Mood Ring Ch. 05

The signal announcing the arrival of our soup chimed softly and I got up to get our platter form the dumbwaiter. The cold soup was well presented on white porcelain and looked very appetizing. I served her and then myself placing the tray back in the dumbwaiter and then rejoining her.

I said, "Bon appétit." And we both began to eat. It was a few minutes before we resumed our conversation. What she said next disturbed me.

"Anya, you know what just occurred to me? Lynne McKinney died in that car accident. I have been a ghost for the past three years."

She must have perceived the concern in my look because she rapidly attempted to explain.

"No, look at it this way. I am speaking figuratively. Lynne McKinney made some really bad choices right before she was in that accident and I have been trying to deal with them ever since. The thing is; I don't have to. The accident gave me a clean slate so to speak. Tonight is really the first night that I have felt alive in three years. Like you said, I cannot change my past but I am responsible for my future.

The accident gave me a new face. Heck; even because of the pregnancy, my body looks different to me."

OK I admit; I had to think about that one. She saw my brows knit as I tried to imagine how; she blushed and quickly said, "I don't want to talk about it. Forget I just said that." then she swatted my arm playfully exclaiming "Shut up!" as I tried not to smile and failed. I hadn't seen her before the accident but she was so embarrassed that I quickly made the connection. One of the early signs of pregnancy is a change in the breast tissue and nipple. Hers were very prominent and her nipple rise had been one of my first clues that she was excited by my touching her.

I burst out laughing and she joined me. And with that, all of the unspoken tension left the room. It was nice to have everything out.

Another chime signaled the arrival of the second course. It was a blood-orange, beet, and fennel salad. Not only were the colors very attractive, the taste was a mixture of tart and sweet; exciting to the tongue.

Lynne continued with her line of thought. When she said she was speaking figuratively, I relaxed a little bit.

"I have been so busy mourning the things that I lost and can never replace. I think that is what I meant when I said I have been living like a ghost. Like a displaced spirit; instead of living, I have been mourning my lost looks, friendship, even on a subconscious level, my baby."

Pauvre petite femme! So much loss.

She looked at me and explained further what she had endured, "Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw the changes from my former appearance. The first time I saw my face, I was all bandaged and when they took the bandages off, I was still swollen and discolored. The surgeries to repair the damage lasted over a year and I have equated the changes in my face with the bruising and swellings and have been superimposing them over my healed face. I was completely disassociated with who I am and who I was. I have not been able to connect with who I see in the mirror."

I reached over and started to stroke her forearm in sympathy. I don't think she noticed that I was touching her.

"But tonight when I made an effort to make myself pretty, I made a turn. I looked in the mirror tonight and liked who I saw for the first time since the accident. My new haircut and the fact that all of the scars have faded allowed me to regard myself from outside myself."

I smiled at that, I was proud of Peter's work and my involvement and said, "Yes, Peter did outstanding work on you."

She paused her eating and asked if I knew Dr. Chapman.

Merde! I had made my contribution anonymously. But the cat was out of the bag now.

"Dr. Chapman is one of the premier plastic reconstruction and cosmetic surgeons in the world. He is based out of Los Angeles. How did you think he came to work on you?"

She made the connection and asked, "You arranged for him to repair my face?"

There could be no future if there were any secrets or dishonesty. I had to answer her direct question.

"You are one of the ways I have tried to redeem myself for the things I have done in my past. I saw your photos from before the accident and felt I had to do what I could for you."

"My unknown benefactor has made herself known. Thank you so much!"

I was a bit uncomfortable at the revelation, I had truly meant for it to be a secret, but I suppose it would come out eventually if we made a future together. Still...

"Lynne, please! You of all people can understand doing something and not wanting recognition. But, you are very welcome. It is my pleasure to see you thrive. Peter is not only an excellent surgeon, he is an accomplished artist. He did do outstanding work on you. You are lovely!"

She made it into a joke, "Maybe I can change my name to Galatea."

Outstanding, I think she could sense my discomfort and was easing me. I played along.

"Don't you dare! That would make me Pygmalion! I won't have anyone call me a pig!"

I grabbed my wine glass as did she and spontaneously I made to clink them together non-verbally toasting our companionship and ease of mood.

"Ready for the next course?"

She inquired how many courses there were and I told her. There were five, each one building on the seduction theme. The first two courses were somewhat generic, a cool soup to soothe, followed by a sharp tangy salad to engage the taste-buds. The next dish was an obvious one; Raw oysters, Beef Carpaccio and Yellowtail Tartare with payusnaya caviar.

I would go ahead and signal for it to be sent, but I would have to be sure about not playing my hand too strongly. I had placed the order for the "seduction selection" (despite its stupid name) under the misunderstanding that we were dancing to the same music.

I reached over to the console and pushed the button. When I turned around, Lynne was filling our glasses. She had already filled hers halfway and was in the process of filling mine.

She filled it to the brim and placed the bottle down. Then she looked over at me with a comically wide-eyed expression of innocence and I had to react.

"Lynne McKinney! Are you trying to get me drunk?

"I don't know anybody named Lynne." she replied. "My name is Frances."

Oh I loved it, what a beautiful name. I told her so. I asked her if she just randomly picked it.

"It is my given name. My full name is Frances Lynne McKinney."

I said, "It is lovely, you are my Frances! It will be your name just for me?"

"No-one else uses it to call me. Frances is all yours."

That she hadn't randomly picked a new name was a good sign. It would always connect her with her past. She also was able to explain why she was numb and remembered all of the things that she had been repressing. Perhaps my fears were groundless. I would have to sift a little more before I tried to reel her into my world. But I was in no hurry. It was a delight to interact with her and she was bringing out feelings in me that I had not realized for anyone before. I was involved with René at a young age and since then my life had been a cold hell. Now I think I could see a new dawn in her sunny smile.

I think everything was back on track. Her fun flirty side had returned but I still needed to remain cautious. I suspected from what she told me about being disconnected from her life and image (understandably) that she had a minor depersonalization disorder. While it had an organic cause, I had to be careful with her so she would not make a complete dissociative break. I am not sure that taking a new name was totally healthy and was a little chilled at the possibility that if I pushed her too hard, she could develop a multiple personality dissociative state. That was totally a worst case scenario, but I was glad that I had mended my ways. The Dragon Lady would have chewed her alive and to Hell with the harm.