"You could always take the Minister of Treasury job," Helen offered. "Put your theories into practice." Since she'd been in charge, Helen made it clear to the Minister that if a man named Troy Equals ever came into his office and said he wanted the job, the Minister would immediately be transferred to another post in the government. Because she occasionally reminded Troy of the offer, she already knew his response.
"You know that's too high profile for me, Helen. We have enough famous people in the family." Troy answered, patting Julie's knee. Julie's art career had taken off since Helen became her patron. Between this and Helen and the twins being royalty, he was closer to the spotlight than he'd have preferred.
"What about your other plan?" Brenda asked, getting dressed to leave. "Troy's got his degree; you've got your studio going. When are kids coming?"
"Wonderful impression of my mom." Julie said back with a smile. "We made those plans before Byroni and Vincenzo were part of the family. Now that they are, we're fine with letting it happen naturally."
"The way you two fuck," Susan added. "It will."
Brenda went home. The others went to bed to dream of the future.
* * *
Scene: Jeanne's first day at Castle Finzione. She's been told La Contessa's secret and just seen her room. Now she is looking for La Contessa.
A bit less than an hour later, Jeanne found Contessa Helena de San Finzione smoking in the dining room. She was not seated at the table, but at a smaller chair and a side table with an ash tray and a box of Kleenex on it, in front of two paintings that hung side-by-side on the far wall on the room. The chair and table were out of place with all the other furnishings in the room, however had been deliberately positioned where they were as though La Contessa had ordered long ago that they were not meant to be moved from their spot. As Jeanne approached, she thought she heard a clicking sound coming from La Contessa's unseen hand that didn't hold a burning cigarette.
"Don't worry, Jeanne," Helen said in French without turning to see who was approaching her. There was a small choke in her voice, and Jeanne could now see a wastebasket beneath the table that had several wadded-up Kleenex at the bottom. "I don't come here as often as I should. Maria couldn't have thought to inform you yet that I usually prefer to be left alone when I am sitting here."
"I am disturbing you." Jeanne said, turning to leave.
"No. No, really, I'd like you to. Pull up a chair." She looked around. The nearest chairs were for a covered children's table that was not going to be used that evening, and Jeanne took one of those. She positioned it to sit behind and to the left of La Contessa, when Helen motioned for her to bring the chair forward and sit by her side, her face never turning from the wall.
Jeanne sat and looked over at her. Helen had been careful to catch her tears before they damaged her makeup, and only by sitting this close could Jeanne notice the spots where she'd been too late. She looked down and saw that the rattling sound was coming from a string of beads that Helen rolled back and forth in her palm.
Jeanne looked up at the paintings of two different white-haired old men. The one on the right had been a posed portrait of a handsome old gentleman in royal garb with a trimmed white goatee and mustache. The one on the left had been painted from a photograph of a smiling old man with a larger, bushier beard and mustache; his arms open wide, ready for a hug. Jeanne at first thought he might be Father Christmas due to the beard and red smoking jacket that he wore before noticing the tan trousers and lack of a hat. There was nothing on the wall to the painting's left; however, space had been reserved for another.
"The man on the right," Helena informed her. "Is Count Vincenzo Ramon de San Finzione, forever does he reign in our hearts. My first..." She took a drag of her cigarette before continuing. "And last husband." She turned to face the other man. "This man was no one you would have heard of. His name was Byroni Medina. Everyone who knew him called him Propappou, which is Greek for Great-Grandfather. The only reason that the spot on the wall to the left of him is bare is because his Great-Grandson has refused all of my requests to sit for a portrait."
"With what you can do, I would not think any man could refuse you anything."
Helen's response came after another long drag.
"He can." she said flatly. Jeanne sensed that the subject was closed and returned her gaze to Propappou's painting.
"He seems quite nice." Jeanne said. Helen nodded, not looking away from the paintings.
"He was the one who taught me that the concept of 'nice' exists in the world. I never really had a father; not one worth speaking of, anyway. When I still believed that prayer accomplished anything, I used to pray that he could be my father."
"You no longer believe?"
Helen took a long drag of her cigarette and tamped it out.
"What I got instead of a father beat that idea to death along with my mother. The American courts buried it for good when they said Propappou was too old to adopt me."
Helen dumped the contents of the ash tray into the wastebasket once she was sure they were out. She stood and turned to face Jeanne.
"Guests will be coming shortly. Tonight, you are a guest too, so you do not serve. Your seat will be across from Generalissimo Santori and between the Minister of Science and myself. I'm sorry to throw you into such a position before you've even officially started; however, Lady Maria says that the Generalissimo makes her uncomfortable, and prefers to be seated away from him. If he makes you uncomfortable, mention 'that matter in the garden' to me at dinner, and I'll find an excuse to dismiss you from the table."
Jeanne nodded. She wasn't certain what she was getting into, but any idea of certainty ended for her at Le Bourget. She stood as well.
"My background check should have covered known food allergies," Helen continued. "However, if you have any preferences that you wish to discuss with the chef, the kitchen is through that door. You should probably meet him anyway before we begin, since you'll be working with him and his staff, too. Don't feel awkward about them serving you tonight; you are a special guest, and so were they, at a dinner like this one when they started, too. It's a little more special for you, but we can discuss that later. I have to go prepare for my entrance. It's a big part of this job."
Jeanne didn't have any food allergies, but it was not a bad idea to meet some of the other staff. As Helena was leaving, Jeanne called to her.
"Madame Contessa?"
Helen gave a tiny laugh at that.
"I'm only six years older than Lady Maria and yourself, Jeanne. My preference is simply 'Contessa,' but yes?"
Jeanne mimed the spots on her own face to show where Helena's makeup had been marred by her tears. She nodded her understanding.
"Thank you, Jeanne." She said with a smile as she left.
