Chapters 13-14
When Hell Freezes Over, ch 13, My Sister Slept With Her Boss
Hilda didn't care that overseas calls cost an arm and a leg. She tried to reach Betty, but all she got was that the phone was switched off or Betty was somewhere with no connection. OK, Hilda understood: Of course Betty had switched off her mobile. She'd sent that text that screamed for more than one comment, and then she yellowed out, afraid of what Hilda would say.
Hilda had a lot on her mind. And no one to tell.
She sent fifteen messages telling Betty to phone the second she read the text. She knew the messages didn't reach Betty. Hilda's sisterly love and ditto curiosity was stuck in Queens. Typical Betty! She could have hit the sack with Daniel any day of the week in NY, and Hilda could have advised her on this one issue she was much more educated in than her sister. She knew everything about picking the wrong man. Then again: Maybe Daniel wasn't the wrong man after all! Ahat if he was just the one for Betty? What if they had gazed into each other's eyes and realized it was true love? And then hit the sack.
Her stomach twisted at that one, but it was a possibility. Everything was possible as long as Betty didn't get back to her. How could she throw off a bomb like that and then vanish into thin air? It couldn't have been the dream date. Hilda wouldn't have sent a message like that after a dream date. It would have been followed by a lot of kisses and smiley faces. Betty loved smileys as much as the next girl.
Hilda had so much to say! She had so many questions and worries and thoughts! And no one to tell – unless…
The Gionistas was a bunch of women with life experience. They had seen a thing or two, or knew someone who had. They had some ideas about men. They had known some. They obviously had done some horizontal yoga in their days – and nights. What was more important: They had taste in men – they all adored Gio!
And they knew her. Respected her even. Hilda hadn't met that much up front respect in her life. She hadn't had that many friends who were women. Usually women looked at her and decided they knew her kind. She had been backstabbed one time too many.
The gionistas included her. She was one of them.
It was the one place where people loved her and nobody knew her name.
She could discuss everything with them. They didn't only chat about Gio. They weren't that shallow! They had multiple"life in general" threads as well. So far none called "My sister slept with her boss!" but that could easily be fixed.
Betty wouldn't know. Betty had no idea there existed a Gionista page. Betty had no idea gionistas existed.
SandwichGirl logged in and started a new thread. She quickly typed: "My Sister Slept With Her Boss."
She stayed put in front of the screen. It was impossible to deny the words once she saw them in print on the screen next to her nick.
"I'm worried sick about my sister. She has been all secretive about this trip to Paris with her boss. She is like so close to him, but they have sort of been more like brother & sister, and I have never really imagined them as a couple. The thought of the two of them together like that is sort of freaking me out – I can't really think of that too long. He's like family. He should be looking after my sister – not seducing her, luring her to bed! Hey, I told our dad he had nothing to fear in this situation. My sister could just as well have travelled to Europe with a girlie friend, I told him. Nothing would happen to his baby girl. Yeah right! Not that I'm telling dad! Heaven forbid! Anyway, she hasn't told me like anything about what has been going on over there. Short text messages and photos of what she has seen, and gee, that is a beautiful city, right? And she has phoned a couple of times and like talked for almost an hour, and that should have told me something was going on. After all he pays the phone bill and the rooms and all… come to think of it, I think they share room – or suite, whatever, as she slipped during one of those calls and said 'we' and then corrected it to 'I' when she talked about the room she had – or they, as it turns out – I fear. Well, today, I called her to say 'merry Christmas' and she sounds totally out of it. I obviously caught her in bed, and yeah, it's like morning here, but it's midday in Europe – and hello! Still in bed around midday??? And then she texts me she has slept with her boss. Just that. And she switches off her phone. What can I do?"
Cookie73: "Yea! Go your sister! At least someone got laid this Christmas! And you'll all get a much better quality of Xmas presents when they're back from Paris! Envy your sis big time!"
Gioslover: "Is this the sister who Gio liked? Is she blind or what? Hope you're keeping it together, Sandwich-sweetie. You're not your sister's keeper. While you're angsting, she's probably I won't spell it out for you, not giving you a thought!"
GrannyBeth: "Let's not judge here before we know what has happened. In fact I'm not sure it's any of our business at all! Could be your sister and her boss fell in love while in Paris, and the new development is a result of that. Could have been in the air for a while even if you haven't noticed, SandwichGirl. You are used to seeing them as friends. Things can have been changing between them and they decided to go away to explore this – and maybe it was right. Imagine – falling in love in Paris during Christmas? What can possibly be more romantic?"
Cookie73: "I'll tell you what could be more romantic, GrannyBeth: Gio and I in Paris, falling in love during Christmas! Now that's romance for you!"
Mrsrossi: "I take it that you have heard nothing still, SandwichGirl? I understand your worry, especially if she only wrote that one sentence. Maybe it was really horrible, huh? And she's alone with her boss in a foreign country and can't make it home. He really can do anything to her. But I guess there's no need to panic. You have known this guy for some time? He wouldn't like – abuse her or anything? Does he have a reputation with women? A reputation for being violent? You must not stop trying to reach her though – maybe the hotel… but then maybe he would answer and say everything is OK… I don't mean to upset you or anything."
SandwichGirl: "He's a bit of a ladies' man, but he's very sweet – he wouldn't hurt a fly and not my sister. Not at all! But thank you all for caring. I'm just being the drama queen. She's having fun in Paris. He's sweeping her off her feet, and here I am being the silly sister. No one has ever tried to seduce me in Paris. Sigh! In backseats of cars and places I wouldn't describe to you, though maybe not during Christmas *smiles* I'm not used to the posh loving. She's of course fine. Can't hang over the computer all morning, my dad's getting suspicious, not to mention my teenage son. See you all later – merry Christmas! Sorry for panicking! You're the best!"
GrannyBeth: "We won't speculate, girls. This can be a very happy story! SandwichGirl will update – in the meantime: Have a brilliant Christmas! (What are you doing here anyway? Hush back to your families!)"
Cookie73: "Sure wonder what Gio is up to! Cooking I guess. I bet he rather would have been in Paris with me. Falling in love and getting laid. I would have so liked that! Who am I fooling – I would have settled with getting laid! Do you hear me, Gio? Lovesick hottie craving for your sexy moves! Thinking of you! And still envying SandwichGirl's sister. "
Gio-Gurl-4-Ever: "Gio is doing his sexy moves with that Swedish Anna, Cookie, my sweetie! Yeah – I'm rubbing it in! Merry Christmas!"
Hilda practically fell out of the sofa as her cell did its Santa voiced "ho-ho-ho!" to tell her a new message was coming in. She fled out on the porch to read in privacy as soon as she understood Betty was finally communicating.
Text message from Betty to Hilda: "Been silly. 2 much champers. Dealin w it in grown up way. My fault & his. D very sweet. Im OK. Home 2moro. Dont tell dad. Luv U."
As if that said anything at all! Hilda was even more worried after having read Betty's edited version of her Parisian affair. And she was returning tomorrow? It had to be grim. But then again Betty had a reputation for running when the going got rough. Betty wasn't one to stand tall in confrontations, unless she was forced to. And Daniel was the same. Hilda very much doubted the two of them were dealing with it in a grown up way. She suspected they hid in each their rooms in the suite she was sure they shared, and avoided talking about it.
She would have loved to hold Betty and tell her the world wasn't collapsing, that her life wasn't over, that she didn't have to quit her job, that she would eventually be able to look Daniel in the eye again… she would have loved to tell Betty the pain would slowly disappear, and that she wasn't the silliest girl of the universe.
She had been where Betty was now, and she had cried and she had been heartbroken, but she had survived. And every time Betty had been there for her. She felt helpless not being able to be a sister to Betty when she needed one.
And no way she could return to the Gionista forum and tell how awful Betty felt. She totally regretted having posted that part about Betty sleeping with Daniel. Her excuse was that she had totally needed to get that off her chest. And who else were there to tell? At least she hadn't mentioned any names. It wasn't like anyone could identify Betty and Daniel…
Gio eased his mother's worries as soon as they got back the internet connection. She hated that he was away for Christmas. It was the first Christmas any of her children hadn't been home. She was sappy and sentimental, and he smiled at her worries – and loved being loved that much. He wrote her a letter from the heart, for her eyes only. Nella would have to open it and print it out and all that, as his mother didn't believe the internet was come to stay. She didn't bother to learn all about it, as it would disappear soon anyway. His mom hadn't believed in mobile phones or CDs or flat screens neither. That technology couldn't compete with real phones and LP's and the good old Panzerschiff Pontempkin TV sets. Gio loved his mom.
He should have logged off after sending that mail to his mother. But Gio was just human. He found the gionistas. Surely they couldn't be talking about him on Christmas Day.
They were.
And they were discussing the sister of SandwichGirl's, who was celebrating Christmas in Paris with her boss. The heading hit him in the gut like a wellington, and he couldn't stop the first tears.
"My sister slept with her boss."
The whole saga was displayed over five pages. Still no follow up from Hilda – Sandwich Girl after the first few. Gio didn't need an update. He could visualize what had happened.
This was it.
Finally. At long last he got it. No hope. No hope at all.
"Some Christmas present!" he mumbled and logged off. He would not visit the gionistas in the near future. No need to. He had to move on.
Chapter 14. The Prince and the Maiden, a fan fic by GirlNextDoor
It was a post from the infamous board that got her started writing.
GioRomance: "Hey,listen up Gionistas! I urge you to get over to and check out the HK fics. If you haven't seen it – Woostersauce has set up a community for Gio fics there and there are lotsof stories. But like Licia says we always need MORE. Now is the time to check it out.
Since we got the verified Gio sightings with that tall blonde Swedish girls that looks like an actress the fanfic productivity has gone through the roof. And some are hot…sizzling hot and spicy!"
So Betty checked them out and blushed, soles to hair roots. She bravely read it all. And , , did she blush even more!
They were hot. Too hot and too spicy. They didn't cover her emotions at all. He had to feel awkward over all this. He wasn't at all the guy they made him out to be. He was a very private guy. Not promiscuous as – the writers obviously wanted him to be. He was a little shy. He was no trouble maker even if he had said what he thought after having been provoked on that silly, silly TV show. In real life he was well spoken, he thought things through before he spoke them. He followed his heart. Oh sweet Coco Chanel, did he follow his heart!
She had blown everything. He would never want to talk to her again, and he was in his right to feel that way. He had moved on. He had that bright, super intelligent, movie star beautiful girlfriend with a degree. Anna. Gio and Anna. That was a song title. Frank Sinatra could have done a song named that. They were classic. Two beautiful people. Chemistry at work. Boy meets Girl. True Love. And all that taking place on the South Pole! They'd get such headlines, they'd beat any other Big News Story; the assassination of JFK, Brad Pitt marrying Angelina Jolie, Barack Obama speaking to the people in Chicago as he knew he was elected president. Gio and Anna were that kind of news.
Besides it wasn't like she would be able to talk to him the next months. The Gionistas seemed to know he wouldn't be home any time soon. February could have been a light year away. She couldn't phone him and ask him out for a vanilla latte or whatever. She couldn't spill her heart out over a café table.
But he had at least once visited this forum. If the universe was totally against her, he'd been here lately as well – and he'd seen Hilda's "My sister slept with her boss"-thread. Fact is, he could return. She clung to that very fact. And she could leave a pattern he knew was hers – and she could only hope he followed. As Betty would really want to tell him how she felt – just now. About him. About everything.
"Once upon a time there was a prince who saved a young maiden from humiliation and loneliness. Let us call him Gio. Gio is a nice name. It suits him. Even princes sometimes find titles annoying and want to be like everybody else. Let us allow him this luxury we all take for granted. This prince came from the Land of Kitchens. He had a special talent with food and he loved to cook and see how his delicate dishes could make people happy.
Let us not speak her name out loud. It is better if we leave her covered up by a veil of anonymity. Let us just call her the Maiden. She was a very young and very confused woman, far younger than her years. She was very clumsy rag doll in a world inhabited by porcelain collectibles. She didn't need to open her eyes to know she didn't fit in. She had never fit in – and she desperately wanted to belong, to be envied, to be looked up to, to be loved and admired. She had always said she was content with what was second best, as she knew she wasn't a top league girl. She never cast a glance at the top notch guys. Why would she? Why bother? They didn't see her? In fact she was scared they would see her, as she didn't know how to handle the pretty people.
As everybody thought she was different and strange, she made herself even more different. She dressed as if she were color blind, she refused to change anything for the better, she put on makeup with one eye closed, and as she saw little without glasses, it didn't really matter much anyway. She was used to seeing herself as a defect doll, as ugly – and she was used to the reactions that caused. At least she got some attention, an attention warmed, no matter which wrapping it came in.
The prince had grown up in exile, estranged from his kingdom. He had in fact grown up in the Maiden's neighborhood. Everybody knew him as Gio. Cool Gio. The rascal kid. The naughty boy with an attitude. The girl magnet. But somewhere along the road he had grown up and become Gio, the man with the big heart.
The Maiden didn't know this. She was a very foolish girl.
They met by accident. They looked at each other and the air sparkled and sizzled. The Maiden picked a fight with him, because he confused her. He was charming and handsome, and even if she recognized something familiar in him, she didn't dare believe he was anything more than a pretty face and a great body and that smooth tongue that turned her dizzy and flushed and seduced her and scared the hell out of her. She didn't believe he truly saw her and liked what he saw.
How could he?
Fate or pure luck or the angels of heaven must have thought they had something special, as by accident they ran into each other all the time. Gio joked, and the Maiden laughed. How could she not?
There came a day when they had to agree they were friends. The Maiden liked that. She didn't have many friends. She had problems trusting people. It was hard for her to believe that someone liked her. Throughout the years people had always liked everybody else better than they had liked her. The girls at school were all prettier than her, they understood the social rules, they understood the boys – they were popular, and the Maiden knew she wasn't like them. Her sister was prettier than her. She went out with boys and was popular, and the Maiden knew she was nothing like her sister.
The Maiden was way into her twenties before she had a boyfriend. He was the first boy to ever look at her, and the Maiden was overjoyed. Finally a boy saw her. He liked her. And she liked that he liked her. She liked that so much that she told herself she was in love with him. He maybe wasn't the handsome prince she had visualized in her dreams, but when she looked at her image in the mirror, she could see that she wasn't prettier than him. They came from the same league. She told herself she was happy. And maybe she was.
Then she met the White Knight. He was a picture, but she didn't fall for his shining armor or his well toned six pack, broad shoulders or muscular chest. She didn't fall for his handsome face or wide smile. She fell for his kindness, for his shyness, for his nerdy clumsiness, for his insecurity that mirrored hers. She fell for his thousand ways of showing her he adored her. The White Knight was a doll man, a boy captured in the most gorgeous body any young maiden could imagine her longing body pressed up against. The Maiden loved just looking at him. She loved dreaming of him. She loved how he would wrap her up in his arms and they would hold hands and stumble forward in life, they would try to reach farther than none of them dared go alone. The Maiden needed the White Knight, and the White Knight needed her. They were two halves that made a whole.
It was perfect.
The Maiden often told the Prince how perfect her White Knight was, how perfect the love they shared was, and she never realized the sadness in Prince Gio's eyes when she spoke of her one true love. Gio listened. He made her baguettes the way he thought she should have them. He made her baguettes the way she wanted them. He made her black and white cookies, and he listened. He always listened, and she took that for granted.
Then the Evil Witch arrived. She wasn't just any witch. She needn't cast a spell over the White Knight. All she had to do was look at him with big blue eyes and tell him she carried his child under her heart.
Oh, the Knight, he was so eager to do what was right. He wanted to do right by the Maiden, and he wanted to do right by his unborn child, and he wanted to do right by the Evil Witch, who happened to be his former sweetheart.
The Prince celebrated the Maiden's 24th birthday with her. I was meant to be her best day ever. She had planned it down to every last detail – but the White Knight, who was supposed to celebrate with her, was lured away by the Witch. She wouldn't allow him to leave her. It could have been the saddest moment of the Maiden's life hadn't the good hearted Prince turned up with his horse and carriage. He gave the Maiden his affection, he gave her fireworks, and she was safe and relaxed – but the stars Gio thought he saw reflected in her eyes, weren't the same stars reflected in his. She didn't even see his love and concern. She saw the friend.
The Maiden had never had two suitors before. She just didn't understand what happened. She wasn't prepared for this affection, for the emotions that turned her life upside down. She had never known feelings so deep, so passionate, so tempting – so scary.
The Maiden was a good person. She tried to be just as kind as the Knight. She tried to like the Witch, but they had nothing but the Knight in common. He loved his son as the Maiden knew he would. She saw what a great father he would be, given the chance. Still he bent down on his knees and offered her a ring and his heart. The Maiden was tempted, but in her heart she knew she didn't love him the way she was meant to love the man who was right for her; the one, the guy, her prince.
All this time Gio was the Maiden's rock. He let her lean against him, he listened to her. He cheered her up. He joked and made her smile. He persuaded her to try new things. The Maiden wasn't known to be a risk taker, but Gio challenged her and the Maiden found herself leaping into the wide world – and enjoying it.
She broke with the White Knight. She couldn't be his one. The life he was offering the Maiden, wasn't the life she had imagined for herself. There was so much undone ahead of her. Gio had opened all doors and pointed at the possibilities waiting for her – in all directions. She adored him for his gentleness. She adored him for his sense of humor, for his seriousness, for his passion and for his friendship. She told him everything.
And then the Prince kissed her.
It's never like that in real fairytales. It's the Princess – or the young Maiden, who kisses a frog, and the frog transforms into a dashing Prince who sweeps the Maiden off her feet into a whirlwind romance that not even the gossip magazines manage to track before they're off on a honeymoon to the Caribbean or Tahiti or the Maldives.
The Prince kissed the young Maiden. He took her completely by surprise, and she turned into – a frog. Not that you could see her transformation, but her heart somehow changed.
The Maiden hadn't thought of Gio as a Prince, she certainly hadn't thought of him as her Prince of Hearts. The possibility scared her. Being with Gio meant having no places to hide. She would have to face all her insecurities, all her fears. She would have to boldly challenge every day and squeeze the most out of it, and that wasn't how she was used to live. She was careful. She didn't want to jump in on deep water. She didn't want to risk everything before she knew the outcome. She didn't want to be hurt, and giving too much of yourself meant taking the risk of being hurt.
He should have dealt with her fear, but he asked for it all.
He wanted her. He wanted her whole heart. The rest of her life. He called her his one. He offered her his heart. He asked for too much. He wanted to sweep her away from everything safe and take her on the travel of her life. Just the two of them. He was willing to trust her. She didn't dare to trust him. She didn't understand the strength of his passion. She couldn't understand what he saw in her. Why was he willing to settle with her? How could she care for a man who didn't want anyone better than her? What was wrong with him?
The Maiden told him she didn't feel the same way about him. She didn't love him. She told him to go on his travel alone, and he did. And she went on her travel – and she didn't miss him, as her days were filled with fantastic adventures. She challenged herself, she challenged her own fears, she climbed mountains she hadn't known existed.
She slowly started to feel – not beautiful, but pretty.
Slowly she started to feel she deserved the best. She wanted a Prince, and as she still was a very ignorant young Maiden of little life experience, she didn't understand she had already met a real Prince. She started looking for Princes in the limelight, on the red carpet, in fancy restaurants and clubs, on stage and in newspaper gossip columns.
She wanted a Someone. A Someone whose light could shine all over her and make the beautiful people look at her and envy her and recognize her.
She thought he maybe was an aspiring artist with an extraordinary talent, but she was wrong. He didn't see her as she was, and she was blinded by who he wanted to be. It wasn't True Love. He wasn't the One. He wasn't her Prince.
She thought he maybe was a successful businessman who knew all the rules of the world and could buy everything he wanted. He was gentle and sweet and she knew him better than most people. He was handsome and charming and possessed many of the qualities she knew her Prince had to have. He treated her like a princess, and she for a moment saw that princess in the mirror, but when he kissed her, when he held her in his arms and made love to her, she didn't remain this princess. She still had that frog heart beating in her chest, and she slowly realized that neither fame nor wealth could give her what she longed for and needed.
She allowed herself to remember the many moments with Gio. She remembered how he made her feel – and she had grown up enough to understand she had never been more herself than with him. At the time she had not understood the importance of feeling at ease with another person. She had not valued the conversations they had had. She had not seen how he slowly made her dare more, how she thrived in his company, how she cared less about other people's opinions when he was around. She hadn't seen that he helped her become independent.
She recalled every moment spent with him, and every time she looked back, she unclad yet another detail. His royal stature shone through. The young Maiden realized the Prince had walked by her side in many of her darkest moments. He had saved her from humiliation, he had teased her, he had comforted her – and he had loved her.
Why had she not seen him as he was?
She had made up her mind about him – she had seen the uncertified cook with no aspirations, no real future. She had seen his jeans and tees and leather jackets and decided his dress code was too humble for her Prince. She wanted a suit and tie-guy. She wanted a guy with an office or a name people she didn't know would be impressed by. She wanted to be the wife of. That was her innermost daydream.
The Maiden was ashamed. She told everybody she was competent and wanted a career and that she was a modern girl, but her infantile fantasies were all about being a kept woman.
The Maiden grew up overnight.
She had kissed enough frogs.
At last she knew the identity of her Prince.
This is a fairy tale with no happy ending. There will be no '…and they lived happily ever after…'"
She uploaded the story without spell checking. She published it and logged out. Betty wasn't sure, but she believed she had just started her writing career.