~ Spring Break ~
by Lady J
Disclaimers: Well this story is still a product of my fevered brain. These situations and characters are mine all mine. Bwaaahhhhaaahhhaaaa. © March 2008.
Contact: Don't forget to feed the bard at kaysladyj@hotmail.com or ladyjsalsbury@aol.com
SPRING BREAK
By Lady J
Chapter 12
Becca left the girls in the media room, who were busily searching for the DVD they could both agree upon watching. After the party and Jean Claude's outburst both women needed some quiet down time hidden away in a different reality. She walked down unfamiliar halls in a distracted fog. Her mind swirled being diverted by thoughts of her father, bouncing from him to Madam, from Madam to Jean Claude. There seemed to be so much she didn't know about her father. Who is this mysterious woman called Madam? As thoughts of Madam faded to the back of her mind the memories of Jean Claude's tirade came to the fore front. The young woman pushed Jean Claude away letting her thoughts turn to the friends she traveled with and to Victoria in particular.
When Jessie had first introduced Victoria, Becca viewed the tall brooding woman as a cartoon. Victoria, for all her beauty, wealth, and intelligence seemed to be living more a caricature of a life than actually having a life. This waste irritated the vivacious Rebecca as did Victoria's stuffy pretentions. This laid the basis for the girls' love/hate relationship. Rebecca loved to tease Victoria and Victoria hated it. This relationship worked for both young women for years but now everything was changing. Being at Beautee Dangereuse was opening Becca's eyes more than she was prepared for.
Becca finally noted her surroundings having arisen from her reveries and found that she was lost somewhere in the maze that is Beautee Dangereuse. Her ancestors seemed to look down at her with mocking expressions from their framed homes. Great, just great. All I need is the Minotaur and my day will be complete, Becca thought.
I can't believe I'm lost inside this mansion, Becca thought to herself as she sank into a chair that sat in a dark alcove. If I stay put someone should find me, I hope. Becca closed her eyes and could hear the faint sound of metal clinking against porcelain. Her ears pricked attentively she slowly rose from the chair. She followed the sounds and soon found herself in the dining room where Genevieve was clearing off the remainder of the dishes used during brunch. Thank God. Next time I'll leave a trail of bread crumbs.
The young attractive woman looked up from her task of stacking dishes and smiled as Becca entered the room. "Mademoiselle Rebecca is there something you need?"
"Do you know where everyone went?" Becca asked.
"Well, Mademoiselles Skylar and Jessie went to the morning room with Dr. Vance. I believe Mademoiselles Shannon and Victoria followed."
"Ok. And Madam? Is she still here?"
"Usually she's in the library at this time of day." Genevieve smiled.
"Thanks." Becca paused for some reason not sure where to go next. Her mind was still reeling.
"Mademoiselle Rebecca? Is everything alright?" Genevieve drew Becca from here reveries with her questions.
Becca smiled. "Yeah. Yes, I'm ok. Just zoned out for a second."
"It's been quite the morning for you hasn't it?" Genevieve commented as she crossed to the side board and poured two cups of coffee. She returned to the table and set them down in the way of invitation. Both women took a chair.
Becca sighed. "It has been quite a morning to say the least."
"I'm sorry. Jean Claude's outburst was totally out of line," Genevieve said.
"You have nothing to apologize for," Becca commented. "If anyone needs to apologize, it's Jean Claude."
"His behavior does reflect on all of us." Genie smirked. "As for an apology, one must have a conscience first."
"I suppose you're right." Becca giggled. "He doesn't strike me as someone who would ever admit he was wrong."
"No he never will, but we do have out ways of evening the odds," Genevieve snickered.
"Oh really?' Becca placed her face in the palm of her hand. "Do tell."
Genevieve blushed slightly. "Well… I'm almost embarrassed to say."
"Oh come on. Your secret is safe with me." Becca smiled.
Genevieve scooted her chair closer to Becca. She leaned her head in conspiratorially. "Well we've pulled Jr. High pranks mostly. Like short sheeting his bed, shrinking his favorite clothes in the dryer, or throwing a red sock into a washer with his white shirts. We've also over spiced his food, made sure there was no hot water in his bathroom except in the toilet, and made sure every time he turned on his stereo a fuse blew and left him in the dark."
"You mean more in the dark than he already is?" Becca giggled.
"I don't think anything could be that dark. On the other hand there are the more sophisticated jokes like closing his credit cards when he's out on a date, or changing the door locks while he was away, and even setting him up with a woman of the night when he thinks it's a debutant."
Becca laughed heartily. "I just love it. Does he ever figure it out?"
"No, he never does figure out who or when. He just knows he's being humiliated," Genevieve answered.
"Who? How many of y'all are involved?" Becca asked in astonishment.
Genevieve smiled sheepishly. "Well, actually, everyone in the house."
"What does Madam have to say about all this? I assume she knows what's going on," Becca asked.
"Actually she has come up with a couple of the pranks. I think she has hoped to promote humility, but it never works," Genevieve said. "
There was this one time, when Jean Claude bought his BMW, Jean Claude was being uppity towards Lewis about some supposed insult to his new toy, so Lewis and Willie decided to do a little 'maintenance' work on the carburetor of his Beemer."
"What did they do?" Becca asked.
"Well they did something, I think they called it a vacuum lock. What happened was every time that Jean Claude drove anywhere the engine would heat up, and cut off, and leave him stranded. He would have to call Willie to come and get him. Willie would tow the car back and get in and it would start again. Jean Claude was so angry, he blamed Willie."
"Why Willie?" Becca asked.
"Because Willie maintains all the cars and trucks for the family here at Beautee Dangereuse."
"I thought he worked here like you do?" Becca asked.
"Oh no, he's moved on and doesn't work here exclusively anymore. Once he got his certifications in auto mechanics and his business degree he opened his own shop. He's very successful, but he still maintains all the vehicles and the electric in the house as a favor for Madam" Genevieve explained. "So I think you can see why everyone, including Madam, was very upset by Jean Claude. She has always prided herself on the southern hospitality of Beautee Dangereuse, especially when it comes to family." Genevieve smirked. "I know it sounds desperately old fashioned, but that's Madam."
"So it would seem," Becca said, "Genevieve, tell me, does the southern hospitality extend to gays?"
"Why of course. Skylar is not the only gay friend the girls have. There's Candace, and Tonya who I think Dominique briefly dated." Genevieve looked up in thought. "There's Sean, Jeff, Barbara, and Drew who helped Madam redecorate the guest wing."
Becca raised an eyebrow in skepticism, "Oh I know how it sounds, gay guy interior decorator." Genevieve answered Becca's unasked question. "But when Madam wanted to renovate the guest wing Drew volunteered his services."
"So what did Drew do? Shop at every antique store in the south?" Becca smiled.
Genevieve giggled, "No. Madam had some definite ideas how she wanted the wing restored and Drew being an architectural student practically salivated at the chance to work on Beautee Dangereuse What no one knew was that Drew was a budding interior decorator. When he and Jeff finished the construction he scowled the state for whether called 'authentic' pieces. He's quite clever about it, no overpriced antique stores for Drew oh no. He scavenged at garage sales, flea markets, Salvation Army, thrift stores and any where else he sniffed a deal." Genevieve shook her head and laughed. "Of course his treasures were trash to the rest of us until he stripped, stained, painted sanded, reupholstered, and cleaned the pieces. I personally didn't think he could salvage any of that junk, but he turned out to be quite the craftsman and really surprised me when he brought the pieces back to the house. I teased Drew when he was unloading the furniture that he went out and bought knockoffs. I couldn't believe that the junk was turned into such beautiful pieces. But he showed me the original craftsman's markings and made me a believer."
"So these friends have been around for awhile?" Becca asked.
"For years," Genevieve answered.
"Then what was Jean Claude's malfunction this morning?"
"Oh, that's easy. Skylar won't have anything to do with him," Genevieve answered.
"Oh. I get it." Becca nodded.
"What everything comes down to is that Madam is the grand Dame of Beautee Dangereuse. She believes everything that happens within these walls is her responsibility. The core of Southern Gentility is to be sure that anyone who enters this house feels welcome and comfortable while visiting. I believe the idea of hospitality is ingrained into the being of every young southern girl from the time they're born." Genevieve smiled as she sipped her coffee.
"Would that include you?" Becca asked.
"I suppose so," Genevieve paused, "Though I don't see my future in the hospitality industry."
"Where do you see your future going?" Becca asked.
"Well, I'll be getting my MBA soon and I was hoping to go into banking," Genevieve said.
"Really?"
"Yeah, it took awhile to get here, but it's almost over. I can't wait to graduate," Genevieve relayed happily.
"What brought you here to begin with?" Becca asked.
"Lucy is a friend of my Grand Mama. I had a little job at a café in town, didn't make much, but needed the money for school. When I lost my job my Grand Mama told Lucy and here I am. The hours are easy and the pay is good, and Madam is accommodating when it comes to my school schedule. So it's been a win-win all the way around," Genevieve explained.
"Sounds like you were very lucky to step into this job," Becca commented.
"Don't I know it." Genevieve stirred her coffee quietly.
Becca rose from the table her coffee cup empty. "Well I better go find the others."
Becca turned to leave when Genevieve said, "Mademoiselle Rebecca?"
"Yes?" Becca answered.
"Jean Claude…"
"Yes?" Becca's eyebrows furrowed.
"Beware of Jean Claude. We may all play jokes and laugh at him, but he has a black heart." Becca quaked at Genevieve's words.
"Genevieve, do you know why he's here?" Becca thought if anyone would know what is going on with Jean Claude the servants would.
"No, I don't know why he came to Beautee Dangereuse." Genevieve finished gathering the dishes and utensils in her arms, and turned her back to the swinging door that leads to the kitchen.
Becca pressed the moment. "Are there any rumors?"
Genevieve winked. "Mademoiselle, there are always rumors." With that said Genevieve disappeared through the swinging door into the kitchen
***
Becca watched the closed door for a time before she headed to the morning room. "This day just gets weirder and weirder," she muttered.
Becca crossed the foyer and listened to her own footsteps echo in the massive room. She opened the door to the morning room and found it empty. "Damn. Where the hell is everybody? Just my luck, when I need to talk there's no one around."
She walked across the vast foyer again and headed down the hallway to the library.
"Maybe Madam is around."
As she approached the closed doors of the library she could hear raised voices cutting the silence of the hallway. The voices were definitely those of Jean Claude and Madam. The voices were muffled, but one thing the young woman did hear was Jean Claude say, 'But they don't belong here."
"I've got to get some air," Becca murmured. She continued down the portrait ladened hall which would lead her to the back of the house. It seemed to Becca that with every step she took that the hallway became longer and longer. She picked up her pace from a saunter to a jog, and finally to an all out sprint when the back door was finally within her sight.
Becca exploded through the back doors like a drowning woman would burst through the surface of still waters. Once she stepped onto the veranda she stopped in her tracks and inhaled deeply. She held in the flora scented oxygen in her lungs for long moments, and allowed the lightly perfumed air infuse her being. She slowly exhaled. She crossed the boards of the deck, and placed her hands on the white washed railing that surrounded the veranda. Heavy lids slowly closed over hazel eyes. Again she inhaled the sweetened air in the hope it would clear her agitated mind.
She opened her eyes and surveyed the beautiful grounds of Beautee Dangereuse. She let her green eyes rest on the kaleidoscope of flowering buds, and the occasional artistically trimmed topiary. She then turned her eyes to the pool. Its crystal blue waters were so smooth, placid in direct contrast with her whirling mind.
Everything about this place was a contradiction. Nothing is what it seems.
Christ, can anything else go wrong with this trip? Rogue storms coming out of nowhere. A near plane crash that could've killed us all. Being humiliated by overcompensating sales women just because I was caught in a rain storm. Then ending up at this grand house which, for whatever reason, makes me jumpy, not to mention meeting the estranged part of the family. Yeah this vacation was a great idea. I vote we do it again next year… NOT, Becca thought as she grasped the railing.
Jean Claude's vicious words kept playing over and over in her head, especially after hearing him continuing his tirade behind closed doors with Madam. Then there were Dominique and Claire's totally unexpected revelations, which added even more to her current unease. Becca wasn't sure what to do with the can of worms that their words had opened.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the volleyball pit just beyond the pool house. She closed her eyes and was transported back to that fateful game of volleyball. Her mind took over and images of Victoria's curvy form flooded her mind. How her long sleek body twisted and turned as she played the game. Becca shuddered as she recalled every flex of a muscle, every drop of sweat that sensuously coated soft skin.
She descended into a sensual dreamscape. She could see Victoria, her dark, wavy hair spilling from her shoulders to the center of her back. Becca could see her deep chocolate brown eyes and her sensuous pink lips. She could smell her subtle cologne which the mere recollection of made her crazy. She could almost feel her soft skin. Becca surprised herself when in her fantasy Victoria leaned in for a kiss that Becca so desperately wanted to receive.
Green eyes shot open.
OH MY GOD. What is the matter with me?
"I must be going insane, that's the only answer. This place is driving me nutter butter cookoo," Becca ranted out loud. "Maybe we should've never come here in the first place."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Mon Petite."
A startled Becca spun around on her heel to see Madam standing just outside the door. Madam pushed the back door closed with a thin hand before walking over to where Becca stood sputtering incoherently.
"Madam! I didn't see… I didn't mean…When did you..? How long have you..?"
Madam placed a soft hand on Becca's shoulder, her normally sparkling eyes dimmed slightly with confusion and hurt. "Becca, my dear, has your stay at Beautee Dangereuse been so terrible?"
Becca's shoulders slumped. "No, Madam, not at all. It's just," Becca sighed, "It's just that this trip and everything about it as been…" she paused trying to grasp the right word but couldn't. The young woman lapsed into silence.
Madam permitted the young woman her moment of silence. "Rebecca, I know that Jean Claude upset you, but I assure you I have dealt with the situation. His opinions are his own, and do not reflect the feelings or beliefs of anyone else in this house." Madam's features turned grim with a mixture of sadness, anger, and embarrassment.
"Madam, what is Jean Claude's story?" Becca asked looking up.
"Story?" Madam asked with child like innocence.
Becca smirked and raised one eyebrow. "Puh-lease." The young woman smiled. "You know perfectly well what I'm asking you," Becca said, her tones dripping with southern charm.
Madam smiled. "Oui', I understand what you're asking. Shall we have a seat?" Madam motioned to the porch swing.
Both women settled into the comfortable seats of the swing before Becca would speak again. "Dominique, Claire, and I had a long talk after we left the dining room."
"What did you young ladies talk about?" Madam asked.
"This family. My father. What we talked about is neither here nor there, my point is that I think I understand who Claire and Dominique are, at least a little better now. After our talk, I even think I know you a little better." Becca winked at Madam and the older woman smiled. "I'm also somewhat clearer on why the girls are here with you, but Jean Claude?" She paused. "He's another story completely. Jean Claude, I don't have a clue who he is or what the hell he's doing here. The girls are fun loving, open, intelligent, caring, and have a great sense of humor." Becca smiled brightly. "Not unlike their Great Grandmother." Madam smiled in return as thanks for the kind compliment. Becca continued, "As far as I can tell the girls have a good reason to be at Beautee Dangereuse. Jean Claude on the other hand, seems to have come to Beautee Dangereuse under some sorta mysterious dark cloud of an unknown transgression. Madame, Jean Claude is the most arrogant, misogynistic, malignant person it's been my misfortune to have ever met."
"My, such strong words concerning your cousin," Madam said her gray eyes dim belying the slight smile on her lips.
"It seems to me that everyone, including the servants, has plans for their futures while Jean Claude has an agenda. I'm worried about you, Madam," Becca said her honesty and unease apparent to the older woman.
To Becca's surprise Madam leaned back into the soft cushions of the swing. The elder woman placed a thin finger to her temple, and smiled broadly eyes twinkling. "My dear, I assure you, I'm well aware of Jean Claude's, how did you put it, agendas. There is nothing to worry about, Mon Cheri. Jean Claude is more pathetic than he is powerful."
"Pathetic?" Becca was confused by Madam's confession.
"Is this not the right word?"
"If you mean loser, then you hit the nail on the head," Becca said.
"Well, I wouldn't call him a 'loser' per se. But just as with many civilizations, when one does not learn from their pasts or the pasts of their family then one is doomed to repeat that history for the worse."
"You see Jean Claude going down a wrong path don't you?" Becca asked having a brand new respect for Madam, her wisdom, and the depths of her compassion. If it had been up to Becca she would have let him sink like the Titanic, but not Madam. It was apparent to Becca that Madam would give him every opportunity to get to the lifeboat before the ship sank.
"He is not making wise decisions at this time. He is a grown man, granted a young man, but a man nonetheless," Madam answered.
"Well that's questionable." Both women shared a giggle.
"Why would he listen to what an old woman has to say?" Madam commented with a far away look to her eye.
"Are 'questionable decisions' what brought Jean Claude here?" Becca asked.
"Yes and no." Madam was being intentionally cryptic Becca thought. Changing the subject Madam asked, "Rebecca, tell me, have you never dealt with this type of man? You are attractive and intelligent, surely you have dispatched such scoundrels with little effort or further thought."
"Usually," Becca answered knowing Madam was correct in her assumption. She had run into this type of guy more than once. She would chew them up and spit them out without another thought.
"Quelle est la différence?" Madam asked the young woman.
"I honestly don't know." Becca rose from the swing and walked over to the railing of the porch once again. Madam followed her. "Madam, I don't know what's the matter with me," Becca continued without looking at Madam directly. "Beautee Dangereuse is absolutely beautiful. And you couldn't have been more kind or gracious to all of us. But…"
"But?" Madam asked.
Becca turned to face Madam squarely. "I can't explain it. It's the strangest feeling. This place is familiar and alien at the same time. It's like I belong here and yet I don't. Jean Claude's words just cemented my assumptions that I really don't belong here at all."
"C'est faux mon petit," Madam said.
"Why is it false?"
"My dear, I understand your confusion. But I think I have something in the study that may begin to clear everything up." Madam walked to the back door of the house. Becca followed silently.
They traveled back down the same hallway that Becca had just mere minutes ago flown down to escape this house. They walked into Madam's study another impeccably decorated room which was a page right out of the 1800's. The elder woman walked behind her desk and lifted an ornate silver box from a shelf. Madam lifted the lid and the silent room was filled with melodious strains of this ancient music box. Immediately Becca felt a calm come over her. For the first time she had arrived at Beautee Dangereuse she felt safe and secure.
Madam handed the box to a mesmerized Becca. The tinkling sounds transported the young woman to another time and place. "I suppose music does have charm to soothe the savage beast."
"Do you understand why?" Madam asked.
Becca shook her head.
Madam sat in a wing backed chair before speaking, "Many times the past holds the answers to our future. This is one thing that Jean Claude will never understand. This," Madam pointed to the music box which still rested in Becca hands, "music box is part of your past."
Becca sat in the other wing back chair. "How is this part of my past?"
Madam settled into the cocoon of the chair. "Because of the animosity between your father and his mother, my daughter in law, I was robbed of many years of your father's life. Which meant I also lost any chance of knowing his wife or his children? Except," Madam paused, "Except for a very short period of time when you were so young." Madam's voice faltered almost imperceptivity. "After you were born your father tried to bridge the gap between his family and ours. You were such a beautiful child, so full of love and life. My Charles, your Great Grand Papa, would carry you all over this house." Madam giggled. "Even as you got older he would still carry you everywhere he went. He loved showing you off. No one could persuade him to put you down even for a nap. When you were tired he would bring you in here and play that music box until you fell asleep. Even as you slept he would hold you. Somehow he knew that our time together would be short." Madam paused.
"The girls told me that they were sure I had visited Beautee Dangereuse as a child, but they weren't sure," Becca added.
"They were correct. Your father would bring you often. At the time he was stationed not too far from here. Alas all good things must come to an end. After a few years your father and his mother had their final parting of the ways, and I had no hope of seeing you again. That is until your father called saying you and your friends needed a little help. You have no idea how happy I was at the very thought that you would be at Beautee Dangereuse once again. You were missed, mon petit."
The genuine-ness of Madam's confession touched Becca to the core. There was no pretense about anything Madam had said. Becca gently put down the music box and walked over to Madam. She leaned over and hugged the older woman. "No matter what anyone says, my Rebecca, you belong here. You will always be a part of Beautee Dangereuse," Madam whispered.
"I think I realize that now," Becca replied a tear slipping from her eye.
Madam drew back from the embrace. She noticed the tear and her brows furrowed in confusion. "Ahhh, this has all been too much for you child."
Becca stood up, and wiped the tear from her cheek. "I guess I am on emotional overload. Too many family secrets coming to light I guess."
"To be sure," Madam's grey eyes drilled into Becca pale green, "but there is something more. Something else that is troubling my little one, is there not?"
Madam's words were so full of love and compassion that Becca felt as if she wanted to just spill out all her fears and frustrations right then and there. She knew that Madam would have the answers she needed.
"Madam…." Becca began but was cut off by a knock at the door. Damn it, who the hell is that?
Madam held up her finger so that the young woman would pause. "Entre'."
Lewis sheepishly opened the door. "I don't mean to interrupt, Madam, but this gentleman is very insistent on speaking with you." Lewis handed the elder woman a business card.
Madam read the card for a long moment. Madam finally looked away from the card. "Lewis, show the gentleman to the drawing room."
Becca noticed a definite change come over Madam as the elder woman tapped the card on her fingers. "Madam, maybe I should go so you can take care of your visitor."
"Don't leave so quickly, mon peite, you may be interested in this visitor." Madam handed her the card.
Becca read the card out loud, "Mr. Roger Sinclair?"
Continued in part 13