Chapter 3 – Hidden Meanings
(Sc. 1)
"I can't believe we're no longer going to school together starting next week," are the words along with a downcast sigh from Briony's co-worker and best friend, whose short chestnut brown bob is darker than her chestnut brown lob. "But you're not going to that school on your first day without, at least, a lip tint!"
Briony has to cover both her ears when her best friend in every season of her life, Eunice Martin, exclaims in what seems like a willful stance. Mrs. Robson's Donuts in the neighborhood of Astoria, where the two work part-time after school and full-time during the summer, is not a large space at all—with only three small, round tables, each paired with two chairs, allowed inside. That's why every school issue that these two girls try to solve behind the counter is conveniently absorbed by their baker, Diego Morales, who's just in the kitchen experimenting and fashioning donuts in batches. Although Briony has always trusted her best friend's opinion, especially when it comes to her decisions about getting other sideline jobs at events, saving money and being practical, getting beauty advices from her, while not the first time, still feels quite unorthodox.
"Oh, ha ha," Eunice shyly titters as she hands over the change across the cashier counter to the old, female customer, who's just staring at her without any facial expression. She has just realized there's a customer waiting for her money back. A complete shift from her commanding presence earlier, now with a graceful, almost whispery tone, she says to the old lady, "Your change, ma'am. Enjoy your donuts."
"Thank you for purchasing Mrs. Robson's Donuts!" Briony awkwardly smiles as she gives the small pink box of four donuts, nicely tied with a white ribbon, from the other end of the counter to the same customer. "We hope to see you again soon!"
The second the snobbish, old lady is gone, "And you need a new pair of shoes!"
Briony jolts, feeling the strength from Eunice's voice as though it has a physical impact on her body. She thought that conversation was already over but was mistaken. "If you were a super hero, I'd be in a coma right now because of the kind of soundwave emitted from your voice."
"Funny!" that sarcastic tone and reaction Eunice always makes when her best friend is being stubborn. "Come on, I'm serious, Bry… They don't call it The Sanctuary in French for no reason. I could almost picture it as a place where students only eat croissants and purple-colored French macaroons…while jotting down historical facts and someone is playing the violin in the background!"
"What?" Briony is so surprised by such description that she ends up looking clueless and almost disgusted that a place could exist for students. "Do they look like the Olympians to you?"
"Funny again!" Then Eunice further adds, "And each one of you has a wooden desk…and sitting on this gorgeous, gilded chair… You all have these classes in huge classrooms filled with Baroque and Rococo wall designs—oh come on!"
Briony's expression of disbelief with a pinch of the yuck factor continues on and Eunice can't handle it that she herself snaps out of her daydream while also encouraging her dear friend to find it amazing like she does.
But moreover, that what's happening and what's going to happen to Briony starting next Monday will be amazing.
"I bet this Mrs. Mary Finlay person, who gave you this opportunity, will have the same opinion as mine. You want to know why?"
"Why?"
"Because she's obviously from that world, too! And like you, I'm not either, but take it from someone who's had his share of the posh life that was specifically curated for the Manhattanites."
Confused, Briony asks Eunice, through the use of facial expression, who she is talking about.
And Eunice answers a surprised, You-Don't-Remember question in the same manner.
And Briony remembers, in the same instant that the person they're talking about departs from the kitchen to show them a new batch of freshly baked cinnamon-flavored donuts.
"Hmm, the smell of comfort and kindness all in one," Diego says but his stirring of satisfaction is cut short when he finds the two girls at the counter staring at him curiously.
(Sc. 2)
Howard arrives in front of Hotel Le Bristol, in the 8th arrondissement, under the afternoon sun. He, along with Aldryn and Sjon, has a week before returning to school and he shall cherish it, as per advice. This is a first for them four; it makes him feel like something else is going to happen.
Still holding the book that he was reading earlier at Ritz Paris, his smile is undeniable.
Furnished with aristocratic carpet design, gold-plated lamps, heavy curtains and finely sculpted wooden chairs, Howard walks down a corridor like he is back in Central Park. It is without effort that Howard can still look at peace in his walk even when angry, worried…or excited. While most people find it stylish, pleasing to the eyes, to him it is second nature. Although back then as a child, he wouldn't even get out of his room, not without crying. Not without [her] company.
Then, something stops him. A Marie Claire magazine resting on one of the chairs.
He browses through it and not more than five pages, he finds her. Two pages all to herself, clothed with a stunning light grey Versace gown. And that puts a smile on his face. Not the weird kind of smile this time. He can't fathom it but it's as though he's just coming to see an old friend and have her check his homework like back in the day.
Soon, he finds himself standing in front of a suite's door, Howard checks the time on his Rolex Submariner. It's roughly 2 o'clock. He only had four hours of sleep back at Ritz. About to knock on the door, he recalls that this is not just to surprise her. It's a rare chance to see her face again. He takes out his cell phone and searches for a name in his contacts.
Charmaine Nicols.
He presses 'call' and after four rings…
"How!" a girl's charming voice answers, sounding thrilled and surprised altogether.
"Please open your door, you've got a delivery."
After a quick pause, Charmaine is completely in disbelief, "Oh no, you didn't! Are you standing outside?"
Howard giggles, which almost never happens, except with her, then he hears her walking—heading for the door to test her theory.
"Hurry, Maine."
He hears her opening the door but the door before him remains closed. His forehead wrinkles in puzzlement.
"How, where are you?" confused, she asks.
"I'm outside your door."
"I'm outside my door! Oh no…"
"Where are you?" confused, Howard is about to knock but then sees someone in his peripheral but without completely looking, he says, "Bonjour…"
"Bonjour, monsieur!" a girl's voice with a French accent is heard. "Are you Ms. Nichol's friend?"
Howard sees that it's a young, blonde hotel maid, actually quite young that she just might be his age. She's holding three folded white towels.
"Oui, mademoiselle," he tells her as he looks straight into her eyes.
"B-but she is not here, m-monsieur" with a shy smile, unable to fully look back at him, she begins to struggle in Howard's language. "She leave yesterday…to-to Italy."
"I'm in Italy right now, How!" Charmaine's voice echoes from Howard's cell phone.
"Merci pour votre aide," smiling, he tells the girl politely.
She nervously curtsies, surprising Howard—only, of course, the expression is not discernible on his face. But in that second, the girl looks stunned as well, seemed embarrassed by her own action that she leaves practically in a hurry.
"You're in Italy?" he returns to Charmaine. It is not really a questioning tone. More like an upset one.
"Is that Dominique?" Charmaine asks like she didn't hear Howard's question.
"Who?"
"The one you're talking to. I know that voice. She's a hotel maid."
"Oh—ah…she left," he hears Charmaine closing the door on the other line.
"What did you do, Howard Griffin? Did you scare her away with your charisma and good looks?" Though teasing Howard, Charmaine manages to still sound like an affectionate adult.
"What?" he feels like the one being grilled instead. Like he's the one who has made her upset. [How does she do that?]
"She's a cute one, isn't she? She's a little bit shy but she's cool, so be nice to her, okay? Anyway… YOU CAME TO VISIT! That's really sweet of you, How…"
"Except that you're in Italy," trying not to echo disappointment, Howard starts walking.
"Yes, in Milan…we have a show. You could've told me you were coming!"
"I wanted to surprise you. When they told me Paris, I said yes right away."
"Aw… Well, I'm surprised, How, and really touched. So, the boys are with you? How's everyone? I miss you guys…"
Howard shares on the phone how his three other best buddies on the planet are doing. He's certain that right now, in the streets of Paris, Sjon and Aldryn are showcasing their specialties in sweeping girls off their feet. Well, in Aldryn's case, women.
"Still the biggest playboy" as he envisions Sjon flirting with gorgeous French girls and Aldryn giving an attractive magazine writer, who's much older than him, a toying smile, "and still the biggest cub."
"Those boys… How about Derrick?"
"Somewhere between…a runaway blind date and a runaway potential fiancé?" and he visualizes his closest friend Derrick, who's back in Manhattan, lying on his huge bed in the middle of his dim two-floored bedroom. Sleeping soundly under his blanket, only the top of his dark brown undercut can be seen.
"Hm…" Charmaine's tone turns much softer now. "I'm guessing…it has something to do with the…"
"Yes, the witch, of course."
"Oh my… I really hope that the next time Derrick finds someone, she will be his match. And the option of running away is out of the question. Although I have to admit, the idea of him standing up to his mom and to anybody? For someone? It gives me a violent image."
"That's Derrick…"
"And I hope you find one, too!" Charmaine continues sunnily. "But hey. How? Remember, you have to tell me first before everyone else. Okay?"
[Tell you what? You didn't even ask me how I was doing or if I was mad.]
"I'm sure that this girl will be very interesting…"
(Sc. 3)
At a public library situated between the neighborhoods of Maspeth and Sunnyside, Briony saunters into the peaceful history section but then Diego's words start to emerge in her head again, screaming as though it is the clear winner among all descriptions given to [that] world.
[Just don't mess with anyone there whose father or mother owns a company that solved at least a twenty-million-dollar problem, and you will be fine.] Those were his exact words.
[That's a lot of money.] As the idea of that registers in her head. [Well, if people are willing to pay a lot just so this world could be different… Jeez, if I had millions, I wouldn't pay someone, I would change the world myself… Or I would build my own school. Or disappear…for a little while.]
From their earlier conversation with Diego, who's likely to be in his late 20s already, Briony remembers him saying that being a pastry chef at a famous hotel somewhere in Manhattan for three years wasn't that easy but it was fun and memorable. Refusing to say where, he added that he learned a lot and if he could only turn back time, he would go back not to his pastry chef days but to a time where he could've made decisions differently. Briony assumes he meant an earlier time in his life, probably college. Then, she remembers Eunice trying to probe some more by asking him what happened to him back then. But mysterious Diego only said, 'The amount of money you have in your pocket shouldn't dictate your kind of peace and dignity.'
Whatever he meant by that, Briony is pretty sure Diego meant more with lesser words. He's the type. And he said memorable. So something valuable must've happened, Briony figures.
[Okay. I've been offered an opportunity to change my life. I just have to focus. And work hard. And be more independent. The tuition fees have been taken care of. I just need to be wiser when it comes to earning and saving money. I can't be weak and I can't be inattentive like my parents.]
Briony pulls out a random book from her right after reaching the end of the history aisle and finds that it's a book about Greek mythology. She recalls Eunice imagining the students from The Sanctuaire as Greek gods and she giggles at the thought.
[Silly Eunice. And she actually wanted me to give lip tints a shot. Vanity, as tempting as it may sound, is just not for me. I repel it. And besides, she knows I'm not the kind to spend money for one—]
Then, a shadow.
A tall shadow from her peripheral vision towers over her. She slowly turns her head to its direction, to her right, and lets out an awkward "Can I help you?" She has to tilt her head up to see…
…his face and indiscernible facial expression. "Can you help me find a book? I'll pay you."
Briony's face lights up, her beam turns wider. [I just need to be wiser…] "Really? What kind of book?"
The guy, who seems like her age or maybe older, keeps turning his head towards the door. To Briony, it's either he's in a hurry or he's hiding from someone. He doesn't look like someone who would rob her, though, but just someone who wants to be successfully inconspicuous, wearing that dark hoodie and those pair of gray jeans and dark brown leather Chelsea shoes.
"Sailing," he plainly answers her question.
"Oh. Just a book or books about sailing? Do you have the title? Or titles?"
"Ah…books, yeah, books."
[I don't think he's high. He looks really worried.]
Briony stares a bit more while he's busy monitoring the place and what's outside of that place through the front windows, even if they're too far from him to really see anything completely. And so he doesn't realize what she's doing—observing him on the other hand.
After those seconds pass by, she finally tells him, "Hey, it's okay," as she lightly touches the tip of his left shoulder, hoping to catch his attention and that he will finally calm down any second now.
[Wow. That worked.]
His worried eyes meet her also worried gaze. Though strangers to each other, she doesn't say another word and yet he gets his act together. Gently, she says, "You don't look like you're from around here which I am. Are you—"
"No. I, uh, I need books about sailing rules and…instructions."
[I was going to ask if someone's after him.]
"How much are you charging then? A thousand bucks?"
She can't believe what she just heard. [Where is this dude from?!]
Even with his oval face yet manly features and deep blue-eyes, Briony knows that something is really wrong. Especially when he pulls his hoodie up to make his handsome, clear face less visible and to cover his effortlessly swept back, dark brown undercut.