Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 41.2: 1968, Georgina

Chapter 41.2: 1968, Georgina 

 

My wrist turned with the long wooden spoon as the raviolis cooked, some floating to the top of the simmering water in almost elegant motions. Or were they elegant. No, they were. Frankie would say they were elegant, beautiful Italian food. 

The idea of him, in just thirty minutes or less, taking these into his mouth with sweet marinara... The spoon hit the side of the copper pot, and my hand slipped over my mouth, more warm than usual from hovering over the hot water. Oh, his chewing mouth. Chewing the food I cooked for him. His beautiful Italian mouth.

As my eyes were closed came a familiar knock. Six. The clock on the wall said 2:33am. Early? My good hand went to my head, checking my hair. Fingers pulled a perfect curl to the front of my face. It looked wonderful. Was my make-up okay? 

No time to check as the knocking came again. Gentle six knocks. Frankie. His pretty hand knocking on the door with the backs of his knuckes. I'd know it anywhere. 

Leaving the raviolis simmering, the sauce gorgeously bubbling just a little bit, I swept into the living room. My long white silk dress trailed behind me in ripples. The moonlight made it have a glowing sheen, offsetting to make a phantom blue color. 

I clicked the lock away, slid away the chain lock. It rattled against the door as I swung it open, the only sound aside from my beating heart pounding in my ears, so excited to see him. 

And there he was. Smiling at me, that one smile that made me more happy than anything. Oh, there he was, with a white calla lily. His hand gifted me this, his fingers surrounding mine and entwining around the diamond ring he had given me in such love. 

"Frankie," I whispered, my heart not letting me breathe in more than gasps. 

"Its pretty like you, I thought," he said quietly, shy in his way, "there's a whole bouquet of them at the house. I wanted you to have one."

A small pause as I became overwhelmed. His chin tilted up, his eyes closed. This was so lovely. I couldn't help but notice how his dark blonde eyelashes tapered. "Is that sweet marinara?" he asked, sounding very pleased. 

"Oh." I came out of my little admiring dream at his words. "Yes, I'm making ravioli alla marinara. I thought you might be hungry."

"You were right." He giggled and started to lead me eagerly across the living room to the kitchen by the same grasp as when he'd given me the lily. I was absolutely enchanted. This man, pulling my hand. The light cascading from the window drank into him like magic. Contented beams. Such a feeling of well being in every crevice of my body.

His dress shoes clicked on the tile of the kitchen and my bare feet padded behind him. "Mmm," he breathed in, the scents of the food overtaking us. Wandering near the sauce, his eyes fell on the raviolis, large and floating. All of them were floating. "Let me drain that. Its heavy, needs two hands." Ah, draining. Secretly I felt relief. I hadn't thought of what I was going to do when I needed to drain them. Good luck he was here and able to do it for me.

"Okay. Let me find a stem vase. I think there's one around here somewhere." I didn't want to let go of the lily, but I knew in order for it to live I had to. Laying this on the counter, I knelt down to a cabinet next to the oven. Just as I thought, inside it were a few vases and right in the middle was a smoky green glass vase that was just perfect. It was almost as if he'd planned it, having this vase in my apartment.

Knowing him, he might have. 

Like clockwork, he turned on the faucet for me and I filled the skinny vase a bit with water. I shook this to loosen it up, and poked the lily inside. It looked a picture, in solitude but not lonely. As if choreographed, he spun from having drained the raviolis and took the vase delicately with his hand and put it on the table in the kitchen, our favorite table. The sound of the heavy glass bottom hitting the white table cloth was comforting to me.