This really should've been the second half of chapter 8 but I posted the first half separately just to motivate myself to keep going.
Nathalie's Resolution
Part 9
By: I Write Big
The name burrowed itself into Nathalie's mind. Did Mr. Agreste make a mistake? Doubtful. He had taken the time to like and share the announcement post on over twelve separate sites. This was intentional. Try as she might, Nathalie couldn't picture that barren wasteland with a pair of ice cold eyes doing this for her. Yet there was his name and it filled her with hope.
"I'm not an island..." she heard herself mutter.
Her phone rumbled again and another notification appeared with a name she recognized as one of Mr. Agreste's many associates in the fashion industry. It was closely followed by another and another and another. They filled the screen and started pushing the older notifications away. The names became unfamiliar and Nathalie realized the rest of the world had caught on. Her phone vibrated endlessly and the names blurred across the screen in a mesmerizing dance of colors.
Somehow the jingle of metal broke the spell. It came from the other side of the storage closet door. She knew that jingle but maybe it was her imagination. There it was again. Two more times. By the ninth jingle she worked up the nerve to go outside. Through the kitchen window she saw Greta's was suddenly much more crowded. It was too soon for the after school rush. What were these people doing here?
She heard the jingle again and she stepped out of the kitchen.
People had flooded the shop. The owner of Greta's stood behind the register, watching as flabbergasted as Nathalie. They were all ignoring the food and instead checking their phones and pushing towards the small table in the corner. Endless lei dropped into the coinbox with a jingle of metal and hands grabbed the scarfs from the display. Those in the crowd who already had their new scarf were taking countless selfies with the product.
Her product.
"Natalia!" the owner of Greta's pushed a wide empty box into her arms and pointed to the meager coinbox now overflowing with lei. Nathalie was rooted to the spot. This was a dream. It had to be another dream. She must already be back in the cottage, fast asleep. Natalia would appear any second now and ruin the wonderful illusion. Not this time. She wouldn't allow herself to be fooled again. She clenched her eyes and willed herself to awaken.
She didn't.
Her phone kept rumbling in her hand. The jingle of coin kept sounding on the slowly clearing table. The owner of Greta's again motioned for her to exchange the boxes before lei started falling to the floor. And that's when Nathalie understood.
This was real.
She was awake.
She was smiling and she couldn't stop.
She was crying and she couldn't stop.
Emilie had allowed Adrien to skip piano practice but he had to go to the photoshoot. Father almost never allowed him to miss those. He had tried to clean his face as best as he could, but the photographer still complained about Adrien's eyes being too red and puffy. Some foundation and eye drops from the makeup artist and he was passable. Adrien stepped out onto the pure white backdrop, careful not to loosen the tie around his neck. It was too tight, he felt like he could barely breathe, but he wasn't allowed to adjust anything unless the photographer with the pencil thin mustache said so.
"You look so much better!" the photographer exclaimed. "It is remarkable how much allergies can ruin the complexion, no?"
Adrien silently agreed.
"Now, this is a joyous occasion! Show me victory! Pride!"
The stampede of shutter clicks began. Adrien took his tried and true pose that combined childlike aloofness with suave sophistication and stretched his smile that extra millimeter.
"More!" the photographer's mustache bristled with the demand. "You are witnessing the most important moment of somebody's life!"
Adrien tried to swallow but the tie only got tighter. The fabric felt like it was thickening into a heavy rope, scratching against his throat. He took a more adventurous posture and flashed his pearly teeth.
"Yes! Yes! That's it! Achieving dreams! Struggles paying off at last! Nothing has made you happier than seeing them succeed!"
The rope snapped his airway shut! Adrien was suffocating! The lights were blinding! His pockets felt so empty! He ripped the noose off and left the backdrop, ignoring the photographer's protests. He pushed past several people until he found the dressing room and locked himself inside. There on the couch were his jeans. On top of the jeans, eating a wedge of cheese, was Plagg.
"Done already?" the Kwami asked.
Adrien reached into the jeans pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened the text messages.
'Are you coming back?'
Still no response.
He could barely keep his hands steady as he attempted to type out a new message.
'I heard abou' Erase.
'Fashion designer, huh? I would've helpe' Erase.
'Please come bac' Erase.
'Are you really from Romani' Erase.
'Please com' Erase.
'I'm happy for y' Erase.
'Com'
He forced himself to stop. Nothing felt right. Above his text were suggested words. The center one said 'Congratulations'. That's exactly what he should write. He promised to support Nathalie no matter what that might entail. Even if she never saw the message, he should say it. He should.
Erase.
The scarfs ran out around 4 in the afternoon. Pre-orders were collected until 7. Even after Nathalie paid Nicolae for tomorrow's scarfs and the owner of Greta's for their table, she had still made a profit. Just over triple the investment. Mr. Agreste would call that a more than adequate success. The box of lei sat next to her in the family truck's passenger seat. The last hour had been spent scrambling to set up an online ordering link. It seems Mr. Agreste's recommendation was being taken to heart worldwide.
Nathalie was grateful that the sun had set. None of the Bucharest street lights shined into the truck which made hiding her ever present smile easier. She hadn't been able to get rid of the thing. Each time she thought she was regaining control a new fit of tears and giggles would bubble to the surface and the corners of her mouth would tug further upwards. It would've been annoying if she wasn't so happy.
The online ordering link was shared. Five orders already. That brought another round of snickers. She was in no condition to drive through the pitch black roads back to the cottage. She was practically drunk on joy. She leaned her seat back and tried to compose her thoughts.
This is a momentary trend.
That's the response Mr. Agreste would use in the face of any success. It didn't matter if the Gabriel Fashion Company had created the hottest new fashion item. It would pass. Public interest would wane and there would most likely not be anymore demands for scarfs before the end of the week. It didn't matter. Fashion is fickle and very rarely does one design cement itself into society. She had seen Mr. Agreste working on a full year's worth of designs at once. Nothing was enough. It didn't matter.
"You have their attention," she heard herself whisper.
This trip wasn't a waste. She had proven she could make something people wanted. But could she go further? Should she stop here? Today was a test. Tomorrow would come the risk.
"Now what?"
His dinner was getting cold, but Adrien wasn't hungry. He had dismissed Emilie early who reluctantly left despite her worried looks. Eventually, when the silence got annoying, Plagg floated out of his shirt with a grumble.
"Come on, man, you haven't said a word since the photoshoot. What's going on? Talk to me."
Adrien said nothing.
"What about that Marinette girl? Will you talk to her?"
The suggestion filled Adrien with even more shame. He couldn't bother Marinette with this. He was supposed to be helping her with her problems. Not the other way around. Besides, there wasn't any problem to solve. He had promised he would support Nathalie no matter what. He didn't need to bother anyone. Adrien rose from the table and left his cold dinner behind. He headed for his room, listening to the hollow echoes of his footsteps on the marble floor. Then a ball of black zipped past his nose and Adrien saw his Kwami floating before his father's office door.
"Plagg, what're you—"
He banged on the door!
"Plagg!"
Adrien nabbed the Kwami out of the air and stuffed him back in his shirt. The boy tried to be as silent as a ghost. The tiny troublemaker's knocks had been like the slightest taps. The typing of father's keyboard probably drowned them out. He could just slip away.
"Come in, Adrien."
The boy stiffened and glared down at Plagg before opening the door. He needed to take a moment to squint his eyes. Father always kept his office so brightly lit that it felt like the sun itself was beating down from the ceiling. Adrien barely poked his head in and gave his best apologetic smile, "I accidentally tripped against the door. Didn't mean to bother you, father, sorry. Goodnight."
"I was told what happened at the photoshoot today."
Adrien didn't move. It was like he had been ensnared by a net while simultaneously hit with multiple paralyzing darts.
His father stepped around the desk and fully opened the office door. "What's wrong?"
A terrible thought suddenly occurred to Adrien. If there was anybody who could get Nathalie to come back, it was father. She still worked for him. If father said so, Nathalie would be on the next flight to Paris. All Adrien had to do was tell the truth. He almost did.
"Nothing."
"The photographer wasn't unprofessional?"
"No."
"Is it the new assistant?"
"Nothing happened."
His father hummed, "I see… Then this is about Nathalie."
Adrien's voice caught in his suddenly dry throat. That wasn't a question. His father had plainly stated exactly what was consuming his mind as if it was the most obvious answer. His father brusquely turned and marched back into his office. It was the march that Adrien knew doubled as a nonvocal order to follow. As if in a trance, Adrien entered and sat on the edge of the white leather couch.
"I myself was surprised by her initiative," his father admitted while looking out the window, "I had nearly forgotten about Nathalie's ambitions."
"She's… She's not in trouble, is she?"
His father shifted around and gave Adrien an inquisitive look, "Is that what's worrying you?"
Adrien turned away before it was too late. If he looked father in the eye, he might crack. It was taking every ounce of restraint to hold his pleas in.
He heard his father walk across the room. Something heavy slid across wood. His father walked back and sat next to Adrien. In his arms his father opened a thick binder to reveal photos of mother. In the background he saw film equipment and lights. What looked like a director was emphatically talking to mother. And behind mother, working diligently on the waistline of the elegant dress she wore was...
"Nathalie? Is that Nathalie?" Her hair was a little longer and the red highlight was missing, but there was no mistake. "I didn't know she worked with mother."
"On a couple of her passion projects. There was a time when the two of them were inseparable." Adrien saw a somber nostalgia come over his father. He usually got like this when they talked about mother.
"But, wait..." Adrien attempted to recall his mother's acting career. There were some vague memories of mother heading to set in the back of Adrien's mind, however in all those memories Nathalie stayed home with him. Something must have happened between then and when these photos were taken. "If Nathalie wanted to become a fashion designer, why did she stop making clothes for mother?"
That somber nostalgia shifted to something Adrien couldn't quite place. His father's face had become unreadable again. "I'm not entirely sure. However, I do know that Nathalie made your mother more beautiful than I ever could," his father said as he slowly flipped the page to even more behind the scenes shots that showed mother and Nathalie stitching away. "She's not in trouble, Adrien. I would never get in Nathalie's way."
Adrien's sights landed on a photo where mother was stepping onto set, a rich gown flowing behind her. Watching mother go was Nathalie, shining with a soft smile. He couldn't tear himself away from that smile. He had never seen Nathalie smile like that. It was so… genuine. A drop of water splattered on the image and that's when Adrien realized he was crying again. Before Adrien knew it was happening, his father's arms were wrapped around him. These hugs were so far apart yet always so warm. Adrien instantly melted into his father's hold. The comfort dried the tears and Adrien finally spoke his mind.
"But what if she never comes back?"
"I'm not going anywhere, Adrien."
END
You know, ''resolution' has several different meanings...
