Chapter 2-3
1200 Words
“Hello, Ms. Thompson, my name is Bill Cullen. I’m with Emerald City Opera and we met last week at a board meeting. Do you by any chance know a woman named Perrin Williams?”
He felt stupid for calling one of Seattle’s movers and shakers with such a dumb question, but it was all he could think to do. He’d had to shake Perrin fairly hard to rouse her at all. When he’d asked who he should call, she mumbled, “Cassidy or Jo.” At least that’s what he thought she’d said before collapsing back onto his office sofa.
There were two women he’d met recently at a Friends of the Opera board meeting, where he’d gone to give a presentation about the new production. One of them had been Cassidy Knowles, a leading wine entrepreneur. And Jo Thompson who had replaced the powerhouse Renée Linden and appeared to be no less formidable. He couldn’t imagine the association a small-time fashion designer would have with these two, but the names were unique enough that he decided to give it a try.
“Actually it’s Jo Parrano now, but yes, I know her. Is she okay?”
“I’m not sure. She collapsed on my office sofa and fell asleep.”
He heard a long-suffering sigh over the phone. “She does that. My recommendation is to make sure she’s comfortable, then throw a blanket over her.”
“But she’s in my office,” Bill once again felt as if he were being dumb. And like he was whining, which was even more embarrassing. He took a breath and tried to calm down. “I don’t quite know what to do with her.”
“Welcome to the club, Mr. Cullen. Well, I’m in Hawaii on my honeymoon and I think Cassidy is in France for a vintner’s conference. We closed the restaurant and gave the staff a week off, no idea where they will have scattered to. If she still hasn’t slept since before the wedding, she’ll be down until sometime tomorrow morning. My best advice is to just let her sleep.” The woman spoke as if this were somehow normal behavior.
“But in my office?” It hardly seemed appropriate, or convenient.
“Oh, you can work. Nothing much on the planet will wake her. And she’ll wake very hungry, so having some food around would be a kindness. She eats anything. Sorry I can’t be more helpful.”
“Uh, I guess she’s okay as long as I don’t need to rush her to the hospital or back to the mothership or something.”
Jo Thompson had the decency to laugh. “That latter option wouldn’t surprise any of us even a little bit. Is she okay there? I could try to rally some troops… ”
Her voice was very tentative.
“No. I’ll take care of it from here. Congratulations and thanks.” He hung up the phone wondering what in hell he’d just signed up for. Well, one thing was for damn sure, he couldn’t just leave her there like that. For one thing, his hormones would kill him looking at her in that amazing dress for hour after hour.
He picked up the phone and buzzed downstairs. Then he sat back to wait and allowed himself just a moment to admire the revelation of such exceptional beauty of the woman who wore that amazing dress.
Jaspar and Tamara arrived about the same time that Jerimy, the head of the Costume Shop, arrived from the floor below. The kids ran in and gave him huge, after-school hugs. Whatever else he was messing up, he was doing this right…mostly. Tamara was drifting away and he had no idea what to do about it. She still hugged him when she wasn’t really thinking about it. Other times it was suffered, and recently she’d avoided his hug a few times. As a single dad, she often left him with his moorings cut loose and no channel markers on where to go from there.
Jaspar was just gone ten, a cocky, know-it-all, splendid fifth grader. Dark-haired like his dad, but with his mother’s wide eyes. Tamara was a sophisticated thirteen-year old acting like she was in high school rather than tolerating the last months of middle school, and who thankfully hadn’t yet decided her dad was a crime against nature. She looked so like a young version of her dead mother—a thick mane of dark red hair, and pale, pale skin—that she broke his heart every day, though he would never let it show.
They waved hello to Jerimy and turned for their usual after-school-debrief hangout of the couch, then stumbled to a halt.
“Who’s she?” Jaspar tipped his head sideways to study Perrin sort of right side up. “Is she real or a mannequin?”
“She’s breathing, dummy.” Tamara tipped her head so like her brother that Bill had to cover his mouth to not laugh at them.
He shared a smile with Jerimy over the kid’s heads.
“Wild dress,” Tamara’s voice was filled with a bit of wonder.
“Yeah,” how in the hell was he supposed to explain this one? He almost went with spaceship alien as being the most plausible. No, he’d better go for the simple truth, that was bizarre enough on the credibility scale. Jerimy was leaning comfortably against the door frame enjoying the whole scene.
Tamara brushed Perrin’s crazy hair back from her face. “I like her hair.”
“Don’t get any ideas, kiddo. No crazy dye jobs.”
Tamara squinched her eyes shut and stuck her tongue out at him. He did the same right back. A good moment. When had he started hoarding those?
“She’s our new costume designer, but I think she was awake for five days straight or something.”
“She okay?” Jaspar was whispering. They all were.
“I called a friend of hers who assures me that she just needs to sleep. Jerimy, I’m going to take the kids out for some ice cream,” there was a small round of quiet cheers. “Before they start their homework,” a chorus of less soft boos.
He stood up and grabbed Jaspar around the waist and held him upside down until he was giggling. Been a long while since he’d been able to do that with Tamara. Probably since Adira’s death when Tamara had decided she had to become the lady of the household. Hell of a burden for a then nine-year old girl. He and Tamara had both grown up a lot that year. Jaspar had been six, too young to do more than be in shock.
“Ms. Williams,” he figured remaining formal in front of his kids was a good thing. “She was modeling a costume design for me when she fell asleep. Jerimy, I was hoping that you could gather some more comfortable clothes, arrange for a discreet change, and then toss a blanket on her. I’m assured that she will be almost impossible to wake for some time yet.”
Jerimy nodded. “I’ll go gather some supplies, and help.” He tickled Jaspar’s belly button where being held upside down had made his shirt pull out of his pants. Jaspar squirmed and giggled harder as Jerimy left.
“She’s beautiful,” Tamara was still studying the sleeping Perrin Williams.
“She’s even prettier when she’s awake.”
His daughter eyed him with a far too thoughtful look.
He shook his head, a clear “no way!” Tamara had alternated over the years between trying to matchmake him, and assuming that he no longer loved Tamara’s mother if he even glanced at a woman walking down the street.
Well, she didn’t need to worry. This woman was nuts. Not no way. Not no how.
He herded the kids out of there before there were more questions.
But Bill could still feel the outline of where Perrin’s palm had rested over his heart. The touch of the Empress, a great curse or a great blessing in the new opera’s story. Always unknown, but always powerful.
- Writer
