Aunt Phoebe's Masturbatorium Ch. 11

"Let's move her onto the couch," my aunt advised. "Come on girls, give me a hand."

Charlotte was still on the phone as my aunt, Justine, Estelle and I lifted Lenore off the chair and dragged her limp body to the couch. I stuck some throw pillows under her head to make her comfortable while Estelle and Justine tried to coordinate her breathing.

"She's so cold!" Justine remarked.

"Her blood pressure is dropping," Estelle said. "Phoebe, put a blanket on her."

My aunt immediately removed her shoes and threw an afghan over her to keep her warm. I felt helpless to do anything. In the presence of these women I hardly felt like a Sisterhood leader. If anything, I felt like a little child who can do nothing but defer to the wisdom and competence of her superiors. Seeing my turmoil, my aunt suggested that I talk to Lenore while she and the others ministered to the stricken woman.

"The ambulance will be here in ten minutes," Charlotte said, as she looked down upon her fallen comrade.

As I took up a chair beside Lenore she slowly turned her head toward me and smiled faintly. She seemed to be trying to tell me something but lacked the strength to do so.

"Won't you take some water?" I asked her as I caressed her face with my hand.

She shook her head once from side to side.

"Not even a little?"

Again, she indicated with a nod of her head that she didn't want any.

"Okay," I said softly. "You just rest here and we'll take care of you until the ambulance comes."

As the minutes went by her condition seemed to get worse. The first to notice this was Estelle, who was now crying uncontrollably; her tears falling fast and hot upon the blanket covering her friend. Justine, the less emotional of the two, paced up and down like a cat that had been caged too long, looking out the window and finally the front door for the first sign of the ambulance. Charlotte barely said a word. She sat in the corner of the room, legs crossed, her head bowed low as if in prayer. Only my aunt and I seemed to maintain our composure—the unyielding Anjou blood that always held out hope to the very last—this was our blessing and our curse.

In the distance I heard the sound of a siren and knew that help was coming. Justine cried out in elation upon hearing its strident cry, and I heard the sound of the front door swinging wide open.

"The ambulance is here!" she cried.

"Lenore? Can you hear me, darling?" my aunt said, gently laying her hand over her friend's cold hand. "They're coming. You're going to be all right."

"I don't think she can hear you, auntie."

"Wake up, Lenore," my aunt persisted. "We're taking you to the hospital. Come on, my love. It's time to go."

Lenore made no movement. I now felt my eyes start to well up with tears. Even I, who had never experienced death up close, could tell the woman was slipping away. Her breathing had become so shallow by now that she barely moved. I don't know why I did it, but I put my right arm under her head and pulled her close to me thinking that I could somehow transfer some of my youthful energy to her. "Auntie?" I sobbed, unable any longer to control my emotions.

"I know, honey. I know," she said rubbing away the tears from my face. She then called out to Justine. "What's going on?"

"They're here!" Justine replied. "I'm coming, Phoebe!"

"Hurry!" my aunt shouted back. She grabbed Lenore's left hand hard. "God damn it girl don't let go!"

"We've got to do something!" Estelle implored. "She can't die!"

"What do you want us to do?" Charlotte said, her face streaming with tears. "The doctors are here now. They'll take care of her."

Just then I heard the ambulance come to a screeching halt on the driveway outside, followed by the sound of several voices giving directions in French. Suddenly, Lenore's eyes opened and she turned her head ever so slightly in my direction. It seemed to have taken all her strength, but she managed to move her lips ever so slightly. I leaned my head toward her face trying to make out the words.

"Je t'aime," she said, her voice as thin as the air surrounding us.

"Je t'aime aussi," I replied, kissing her face.

Her eyes closed once more and then her breathing ceased.

For a few moments a tranquil stillness had come over all of us. The only sound being that of the medical technicians frantically running down the hallway toward us. My aunt's face registered first disbelief, then shock. It was inconceivable that such a woman as Lenore could die. But she had. She had died in my arms.

"Oh, no…no…dear God no!" my aunt wailed. "My best friend! Don't leave me darling! Don't leave me all alone!" She threw her arms around the dead woman, weeping bitterly.

I turned to see Justine standing dumbfounded in the doorway, her hands raised up to her face, ignoring the medical personnel as they ran past her to administer first aid. Charlotte, herself overcome with grief, tried to console my aunt, but it was of no use. It took three men to pry her away from Lenore's body, and when they did they discovered that the former Sisterhood leader was beyond their help.

Estelle took my hand and led me away from the dead woman. I felt her push my head to her breast, caressing me, consoling me, as a mother does to a frightened child. I wept for a long time as she held me close to her—our tears mingling together to form one large river of sorrow. And even as I lamented the death of my beloved mentor and friend, I thought of Angelique, and how she had been the cause of Lenore's misfortune. The war between my cousin and I was indeed coming, and I swore an oath there and then to the memory of my mentor that I would not rest until that hateful creature had paid for her crimes in full.

************

The Marceau family, which consisted of an older brother and two younger sisters, was contacted by Justine and Estelle a short while after Lenore's death. The attendant doctor had confirmed that her death had been caused by a massive stroke. At the request of the Marceau family, Lenore's body was taken to the family estate in Lourdes and buried in the family mausoleum. Being a Roman Catholic, Lenore's life was celebrated with a wake and a mass. There were so many people at the funeral home that special hours had to be arranged to accommodate them all. The bulk of those people were Sisters—many of whom I had never met before.

On the fourth day the funeral procession and burial took place. I was somewhat disappointed to find that none of her family was anything remotely like my esteemed mentor. Not one of her siblings seemed to possess her love of life, her wit, or her spontaneity. I thought at first that the somberness of the occasion was the reason, but even after Lenore had been entombed and everyone was socializing at the requisite dinner, her brother and sisters maintained an arrogant, almost patrician, snobbery toward all of her friends. My aunt explained to me that her siblings had never understood Lenore's involvement with the Sisterhood, believing the organization to be corrupt and perverse. I was grateful that my aunt and I were leaving for home the following day.

Lenore would be a tough act to follow and I knew it. I still had much to learn about how the Sisterhood operated but, thankfully, my aunt, Charlotte, and especially Justine and Estelle, were of enormous help to me. Before long I learned the entire history of the Sisterhood, which consisted of much more than simply the lore surrounding Antoinette and the beginnings of the Order. Within a month's time I had become quite knowledgeable about the inner workings of the Order, from both a business and legal standpoint, and felt comfortable dealing with any issues concerning its operation. For much of this, I had both Justine and Estelle to thank.

Lenore had left the bulk of her estate to the Sisterhood. She had also left lavish gifts of money to my aunt, Justine and Estelle. To me she bequeathed an annual stipend of $100,000 per year, her red Ferrari, and her entire library collection consisting of many rare and priceless books dating back to the French Revolution. Many of these books were written by the great French philosophers and statesmen of the Enlightenment, and many were first editions. Their combined worth went far beyond their actual physical appraisal.

The ceremony to mark my official installation into the Sisterhood took place in mid-September in the main hall of the Masturbatorium. As Lenore had informed me, roughly one thousand people came to attend the event—some from the most distant parts of the globe. I learned later that many who had come did so because they wanted to see who this young "wunderkind" was. This was mostly due to the great public relations efforts of Justine and Estelle, who now worked painstakingly on my behalf. The two-day ceremony concluded with me getting my black Sisterhood robe and a silver crown, which supposedly once belonged to Antoinette herself. Being forbidden to attend, Mary Kate and Ashley called to congratulate me on my appointment. They were in England filming a new movie and told me that they hoped to see me in the coming months.

Following the ceremony, I decided to take a flight back to San Diego to visit my family. During this time Craig went to visit his family in Stockholm, the idea being that we would reunite again in Paris after our trips had concluded. I spent a month in San Diego catching up on family business and my own personal affairs that needed my attention. It did me good to get away from the chateau for a while. The sadness associated with recent events and the lingering anxiety I felt toward my coming confrontation with Angelique was somewhat assuaged in the light of the California sun. The only person I really missed besides my aunt was Craig.

By the middle of October I was back at my aunt's chateau. I was excited because Craig would be arriving in a few days and I made arrangements with my aunt for him to stay with us instead of spending a fortune on a hotel. My aunt readily agreed and offered to give us a suite of rooms that overlooked the outdoor pool and surrounding gardens. On the day before Craig was due to arrive, my aunt and I were sitting out on the veranda enjoying lunch when she waxed nostalgic about her old home.

"I've lived here now for almost 23 years but I still miss San Diego. What does it look like these days?"

"It hasn't changed all that much since you last lived there, auntie, except that the air is barely breathable."

"It's that damn smog. It's always been like that. I'm more worried about that really big earthquake that's supposed to hit within the next 30 years. That's going to do some severe damage, that one."

"That's what the scientists say."

"And I think they're right."

"So why would you want to go back there to live?"

"I guess for the same reason that everyone else lives there. It's beautiful."

"It's beautiful here, too. And there's no danger of you being swallowed up by an earthquake."

"The likelihood is remote I'll admit, but San Diego does have its charms."

We continued to eat for several minutes in silence and then she resumed the conversation. I could tell that something was bothering her by the way she pecked at her food—a telltale sign that she was preoccupied.

"You know, I think I just might move back to San Diego."

"Are you serious? And give up all this?"

"All what?"

"This!" I said, pointing to the house and the vineyards beyond. "This is your home. You've made a life for yourself here. Why would you want to leave it?"

My aunt fumbled with her food, first raising her fork to her mouth and then returning it to her plate. "While you were away I had a lot of time to think about my life. And I have to tell you, Holly, that the past few years have not been very good to me. My husband and I are divorced, my daughter has turned into a psychopath, and my best friend is dead. There are a lot of unpleasant memories associated with this place and I don't know if I really want to live here anymore. As far as the Sisterhood goes, they have a chapter in San Diego, so that's no big deal. There really is nothing keeping me here. I mean, think about it. These material things you seem to think are so important mean nothing to me. Once the people associated with them are either dead or gone, there is very little comfort to be found in them. Yes, friends come to visit from time to time, but for the most part I'm alone. Can you imagine living in this chateau by yourself? Well, that's what I've been doing these past several weeks: haunting these rooms like some kind of somnambulist. It's no fun to be left to your own devices for too long, believe me. Sooner or later you end up going mad or hanging yourself from the rafters. That's not how I want to end up."

I had stopped eating halfway through her speech, realizing that if she were serious about moving then I would also have to make a decision about where to live. It would be hard to give up the Masturbatorium, but I would have to, not having my aunt's vast reserves of wealth to rely upon. I'd also have to make other housing arrangements for myself and Craig—if I decided to remain in France at all.

"It seems like you've made up your mind already," I said.

"No. But I'm seriously considering it. Don't worry, Holly. I promise I won't leave you high and dry. I'm just giving you fair warning, that's all."

"I understand aunt Phoebe. We still have plenty of time. But if you did leave, I don't think I would want to remain here either. Without you, I'd be lost."

My aunt grabbed my hand from across the table and looked me in the eye. "You are the daughter I wished Angelique would have been. I can't lie to you and tell you that I hate her. I don't. I feel pity for her because she is deeply troubled. I've done everything I could to help her, but she refuses to help herself. Both Lenore and Charlotte warned me many years ago that she would be the cause of my suffering, and they were right. But then you came into our lives and changed all that. You gave us hope, Holly. And no power on earth can ever deprive us of that. Lenore understood it better than anyone."

She let go of my hand and took a small sip of wine. She looked like she was on the verge of crying.

"I miss her very much," I said, lifting my eyes toward the horizon.

"It's a pity that she is not alive now to see your rise to greatness. She always loved you, Holly. And she believed in you when even I had my doubts. You were the daughter she never had."

"I only hope that I will prove to be a worthy successor."

My aunt smiled. "Of that I have no doubt."

We continued our conversation for a short while longer and then we decided to spend the evening watching old romance movies together. My aunt's attitude seemed to perk up in my presence, and I knew that she was glad to have me back home with her. But she had given me a lot of food for thought that day, and although I had appreciated her honesty, I still had to come up with some kind of plan in case she did actually go through with hers. Even the thought of seeing Craig tomorrow could not alleviate the encroaching uncertainty I felt for the immediate future.

Jake drove my aunt and I to the airport the following day to pick up Craig, who was coming in on the 2:30 PM flight from Stockholm. As soon as I saw him walking briskly past the terminal booth I rushed into his arms and kissed him passionately. Both he and I had gotten tanned during our separate trips and he looked more handsome than ever. Jake helped him pack his luggage in the limo and before long we were on our way home.

"So, how was your trip?" my aunt asked him.

"I had a great time, Ms. Anjou. Got to spend time with my mom and dad and my two sisters. But all the time I was looking forward to coming back here to see Holly."

"I felt the same way," I admitted to him. "It was nice seeing the old homestead but without you it just wasn't the same."

My aunt laughed. "That's what love will do to you. And being apart for a little while will make you appreciate each other a lot more. Take my word for it."

"All I know is that the man I love is here with me and that's all that counts," I said, kissing him on the cheek several times.

All three of us had dinner on the veranda that evening. The weather had been singularly mild for the middle of October and it was delightful taking our repast out under the stars. Our cook had prepared a wonderful dinner of filet mignon with creamed asparagus that my aunt and I thoroughly enjoyed. Craig, however, being a vegetarian, stuck with the asparagus and bread. I had completely forgotten his dietary preferences and apologized for my thoughtlessness. I promised him we would have some meatless dishes for him the following night. That evening we made love until the sun began to poke its head above the horizon. For the time being, all was right with the world.

************

On the weekend following Craig's arrival, my aunt took us out to dinner at Le Trois. As she, Craig and I walked into the restaurant I noticed that the place was empty—not one patron in sight.

"This can't be possible," I said to my aunt. "Where is everybody?"

To my sheer delight, the doors that divided the main dining area from the suite of private function rooms in the back opened wide and out poured a crowd of people shouting my name. Mary Kate and Ashley were first in the long line of people that came running out the doors in one giant exodus.

"Oh, my God!" I exclaimed. "What is all this?"

"They were forbidden to attend your coronation so I thought we'd have a party just for them," my aunt informed me happily.

"Did you know about this?" I asked Craig.

"Your aunt told me about it yesterday," he confessed.

"Aunt Phoebe you're a sneaky woman! But thank you! This is really cool!"

I didn't have time to say much else because the crowd of well wishers quickly descended upon me en masse, hugging me, kissing me, shaking my hand, creating a general, if not subdued, pandemonium. The twins were the first to throw their arms around me and offer their congratulations.

"So you're the big cheese in town now, aren't you Sister Holly?" Ashley sang.

"I guess I am," I replied modestly.

"Well, don't let it go to your head," Mary Kate laughed. "We aren't going to like you anymore if you start trying to boss us around."

"I won't, I promise," I assured her.

I had no time to talk to them further as they were quickly pushed aside as other celebrities vied for my attention.

"Congratulations, Holly," Drew said to me as she offered her hand. "I think you're going to make a great leader. The Sisterhood is lucky to have you."

"Thanks, Drew. I can hardly believe it myself. So much has happened since I last saw you."

"Well, we have the whole evening so you can tell me everything later. I'll be sitting…"

Teri, who was holding a camera in her hand, cut her off in mid-sentence. "Yes, we know Drew, you'll be sitting with the Olsen sisters and me. Come on. Smile Holly. Let's have a quick pic!"

No sooner had she taken the picture than she was pushed aside by Madonna and Britney, both of them dressed in elegant gowns—one white, one black. I had never seen Britney so thin.

"How's it going, Holly?" Madonna asked. "You look fucking great!"

"She always looks good," Britney said, as she leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek.

At my aunt's suggestion, I had chosen to wear my favorite emerald-green evening dress with an emerald choker. Its effect was not lost on Craig.

"Amen to that ladies," Craig said, shaking the women's hands. "Green is her color all right."

"It's so great of you guys to come," I said to the two stars. "Thank you so much!"