I know I said I'd be able to write more during the summer, but what with band camp and kitchen renovations and a really bad case of writer's block, I could only manage this one chapter. I do not own the song 'Elaborate Lives' from the musical 'Aida', and I don't own those lines from 'The Lion King'. If it bugs anyone that I'm inserting Disney into Verona, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it, it was too funny to pass up.
And another month passed. Benvolio did, indeed, enroll for an evening class. And, unlike when he'd been in high school, he actually did the work he was supposed to. Marietta was home-schooled, and she convinced her tutor to let her go for lunch so she could meet with Benvolio at the theater. Bern, who went to the public high school, would cut her study hall and lunch so she could hang out at the theater too. Abra was away in Mantua for unknown reasons, so they didn't have to meet at night anymore.
Benvolio's house was flurried with plans and preparations for the Halloween masked ball his aunt and uncle were forcing his mother to throw. With the 31st just a week away, Anna had become increasingly irritable, and the men of the house were giving her a wide berth for fear of getting their heads bitten off. It didn't help that Lady Montague seemed to be glued to Anna's hip, which only made her more irritated. Benvolio was grateful that he could get out of the house and away from the "I'm-so-pissed-off" vibe his mother was sending out.
"When I'm Lord Montague, I'm never going to let my wife throw a party." Benvolio stated from where he lay sprawled on the stage. He looked up at Marietta, who was sitting beside him and eating a sandwich.
"Will I be this non-party-throwing wife?" she asked, smiling.
"I certainly hope so." He replied, sitting up and giving her a kiss. His eyes searched hers. "Come to the party." He whispered.
She blinked in surprise. "Come to the party? But--I'm a Capulet."
"It doesn't matter." He said. He placed his hand on her cheek. "Please come."
"What if someone recognizes me?" she asked worriedly.
"Wear a mask. No one will be able to tell."
"I…I don't know." She looked at her lap, avoiding his gaze.
"Please." He pulled an invitation out of his pocket and held it in front of her face. "I'll be so bored."
She stared at it. The last party she'd been to was her uncle's, before…When Juliet met Romeo. Benvolio knew that, it was the last party he'd been to as well. "I thought we didn't want to be like them." She didn't look at him.
He paused. "I know." Was his response, telling her he understood why she didn't want to go, why she had reservations, and that he felt the same. "But I still want you to come."
She met his eyes. "Are you sure no one will recognize me?"
"Well, no one if you exclude my brothers and the entertainment." He replied with a grin.
She frowned. "Who's the entertainment?"
"I am!" Bern cried from where she was sitting a few feet away. "Well, we are. Not just me."
"Your mom is letting them perform?" Marietta wondered.
"I told her about them, they came over and played a couple songs—" Benvolio began to explain.
"And now we're getting paid and on the road to stardom! Mwaha!" Bern cackled.
"My aunt's not too pleased, but Mom pretty much threatened to kill her if she opposed." Benvolio said with a nod.
"Well, I guess I have to go then." Marietta took the invitation, smiling.
"It'll be fun." They chorused.
"I'll have to practice my curtsy." she stood up and executed said curtsy.
He reached up and grabbed her hand. "My own lovely lady." He kissed her hand gently.
"My handsome gentleman." She replied.
Bern made a gagging sound. "All this love is making me sick."
She sat in her car, nervously drumming on the steering wheel. She glanced up towards the mansion, remembering the last time she waited outside his house. The day after her birthday. She frowned briefly. This was different though. She and Benvolio weren't going to be alone, hiding behind a locked door, only worried about his parents. Tonight, they would be fighting to be heard over a crowd, standing right out in the open, and this flimsy gold-painted mask was supposed to be hiding her from half of Verona.
It wasn't just that. She was never comfortable at parties. Back before…before Benvolio, she would follow Juliet as she mingled with everyone, people telling Juliet she was so grown, so beautiful, her parents must be so proud. Juliet had loved parties. She was only thirteen, when she…left, so she hadn't gone to many. For Juliet, each party was an exciting adventure. For Marietta, it was an unwanted social situation she tried to avoid at all costs. Eventually Juliet would be spirited away by her mother or someone else who wanted her attention, and Marietta would find a corner, open a book, and read. No one bothered her, or even noticed her, which was fine. It was the way she wanted it.
Sighing, Marietta got out of her car and began walking up to the gigantic front door. It had to be a block away from where she parked, so she wrestled the high heels off her feet and began to trek along barefoot. She could hear the music pumping inside, people shouting and laughing. She knew Bernadette had to be singing, but it was impossible to hear her voice. It was probably pretty impossible to hear on the inside too. Marietta lowered her mask over her eyes as the door came into view. There was a line stretching down the huge porch stairs, but it wasn't very long. It only came to the bottom of the steps. There were two men at the door, looking at invitations and checking names off the guest list. She walked past the sprawling driveway, filled with cars that valets were trying to park somewhere else.
She joined the end of the line, sitting on the bottom step to put her stupid shoes back on. She hated high heels with a furious passion. But you couldn't dress like a fairy tale princess without the proper shoes. What princess wore sneakers? Marietta smoothed the bodice of her golden yellow dress, mostly to do something with her hands. She fidgeted as she waited in line. She played with her normally straight hair that was curly for tonight, fiddled with this stupid purse that was empty except for her invitation because she knew she would lose it, trying to calm her nerves by busying her hands with trivial things.
And then she was at the front. The man motioned for her to show him her invite, which she drew out of her purse. He quickly read the words printed on it, 'Benvolio's Guest', then nodded to the other man, who made a check on his clipboard and opened the door for her to go in.
She walked in and froze. It was so packed, so crowed with people she had been told since childhood she could never associate with. The music blared louder, and she looked around and saw the stage Bern and her sisters were rocking out on. She didn't know what to do. She had half a mind to run back out the door and never come back. But then, all the way across the huge foyer, she saw him. He was sitting on the railing of the second floor, eating an apple and watching the crowd. She began to force her way through the throng of people, trying to get to him.
She finally reached the other side and was standing beneath him. "Benvolio!" she shouted as loud as she could, trying to get her voice heard over everyone else's and Bern singing. He didn't appear to hear, but then he glanced downward and saw her. He grinned, getting off the railing and running down the stairs to her. When he reached her, he caught her in his arms and spun her around.
"I'm so glad you're here!" he greeted her after putting her back down. He was dressed as a soldier from the Sixties, looking ready to head off to Vietnam. He straightened the helmet on his head and took in her costume. "Wow."
"You look very rugged." She told him.
"You look beautiful." He said it so soft she had to strain to here it over the rest of the noise. "That dress is amazing. Who're you supposed to be?"
"Belle, from Beauty and the Beast." She gave her skirt a little twirl. "She was sort of a childhood idol of mine. Who're you?"
"Mom said she was spending too much money on this stupid party already and that we would have to make our own costumes. I found this in the attic. Some relative of mine must have fought in Vietnam." He pointed at the sewed-on nametag, which displayed the name 'Montague'.
The band stopped playing and they could hear Bern say "We're taking five, but hang tight and The Storytellers will be back to play some more rockin' music."
There was a cheer and seconds later Bern appeared in a flowing black gown with lots of gauzy material draped over the shoulders. "Hey y'all." She sounded slightly hoarse. "Love the costumes."
"Who're you dressed up as?" Benvolio asked.
"I am Clotho, one of the Fates from Greek mythology." She curtsied. "I spin the thread of life. Catherine is Lachesis, who measures the thread, and Irene is Atropos, who cuts the thread."
Benvolio opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by something he saw from across the room. "Shit. Run, quickly, hide, before they see us and--" he tried to hurry the two girls away, but his brother's voices rang out.
"Ben!" Sampson and Gregory pushed through the crowd, and came up beside them.
Benvolio groaned. "Oh, great, they're going to do it."
"Hiya ladies." Sampson greeted them. He was dressed in a sandy colored shirt and khaki pants. He had a pair of brown cat ears on his head and a brown tail hanging from the back of his pants. "Lookin' fine."
"I will kill you if you touch her." Benvolio growled.
"Okay, okay, I get it, Capu--" Sampson was hurriedly shushed.
"Don't. Say. That." Benvolio looked like he was ready to murder his brother. "Or she'll get thrown out and I. Will. Kill. You."
"Who're you?" Sampson wondered, changing the subject and trying to avoid the Death Glare his brother was giving him.
"Belle." She replied.
"A Disney character!" Gregory exclaimed. "Like us!" He was dressed in dark red shirt and brown pants. He had little horns on his head and a red tail.
"Which are you?" Bern asked.
"Oh God, no, you asked." Benvolio groaned and walked away a few feet. Bern and Marietta exchanged confused looks before Sampson cleared his throat and started talking.
"I can see what's happening." He said, grinning broadly at Benvolio.
"What?" Gregory put in with a grin identical to his brother's.
"Not listening!" Benvolio cried, covering his ears.
"And they don't have a clue!" Sampson continued.
"Who?" Gregory added.
"They'll fall in love and here's the bottom line: Out trio's down to two." Sampson walked over to Benvolio and held two fingers up in front of his face. Benvolio yelled in frustration and stalked away a few more feet.
Marietta and Bern exchanged glances and giggled, knowing now exactly who Sampson and Gregory were supposed to be.
"The sweet caress of twilight. There's magic everywhere!" Sampson waved his hand wildly. "And with all this romantic atmosphere--"
"DISASTER'S IN THE AIR!" Sampson and Bern yelled. He looked at her, and Marietta noticed a slight blush creeping over Bern's face.
"Are you done now, Timon?" Benvolio shouted angrily.
"Very. Pumbaa, let's away!" Sampson and Gregory disappeared back into the crowd.
"It's been way more than five." Bern glanced at her watch, her face still slightly flushed. "Time to play. Hey, I wrote a song for you guys, I'll play it in a bit."
"Sure." Marietta nodded before Benvolio grabbed her arm and pulled her away.
"They have been doing that all week." Benvolio growled.
"I thought it was funny." Marietta replied.
"You haven't heard it five thousand times." He argued. They went out a door leading out into the gardens. "It's less crowded out here, and you can talk without shouting."
Indeed, it was much quieter, and only one other couple could been seen walking through the topiary maze. He released her arm but reached for her hand. She offered it, and their fingers gently intertwined. They wandered through the maze, hand in hand, listening to the muted sounds of the party. The band was playing again, but something softer. The music trickled through the speakers placed strategically throughout the gardens.
Once they were safely concealed in the maze, close to the center, they stopped walking. She sat down on a bench and yanked her shoes off. "I hate these things."
He laughed, sitting beside her. "I think you look better in sneakers, if it's any consolation."
"Loads." She breathed, massaging one of her feet.
He stared at her, drinking in her image. If this wasn't beauty, he didn't know what was. Slowly, he reached out and slid the mask off her face. She turned to him. He brushed his hand against her cheek. "You don't have to hide your face for me." She leaned towards him, their lips inches apart.
Bern's voice coming through the speakers suddenly ruined the mood, as if she knew somehow they were about to kiss. "Alright, this next song goes out to two of my friends who I wrote it for. Be happy in love, guys."
"She means us." Marietta whispered.
"Dance with me." He asked as Bern began to sing.
"We all lead such elaborate lives. Wild ambitions in our sights."
He pulled her to her feet and led her out into the middle of their tiny bit of maze. She snaked her arms around his neck as he placed his hands on her waist. They started to sway to the slow music.
"How an affair of the heart survives…days apart, and hurried nights. Seems quite unbelievable to me. I don't want to live like that. Seems quite unbelievable to me. I don't want to love like that. I just want a time to be…slower, and gentler. Wiser…free."
"I told you you'd have fun if you came." He teased gently.
"Whose having fun?" she replied, smiling.
"We're dancing all alone in a topiary maze. You don't call this fun?" he spun her out slowly.
"It's romantic." She admitted.
"We all live in extravagant times, playing games we can't all win. Unintended emotional crimes. Take some out, take others in. I'm so tired of all we're going through. I don't want to live like that. I'm so tired of all we're going through. I don't want to love like that. I just want to be with you."
"We haven't been alone in awhile." He said.
"Not since…" she faltered. "Not since my birthday. And…Benvolio," she met his eyes. "Perhaps then, I thought I was ready for that but now, I think I was pushing myself that night."
He pulled her closer and she rested her head on his shoulder. "I didn't think we were ready, either."
"So can we wait awhile before doing it again?" she asked quietly.
"If that's what will make you happy, that's all that matters to me." He replied just as softly.
"This may not be the moment to tell you face-to-face, but I could wait forever for the perfect time and place. We all lead such elaborate lives. We don't know whose words are true. Strangers, lovers, husbands, wives. Hard to know who's loving who. Too many choices tear us apart, I don't want to live like that. Too many choices tear us apart, I don't want to love like that…"
"I keep falling in love with you all over again." She whispered.
"…I just want to touch your heart. May this confession be the start."
The song ended and inside people applauded loudly. Outside, the couple the song was written for was sharing a kiss.
Anna Montague was walking through the garden, trying to find one of her sons. Mostly, it was just an excuse to get away from her sister-in-law, who seemed to think the party was not perfect. Anna needed to get out. So she found herself in the topiary maze, not really caring if she found any of her sons or not. She just needed to be able to breathe.
She came around a corner and stopped in her tracks. At the other end of this small section of maze, was Benvolio and a girl in a yellow dress. They were dancing slowly to the last strand of music. The song ended and she witnessed her son and the girl kiss. Anna sighed inwardly. Her son was, as his brothers put it, a player. She felt sorry for this poor thing he'd invited and would probably dump tomorrow morning.
They stopped kissing and stood there, perhaps talking. And Anna felt a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she'd seen this girl somewhere before. A picture formed in her head. Her nephew's funeral. She could vaguely remember seeing Benvolio and this girl together there, too. Why had that girl been there? Anna racked her brain to try and remember more. And then it hit her. The girl had been sitting on the other side of the room during the funeral--the Capulet side.
Benvolio hadn't realized they had company until his mother stormed in from out of nowhere, grabbed his arm and dragged him away, leaving Marietta standing alone, probably just as confused as he was.
"What the hell is wrong with you!" his mother hissed.
"Ma-what-" his brain couldn't for complete sentences at this very moment.
"Thus far, I've ignored all your philandering with stupid girls who don't realize you're only pretending to love them so you can sleep with them, but I cannot ignore this!" Anna shouted.
"Ma, what are you talking about?" Benvolio cried, trying to understand what his mother was yelling at him for.
"I'm talking about how you can sleep with all the whores you want, that's your own stupid choice, but I will not let you play this girl!" she was shorter than him, but at this moment Benvolio felt about three inches tall.
"I'm not playing her!" he exclaimed. Why was she yelling at him for that? Shouldn't she be screaming about how Marietta was a Capulet, sworn enemy of Montagues and all that jazz?
"Then what are you doing, exactly? It certainly looks to me like you are just trying to get sex out of her." Anna gave him one of those 'I'm your mother and I know when you're lying' looks.
"…You're not mad at me for dating a Capulet?" he asked, still trying to comprehend exactly what his mother was getting at.
"I'm mad because you're stupid enough to try and play a Capulet! Her family will find out and kill you for breaking her heart, and then we'll be feuding again, and it'll all just--" Anna blinked and stared at him. "Dating?"
Benvolio laughed at the look of surprise on his mother's face. "Yes, Ma! Dating. I love her."
"You love her or you love her body?" Anna asked suspiciously.
Benvolio sighed. "Ma, please believe me."
"I'd like to, but your history with women is enabling me from doing so." She retorted.
He grimaced and walked around the corner to where they had been dancing before his mother appeared. Marietta was sitting on the bench dejectedly, her mask back on her face. She looked up at him when he quietly called for her to come over. She slowly came around the corner to face Anna.
Benvolio took Marietta's hand. "Marietta, this is my mother, Anna. Ma, this is Marietta."
Marietta nodded politely. "Nice to meet you."
Anna eyed them. "So you're saying she's your girlfriend and not a one-night stand?"
"Yes, Ma." Benvolio confirmed. "We're in love. I'm not going to hurt her."
"Abra hurts me enough." Marietta muttered.
"What? What's this about hurting?" Anna looked at Marietta with…was that concern?
"Abra. Tybalt was his friend. He wants to marry me, but…" she trailed off, her hand gently touching her neck. "He keeps hitting me and…and…" she buried her face in Benvolio's shoulder.
He put his arms around her. "It's okay. He's not gonna hurt you. I won't let him."
Anna could now see, by this gesture of undying devotion, that they were not lying. She could see it in the way he gently spoke to her, assuring her. She could see it in the way that Marietta looked at him after she was calm again. Anna smiled at them. "Who else knows about you two?"
"My brothers, and the girls in the band." Benvolio said. "You-you won't tell anyone, will you?"
"No, I won't. And when someone else finds out and doesn't like it, I'll fight for you. I didn't go to law school for nothing." Anna grinned and began to walk away. "Your aunt will have another problem to tell me about by now."
Benvolio waited until she was out of sight before letting out the breath he'd been holding. "I thought she was going to make us stay apart!" he said, relieved.
"Uh huh…" Marietta nodded slowly then turned to look at him. "Now, what was all that stuff about philandering?"