to persuade me to join them on the dance floor, but I declined them every time. At last, after a whole half hour had passed, Rebecca came over and sat down next to me. I could tell she was concerned as well as annoyed.

"Here you are, sitting by yourself with that sad look on your face, and everyone thinks you're having a miserable time, including me," she said firmly. "Now what the hell is troubling you Chris? This is your birthday party for Christ's sake!"

"I'm sorry Rebecca," I replied. "I know you don't think I'm happy, but I am, really. I'm just...overwhelmed."

"Overwhelmed by what?"

I sat quietly for a few moments staring into my soda.

"Don't tell me. It's Stephan isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Well what's the problem Chris? You love him? You don't love him? What?"

"It's just that I've never had a man love me the way he does. It's such a powerful love. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to lose myself in it."

She laughed. "So that's it! You're afraid of joining the rest of us mere mortals when we, through no conscious effort of our own, dare to put our hearts on the line and love somebody unconditionally. You're afraid of losing your precious control."

"I suppose I am."

"Well, I only have one word of advice for you Chris: lose it! Lose control! You're living in one of the most romantic spots in the whole world. All you have to do is let go, and let this place work its magic on you."

"I have felt its magic Rebecca. I have felt it. Believe me. And that's what's so scary about it. It's beautiful and scary at the same time."

"Of course it is, Chris!" she said. "All of life is beautiful and scary. And love is the most beautiful and scariest thing of all. Whenever you really love somebody, it's like putting all your cards on the table. You're saying to that person, 'Here I am, no tricks.' And if that person really loves you back, then you win. If not, then you deal another hand. But if you refuse to deal, then you're not playing in the game of life at all. Don't be one of those people."

As she finished her speech, she placed her hand over mine and stared at me with her intense blue eyes. She might have been a little drunk but her intent was clear.

"Do you remember that night when I kissed you?" I said.

"Yes," she replied.

"I never told you this, but I enjoyed it."

"I know," she said, caressing my hand. "Come on. Let's get up and dance."

Sometimes people are their own worst enemies. And this was no less true than in my own case. Capri had been a liberating experience for me, for I had allowed myself to open my heart and mind to its enchanting influence. But falling in love meant surrendering part of yourself to another living being: the individual identity coalescing and losing itself within the greater whole. And this fear of losing is what Rebecca had so astutely recognized. She saw that I was standing in my own way.

For years, she and Bonnie, and most of my other friends, had tried in vain to get me to come out of my shell. But my work always came first, most often to the detriment of my social life. During the entire seven years in which I toiled day after day to create EJAX-472, I had enjoyed no real relationships, forgoing these things in favor of the vision I slavishly sought to bring to reality even at the cost of my own personal happiness. But now I was beginning to undergo a radical shift in my thinking about the way in which I had chosen to live my life.

As I danced with Rebecca in my arms, our bare feet flying over the cool tiles of the portico, I tilted my head back and allowed her to take me by my wrists and whirl me around and around, faster and faster, until the floodlights and hanging lanterns became a blurry mass of dazzling colors that swirled around my head with such dizzying intensity that I became lost in the blazing conflagration of light. And, as I abandoned myself to the intoxicating rhythms of the music and the heady night air, I began to experience a gradual melting away of the nameless terror under whose shadow I had lived for so long. Watching the faces of my friends as they laughed and danced about me, clapping their hands and urging me on as I now danced without any partner at all, I finally realized that my love for Stephan did not mean that my own identity and sense of purpose had to be compromised. But rather that by joining together, we would create something even far more magical and profound than anything I could ever hope to envision in the sterile laboratory which had become my heart. And when the music finally came to an end, and a startled Rebecca and my other friends struggled to pick me up off the floor, drenched in sweat and overcome with joy, I knew that the person who strangely resembled me, whom I recognized as my enemy, would have no dominion over me any longer. Because the next time I saw that person coming, I would step out of the way.

"Oh, my God, look at you!" Michelle said, delighted to find me in such a bedeviled state. "Are you drunk?"

I was laughing so hard I couldn't even reply. And then suddenly, I saw my sister Bonnie looking down upon me from above, her face twisted into a puzzled grin.

"What the fuck are you doing sis?" she said as if admonishing a child.

"I'm sitting here on the floor on my ass!" I replied, with images still swimming before my eyes.

"I can see that!" Bonnie said, as she grabbed my arm and helped me to my feet. "You're really something." She reached for a chair. "Here, sit down."

At this point, several of my friends had gathered around me, curious as to why I was behaving in such an unusual manner.

"She doesn't look drunk to me," Sheila said, as she looked me in the eye.

"No Sheila, I'm not," I replied, in a giddy voice.

"Then what is it?' Bonnie demanded to know. "Why are you acting so crazy?"

I thought it funny for my sister to ask me such as question: she, herself, epitomizing the sexually debauched wild woman of her own recent birthday celebration.

"If you want to blame anybody," I said, pointing at Rebecca. "Blame her."

"What the hell are you talking about Chris?" Rebecca said, as all eyes focused on her.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about," I replied. "That little speech you gave me. It woke me up. You made me realize that I've been living in a box. And I don't want to live in a box anymore Bonnie. I want to be like the rest of you. I want to be just as loose and carefree and crazy as you are. Is that so hard to understand?"

My sister's gaze fell upon the crowd and then upon me.

"Sure sis, sure," she said looking concerned. "Whatever you want. But you know, we kind of like you just the way you are."