Flight

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Photo by:  Jodi McKinney

She had to get out of there before someone showed up.  It would be disastrous for her reelection bid.  After making sure nothing was there to implicate her in any way, she ran out of the cottage and to her car.  After fumbling in her handbag for the keys, she started the engine and sped away.

Behind her the sun was setting.  It would be completely dark by the time she got to the office.  She’d go through the private entrance to avoid the security guard at the front. As far as anyone was concerned, she’d been at her desk all this time preparing her speech for tomorrow.

Hours later, the police responding to a tip, went to the cottage and found a naked man lying on the sofa.  It appeared that he’d suffered from a heart attack.

She was in her office, when the phone rang.  “Hello?”

“Madam Mayor?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Kelsey Bryant from NBC calling to confirm that we’re still on for tomorrow.”

“Yes, Kelsey.”

“Great.  Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”  I need a drink.

174 Words

This was written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy and Joe. For more information visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

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Dinner at Sunset

Noelle was having a private meeting with Barry Forbes in her office when the door opened and Sandra, her secretary walked in.  Noelle glanced up at her, unable to hide her irritation at the disruption but before she could say anything, Sandra spoke. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Noelle, but I have an urgent phone call for Mr. Forbes.”

Immediately an expression of concern crossed Barry’s face and he asked, “Who is it from?”

“It’s your wife.  She sounds very upset.”

Noelle said to him, “You can take the call on my phone.”

“It’s on line one,” Sandra said.

Noelle picked up the receiver, handed it to him and pressed the line one button.  She watched as Barry spoke to his wife and saw his face go pale.  It must be very serious, she thought in alarm.  As soon as he was finished speaking, she said to him, “If you have to go, go.”

“It’s Sam, our youngest daughter.  She was struck by a car and they said it was very serious.  My wife’s at the hospital now.”  He stood up and pulled on his jacket, his hands trembling slightly.

“I hope and pray that she will be okay,” she said.  “Are you okay to drive?”

He nodded.  “I’ll be fine.  I’m just a bit shaken up.”

Noelle got up and walked with him to the elevator.  “Please call me on my cell and let me know how Sam is.”  She reached out and clasped his hand.

“I will,” he promised.  The doors of the elevator opened and he stepped in.  He leaned against the wall as they closed.

Noelle stood there for several minutes, praying that Samantha would pull through.  She was only fifteen, the same age as Tatiana.  She couldn’t imagine how she would feel if she were to receive news that her sister had met with a terrible accident.

“Are you all right?” a voice inquired behind her.  She turned and found herself staring up into a pair of amazing blue eyes.  They belonged to Horst, the new director of the company.  He was absolutely gorgeous with thick, wavy black hair, athletic build and a deep, sexy voice with a German accent.  As usual when she was around him, her heart began to beat faster.

“No,” she said.  “Barry Forbes and I were having a meeting a few minutes ago when he got an urgent phone call from his wife.  Their youngest daughter, Samantha got struck down by a car and is in serious condition.  Barry is heading over to the hospital right now.  Poor man.  I hope Samantha will be all right.”

Horst’s eyes filled with sympathy.  “I hope so too,” he said quietly.  “I remember how awful it was for my parents and me when my older brother had a skiing accident.  He was in such serious condition that they didn’t think he would survive but, thank God, he did.  After months of physiotherapy, he was fully recovered.  He walks with a slight limp but the important thing is he survived.  I’m sure the doctors will do all they can for Samantha.”

Noelle smiled slightly.  “Thanks,” she said.  “I feel a little better.”

“Good,” he said, rubbing her arm.

She swallowed hard, hardly able to think straight because of the sensation of his fingers on her bare arm, stirring up all sorts of sensations.

“Noelle, have dinner with me tonight at my place,” he said, startling her.  His eyes held hers in a steady gaze and his expression was intense.  “We can sit on the terrace overlooking the ocean while we eat.  It’s summer so the sun wouldn’t set until around nine.  We can watch the sun set.”

It took a while for it to sink in that he was asking her to have what sounded like a romantic dinner with him at his beach house.  Of course, she was going to accept his invitation.  She would be a fool not to.  She would worry about what to wear later.  “Yes,” she said now rather breathlessly.  “Dinner sounds wonderful.  What time would you like me to be there?”

His features became relaxed.  “Come for seven,” he said.

She expelled a shaky breath when he stopped rubbing her arm and placed it in his pocket.  “I’ll be there for seven.”

“Good.”  He smiled, making her heart melt before he excused himself and walked away.

The rest of the day was a complete blur for her.  Then, it was time to leave.  It was Friday and a great start to the weekend.  As she drove home, she wondered how things fared at the hospital and hoped that Barry would call her.

As soon as she got home, she took a quick shower and then went through her wardrobe for something to wear.  She chose to wear a long, floral print off the shoulder summer dress with a side slit below the knee and a pair of wedge heeled sandals.  Her hair was pulled back in a French knot.  Satisfied with the way she looked, she grabbed her handbag, keys and left the flat, her heart racing with excitement.  It was a lovely evening.  The sunshine was bright and it was a very pleasant drive up the coast.

Horst answered the door soon after she rang the bell.  He smiled broadly, clearly delighted to see her and his gaze traveled over her as he held the door open for her to go in.  “You look beautiful,” he remarked after closing the door and turning to face her.

She smiled self-consciously.  “Thank you.”  He looked incredibly handsome in the black shirt and dark blue jeans.  His hair was a bit tousled.  Her fingers itched to bury themselves in the thick, silky tresses.  Realizing that she was staring, she turned away.

“Come, let me give you a quick tour of the place before we have dinner.”  He led her through the foyer and into the living-room which was bright and airy with lots of natural light coming through the windows.  The stunning all white living-room decor looked like something she would see in Elle Decor magazine.

The kitchen was large and bright with windows, unlike hers.  It had granite counter-tops, an island with chairs.  The tantalizing aroma of dinner lingered in the air although the windows were open. There were three guest bedrooms and the master bedroom.  The master bedroom was decidedly masculine and the French doors opened onto the balcony, affording one an unobstructed view of the sea.  It must be a treat to wake up to that every morning, she mused as she followed him to the terrace.

“Have a seat, while I go and get dinner.”  He held out the chair that was facing the sea for her to sit in.  Then, he went off to the kitchen.

While he was gone, Noelle leaned back in the chair and surveyed the table which was covered in a white cloth, with a vase of red roses in the center.  There were two glasses and a bucket of ice with a bottle of what she supposed to be wine in it.  There were utensils and napkins.  And there were two white candles.  They were not lit.  Perhaps he was going to light them after the sun set.

She smiled, breathing in the tangy salt air.  The beach was deserted.  It was nice and peaceful unlike where she lived.  She watched as the shallow frothy waters rolled onto the sand.  It must be so nice taking long walks, with nothing but sand, sea and sky around for miles and miles.

Horst brought out two salads and sat down in the chair on her right.  After he said a prayer, they tucked into the Quinoa, Beet, and Arugula Salad.

“This is delicious,” Noelle exclaimed.  “I’m so used to having the Greek or Italian or green salads.  This is a really nice change.”

He smiled.  “I ate this salad at a restaurant a couple of months ago and always promised myself that I would make it.”

Twenty minutes later, he brought out the main course.  She gazed at the plate with the Crispy Parmesan Garlic Chicken with Zucchini, her mouth watering with anticipation.  “You’re an amazing cook,” she said after having a mouthful.  “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“I learned fast that eating out could be expensive so I taught myself to cook.  I searched the Internet for different recipes and tried them.  After lots of trials and errors, I finally got it right.”

“Well, you’ve definitely got it right.  I can’t get over how soft and succulent the chicken is.”

“Thank you.”  He poured the wine into the two glasses.  It had a sweet and savory taste.

“So, now I know that you are a great cook.”

“What else would you like to know about me?”

“I can tell from your accent that you’re German.”

“Yes, I was born in Hamburg, Germany.  I always wanted to come to America.  I used to watch a lot of American movies.  I especially liked the classics and the westerns.  My favorite western was The Magnificent Seven with German actor, Horst Buchholz.  After I graduated from university, I moved here.  Initially, my parents weren’t happy but when they visited and saw how well I was doing, they became supportive.”

“Are you an only child?”

“No.  I have an older brother and a younger sister.  He lives in Berlin with his family and my sister lives in Vienna with her husband.  He teaches at the Vienna University of Technology and she works as a nurse at a private clinic.”

She asked him more questions about himself and his family and then it was his turn to ask questions about her.  That evening they learned more about each than they had in all the years they worked together.

After dinner, she helped him to clear the table and he stacked the dirty plates, glasses into the dishwasher.  “Are you up for dessert?” he asked.

She shook her head.  “Not right now, thanks,” she said, patting her stomach.  “I don’t think I have any more room for it.”

“All right.  Let’s go back on the terrace and watch the sun set as promised.”

They sat down facing the ocean.  Ten minutes later the sun began its descent.  As Noelle watched it set, Longfellow’s quote came to her.  “Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai.”  

They sat there for a while longer.  It was such a fun evening that she didn’t want to leave but it was getting late and the drive home was close to 80 minutes.  “I’d better be heading home now,” she said, getting up from the table.

“Do you have plans for tomorrow?” he asked as he walked her to the door.

She shook her head.  And even if she did, she would happily cancel them.

“Spend the day with me tomorrow.  Come for eight so that we can have breakfast together and bring a swimsuit.”

“Sounds wonderful,” she said with a smile.  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.  Thank you for a lovely dinner and evening.”  Are we going to kiss goodnight?  For some women it might be too soon but not for me.  I’ve wanted to kiss this man for a very long time.

He wanted to kiss her so badly but didn’t want to rush things.  Instead, he reached down and kissed her on the cheek.  When he drew back, his eyes were dark when they met her wide ones and his face was slightly flushed.  “It was my pleasure,” he said huskily.  “I wanted to ask you over for dinner for a very long time.”

The air was suddenly very charged between them.  Her skin tingled where his lips had been and her heart was pounding wildly.  “I-I’m glad you finally got around to it,” she stammered.

“So am I.  I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Noelle.  Call me when you get home tonight.”

Noelle opened her mouth to say something when just then, her cell rang.  It was Barry.  He called to tell her that Samantha’s condition was stable and the doctors were very optimistic that she would make a full recovery.  “Thank God,” Noelle exclaimed.  “Thanks for calling, Barry.  We’ll be in touch.”  She ended the call and put the phone back into her bag.

“His daughter is going to be all right,” she said to Horst.  “I’m so relieved.”

“I’m sure her family is very relieved too,” he replied, his expression tense.  “Noelle…”

“I should leave now,” Noelle said but she didn’t move.  She stood there gazing up at him, her breath quickening.

Groaning thickly, he reached for her, the desire in his eyes almost scorching her as he pressed her against him.  His lips found hers and ravaged them.  She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back.  After several minutes of exchanging passionate kisses, he drew back to gasp, “Spend the night with me.”

She nodded.  “Yes,” she managed to say before he lowered his head again to kiss her.

Two hours later, clad in dressing-gowns, they were relaxing on two chaise lounge chairs on the balcony outside of his bedroom, having two Black Forest Cannoli Parfaits with a view of the moonlit ocean before them.  It was a perfect end to a perfect evening.  The following morning, they had a late breakfast before she went home.

They became romantically involved and a year later, they got married.  On the first evening after they returned from their honeymoon, they had a sumptuous dinner, which Noelle prepared, on the terrace and watched as the sun set over the horizon.

Source:  AZ Quotes

 

 

A Memorable Birthday

Todd had finally provoked her into ending their relationship.  She refused to continue to tolerate his wandering eye and embarrassing behavior in public.  He tried to sweet talk her into taking him back but it didn’t work this time.  She was fed up with him and wanted a break from relationships.  She was just going to concentrate on her career.  Right now she was at her beach house in Devon, enjoying the solitude and the sound of the waves was very soothing.

One afternoon she was walking on the beach when she saw a stranger sitting on sandy mound, watching her.  She stopped and stared at him, wondering who he was and why he was there.  Curious, she approached him.  He stood up, his six feet plus frame making her feel small.  Well dressed in a dark blue suit over a purple shirt, he was extremely handsome and was most likely in his mid to late twenties.  “What are you doing here?  This is a private beach.”

“Miss Flanning, I’m sorry to be trespassing but I had to see you,” he explained.  “You see, my mother is a big fan of yours and she’s celebrating her fiftieth birthday this Saturday.  I was hoping that if you weren’t otherwise engaged, you would come and sing for her as a surprise.  It would be a real treat for her and most likely the best gift she has ever had.”

Lola was touched by his request.  “I don’t have any engagements this weekend so I will be more than happy to do this for your mother.”

He looked very relieved and smiled.  “Thank you, Miss Flanning,” he said.

She smiled.  “Please call me Lola,” holding out her hand.  “What’s your name?”

“Julian Mortimer.”  They shook hands.

“What time is the party?” she asked.

“At seven.  Here are the particulars,” he added, reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket and taking out an invitation which he gave her.   “I’d like you to come at eight.  By then everyone will be there.”

She took the invitation.  “I’ll be there at eight,” she promised.  “This is a very thoughtful thing you’re doing for your mother.”

“Thank you.  Every year I give her flowers or take her to the opera or ballet but this year I wanted to do something different for her fiftieth birthday.  I surfing the Internet for ideas when I came across a recent interview you had on the BBC.  And the thought occurred to me what a wonderful treat it would be for my mother to have you sing at her birthday party.  The only problem was I didn’t know how to get close to you.  Then, I remembered that one of my friends knows your publicist and he spoke to her on my behalf and here I am.  I hope you don’t mind and that your publicist doesn’t get into trouble because of me.”

“Don’t worry.  No one’s going to get fired or anything like that.  Besides,  I trust my publicist’s judgment and obviously, she believed that this was a worthy cause.  And I must admit that singing at a private venue is a welcome change.”

“Well, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this.  My mother will be thrilled.”

“Are you and she close?”

He nodded.  “Yes, we are.  I’m an only child and after my father died, we became closer because I was all she had.  She doted on and still does.  I love her dearly and would do anything for her.”

“She’s a very lucky woman to have a son like you,” she remarked.

“I believe that I’m the lucky one.”  He glanced at his watch.  “I must be going,” he said apologetically.  He held out his hand.  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Lola.”

She shook his hand.  “It was a pleasure meeting you too, Julian.”

“I look forward to seeing you on Saturday.”

“I look forward to being there.  Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”  He smiled, making her heart skip a beat before turning and walking away.

She stood there watching his retreating back until he was no longer visible before she turned and walked along the water’s edge.  Truthfully, she was looking forward to seeing him again too.

Saturday came.  She opted to wear a black pant suit with a white sequin top.  Her only jewelry were a pair of pearl earrings.  After examining herself in the mirror and satisfied with the results, she grabbed her handbag and left the house.

Twenty minutes later she was driving up a long, winding driveway flanked by imposing trees until the mansion suddenly came into view.  Her mouth dropped open.  It was was magnificent and it reminded her of one of those mansions she saw in the show, Hidden Mansions or something out of a Jane Austen novel.  The stately home made her beach house look like a doll’s house in comparison.  She parked her car where she saw other cars parked and got out.

Heart racing, she went up the short flight of stairs to the enormous door and stared at the antique lion door knocker before lifting it to alert someone inside that she was there.  A few minutes later, the door opened an gentleman stood there.  She presumed that he was the butler.  “Good evening,” he said.  “You must be Miss Flanning.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Master Julian informed me that you would be coming at this time.  Please come in and I will take you directly to the drawing-room where they are.”

“Thank you,” she said, stepping inside and followed him through an impressive entrance hall with two side by side winding staircases to an exquisitely beautiful drawing room with antique furniture, rug, decorative walls, paintings, high ceiling, gigantic hanging chandelier and enormous windows through which light streamed and afforded one an unobstructed view of lush and immaculate green lawns.  She didn’t have time to really appreciate her surroundings as she was aware that there were over thirty people in the room watching her.  To her relief, Julian was one of them and he immediately came over to her, looking extremely pleased to see her.  “Hello,” he said.  “It’s good to see you again.”

“Hello,” she said, feeling a bit nervous.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said.  “You look very beautiful.”

“Thank you.  And you don’t look bad yourself.”  He looked amazing and very elegant in the black suit and black tie and with his hair slicked back.

He smiled.  “Thank you.  Come let me introduce you to my mother.”  Taking her arm, he escorted her over to the group.

“Which one is she?” she asked.

“The one in the wheelchair,” he answered, startling her.  “My mother has Multiple sclerosis.”

She glanced up at him.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come tonight.”

“I would have come regardless.  How is she doing?”

“Her symptoms come and go in phases.  There are times when she suffers from fatigue and other times when she seems fine.  Right now, she seems fine.”

“Does she live here on her own?”

“No, I live here too and she has a live-in nurse.  Between the two of us, we take care of her.  I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees you.”

Lola blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes and put on a bright smile as she stood behind him.

“Mother, I have a big birthday surprise for you.”

She glanced up at him.  “What is it?” she asked.

“Here she is.” He stepped aside while she stepped forward.

“Happy birthday, Mrs. Mortimer.”

She saw the woman’s eyes widened in shock.  “Lola Flanning?” she exclaimed, turning to look up at Julian.  “You brought Lola Flanning to my party?”

Julian beamed.  “Yes, Mother.  I wanted to surprise you.”

Mrs. Mortimer’s returned to Lola who held out her hand.  The older woman grasped it, her eyes welling with tears.  “I can’t believe that you’re here,” she said.  “Thank you.”

Lola covered her hand with her other one and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.  “It was my pleasure,” she said when she drew back, her own eyes moist.

“Yes, Mother, Lola graciously agreed to come and sing for you on your birthday.”

“I look forward to hearing you sing,” Mrs. Mortimer said, “but first, sit beside me.  Have you had anything to eat?”

“Actually, no, but–”

“Julian, please have Sophie fix a plate for Miss Flanning.”

“Please call me Lola and I really don’t want to put you to any trouble–”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Mrs. Mortimer insisted.

Julian excused himself and quickly left the room.  After he was gone, Mrs. Mortimer introduced Lola to the rest of the guests, some of whom were also fans and asked for her autograph.  They were excited that she was going to sing.  One of the women, remarked, “I was so relieved when I read that you had broken up with that womanizer, Todd Collins.  You deserve better.”

Lola smiled but didn’t answer.  Just then, Julian returned with a plate of a variety of delicious looking and mouth-watering smelling food.  Feeling a bit self-conscious, she began to eat it while the conversation kept going, touching on all sorts of topics ranging from her career to hot vacation spots and favorite charitable organizations.

After she finished eating and was ready, Julian sat behind the piano while she stood beside it and began to sing, her voice smooth and soulful as she belted out her popular ballads while the others watched rapt.  Mrs. Mortimer relaxed in her chair with a smile on her face.  Julian’s eyes were on her the whole time as his fingers ran over the keys.  An hour later, the room was filled with thunderous applause and after bowing graciously, Lola resumed her seat next to Mrs. Mortimer who thanked her, her expression one of deep gratitude.

“You’re more than welcome, Mrs. Mortimer.”

“Please call me, Olivia.  You’ve made this birthday the happiest I have ever had.”

“You owe it all to Julian.”

“Yes,” she agree, looking over to where he stood talking to a couple.  “He’s my pride and joy.  Besides God, he has been my rock through the rough moments of this terrible disease.  I don’t know how much longer I have but I hope and pray that before I go, I will see him settle down with a good woman.”

“Whoever she is, she’d be very lucky to have him,” Lola commented, her eyes wandering over to where Julian was.  Too bad I’m not ten years younger, she thought regretfully.

Just then Julian turned and their eyes met.  Mrs. Mortimer observed them and a smile tugged at her lips.  “It seems like I don’t have to wait long to get my wish,” she remarked and Lola turned to look at her inquiringly.

“I beg your pardon?”

Mrs. Mortimer.  “I was just saying that it has been a long time since I’ve had so much fun.”  That was true.  Tonight was a wonderful evening—one that she would never forget.  And she wished it would last longer but she suddenly felt very tired and she couldn’t prevent the yawn she had been trying to stifle.  In a flash, Julian was at her side.

“Mother, you’re tired.”

“No, I’m not,” she protested.  “Stop fussing.”

“You’re tired,” he insisted.  “I can see it on your face.  It’s after ten.  You should be going to bed now.  I will take you up to your room and Margaret will take care of you.  Please don’t argue with me, Mother.  Say goodnight to Lola and your other guests.”

Mrs. Mortimer sighed.  “Sometimes I wonder who is the parent and who is the child.  Very well, Son, I will say goodnight to these good people and then retire.”  Everyone in the room took turns wishing her all the best and made plans to visit when she was ready.  After they said goodnight to Lola, they left.

Lola took the older woman’s hands in hers.  “Olivia, it was a real treat for me to be here tonight.  You’re one of the most gracious and strong women I have ever met.  And it is my hope that we will see each other again.”

Olivia squeezed her hands.  “Have tea with me one afternoon,” she said.  “I will have Julian get in touch with you.  Thank you for making this birthday a memorable one.  God bless you.  Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Lola released her hands and straightened up.  She looked at Julian who was watching her, his expression inscrutable.

“Don’t leave,” he said.  “I will be back shortly.”

“I’ll wait here,” she promised.  After watching him wheel his mother out of the room, she turned and walked over to the windows.  It was dark outside but the lights from the house illuminated the grounds.  She had once considered buying a stately home not far from here but decided to get the beach house instead because it required less maintenance and she liked being close to the ocean.   She wondered what it was like for Julian to grow up in this house and if it was ever lonely for him.  As a child, she had lots of friends and family to play and spend time with so she never experienced loneliness.

She turned when she heard Julian come into the room.  He joined her at the window.  “How is she?” she asked.

“She seems fine.  I left Margaret reading the Bible to her.”

“Your mother is a remarkable woman.  I admire her.”

He smiled.  “Yes, I’m a great admirer of her too.  Her inner strength is all due to her faith and it was one of the qualities that my father loved about her.  Would you like to take a short walk around the grounds before you leave?”

“Sure.  I was admiring them earlier when I first walked into this room.”

They went outside.  It was a balmy night.   He took her around the grounds, showing her the tennis court, the swimming pool and the Garden fountain where they paused for a little while as she admired its details.

As they made their way back to the front of the mansion, she asked,  “Was living here ever lonely for you?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted.  “But, I tried not to show it because I didn’t want Mother to know because she tried so hard to make my life here as content as possible.  As I got older, life got better and attending university helped because I made lots of friends whom my mother invited to spend the summer and Christmas holidays.  I could tell that she loved having a house filled with young people but after I left university, we decided that we wanted it to be like it used to be.  So, we spend quiet summers and Christmases.  And that’s fine for me.  We enjoy each other’s company.”

“I can tell that the two of you have a special bond which I don’t think it will change when you get married—”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face her.  “So, she has been talking to you about my future.”

She nodded.  “Yes, she expressed her wish to see you settle down with a good woman while she’s still around.”

“Do you wish to see me marry a good woman?”

She lowered her eyes.  “It doesn’t matter what I wish.”  The thought of him getting married bothered her more than she cared to admit.  How was it possible for her to care so much about a man she’d only met once before now?

“It matters to me, Lola.  Do you know that all during the week, I have thought of nothing else but seeing you again?  I couldn’t concentrate on my work.  I kept seeing your lovely face.  And tonight, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.  You take my breath away, Lola…”

Her head shot up then, her eyes wide as they met his and her heartbeat accelerating at an alarming rate when she saw the expression on his face.  “We-we shouldn’t be having this conversation,” she stammered.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Well, because…How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“I’m thirty-nine.  Next year May, I’ll turn forty.”

He seemed unfazed.  “It doesn’t matter that you’re older than me.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to be with a woman closer to your age?”

“I’ve dated women my age but I was never attracted to any of them the way I’m attracted to you.  So, the answer to your question is no.  I would rather be with you.”

“Well, you can’t be with me,” she told him in frustration because for one maddening moment, she wanted to grab the lapels of his jacket, pull him against her and plant one on him.  She was so attracted to him that it drove her crazy and scared her at the same time.  “I–I need to go now.”  She started to walk away when he caught her by the shoulders.

“Why?” he demanded, his eyes searching her averted face, his grip tightening as she struggled to break free.  “Are you afraid of what would happen between us if you stayed, Lola?  Are you afraid that if I were to kiss you, you wouldn’t want to leave?”  He was breathing heavily now and she could feel his body against her, awakening a desire in her that was so strong it made her gasp and then, his mouth was on hers, devouring it feverishly.  And for one unguarded moment, she responded wildly as she tried desperately to assuage the hunger that was raging inside her.

Then, she came to her senses and with supreme effort she pushed him away and ran to her car, panting.  She got in, slammed the door and after fumbling for the key, she put it in the ignition and the engine roared to life.  When she saw him coming towards her, she frantically put the car in reverse and then sped off.  As soon as she got home, she took a cold shower before she went to bed.  Sleep evaded her.  Her mind was spinning.  All she could think about was the kiss and how much she wanted him.  She closed her eyes in despair.   Julian Mortimer had breached the fortress she had built around her heart.

Three weeks passed since that night.  She was restless.  Her thoughts were filled with Julian.  Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face and her longing for him clawed at her relentlessly, driving her crazy.  Sleep was fitful and it was hard to concentrate on anything because her mind was constantly on him.  She gave up trying to write the new lyrics and went out on the balcony.  The water was calm and she envied it.  The sun was high, bathing the sea and sand in its golden light.  Seagulls soared in the sky.  What a glorious day.  Too bad she couldn’t enjoy it.

Something caught her eye and she started when she realized that it was Julian.  Heart thudding, she ran down the steps and down the grassy slope to the water’s edge where he stood, hands in pockets, facing the ocean.  He was less formally dressed this time, clad in a white shirt and tan slacks.  There wasn’t a wrinkle of crease anywhere on his clothes.  As usual, they looked like they had just come straight off the rack.

“Julian, what are you doing here?” she called out just before she reached him.

He turned at once to face her, his gaze traveling slowly over her figure in the light green top and denim shorts, his gaze lingering on her bare legs.  “Mother wants you to have tea with her tomorrow afternoon at two–that if you aren’t busy.”

“You could have called or emailed me,” she told him.  “You didn’t have to come in person.”  Although I’m thrilled to see you. 

“All right,” he sighed.  “I came because I can’t stay away any longer.  I had to see you, LolaI can’t stop thinking about the last time we saw each other.  When we kissed…”  His eyes dropped to her mouth, his darkening at the memory.

“Julian, we can’t do this,” she protested.  “I’m much older than you.”  The truth was he scared her because the feelings he aroused in her were so powerful and unlike anything she had ever experienced.  What she once felt for Todd paled in comparison.  Her heart urged her to throw caution to the wind and give into her feelings but her mind resisted.

“Lola, please don’t let our age difference prevent us from being together.  Ever since we met, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and longing to be with you.”

“Julian, please…” She felt her resolve weakening fast, especially as he pulling her against him.  The expression on his face mirrored the emotions that were raging inside her, making so hard for her to resist him.  She wanted him with every fiber of her being but…Her hands came up to push him away.

“I know you feel the same way,” he persisted, his eyes darkening on her face.  “I felt it when we kissed and I can see it in your eyes right now.  Oh, Lola…” he moaned thickly before he bent his head and kissed her.

Powerless against her feelings and him, the hands that had tried to push him away gripped the back of his shirt as she kissed him back feverishly, blindly and with total abandon.

They entered into a relationship.  In April of the following year, they got married, much to the delight of Mrs. Mortimer.  Nine months later, she held Olivia, her first grandchild in her arms and as she smiled down into the red, crinkly face, she silently thanked God for granting her far more than she had expected.

 

Source:  NHS Choices;

Margaret Trudeau

How many women can claim to be the wife of one Prime Minister and the mother of another?  On Monday, October 19, 2015, Margaret Trudeau watched as the results came in announcing her son Justin Trudeau as Canada’s next Prime Minister.  She watched as her son and his party went from being third in the long race to head the race and then make history as they won, garnering 184 seats, exceeding the majority of 170 seats.  According to Michael Den Tandt:

Justin Trudeau, the eldest son of Pierre Elliott Trudeau, has resurrected his party, confounded his critics, defied the naysayers and trolls, overcome his own mistakes and resoundingly defeated two tough, smart, determined opponents who cannot have imagined anything like this outcome.

A minority was presaged by many polls. A majority, and a broad one at that, is beyond the Liberals’ wildest hopes.

In pulling this off, Trudeau, 43, has made history. Canada has its first political dynasty.

I can just imagine the pride that filled Margaret and no doubt, she thought of her former husband, Pierre and how proud he would have been of their son.   When she held the infant Justin in her arms, did she ever imagine that he would one day follow in his father’s footsteps?

As I watched her with her daughter-in-law, son and grandchildren in their hotel room watching the results, I wondered who this woman was.  What was her story?

Margaret was born in Vancouver to Doris Kathleen and James Sinclair, a former Liberal member of the Parliament of Canada and the Minister of Fisheries and Oceans.  She attended Simon Fraser University where she studied English Literature.

At the age of 18, when vacationing in Tahiti, she met Pierre Trudeau, then Minister of Justice.  It seemed like she was destined to be in the world of politics.  Interestingly enough, Margaret didn’t recognize Pierre and thought little of their encounter.  However, he was captivated by this carefree “flower child”.  She was thirty years his junior but that didn’t stop him from pursuing her.

When he became Prime Minister in 1968, Pierre was still a bachelor.  After keeping their relationship private, he stunned the country by marrying 22 year old Margaret in 1971 at a private ceremony in West Vancouver.  Not surprisingly, the age difference raised some eyebrows among Canadians but this behaviour was typical of the Prime Minister who “prided himself on his progressive  views and youthful vigour”.

Pierre Trudeau was a Catholic so Margaret converted to his religion.  When asked about her role in her marriage to the Prime Minister, she said, “I want to be more than a rose in my husband’s lapel.”

Life as the wife of a Prime Minister was not easy.  It took some adjusting for Margaret.  She wrote in her memoirs, “a glass panel was gently lowered into place around me, like a patient in a mental hospital who is no longer considered able to make decisions and who cannot be exposed to a harsh light.”  They had three children, Justin being the eldest.  They appeared to have a very close and loving relationship but the marriage soon began to fall apart.  Margaret resented her husband’s frequent work-related absences.  She was forced to raise their sons on her own.  What a change this must have been for the woman who was once described as “carefree”.

Her publicity didn’t come solely from her high-profile position, unfortunately.  She made headlines when she smuggled drugs in her husband’s luggage, made scantily clad appearances at Studio 54 and ripped apart a tapestry in the Prime Minister’s official residence in Ottawa because it celebrated “reason over passion”.

The marriage disintegrated.  This led to an affair with U.S. Senator Ted Kennedy.  She associated with Ronnie Wood and Mick Jagger, members of the Rolling Stones.  She suffered from stress and bouts of bipolar depression.   In 1977, she separated from her husband.  She became a jet-setter and gave many “tell-all” interviews to Canadian and American magazines.    She even appeared in two motion pictures. Pierre Trudeau won custody of the children and did not pay spousal support.  Margaret had a difficult time earning a learning after her marriage.  She wrote Beyond Reason, a book about her marriage.  On the eve of 1979 Pierre’s party lost the majority of seats in the House of Commons.   At the same time, Margaret was at Studio 54 in New York.  A photo of her was featured on many front pages across Canada.

The Trudeaus divorced in 1984.  Not long after, Margaret married Fried Kemper, Ottawa real-estate developer.  They had two children.  Unlike her first marriage, Margaret was able to disappear from the public eye.  In 1998, Margaret experienced a devastating tragedy.  Michel, her youngest son with Pierre, was killed in an avalanche.  This led to another major depressive episode which ended her second marriage.

In 2000, when Pierre died Margaret was at his bedside with their sons, Justin and Alexandre.

Just because our marriage ended didn’t mean the love stopped – Margaret speaking of Trudeau.

What is Margaret up these days?  She is the honorary president of WaterAid Canada, an organization in Ottawa, dedicated to helping the poorest communities in developing countries to have access to safe water, improved hygiene and sanitation.  She has written the book, The Time of Your Life:  Choosing A Vibrant Joyful Future in which she offers insights into how women can live healthy, happy lives and provides stories about her own life..

Notes to Women would like to commend Margaret for the work she has been doing since she announced in 2006 that she had been suffering from bipolar disorder.  Through speaking engagements across North America, she has advocated for reducing the social stigma of mental illness, particularly bipolar disorder.  She is an honorary patron of the Canadian Mental Health Association.  She wrote about her personal experience with bipolar disorder in Changing My Mind.

She now resides in Montreal so she can be closer to her sons Justin and Alexandre.  She was there in person to celebrate Justin’s historic win with him.  Margaret Trudeau is not just the wife of Pierre Trudeau or the mother of Justin Trudeau. She is the voice of those who suffer from mental illness.  She is an inspiration for women who have battled and are battling mood swings.  She has shown that with the right doctors and right treatment, women who suffer from mental illness can rebuild their lives.

If you or someone you know would like to learn more about bipolar disorder, visit this link.

TORONTO, ON- MARCH 25 - Margaret Trudeau has written a new book,The Time of Your Life....about enjoying a joyful old age .She is seen here in Harper Collins office downtown Toronto at in Toronto, March 25, 2015. Colin McConnell/Toronto Star

TORONTO, ON- MARCH 25 – Margaret Trudeau has written a new book,The Time of Your Life….about enjoying a joyful old age .She is seen here in Harper Collins office downtown Toronto at in Toronto, March 25, 2015. Colin McConnell/Toronto Star

Sources:  Wikipedia; National Post