This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad (20 page)

“
This past Tuesday?” I whip some balsamic vinegar with olive oil. I don’t like to add too much mustard, so just a little before adding salt and pepper. “I went to see a play with Marcus,” I tell her. “Why do you ask?”

“
And Wednesday last week?”

I
’m not sure where this is going. I’m hosting this gathering for her. It’s an informal bridal shower before the real one hosted by Axelle in a couple of weeks. I plate the salad in six individual bowls. Where was I?

“
John took us out to dinner,” I finally tell her. I laugh a little. When Nella is out of town he gets very lonely. I think it’s cute. “What are you up to now?” I ask Noor.

At that moment
Beesly walks into my kitchen. “Do you need any help, Luce?”

I smile back to her. My soul sister has once again been left in my care and we have both
been loving it. Apparently Matt has acting talent; after the shoot in Vancouver he’s been invited to New York for a few guest starring appearances in a popular show filming there. We’re in talks with them to let them use songs from the album. It would most likely be the first single during the episodes. Our ten-week deadline is almost up and we’re mostly done. That’s the only reason we let Matt go to New York and play actor for the next seven days. We have less than four weeks left but have already re-mastered, recorded and edited a total of seventeen out of twenty songs. With a bit of luck we could finish Beesly’s portions with the G Band this week and the three remaining songs, and record Matt’s once he’s back.

“
We’re fine here, B. could you please take the lemonade out of the fridge? Thank you for setting the table in the balcony.”

Beesly moves her now-all-natural hair away from her face. Since Noor
’s party, she has been embracing her new less-is-more look and has been featured in quite a few magazines for her new summer look. Today is a perfect example; for a hot but not humid, long, civic holiday Saturday lunch she’s wearing a simple, strapless, hot-pink dress. No makeup; just some very big, turquoise earrings and sandals.

“
It should be ready in thirty minutes,” I add before putting the now-covered salad bowls in the fridge. “I’ll toast the bread later for the antipasto plate. We will be right there,” I say before Beesly disappears with the lemonade. “Okay, so what’s eating you now?” I ask Noor.

“
Well, let me see. Where have you been for the last month and the one before? I haven’t really seen you since the launch party…in June!”

“
Oh my God! I’ve been working –” I say. Are we really having this conversation again? I haven’t missed a single status meeting or dance rehearsal for the wedding with Axelle.

“
With Marcus. I know. And of course your
precious
Beesly,” she sulks.

“
Okay, before we do this, I have to ask: are you in the dog house again?” The truth about the pre-nuptial finally came out in July and I know things were a bit tense with Andrew, but she told me several times that things were fine now.

“
No I’m not; not everything is about sex, Luce!” she pouts. She serves herself a glass of wine. “Then again, maybe it is for you – always with Marcus, day…and night. Are you guys shacking up now?”

So I have been spending a lot of time with Marcus. I
’m not sure why this is such a bother to her. She has been so busy with the wedding anyway, which is now about six weeks away.

“
I work nearly twelve hours a day to get this album out of the way. And do you know why? So I can go to London with you in four weeks,” I explain, checking on my quiches. “And we’re not shacking up. What gave you that impression?”

“
Guess what I found in your bathroom?” Noor says.

Crap!
Marcus’ stuff. “Why are going in there anyway? I have a two-piece guest one next to the entrance.”

“
Because I’m not a fucking guest!” she overly dramatically shouts. “He’s leaving his personal stuff here now? Why then?”

“
So he doesn’t have to go home in the middle of the night or before sunrise. It’s just convenient,” I explain. Why are we having this conversation?

“
Do you have things there too?”

Yes, after the hair debacle in June I have a kit of my essential in his en suite or my car.

“Well do you?” she insists.

“
I’m not there that much you know,” I cowardly answer.

“
Is that a yes?”

“
Maybe. What’s with the interrogation? I though you liked Marcus.”

“
Luce, you have a boyfriend and you didn’t even tell me? Beesly knew, Axelle knew but not me!”

“
No I don’t!” I say. That’s silly. Or is it? We certainly never used that term. It has only been a little less than two months. “Do I?”

“
When was the last time you guys spent a night apart?”

I
’m drawing a blank, but I’m sure we had. It’s not like we’re having sex every day. I shrug.

“
Was he here last night?”

I nod and smile. I
’m so guilty. Marcus thought it would be romantic to serenade me with Belinda, my guitar. Cat Steven’s “Wild World” never sounded so good.

“
So, what? He sneaked out this morning to go who-knows-where before we got here?”

“
No. He left after having breakfast with B and me. He’s with John watching football at their favorite pub,” I giggle back.

She excitedly points her fingers at me.
“Ah ha! You have a boyfriend,” she giggles.

“
You think? He sang to me last night with Belinda,” I say, giggling again. I can’t shake the smile off my face. We’re fifteen year old teenagers all over again and we’re stuck in Giggletown – population 2.

“
You let him touch and play your precious guitar? Oh, sweetie, you have a boyfriend and you’re in love.” She hugs me, “I’m obviously the first to know. Things are right the world again!” she giggle in triumph. That’s right she’s still in Giggletown.

I left.
“Yes you are,” I let out in complete shock. What the hell, Noor!

Noor’s revelation stayed with me during the luncheon. Am I really in love? That was not the plan. We didn’t have a plan. Maybe we should have had a plan. Nobody has been allowed to play Belinda other than Papa eighteen years ago. It was his last birthday’s gift. He thought the guitar would suit my personality better than the violin. As well-bred English girls, we had all learnt how to play an instrument. Axelle chose the violin, Noor wanted to be like her older sister and I wanted to be like mine. But Papa was right; the guitar was much better and really started my love story with music. And so the legend of Lucita and Belinda was born.

In two days, Monday 3rd August, this civil holiday would have been his fifty-fifth birthday. We
’re having our annual birthday celebration at Axelle’s. Beesly, John and Marcus have been invited. The usual guests will be here: Lloyd, Callia, Kathie, but Greg won’t be present this year; he has already left for his big world tour. But our Tata Céline, Papa’s younger sister, has already arrived in Toronto and is staying with Axelle.

After cleaning up the kitchen, I join Beesly in the living room. She has cleaned up the balcony. Noor conveniently left
with her instructors and friends for some wedding emergencies, leaving Beesly and I alone to do the dirty work. So typical of her! Beesly didn’t complain; she just started cleaning up, sweeping and dusting as soon as Noor left. One of many things I like about Beesly is that she doesn’t complain; her husband is a British dick but she loves him anyway. Her obsession with Lady Gaga is a close second on my list. They’re both from Italian backgrounds. Beesly March was once Elizabetta Fiori, born and raised in Chicago in a strict Catholic family. I also love our shared appreciation for theme movie marathons; since I moved out from Axelle’s house I haven’t been able to have a real decent movie night marathon. But “My Favorite Thing”, if I may quote one of Beesly’s treasured movies, is her kindness.

I sit next to her on the sofa.
“I see you’ve started our Jane Austen marathon without me,” I tell her, seeing the opening credits of
Sense and Sensibility
playing.

“
It’s my favorite,” she says, pausing the movie. “Kate Winslet is so adorable in it. I’m a sucker for happy ending.” She looks at me and laughs. “We will watch
Pride and Prejudice
after. Promise.”

“
The Keira Knightley one or the Colin Firth one?”

“
Keira’s. And we still have
Emma
and
Mansfield Park
to watch.” She starts the movie again.

I cut us a piece of my raspberry tart to go with our coffee.

“B? Are Marcus and I a couple?” I ask her as casually as I can.

“
What do you mean? He’s your boyfriend isn’t he?” She takes a bite and hums.

“
That’s what Noor said but Marcus and I have never had that discussion. It has only been two months. it’s too early. Right?”

“
Don’t look at me; I married Matt four months after meeting him. Six years later, I’m still in love,” she says, batting her eyelashes at me.

“
You guys were kids. Marcus and I are not. But I like him, I really, really do,” I tell her. I still need to work on the “in love” part.

“
I know you do and the two of you are so good together. When you’re working, dancing at parties or just smooching on the couch.” She smiles at me and drinks some coffee, “Even when you decide to play the guitar around midnight. The first months; I miss that,” she adds.

“
But what happens next?” I ask, more to myself than Beesly.

“
First of all, it all started on your birthday four months ago, not two. Don’t you forget that or let him forget. Also, he keeps coming back to you; when was the last time you had a night off, so to speak?” she asks, knowing the answer, being my roommate and all.

Why do they keep asking that? Do I even want a night away from him? Once again I shrug.

“There you go! You’re beaming, Luce, and you stopped stress-baking. My first month here, I really thought that you were moonlighting as a baker somewhere.”

“
I know…and I know,” I say, laughing with her.

“
And I’ve known Marcus for six years and I’ve never seen him so smitten, relaxed and happy. I’m so psyched for you guys!”

“
Really?” I feel much better now. I’ll talk to Marcus.

“
Yes, really. Especially since the end of his engagement with Mary Gillis,” she tells me with a smile. A big innocent smile…

Marcus was engaged?
To The famous singer? “What?”

“
Yes, his old muse. They were all at RAM together, but I’m sure he told you all about it,” she continues with a comforting smile. A big comforting innocent smile…

“
Sure. When was the breakup?” I lie and probe.

“
Which one? The engagement or the off-and-on madness?”

How about the one that would devastate me the least, Beesly? The one thing I don
’t like about her is her way of announcing bad news like it’s good news. I turn my attention back to the movie. Marianne Dashwood and I have a lot in common right now. But unlike her, for the first time in weeks, I’m in need of a night off.

“All I want to do now is take a warm shower,” Lucia says before heading to my en suite. She could have just taken hers with me ten minutes ago, but I didn’t say anything.

Today has been a long one for all of us, especially the Mp
obo-Riddells. Lucia was already there when we arrived around 1.00 p.m. with Beesly. She rung me on Saturday night to ask me to pick her up…Monday afternoon. I did wonder why this couldn’t wait until Sunday but didn’t press the matter. I also didn’t come by that night, something in her voice…and she sort of told me not to – too many things to do before the celebration. I wasn’t sure what to expect and as usual, the ladies didn’t disappoint. Axelle and Paul’s house, or should I call it a mansion, was simply gorgeous. They entertained us outside, under the gazebo, next the gigantic pool. Lucia was at the barbecue, in a sport bikini and holding a red-headed toddler. Mitch was the spitting image of Paul and very protecting of his Atalu. There was enough food to feed one hundred people; Axelle and Noor don’t really cook so only Lucia and their aunt contributed; the others catered.

It was a very moving day. I caught Lucia
’s sad eyes a few times, but the moment was always followed by a reassuring smile. Anecdotes were shared, like the one explaining the origin of Lucia and Noor’s names. Axel Mpobo’s favorite folk band was Accaba, as in Lucia and Nooradine Accaba. They were convinced that Noor was going to be a boy, so they named her after the lead male singer. And Lucia was named after his wife; I thought it explained their borderline unhealthy co-dependency. There were a lot of laughs and a few cries. I got to meet Charisma and Lloyd’s three children. Their oldest, Bonnie, is almost twelve and a real flirt; her parents would have their hands full in a couple of years. And there was little Annie Anderson with the Riddell trademark, big, grey eyes, and the nose just like her mother and aunts. Before we took off, Paul set me aside to have chat. He was the only one doing the talking; I was more worried about Lucia and the distance she had been emotionally and physically putting between us today.