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Sitting at the small desk in the bedroom of his family's home, Antoine opened his journal as he had almost every night for as far back as he could remember.
Where to start? I want to start at the end, but then when I look back, I will have missed all that has happened. And what if when that time comes, I can no longer remember the details of my life? Of course, I don't like to think that would ever happen to me, but who knows? Surely not this fool. So, let me start from the time I opened my eyes this morning and my feet hit the floor.
After not sleeping and having had a bit too much of the hard stuff to drink the previous night, I left my bedroom and headed for the bathroom without really seeing anything in my path. A shower and a strong cup of coffee were the only things my body would allow my mind to dwell on. I had never realized how long that damn hallway was before. Finally, I made it to my destination and reached for the doorknob, only to have the door yanked open from the other side. I stood there, staring into the soft purple depth of Leandra's beautiful eyes.
It was like a knife in my heart that she wouldn't even speak to me. The brief moment that she had looked upon me was a long enough time to know that just the sight of me made her sick. She brushed by me without so much as a word, running down the hall to escape me as though I was the vilest creature on earth. Well, wasn't I? And Mère and Sophie had been wrong. Seeing me made little difference to Leandra. She still hated me.
After a shower and two cups of strong coffee, I readied myself for the festival. It was very early, but activity outside had already begun. It would be rude if I did not make an appearance. The people attending were not only those who work for my parents, but the majority of them have been lifelong friends. I am actually looking forward to seeing them. If only things were with Leandra as they were before my parent's argument.
Making my way to the courtyard, I encountered a blur of activity. Tables were set up in several areas and every one was covered end to end with a variety of food dishes. To my right was an extremely large wooded vat. I looked upon it with amusement, not quite believing they still performed that old custom. A band was setting up at the far end of the courtyard. Music would make the party lively.
My breath caught in my throat when I spied Leandra some distance away. She stood with Sophie and a few of her friends. She looked so beautiful in the simple powder blue dress she wore. Although the conversation appeared pleasant and even a little animated, Leandra did not appear as though her heart was in it. Even through the distance, I could detect the pain in her lovely eyes.
It was a dance of sorts, some bizarre two-step, or perverted waltz. If I moved, she would move, and we circled the entire area without meeting once. I suppose it was better that way, for her, anyway. I wanted to haul her off to a quiet place and hold her until she surrendered. How cavemanish of me, eh?
Hours passed, food was eaten, wine and champagne consumed. The band played merrily and people danced in every part of the courtyard that did not contain a table or chair. Mère and Père were having a grand time. At this point, I must say that my jealousy was getting the better of me. Leandra was highly sought after by the single men. If it were a time that women carried dance cards, hers would be full. And not one dance would be for me. It literally tore my heart out to watch her dance with them. The only thing that kept me from going insane was the look in her eyes. Although she appeared to be having the time of her life, it was not reflected in her amethyst eyes. They were still shadowed in pain. I saw that each and every time her eyes fell upon me. She had danced six dances in rapid succession and it was about that time that Père announced it was time for the traditional stomping of the grapes.
My eyes immediately sought Leandra and I was not surprised to see Sophie dragging her off to the oversized wooden vat. Leandra, of course, had no idea of the tradition. I moved closer to the vat and could hear Sophie explaining that all the single women joined in for the stomping of the first grapes of the season that were harvested. Leandra protested, but Sophie insisted that it was tradition and if she refused, bad luck would fall upon that season's crop. Leandra resigned herself to her fate and allowed the young boys who had hauled the enormous amounts of grapes to the vat to help her off with her sandals.
I watched with fascination as she was helped into the vat. Her eyes reflected her amusement as she stepped slowly, squashing the small rounded fruit beneath her feet. Soon, she was laughing and giggling along with Sophie. They held each other's hands as they jumped and stomped, laughed and danced. It was as though through mashing the grapes, she had worked out her demons and she was free. Free to do as she pleased. If only that meant she could forgive me.
As the next set of women stepped up to the vat to take the place of those who were leaving it, I moved even closer, with the intention of helping Leandra down. However, I was thwarted when Philippe stepped up and swept her into his arms and carried her to a chair. It was also tradition that a man who wished to spend the remainder of the festival with a woman who helped stomp the grapes would go to that woman and clean her feet of the sticky juice. It seemed as though the tall, dark, and handsome Philippe wanted that distinction with my Leandra. After settling Leandra, Philippe stood and went off to retrieve a bowl of water and a towel. I didn't think I could watch any longer and as I turned to leave the courtyard, I felt something thrust into my midriff. I looked down when I felt liquid sloshing onto my arms. Water, in a large wooden bowl. I looked up into Père's amused eyes as he handed me a towel. He nodded toward Leandra and gave me a gentle push. That was all the encouragement I needed.
Just as I neared her, I noticed a slight ruckus going on behind her. Mère had somehow collided with Philippe, spilling the water from the bowl he held. Mère was laughing helplessly, however, Philippe did not seem the least bit amused. Too bad for him. Leandra was looking down at her sticky feet when I approached and knelt before her. I don't think she realized it was me, at least, not until I touched her. When I lifted her foot and placed it into the bowl, she gasped slightly at the contact of my fingers. I looked up into her eyes. She sighed softly, but didn't pull away from me. "I was a different man then, Leandra," I told her quietly. She listened without speaking when I explained that although I had once sold myself to women, I was no longer in that game. I told her how utterly sorry I was that she had been hurt and that she found out the way that she had. I also explained to her that if she could find it in her to give me another chance, I would do my best to make it up to her. After washing the grape juices from her feet, I dried them and helped her back into her sandals. I stood, bringing her up with me. For the longest moment, we just looked at each other, each trying to mentally read the other. What I wouldn't give to know her thoughts at that moment, but the only thing she said to me was a polite thank you and then she disappeared into the house.
Of course, I followed her, but as it was the day before, she had closed herself off and hid behind her bedroom door. When I called to her, she only said that it had been a busy, active day and she needed rest. One other thing she did say. She would be ready to leave for Paris in the morning.
Leave. She was going to leave. I hated to think about it, but there was little I could do. She had made up her mind and no matter what I might say, she could not forgive me for being the man I had once been. As much as I might want to, I could not change my past. If she could not accept it, then so be it. I had no choice but to let her go.
I helped close the party down, move furniture, and put things away. The hour was very late and I was exhausted to the point that I could sleep no matter what weighed on my mind. For that, I was grateful. So tired, I entered my darkened room and did not bother with the light. I stripped down to nothing and climbed into bed. When I contacted the velvety smoothness of female skin, I was shocked, to say the least. I reached for the bedside lamp and switched it on. What I saw when the light came on was Leandra staring up at me, smiling invitingly, lying perfectly nude beneath the blankets. She had come to me. She wanted me. Tears stung my eyes when she whispered three words. "I love you." Three words said it all and healed my soul. I assured her that I loved her in return and that if she could find it in herself to give me the chance, I would spend the rest of my life proving it to her.
If this has happened today, I'm sure you are wondering why I'm taking the time to write this now. It has happened and at this moment, my beautiful Leandra is sleeping peacefully after hours of lovemaking. I wanted to write this down while it was fresh in my mind, because I did not want to take the chance of forgetting and miss recording this wonderful day.
I think my life began today. I want to say that it will only get better. I shall endeavor to learn and grow as I join the family business. I pray that Leandra will also join the family...I can see her as my wife, something I've never given thought to before. Perhaps, my life began that day at the Louvre. Yes, I believe it did. That was the day I began to dream. Champagne Dreams.
His journal closed, he padded quietly back to his bed and slid between the sheets. His ladylove snuggled against him, pillowing her head against his chest. His arms enveloped her lovingly. "Sweet dreams, Leandra," he whispered, before drifting off into his own sweet dreams.
~finis~