Authors: Bryan Murray
“You ready for lunch, Gerard?”
“I’ll be right there.” he replied sadly
Although the fashion show went like clockwork in front of a classy, invited audience, Francine still felt like she had been kicked in the guts with a sickening feeling in her stomach following her visit to see Gerard.
She still tingled at the electricity she had sensed between them just before Jeri arrived and she would have given anything to have had just five more minutes alone with Gerard before the indefatigable blonde had reappeared. She told herself that now she really had to put any thoughts of a romantic liaison with Gerard from her mind and concentrate on business at hand.
Later, a smiling Vince came to escort Francine to the post show party and as before in Monte Carlo, Francine found herself seeking temporary solace in the arms of alcohol, finally returning to her room with the first class makings of king-sized hangover.
After a disturbed night’s sleep, she awoke to face the new day, a fresh resolve in her heart. A resolve that romance was not on the menu until further notice.
After wishing a fond farewell to the wonderful people at Huntingtons, a sizeable order in her pocket for good measure, Francine and her team headed for the airport and the return flight to Dallas.
As the 767 Jet soared into the London sky, she looked back wistfully through the window, back at a country where what tender hopes she had fostered that perhaps there was a future for her and Gerard, had been shattered once again.
Ahead of her in Dallas awaited two further problems, both designed to thwart her current campaign of having nothing further to do with men. Unless she was very much mistaken, these two problems would come in the form of two men who would undoubtedly try to change her plans. One was a pain-in-the-neck ex-boyfriend and the other was a potential pain in the heart ex-husband!
In the seat next to her, Vince was already sleeping like a baby. She looked at him fondly and gently stroked his chrome dome.
‘Why can’t they all be as nice as you, Rainbow Man?’ she mused as she looked through the window at the receding coastline of England.
* * *
Francine’s heart soared when she saw Alison with Mrs.‘T’ waiting for her at the gate as they came off the flight. The child rushed into her arms joyously. “Mommy! Mommy! You’re home!”
She hugged the child, tears in her eyes. “You bet, my darling. I’ve missed you
so
much!”
“Me too!” Alison cooed, her head buried against Francine’s bosom.
Francine hugged Mrs.‘T’ affectionately as they all headed towards the waiting limo. Vince was already holding Alison’s hand like they were two pals, laughing and joking with each other as they walked through the baggage claim.
Mrs.’T’ was watching Francine closely. “Everything all right, Francine?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied. “Why, don’t I look it?”
The older lady hesitated. “It’s just that you look a little sad, my dear.”
Francine tried to laugh it off light-heartedly. “No, just a little tired from the flight, that’s all.”
Her housekeeper looked at her still unconvinced.
On arrival back at Classique Fashions, Francine couldn’t believe the level of activity. Thelma was now like a stevedore guiding trolleys of clothes in from a line of delivery vans as Olive was standing there, clipboard in hand, checking the counts as they were wheeled inside.
Francine got a most tremendous kick out of seeing literally hundreds of items on a single rack of an initial design that she could remember ‘doodling’ on the back of a napkin over lunch one day.
She could see at a glance that life could now never be the same as she finally got a brief respite from decision making and retreated to the relative peace and quiet of her office.
She was still a little jet-lagged and after a welcome slurp of coffee, she sat back in her chair, eyes closed, just as the phone rang. It was a bubbly Yvette.
“Hello, my darling, welcome back!”
“Hi, mom, how are things?”
“Very well, my love.”
“And how’s Daddy?”
“Back home and loving it!”
Francine’s heart leapt for joy. “That’s terrific, Mom!”
“So, when am I going to see you?” Yvette asked.
“When I get my head on straight.” Francine replied.
“And how was London?”
“Went very well,” Francine added, but wanted to say ‘It was the pits!’
“Good, good, so you can tell me about it when we meet. Talk to you soon, darling, bye.”
“Bye, Mom.”
Francine put the phone down. ‘Well, at least one couple got back together
,’
she mused, just as the phone rang again. She answered. “Classique Fashions?”
Steve came on the line. “Hi, Francie, it’s Steve.”
Francine’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh, hi, Steve. How are things?”
“Great, matter of fact, that’s why I’m calling, er, as we agreed.”
Francine tried to keep the conversation light-hearted. “Good, and how’s Ruby?”
“She’s fine. Would you like to talk to her?”
‘Not really’.
Francine wanted to say, but she answered. “Sure, put her on.”
Ruby came on the line. “Hi, Miss Dubois.”
“Hi, Ruby, and its Francine,
please
!”
“Yes, Francine, we called to give you an update on Steve’s progress.”
“Good, I’m listening?”
Ruby took a breath. “He’s doing super, Francine. Eating like a horse, putting on weight like a Sumo wrestler!” she chuckled.
“So, what do you think, Ruby?”
“I think he’s ready when you are.” Ruby replied.
Francine’s mind was in a whirl, “Okay. Well, I just got back from England last night, business is chaotic, so can you give me a couple of days to talk with Alison and then I’ll call you back to try and set something up.”
“Great! Our number is 555-4683.”
Francine was scribbling the number down. As if in answer to her next unspoken question, Ruby quickly added. “Steve’s staying at my place.”
“Great, I’ll call you both in a couple of days, bye.”
“Bye, and thanks, Francine.”
Francine put the phone down and heaved a heavy sigh. It had finally happened, after years of begging him to get help, it looked as if Steve had somehow made it.
She had to admit that when he was in a clean, lucid phase, Steve was a totally different person and it was at such times that he had come closest to what her expectations of him being a father had been all about.
All she had to do now, was to figure out how to explain to Alison that her father was about to re-enter their lives. She decided to wait until later that night as she tucked the child into bed. In the meantime, all she had to do was come up with the right words to make it work without any trauma to the treasure of her life. This wasn’t going to be easy.
One again the phone rang and this time another familiar voice came on the line as Francine answered.
“Hi, honey, we need to talk!” it was Roger.
“We don’t need to do anything, thank you very much!” Francine replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do!”
She was about to put the phone down when he added something that she didn’t understand. “Look, you’re making me look bad, do you hear?” he chided.
“I don’t understand you,” she replied. “You can do that all on your own without any help from me!”
“Damnit, Francine, I’ve got a reputation to keep up!” he added impatiently.
Tired as she was, she was definitely up for this argument. “Oh, and what kind of reputation might that be. That of a walking gland that can’t keep his zipper up! Grow up! Get over it!
Goodbye Roger!”
He sounded even angrier. “I guess you
have
been out of town! Damnit, Francine, don’t
do
this to me!”
“You did it to yourself, now get lost, I’ve got work to do!”
She slammed down the phone, slowly letting her burning anger subside.
What on earth was he talking about? The only thing she’d ever done to make him look bad as far as she was concerned, was when she gave him his marching orders, back in Monte Carlo. And boy, did that feel good!
Once again the phone rang and this time it was Verna from New York. “Hi, sweetie, welcome back!”
“Hi, Verna, what’s the latest?”
“Well, old Sorrenstein is really getting with the program. In fact, he’s given the special red a new name.”
“He has?”
“Yeah, Dubois Crimson!”
“You’re kidding?”
“Well, figure it out, darling. He’s never had such a large order before, so he’s decided to capitalize on the notoriety.”
“The old fox. Perhaps from now on, he’ll deliver on time.”
“You bet. So, how was London?”
Francine was getting weary of trying to sound upbeat about a trip that had clearly shattered her dreams. Once again she put on a brave face. “It went fine. And you’ll be pleased to know that the red number sold well again, Dubois crimson and all!”
“Great. Let me know what you need. Well done, sweetie.”
“Thanks, bye.”
It was a day that went by in a blur as Francine began to realize that she had left for England in control of a small business, only to arrive back in control of the beginnings of an empire. Already the premises were bulging at the seams and Olive was looking totally harassed as she was trying to keep pace with the orders placed, incoming and outgoing deliveries and now, most of all, the lovely cash was starting to roll in.
By the time six o’clock arrived, Francine had interviewed an assistant for Olive, an assistant for Thelma, spoken to two realtors about larger premises, ordered a new computer, had the phone company in to upgrade the phones and managed to speak to Vince for all of six seconds.
In view of the later discussions she had planned with Alison, she decided to take the child out for dinner to her favorite burger joint where she gamely ploughed her way through a month’s supply of grease, cholesterol and calories as Alison munched away happily, telling Francine all the ‘neat’ things that had happened since she had left for Europe.
Although Francine sat listening attentively, she realized in her mind, just how easy it can be to lose touch with your children as she marveled at all she had missed in such a brief visit abroad. Multiply this by the many months that Steve had missed out on his daughter’s life and she began to understand his interest in getting to know her all over again, now that his demons had receded, hopefully for good.
She still hadn’t a clue what she was going to say to the child, but as she finally tucked her in for the night, she perched on the side of the bed, looked deeply into those blue, innocent eyes and started to explain the situation to Alison.
Surprisingly, it went very well and by the time she was through, Alison was acting very maturely for her age and quite receptive to the idea of seeing her father, but with one major stipulation. “But I still get to live with you, Mom?” she asked nervously.
Francine hugged her affectionately. “Of course, darling. It’s just that occasionally you and your father will get to do things, you know, see a movie, go swimming, that kind of thing.”
“Well, that sounds okay!”
Francine then decided that now was as good a time as any to give Alison the rest of the news.
“There’s also something else you should know, sweetheart.”
The child looked momentarily concerned. “Nothing bad, is it, Mommy?”
“No, sweetie. In fact it’s pretty good. You see, since your Daddy and I got divorced, well, he’s met a new friend.”
“A friend?”
“Yes, a really nice lady called Ruby. You’ll really like her when you meet her.”
“Have you met her?” Alison was nobody’s fool.
“Yes, darling, that’s why I know you’re going to get along. But first of all, I think that perhaps you and Daddy should get to know each other again. What do you say?”
“Yep! That’s okay with me. When will it be?”
“Soon, my darling, soon. Now, off to sleep with you, see you in the morning, I love you.” she kissed her gently on the forehead.
“Me too, night, Mommy!” Alison snuggled under the covers and closed her eyes.
Back in her room, Francine heaved a huge sigh of relief. Now it was up to Steve not to screw things up. She hoped fervently that he was up to the task as she finally sank into an exhausted sleep. As usual, Francine could never drift off to sleep without seeing one special thing in her mind’s eye. In fact it was two special things. Two warm green eyes that were still somehow looking right into her very soul. Why weren’t they on the pillow next to her?
The following day was even more hectic than the last and Vince was already waiting for Francine when she arrived at the office, a sheaf of papers in his hand.
“Morning, Boss,” he chirped. obviously reveling in the new level of frenetic activity.
“Don’t tell me,” she smiled wryly. “More problems?”
“On the contrary.” he looked mysteriously playful.
“So?”
“So the local TV station want to do a story on Classique!”
“Story?”
“Yes, you know, rags to riches all that jazz!”
“When?”
“The second you give the word!”
“You’re joking! We’re snowed under at the moment.”
He grinned even more mischievously. “There’s also a catch.”
“What kind of catch?” he was beginning to annoy her.
“I think you might know the reporter covering the story!”
“
Roger!
No way, Jose!”
“That’s what I thought you’d say.”
“So, what now?”
“They’re still anxious to do it, so they’ve offered someone else to cover it.”
“I don’t know, Vince.” she sounded hesitant.
“Look, remember what we said, boss. Even bad publicity is…”
“I know, I know, but I don’t want anything to do with Roger or his company,” she looked at him closely. “So, why are you still smiling?”
“Because I expected you to say that. So, I spoke to their opposition across town and they also wanted to do the story!”
“So, let me guess?”
“You’re right. I said you’d be delighted.”
She shook her fist at him in a friendly manner. “One of these days, Rainbow Man!”