Chapter 15: Carina’s Afternoon

Dad, Roland and I spent the afternoon talking about golf and sailing and work. Roland was very interested in hearing about dad flying A-330’s across the ocean for a living, and dad was asking Roland about growing up on an estate like this. They both were interested in my golf game and how I had done in the tournament in the Bahamas.

When we got around to discussing my disappearance from the yacht in Martinique, Roland started one of our normal question and answer sessions, delving into the details of exactly what happened and why.

Those kind of sessions were old hat to us, but it was the first time dad had ever seen it and he just sat there in amazement. Roland was of the opinion that I was dealing with some sort of power that was more than just electrical in nature. He hesitated to call it mystical or spiritual, but that’s where he was leaning. We finally agreed that we needed to spend some time together next week, determining the best way to test some of these theories.

Dad told us that he had to return for work next week and so he, mom and Jenna were going home on Monday.

“Alex? You need to go eat and then get dressed for the party,” Isabella said as she walked through the library where we were talking.

Dad looked confused until Roland explained what ‘having a few friends over’ really meant. Then we all headed to the dining room. The ladies had been touring the home and some of the estate and were all chattering away when they entered the dining room. But when Isabella reminded them of the party, they all left in a rush to get ready.

The guests started arriving before seven and continued arriving until after nine. There was a small orchestra set up in the ballroom along with a table laden with all sorts of interesting hors d’oeuvres and a small bar. There were also servers going around with trays of champagne.

Cynthiana had me stand beside her as she greeted every guest as they arrived. Then she took me around, introducing me to her friends and neighbors. I met her next door neighbors, Maria Grazia Chiuri, the creative director at Dior, and her husband, Paolo Regini, who owns a shirt making atelier. He and I spent time discussing single-hull versus multi-hull sailing. They had two children my age, but only their daughter Rachele, came with them tonight. When we were introduced, it was like when I met Tabitha back in Zurich. I was being evaluated.

I met a several film directors including Lorene Scafaria (the film Queens with Jennifer Lopez), and Lulu Wang (Farewell) who both lived in Paris as well as retired football (soccer) star and now coach, Zinedine Zidane, who said to call him Zizou. We didn’t get to talk because he didn’t stay long. I got the impression that he was doing someone a favor in stopping by. Cynthiana didn’t know him, but knew his club’s owner very well.

Antonela Roccuzzo, Leo Messi’s life-long partner came by for a brief visit with some of her family, but without Leo. We briefly discussed charitable works as we compared foundations (her husband/partner started the Leo Messi Foundation).

And of course, there were the captains of French industry, whom I didn’t get their names, but after a short while, I decided that they were probably not all neighbors.

When the last guest had left, I collapsed on a big chair in the entryway. Cynthiana had insisted that I say goodnight to each guest as they left. My dad was on the chair beside me.

“Well, I’ll say this: Your life has certainly changed in the last year!” he told me with pride.

“Our baby is growing up!” my mom added.

I stepped out of the shower in my bedroom and glanced over at the big, four-poster bed. There lay my twin sister, Jenna, in a flimsy, see-through gown.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to spend some time alone with you before I go back home,” she said.

I dropped my towel and sat beside her on the bed and began running my fingers across her flat tummy. I gently parted her gown and began teasing her nipples and breasts and then leaned down to kiss her.

Technically, I knew she was my twin sister, but ever since the lightning strike and our forced separation, I had come to look at her more as a woman than a relative. Oh, we still shared the twin connection. That magical ability to sometimes know what the other was thinking or feeling, but we also shared a special love that could not be limited by technicalities like sibling or twin or even incest. I figured that those were problems for the rest of the world. For me there was only Jenna and the love I felt in my heart when we were together.

Security knocked on our door sometime later. They were seeing a bright light shining through my bedroom window and came to investigate. But someone, probably Isabella or Roland, put them at ease and they left without disturbing us.

Sunday mornings in a large Paris country home was much like Sunday mornings everywhere else as everyone lay around with their favorite breakfast drink, munching on homemade pastries while reading their favorite Sunday paper online. Roland was going to take Dad hunting somewhere on the estate while Cynthiana and her daughters were taking mom and Jenna to the local market for some last minute shopping before they went home.

Carina decided to stay and babysit me.

“I’ve missed you,” she said. “But we really need to talk before I show you how much.”

“What’s on your mind?” I asked.

“A baby,” she replied. “I know we talked about it last week in Martinique, but I wanted to talk again now that you’ve had time to think on it. Are you still comfortable with giving me a child?”