Authors: Vivienne Harris-Scott
At 17, after being accepted at the same
business school, he asked her to move in with him in the empty penthouse his
father owned next to the Trocadero. His parents being divorced, his father
lived in Washington DC where he worked at the World Bank, while his mother
lived in her chateau in Burgundy. He was on his own, and convinced her he could
use her company. For the next eight years, he was her confidant, he saw
her through everything, as she did him. Lovers came and went, years passed,
diplomas were celebrated, jobs taken, and Lily visited every year for a couple
of months at times.
They all grew into fairly well adjusted
adults, considering the circumstances, promising one another they would always
be there for each other.
It was 1998. At 25, the world was at their
feet.
((~~!~~))
You know the Yiddish proverb,
‘
Man plans, God laughs.
’
Well, it couldn't have been truer in our
case.
The first fissure in my friendship with
Kevin happened when he met his first serious girlfriend: Serena. At
25, Kevin had only slept with only a handful of women, -contrary to yours
truly, who had spent a lot of time experimenting -, and he had never been in
love.
Funnily enough, my brother, Deric, was the
one who made the introduction. He had been modelling since he was 16 years-old,
after quitting high-school, stating it wasn't for him. There were so
many interesting things to do in life, who in their right mind would spend
their days listening to insipid lectures?! My father had been unimpressed but
let it go in face of his success.
Serena was a 22 years-old blonde beauty
from Italy, and Kevin fell for her. Hard.
I couldn't stand her. Don't ask me why, I
couldn't answer. Kevin sensed it in the first few months of their relationship
and then knew it for certain when I openly told him right before moving out of
our apartment. I was leaving for Geneva where I would start my internship at
the UN European headquarters while finishing my master degree in international
law, and didn
’
t want to leave things unsaid. From then
on, geographical distance and my inability to force myself to tolerate his
girlfriend created a rift between us.
At 25, I felt alone, once again.
Of course, Deric was there with the weekly
phone calls, but it simply wasn't the same. Lily had returned to the US, and
was in her fourth-year of medical school at Harvard; she couldn't visit anymore
in spite of wanting to.
Working became my best friend.
Meeting Ethan was like a breath of fresh
air swirling into my life. He was interested in me. Not because I was
beautiful, but because of my spirit, and our chemistry was just indescribable.
It was my turn to fall, hard. When I asked him if he ever dated a black woman
he told me he was color blind, which I found hysterical at the time, not
knowing it was true!
Too bad his fellow countrymen weren't. But
I would only learn this much later.
The romance between Ethan and I was
intense from the start, but reached high gear when he asked me to accompany him
back to Australia almost a year prior to today. It was December 1999, we had
known each other less than two months, and he convinced me I would have the
time of my life celebrating the world's entry into the new millennium in
Sydney. He was about done with the contracts he had been working on in London,
and simply stated: he wasn
’
t leaving Europe without me in his luggage.
“
Trust me,
”
he said,
“
You'll never want to leave.
”
his Australian accent always had the
effect to make me weak in the knee and he knew it. And then, he would come to
Geneva and use his personal charm to convince me to go with him. Making the
same demand over and over and cajoling me every chance he got, I finally
relented. We had only been on a handful of dates since our meeting because we
were located in different countries, but each was intense, unforgettable,
always leaving us wanting more. He rang me on a daily basis, morning and
evening; making me crave his voice, and his presence in my life.
Kevin had broken up with Serena a few
months back upon finding her heavily kissing another man in a club, and we
somehow reconnected via more regular phone calls. So, when came the time to
decide if I would go down under, he was the person I rang for advice.
I had already told him about Ethan, and
how I had strong feelings for the Australian- never mind the fact that
before him, Australia simply was not on my radar at all - but I was afraid
of taking this relationship too seriously because in the end, the man was based
on the other side of the planet.
Kevin convinced me to go, arguing
that Ethan was making me happy, and at the worst, if things didn't work
out, I could always say
“
I went to Sydney.
“
, which was more than most European could
or would say. The final clincher was winter. Geneva, where I lived at the time,
was getting colder by the day and the snow wasn't letting up; wouldn't it be
nicer to be strolling on a Sydney beach?
I caved. I was going on my first trip to
Australia.
I stayed nearly two months instead of the
three weeks I had originally planned. Ethan went all out being my tour guide,
partner in crime, counsel, friend and my lover. For the first time of my life,
I actually felt wanted, accepted, supported and loved, completely and
unconditionally. For the first time, I was needed. Australia was the most
beautiful place I had ever seen and Sydney was growing on me, trying to
displace Paris as my hometown.
Somehow, I had utterly fallen in love with
Ethan and his country. But eventually, after postponing several times, I had to
leave to go back to my life and my work. The time for champagne dinners,
cruises on the harbour and endless love making nights had to halt, and reality
set in.
He had to go back attending to his
administration, and I was headed for New York to start my new job at the UN International
Law Commission.
Our relationship had blossomed so much in
the next following months, that we flew at every opportunity we had to see each
other. Daily phone calls were not enough. We both physically ached being apart.
Weekends in Hong Kong, Bali, St. Lucia, or London were a common occurrence for
us. Whichever city was the mid-point of where our work was taking us, we would
meet in, and barely leave our hotel room. Each encounter more intense, more
demanding of permanency. Distance made our love stronger, making leaving each
other a bit harder every time. Our involvement was surprisingly kept under the
radar. In spite of being in the public eye at home, Ethan
’
s private life was a non-event as far as
his colleagues and local friends knew. This suited me just fine, as I was a
very private person, only looking for recognition through my work, and with no
desire to ever make the society pages.
Now, here I was, almost a year later, with
the man I loved sleeping next to me, and in turmoil about what the right
decision was. I had grown accustomed of waking up with Ethan there, accustomed
to how a simple touch of my wrist would make me crave him, accustomed to the
highs, to his glowing eyes as he came inside me, making me his a little bit
more every time. I couldn
’
t stand the thought of sleeping next to
him, only to have it ripped away because I needed to leave... again.
I was hooked.
((~~!~~))
All this introspection had made me thirsty, and I got
up silently to get some water.
With my drink in hand, instead of
returning to bed, I ended up on the balcony of Ethan's penthouse. It was a full
moon, and the view was simply magnificent. Being on the top floor of the
building, I had the bridge and the city at my feet. I couldn't hear any noise,
and pondered if I truly belonged here. I prayed the answer would come to me.
I don't know how much time passed. The
Sydney Harbour Bridge entranced me. It was majestic. Looking at it, I thought I
could almost touch it. I felt at peace. I was home. Could I live here and be
happy? I hoped so. I simply couldn't face the alternative. Losing Ethan was not
an option.
As I was about to turn from the view
to go inside, Ethan arms enveloped me, holding me tight against him
and the railing.
I leaned against his chest, sighed
softly and said,
“
E?
” “
Yes, baby?
”
he murmured in my ear, then kissing my
shoulder blade,
“
I'll cancel the trip. I'll marry you.
”
I said, praying it was the right
decision.
He touched my wrist, swirling me around in
his arms, and looking at me, eyes glowing, said in a low, husky voice,
“
Let
’
s celebrate
…
I know just the way
…”
Julian
December 2
nd
, 2000. Darling Point.
Sydney, Australia.
He slammed the door and headed for his Mercedes. He's
had enough!
Fuck it! Fuck her! Fuck this Goddamn
country!
Why, oh why, did he think it would be any
different this time around?
I'm 33 years-old, for fuck's sake.
Does she really think she can boss me around?!
Fuck!
He truly had a love - hate relationship
with Australia. And it all came down to his mother.
It was his home, but every time he was
here, he felt like he couldn't be himself, he couldn't breathe.
Born and raised in Sydney, Julian was the
typical prodigal son, the first and only son of Peter McCarty and Lady McCarty.
All hopes and expectations resting on his
shoulders.
Some would consider this hazard of life as
a blessing. For him it was a curse!
His late Grandfather Michael McCarty had
been the heir of an industrial empire back in the old country and moved to
Australia with his young wife Sally in the hope of expending the family fortune
in this new territory. It was the late 40's, the country was on an economic
boom and every hope Michael had was fulfilled. His marital union only
produced one child, Peter, but it was enough to uphold the family name and
ensure descendants for the McCarty clan.
Peter was a shy child, always engrossed in
his books, with little interest for the business, but as his growing years went
by, with the best education and social circles money could provide, he
developed a keen interest in politics, and by the age of 22 years-old became
the youngest elected member of the legislature.
His father, getting old, made him aware of
his only wish for the future: see his son get married, and produce children
before he reached the grave.
Being of a shy and somewhat introverted
nature, Peter didn't have a clue as to which woman would meet his father's
demands, but he was resolute in finding her.
As fate would have it, one of his
political mentors, George
O'Brady
had a daughter of
marrying age. He introduced him to Helen, and Peter was smitten at first sight.
Helen who had had her social introduction
in the previous year and had yet to find a potential husband, saw her chance,
and decided she would become his wife.
Peter was a sweet, tempered, charming man,
and he was a McCarty, which meant she could and would become the socialite she
always wanted to be.
Being the daughter of a politician, she was
savvy and used to a certain lifestyle, but she knew being Peter's wife would
give her access to unlimited funds and increase her social profile to a new
level. Of course, she would support any political ambition Peter had, but
being his wife would be enough for her.
Within 3 years of marriage, Melissa and
Julian were born. Within seven years, Peter's party won the general
federal elections, and he was sworn in as Prime minister of Australia.
A position that remained his until a few
months before his death, some twenty odd years later.
Moving into Kirribilli House
,
the
official Prime Minister residence was the start of Helen's life. She
decided to send the children to boarding school, so she could finally focus on
being the country
’
s First Lady. Over the years, Peter's
party kept being re-elected, Peter cementing his position of Prime minister at
home and international figure abroad. While travelling all over the
world with her husband, Helen became a fashion icon, a permanent fixture
in the best circles, and all but forgot to be a mother to her children. Of
course, she saw them during the school holidays but to say that their
relationship was nurturing or loving would be an overstatement.
Melissa and Julian only had each other for
moral support, and while their father did his very best to love his children
when he saw them, it simply never replaced nor compensated the lack of maternal
warmth and love.
His responsibility was to the country
first.
Julian was particularly affected by his
parents
’
absence and kept getting into trouble
years after years, school after school. His grades were fine but obtained
without efforts - countless reports called him
“
an intelligent young man, but with
restless tendencies.
“
- making him the black sheep of the family
while Melissa, though cynical in her wit when she examined their situation, had
a calmer temperament.
By the age of 16, Melissa had decided she
would study architecture and design in Europe, while Julian, still 14
years-old, would finish school in Sydney.
Whatever Julian did, it would never be
good enough for his mother. Realizing this at a very young age, as she would
always compare him to her friend
’
s children, particularly Ethan McGregor,
the son she wished he were; he grew tired of seeking her attention by any
wicked means he could think of, and swore to himself, he would leave home
as soon as the first opportunity presented itself. He loved his father dearly
as the man always showed interest in him and kindness when he was present, but
he simply wouldn't bear to be around his mother more than necessary as the
years went by.
Luckily, he didn't have to wait until he
was of age for the fortunate break to occur. Having inherited the
smarts of his father and grandfather, he was enrolled at Sydney law school at
the age of 17. While his best friend and nemesis Ethan McGregor involved
himself in students
’
politics, Julian decided to put his
blessed dashing looks and extravert personality to use. He was invited to all
parties, including the underground ones, and incidentally met a British
scouting agent at one of them.
This was his ticket out. He convinced his
father to allow him one year off studying, and promised that if he weren
’
t successful, he would obediently return
home, go to university to obtain a degree, become a lawyer and take over
the family business.
Fortunately he never had to find out if he
would have made good on his word, as after landing in London, within two
months, he was on the runway of Paris and Milan before heading to New York
which would become his principal place of residence for the next five years
when he wasn't working in Europe.
Life had been kind to Julian. With the
newfound financial and emotional independence, he became the go-to model after
cementing a golden contract with Calvin Klein at 21. Women were available
aplenty and he explored as many as he could. He didn't really know what being
in love was, but the first time he was smitten long enough to have an actual
relationship that lasted over two months, he thought love was it, and he
married the girl in Las Vegas without even informing his family until the
marriage had been consummated and reported in the newspapers.
Only then, he rang his parents informing
them they had a daughter in law, she was a mildly famous country music singer,
and that was all there was to it!
His mother was appalled, and for the
umpteenth time in his life told him he was an embarrassment, and she wished he
could be more like his best friend, his brother from another mother, his
nemesis, her socialite best friend
’
s heir, Mary's son: Ethan McGregor.
“
I simply don't understand where we went
wrong with you Julian. You and Ethan come from the same cloth, went to the same
schools, grew up together, you are the son of the prime minister, which gives
you something no one else has, yet, you don't see him half naked on posters...
”
she sighed, adding,
“
He's destined to do great things. What are
you...
”
her voice had trailed off.
“
Goodbye mother.
”
he had hung up, and hadn
’
t spoken to her until she called him 3
years later announcing his father was ill and demanded to see him.
In the meantime, his marriage has been a
complete failure, and he was divorced 7 months later, at the ripe age of 23.
Not deterred by this little blip on his
road to success, he used some of the money earned while modelling investing it
in industries close to his heart. Having taught himself the art of cooking
while in Italy and enjoying it immensely, he bought his first restaurant.
Within 18 months, one turned into three, and within five years, it was a
franchise with establishments in the hippest cities in the world, from Miami to
Tokyo.
Sydney was the last one opening, so he
came home as his father was dying, with the hope of reaching some sort of peace
treaty with his mother.
He thought in light of his financial
success, she would somehow show some pride in her son.
He was wrong. Consequently, he left home
once again, and orphan this time, even more determined to become more
successful than what her narrow mind would allow.
He wasn't interested in politics, never
had been, and actually had severed all ties with the Sydney political circles
after his last visit home, because he found their members conservative, boring
and predictable, and from the comments his mother made, there was no love lost on
their side either. His former classmates despised him apparently; his choice of
career, making him a laughing stock. Even Ethan had somehow disappeared on him.
Well, truth was, he was the one who ceased to call him as Ethan had always been
like and older brother he couldn
’
t face disapproval or disappointment from.
He had looked eternally amused by Julian
’
s latest antics.
Fuck them all!
He wanted excitement in his life, wasn't
going to apologize for his wants, and being a politician was too limiting for
him. Not to mention, why would he want to return to Australia when he
was living in the most exciting city in the world: New York!
He had a good business mind, and decided
to keep using it. His father having passed on, McCarty industries were his to
manage if he wanted.
Now, here he was, back in Sydney; only
there to attend his sister wedding the following day and not even 10 hours
within his arrival the arguing with his mother put him on the brink of
packing it in.
He had landed late the previous night, and
went straight to the proverbial family home. Waking up at 8:00 a.m., he met
Melissa in the kitchen as she was pouring herself some tea while their mother
was on the phone- no doubt, he thought, with one of her snooty
friends
–
having an animated conversation
punctuated with
ohhs
and
ahhs
.
Upon ending the call, she looked at her
only son and said,
“
Good morning Julian. We are glad you could
make it.
”
“
Mother,
”
was his curt reply. He sat, and
poured himself some coffee, waiting.
It didn't take long. Helen McCarty smiled
and said with pride in her voice,
“
Well, that was Mary on the phone. You'll
never guess what! Ethan is getting married! To a lawyer no less! He
proposed yesterday apparently...How exciting, isn't it? You might want to
follow....
”
she stated in a joyful tone.
He erupted.
“
Mother you sound like a broken record. I
am not Ethan, will never be Ethan and quite frankly do not give a flying fuck
about Ethan getting married, or whatever else he's doing these days! I haven't seen
or spoken to him in years, and wished you would let this go, but since you
won't, I'll go for a drive....
”
He kissed Melissa on the cheek and headed
for the exit.
I'll be on the 1
st
plane
out after the ceremony,
was
his thought while violently slamming the front door.