This is the slowest I've ever written, but it's so therapeutic. Still, I think I've strung you guys along far enough.
Nathalie's Resolution
Part 11
By: I Write Big
"Are you alright?" Mrs. Agreste asked.
Nathalie clenched her fingers around her phone so hard the plastic groaned in protest. The day had started out so well. It had taken Nathalie the entire night to get the lapels of the dress suit just right. Every time Nathalie thought she was done, she would find another detail that could be improved a little more. By morning, she was exhausted and still not satisfied. Now that her model wore the outfit, Nathalie realized the only thing that was missing was the beautiful woman it was meant for.
But as she admired her work, her phone began to rumble with 'Mom' blazing across its screen. That sickening combination of guilt and denial that she had come to call the doubts sunk their claws in and asked her why she didn't pick up. She threw back that she hadn't succeeded yet. She'd come close but she needed to go just a bit further to make mom and dad proud. Mrs. Agreste's film projects were spread too thinly over the years, lasting less than a month and then not picking up again until the end of summer. It was maddening for a workaholic like Nathalie. She tried her hand at networking in the film business, hoping to find another outlet. Contacts were gathered, promises were made, but nothing came of them.
Just a little longer, Nathalie would tell herself. I need more time. I'm almost there and when I get there I'll tell mom and dad and Dumitru and Elena and—
She got a text.
"Nathalie?" Mrs. Agreste stepped closer.
Four words from Dumitru. With them, Nathalie felt a phantom pat the top of her head.
"What's wrong?" the beautiful woman whispered.
'Dad died. Call mom.'
"Everything is fine," Nathalie said quickly, slipping the phone into her pocket. Her face was solid as stone, professional, not a smile nor a frown. This was the workplace. This was her boss. A gentle hand draped over Nathalie's shoulder and she flinched. She looked into Mrs. Agreste's eyes and saw her mom. Was it a character? No. This was Emilie Agreste, the woman whose beauty inspired her beyond measure, the woman who gave her a chance when no one else in Paris would, the woman... who was just like her mom. She was supportive, caring, and wanted desperately to be Nathalie's friend. Did Nathalie realize she had devoted so many of her nights to appeasing a proxy mom? On some level maybe, but, on the surface, it came out as admiration. Would her real mom praise her as highly as Mrs. Agreste? That was the question. And, honestly, Nathalie was too scared to find out.
"Everything is fine," Nathalie repeated.
There was a knock at the trailer door. "Mrs. Agreste, we're ready for you on set," a voice on the other side said.
"Coming," Mrs. Agreste responded without looking away from Nathalie. Nathalie felt like she was being visually dissected again. This time she was ready. The mask held and Mrs. Agreste eventually stopped, having gained nothing. "I know something's wrong," she finally said. "Stay here, take a minute, and when I get back we can talk about it. Okay?"
"Mrs. Agreste, there's nothing wr—"
"Promise me."
"I promise… Emilie."
Mrs. Agreste grabbed her black umbrella and left the trailer. Nathalie waited for her legs to give out, for her tears to run black rivers, for her throat to choke with sobs, for her heart to shatter like fragile glass. She was alone now, it was okay. None of that happened. Nathalie stood on solid legs. Her face remained dry. Her throat didn't make a sound. Her heart kept beating. If a doctor had given Nathalie a physical right then and there, they'd have let Nathalie go with a clean bill of health. She had been right. Everything was fine. And that terrified her.
Nathalie stormed to the vanity mirror that Mrs. Agreste had used earlier and roared at her reflection. "What the hell is wrong with you? Cry, dammit! Your dad is dead! Cry!" She recalled how her dad tucked her into bed. She recalled the bedtime stories. She recalled the warmth of his large callused hand holding her tiny soft hand as they walked along the cobblestone of Oldtown. She felt a twinge in her chest, a sliver of ice cutting its way in. It held there for less than a minute and then disappeared. That was it.
"Mom, I'm sorry."
Nathalie recoiled. Her legs gave out at last, but for the wrong reasons. Those words had been empty. The woman in the mirror was broken. Her emotions were bottled up and buried so deep that she didn't have a hope to find them. She couldn't call mom like this. Not like this. She couldn't shed a tear. She couldn't even cry for her family. What was wrong with her?
The trailer door opened and little Natalia poked her head inside. "Come on," she said.
Nathalie gravely rose to her feet, she remembered this part. Her steps echoing loudly around her, Nathalie stepped into the sunlight and looked down at the gurgling Seine. The rest of the crew were gathered further down the riverbank. At the center, the director was huddled with Mrs. Agreste. Perhaps the angle of the stone walls bounced his voice perfectly because Nathalie heard his words as if he had murmured them into her ear.
"Smile like you would at someone you loved who you are letting go."
Mrs. Agreste nodded and opened the black umbrella. The director called for silence and the clapper stepped forward to mark the next take of 'SOLITUDE'. There was a distant yell of "Action!" and Mrs. Agreste turned away from the camera. Solemnly, she paced forward, an air of contemplation with every step. A hand stretched beyond the umbrella's reach in search for the rain that was no longer there. She paused as if she heard something and slowly looked over her shoulder. Her eyes locked with Nathalie and there was a moment of shock before it melted to a complacent smile.
Nathalie recognized her. This was the hopeless romantic character and, in this shot, Nathalie had become her lover. She had been described as, "the teenager who never grew up," by Mrs. Agreste. "She clings to the fantasy that there will come a day where she will be swept off her feet by her one true prince… or princess." That last part was always added with a wink. Nathalie knew her as the character whose tell was in her fingers, they always traced her forearm when she was lying.
The smile said, 'You are free. There is nothing keeping you here.'
Mrs. Agreste screamed, 'Wait! Don't! You promised!'
Nathalie wanted to run forward, embrace Mrs. Agreste, call her Emilie, tell her everything, and cry, dear God did she want to cry. But the past could not be changed. She took Natalia's hand and walked away.
"Why couldn't I cry?" Nathalie asked.
Natalia shrugged. "Sometimes it's too painful."
"Crying?"
"Life."
Nathalie turned over and got a glaring blast of sun. She shielded herself, rubbing her eyes, and found tears. That hadn't been a dream, per se, more of a daydream. After leaving her message, Nathalie had laid awake in the driver's seat for what felt like hours, waiting for Adrien to call her back. Memories drifted in like clouds and the one shaped like that text from Dumitru took hold. How Natalia got in there is anybody's guess. Still, it was an important memory. Nathalie could argue it was the moment she had given up. She wandered off that set until she wound up at the Agreste Manor. Inside, Nathalie had requested that Mr. Agreste transfer her to full-time personal assistant duties under his supervision. She no longer wished to work with Mrs. Agreste. The man had been surprised, to say the least. Every attempt he made to ask why she dodged with keen expertise. Eventually, he agreed.
For the next few years, Nathalie had quietly sat at her desk, typing forms, scheduling meetings, taking calls, all while avoiding Mrs. Agreste. She couldn't bear to be in the same room with the beautiful woman anymore. When she did, Nathalie only saw her mom and the tears that would never come. Of course, Adrien-Duty remained a part of Nathalie's job description. With each passing day, the boy grew taller. Each week, Adrien seemed to take another of her lessons in manners and personal fashion to heart.
The first time Adrien had said, "Thank you, Nathalie," without being told to, something had swelled inside her. It took a considerable amount of effort to keep the corners of Nathalie's mouth from rising, but she managed. Adrien grew to be a polite and compassionate young man and Nathalie soon put a name to that swell. She was proud.
Then Mrs. Agreste vanished...
Nathalie started the truck. The engine turned over with metallic crank! Before she started driving, she checked her phone one last time. No calls. That was fine.
She had made him wait. Adrien had the right to make Nathalie wait for as long as he wanted.
The photoshoot finished without a hitch, despite the delay. The photographer commended Adrien for his work and wished the boy would feel better soon. As Adrien climbed into his limo, he noticed to his relief that his phone was dead. Emilie noticed too and offered to let him use her charger. He quickly declined. No phone meant no worries.
"Could we take the long way home?" Adrien asked.
The Gorilla looked at Emilie in the rearview and she nodded. He steered the limo towards the Seine. The sight of the river made Adrien think of 'SOLITUDE,' since there was supposed to be an amazing scene from that movie that was filmed on the banks. Comments on the film's page had praised his mother's performance in that scene. "Chilling!" they had said. "It has to be seen to be believed!" Adrien wanted to see. Finding a copy of that movie, however, proved to be impossible. 'SOLITUDE' wasn't being sold at any store and not even the most devoted film collectors had a copy. Someone had bought them all. There was a silver lining, though. Adrien found a screening in a theater downtown, one day only, but it wouldn't happen for a couple more months. Adrien immediately bought a ticket. Only then had he finally been able to sleep. Too bad his efforts had drained his phone.
"Stop," Emilie said.
The limo pulled over. Adrien looked at Emilie curiously, "What is it?"
"We have about an hour to spare, Adrien," she said and pointed out the window. Adrien followed her finger and saw they were next to a small park. At one of the tables, laughing loudly, were Nino, Alya, and Marinette. "How about you spend it with them?"
Adrien couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Really? But father—"
"Would agree that his son needs time with his friends," Emilie finished smugly. "Go on. We'll pick you up later."
Not daring to ask a second time, Adrien hugged her tightly. "Thank you!" The boy sprinted into the park, a toothy grin on his face. Emilie watched him wave to his friends who were quite happy to see him, especially Marinette. Emilie noted with a chuckle how the girl kept trying to hide her blush.
"Um, Mr. Agreste would agree, right?" Emilie asked the Gorilla with a touch of nervousness.
The Gorilla firmly shook his head no and drove.
Nathalie pulled into the lighted driveway as the sunset began. The drive back had somehow felt longer. It might have had to do with her phone. Every mile or so she'd glance at it, make sure it had reception, battery, wi-fi. All tip top shape. No calls.
Thunk
That might have been the reason or it might have been the dread of coming back to the empty cottage. The place had more in common with a mausoleum than a home. It was quiet, deserted, and borderline haunted with mom's incessant creak. Day in and day out. What the hell was making that noise anyway?
Thunk
Nathalie turned off the engine and checked the online sales. Less than 24 hours and the orders were still coming in. She'd have to check with Nicolae to see how much supply he had. While his boutique was large, it was no sweatshop. The man had a limit and that meant Nathalie had to put a cap on how many scarves she could sell.
Thunk
Nathalie snickered. It was sort of ironic. She couldn't sell a dress for a decade because nobody wanted one and now she couldn't sell a scarf because too many people wanted them. Nathalie figured she should head to Bucharest now and ask Nicolae personally. Putting it off until tomorrow may be pushing her luck.
…
Nathalie paused. Her hand had frozen halfway towards the keys that still hung in the ignition. Something was missing. The very thought was ridiculous. Her phone was still in her other hand. The sample sat on the passenger seat. She had only left this truck to enter Mihaela's office. Did she leave something there?
Tap-tap
They came from Nathalie's window, two of the faintest knocks near her head. A shadow was cast across her lap. Before she could stop herself, she looked. Framed by the amber sun was the silhouette of a woman and, for a brief soul-tearing second, Nathalie thought it was Mrs. Agreste.
This isn't fair, Nathalie thought. I can't see her face. Why did she get to see me first?
"Natalia, is that you?" her mom asked.
END
Happy Mother's Day
