XXXV

“Aló?”

“Frédérique, I’ve got someone on the line for you”, said Karen in her usual friendly tone, “A Stanley…Kowalski something? Does it ring a bell?”

“Isn’t that the character from A Streetcar Named Desire?” Frédérique giggled, amused by the coincidence, but Karen didn’t answer. She shook her head at her own silliness and then took a breath to focus again. “OK, put him through, Karen. Thanks”.

“Hey, Fred” a husky voice greeted her softly after a moment of silence. “You changed your cell phone number?”.

“Oh, hi” Frédérique said politely, trying to hide the tension in her voice after recognizing her interlocutor. She ignored his question.

“We need to talk, Fred”, the tone was both seductive and imperative at the same time.

“No, I don’t think so.”, Frédérique turned to her “business” tone, evidencing her resistance. “Least of all over the phone. The office’s phone”.

“But we need to do something about-“

“No”, Frédérique interrupted with a stern but soft voice, “I’m going to hang up now so unless you have anything else to talk about, this is the end of the conversation”.

“Alright, alright, I get it”. Frédérique heard a sigh. "Can't blame me for tryin', can ya?". She was surprised that he didn’t resume the subject. “Take care, then”.

“Yes…um…goodbye”, she finished with a frown. But she was everything but comfortable with the way he had given up so easily. She tried to shake the sensation off by going to the toilet, maybe someone would ask her something and she would forget all about that brief but disturbing conversation.

It worked for a few hours, but when she was driving back to her apartment it came back to her: the call itself hadn’t been quite a surprise but the way he had taken her negative was. How intriguing…She would have to keep her guard up.

Frédérique stopped at the cell phone shop and picked up her new cell phone, she couldn’t believe she had to wait five entire days for the damn appliance to finally reach her hands, but thankfully had been able to keep her number and in touch with her family via mail. In the corridor in front of her door she greeted Mrs. Feldman, who lived next door and was coming back from walking her little pug.

“Dear, I suppose you didn’t forget about coming over and checking the humidity stains in my bathroom, did you?” the old woman asked with a sweet but high-pitched tone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Mrs. Feldman”, apologized Frédérique with a gasp, placing her palm over her right cheek, she didn’t like making promises she couldn’t keep. “These days have been a little...crazy. Do you want me to take a look at them now?”, she offered.

“Please, dear, no” the woman placated. “You look tired, you go take a bath and rest, we can do this some other day”.

“Thank you Mrs. Feldman”, replied Frédérique with a warm smile as she squatted to give the puppy a scratch behind its ears. “I promise I’ll come over this weekend, OK? Oh, and thank you for being my alarm clock these past few days”. Mrs Feldman usually walked her dog twice a day - once in the morning and once in the evening. “I finally got another one”, said Frédérique with a grin, waving her phone in the air next to her head.

After saying goodbye, Frédérique entered her apartment, hung her jacket on the rack and left her suitcase beneath it on the floor. As she walked in front of her CD collection she searched for a specific CD, pulled it out and inserted it in the record player. She was in need of a little Patsy Cline to cheer her up on a Friday night. She searched for the song she wanted to hear first and pushed play.

Frédérique took off her clothes and showered as the notes of “Crazy” filled the empty rooms of her house. She briefly blow-dried her hair so it wouldn’t drip and was putting on her sleeping shorts and tanktop when she heard her phone ring. She jumped in surprise at first and the ran to get it. It was her brother Jean.

“Hey baby brother? How are you?”, she answered excitedly. “Insomnia too?”, it should be way past one in the morning in France by then.

“I’ve got some news”, the man told her, barely being able to control his own excitement. “Marie’s pregnant again”. He waited for his sister's reaction.

Frédérique rubbed her ribs with her idle hand and winced, then swallowed the lump that instantly formed in her throat and spoke with a soft voice and a smile. “That’s so wonderful, Jean. How far-?”

“And we’re getting married”, yelled her brother.

Frédérique stuttered: “What?... When?”

“I know you’re going to kill me about this, but she told me this afternoon and I just proposed to her on the spot and we can’t wait, we’re getting married the Saturday after the next. Do you think you can make it? You must come, sis”, Jean blurted out.

“Wow” Frédérique chuckled “Nine years of relationship, a three year old boy, another one on the way and now you can’t wait to get married?”. Jean chuckled, too. “Of course I’m coming, I wouldn’t miss it for the world”. She finished with a hint of sadness in her voice. “I miss you all”.

They chatted for nearly half an hour and after hanging up Frédérique set the alarm to 9.30 - she was planning on running the next morning, she hadn't been able to do it during the week. Afterwards, she headed for the kitchen: she had missed lunch and was starving to death and in serious need for some coffee to get rid of a buzz that lingered inside her head, so she started the machine as well and took some ingredients from the fridge to prepare a tomato, avocado and feta cheese salad. It probably wouldn’t be enough but later she could would think of something else with more consistency.

She opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass, which she placed next to the cutting board on the kitchen counter. As she sang along, she prepared the avocado and cut the feta cheese in thin scales, then proceeded to wash the tomatoes but was interrupted by the door bell. She looked at the time and it was a quarter to eight. “Come on in” came from the speakers.

...If I had one wish, I wish I could
Go back to my old neighborhood
Where the good folks they all love you as their own...

She didn’t usually get the door if she wasn’t expecting visitors, but maybe Mrs. Feldman was more anxious than she appeared to be after all. She realized she wasn’t quite properly dressed to open the door so she covered herself with the gray woolen jacket but remained barefoot. She made a mental note of remembering to have a peephole placed in the door. ASAP.

Frédérique opened the door just enough to see who it was, and kept the chain on - New York was New York after all, not precisely the safest city in the world. After seeing who it was, she closed the door back, took the chain off, opened the door wide and wrapped the lapels of the knee-long jacket over her chest to further cover herself, before leaning against the door jamb. Of course he wouldn’t give up so easily, she knew that: that was the buzz inside her head, that possibility she had tried to ignore, hoping that by ignoring it, it wouldn’t happen.

“I’m sorry it’s late”, he said with a raspy, low voice and mischievous sparkling eyes, struggling to stiffen a satisfied smirk. “It took me a little longer to find out where you lived”, he added when a smirk curled the corners of Frédérique’s lips. She just couldn't keep her guard up around him. Then it was her turn to speak, and she dared to quip, it wouldn't be the first time she had tried to make a dent in his pride.

“I’m disappointed actually…”, she sighed and shook her head in mock disappointment. “…that you didn’t find out the code to open the door. I thought your powers were greater”.

He answered with a chuckle, accepting his defeat, and shook his head while it hang from his neck. His hands were in the front pocket of his jeans and he balanced himself on his heels.

“So…will you let me in?”, he looked into her eyes and arched and eyebrow with a more serious look and tone. His beauty and charm barely made up for his annoyingly arrogant attitude.

Frédérique took a step back inside the apartment. “Like you would take no for an answer…”, she sighed, resigned. Then held the door with her right hand and extended her left arm to motion him in, then slapped it back against her side. She heard the song in the background and smirked at the timing.

“Come on in, Jon. Welcome to Frédérique’s”.

...Come on in and sit right down and make yourself at home...