Something about Elle Ch. 04

Hannah's wait for Elle to arrive home ended with a sigh, easing great state of excitement that threatened to boil over.

"Your mail," Hannah said, hands shaking.

Looking down at the envelop she'd torn open without paying much attention, Elle found she was holding her 'Green Card' -- only it wasn't green. The document confirmed she was entitled to live and work in the United States lawfully as an immigrant.

Elle dropped her precious card in shock as the moment had been so unexpected for her. Hannah watched fascinated as Elle pressed her cheeks and screamed, then burst into tears, rocking on her ankles in little hip sways.

Chuckling as she picked up the card, Hannah hugged Elle and said she was meant to take better care of the card than that.

"I know, I know, Hannah -- but I was so unhappy at being classified as an alien. That other way of using a business exemption was considered legal by your advisor, but I thought because it's so difficult to quantify my skills it was so sneaky.

"Oh Hannah," she sobbed in a flood of tears, "I feel so happy that I feel like crying."

"Oh really," Hannah smiled, hugging her.

Hannah, rather emotional herself, knew that Elle's high emotions were about to be triggered again but she'd let her be for the moment; she'd wait to tell everyone over dinner as the girls had invited them over to the beach for a late family dinner -- Donovan, too.

Hannah retreated when Elle, with shaking hands, pulled out her phone, knowing Elle's first call would be to her father in Christchurch no matter what the time difference.

Wrong.

She called Donovan and Hannah could hear his whoop of delight.

Obviously he was telling Elle about dinner arrangements over at Venice at a trattoria where they had been able to reserve a table and afterwards they'd hit some bars fronting the boardwalk. They would go by cab.

Elle then phoned her father and from the conversation lunged from delight to sadness. It was easy to gather from across the room for Hannah to hear that Elle's mother and father had attempted reconciliation but it had failed -- dismally apparently.

Elle said sadly, "Sometimes two people no longer can maintain compatibility dad."

"I accept that and you urged me to take that step and try I did. Perhaps we should seek professional intervention?"

"No don't waste your time going to counseling -- mum will only go twice and that will be it; you know what she's like. Dad find a woman who'll love you and you know you'll grow to love her."

"No one will want me because I'm a difficult cuss to live with."

"Dad -- you are not such a difficult cuss to live with. I should know as I had five years of it living along with you till recently. We both are aware mum has an acutely low level of tolerance with any situation. "

Once again Hannah found herself nodding in agreement with Elle -- this time over Elle's parental marital prognosis. What excellent advice -- while keep on trying to patch a leaky boat?

When the call ended Elle said to Hannah, "Dad..."

"I know. You are so excited that your voice carried and his deep voice too. I'm sorry for both of them and for you."

"What a kind thing to say, Hannah. But don't worry about me -- I divorced mum years ago after her second and tumultuous affair -- as least the second one dad and I knew about. He'll have the guts to finally end it now that I've told him what to do. In recent years he'd listen to my advice more that mum's lightweight comments in discussion on important matters."

"Mum didn't want him to start the tour company -- she wanted nothing to do with it and so he had to sell his mother's house -- she was in a rest home and urged him to do it -- to raise the capital. I was still at university and boyfriend at the time was doing law and advised that dad should get a legal agreement -- with her cooperation and maintain a clear track of all investment sourcing and earnings -- excluding mum from any claim of marital entitlement to that investment."

"She couldn't wait to sign thinking the venture would go belly up and would plunge dad into debt; instead it made him a millionaire. I hope she can't find an attorney who'll manage to worm in to siphon off dad's money from that venture when divorce settlement discussion gets underway."

Hannah said, "Attorneys are only as good as their minds and the extent of their skill and due diligence Elle. Usually if a showdown occurs it may rest with a Judge to resolve any such dispute."

"Oh God, this is depressing me -- let's have a martini; I'll get it. I guess you've heard about our day -- wasn't it magnificent; it should be very good for the business."

"It was magnificent for you my girl, establishing you as a standout contributor within the company. Donovan said he was so proud of you and his other personnel but specially you. He says Milly was unusually quiet about your success which he interprets as meaning you've shocked her to the core. Alas, he said that could be either good or bad for you when your time for non-renewal or extension of your work contract or elevation to permanent placement comes up for review."

"He also took a call from a feature writer on the Los Angeles Timesand made an appointment for her to interview you on Tuesday. Apparently the mall boss told his contact at the newspaper you have the facility to see things most other people find impossible to conceive, although I don't quite understand what that means and to connect your visions to reality with extraordinary clarity -- at least that's what I think Donovan said as by that time I was rather lost in the conversation."

"B-but Hannah the Times is a huge newspaper."

"Elle stop putting yourself down. Whether or not you know it, you've become big time. Mall boss Duncan Barnes is not a two-bit player -- he and wife Jemma and her family are the principals in an company owns three smaller malls, a stadium, numerous commercial buildings and a large number of industrial sites both developed and waiting development. He's also a professional director on the boards of several conglomerates. He will have asked for that interview -- though the journalist may not know that and neither are you supposed to know that. You are on you way, Elle."

"But I'm an alien with a day-old right of residence and right to work card."

"You're a legitimate America immigrant Elle," Hannah said patiently. "Almost all of the people of this country are immigrants or descendants of immigrants. You are about as unique as fleas on a street dog. And no person in American is more respected than someone who makes it against all odds."

Elle sighed looking a little happier and made them another cocktail.

Hannah I really appreciate your comments and counseling. You are so wise, so evenly paced and evenly mannered; I hope I age into a woman like you."

"Oh my goodness -- just don't hurry to get there."

Elle handed Hannah her drink and promptly spilt half of hers after asking "And what was your highlight today?"

Hannah decided she would wait no longer and said, "I think I've found a man."

"Damn!" shrieked Elle, running for a cloth to wipe up the martini puddle on the floor boards. "Tell me, tell me about it."

"Well, I was coming out of the pharmacy when I slipped and the person behind me caught, preventing a nasty fall.

He went straight into it, saying I shouldn't be out without my husband if I intended to clown around like that."

"I said, 'Excuse me I slipped because I wasn't paying attention to where I was placing my feet stepping out on to the sidewalk. I'm a little upset because my husband doesn't want me anymore."

He said 'Is that so' and I looked into his smiling brown eyes and my right leg almost buckled again."

"I thanked him profusely, embarrassed but only a little, and walked away. He came after me and said, 'Hi there again -- you may need this' and disappeared into the crowd."

"Oh Hannah. What did he give you?"

"A business card, but I wasn't hurt; I'm not making a claim."

"I guessed that, he guessed that and you certainly know why he gave you his card."

"Oh Elle -- I was waiting so excitedly for you to home this evening. My heart tells me he wants me to call him, but my mind scoffs at that thought."

"It would, minds are like that -- entirely unreliable when it comes to delicate nuances of the romantic kind."

"Delicate nuances of the romantic kind? I should write that down -- it's so sweet, so wonderfully and emotionally evocative."

"Wow -- this fella will wonder what feminine serpent from Eden has brought you two together."

"Fella?"

"Yes it's a colloquialism for fellow or guy to you, not a student of fellatio."

"Elle do you think you should be talking to me this way?"

"We are mature adults Hannah, but I have rather veered off the subject in hand in my desire to be playful with knowledge to tickle your excitement along."

"Tickle my excitement along? I wonder if I'll be in a fit state to go out tonight?"

"You will -- finish your drink and take a cool shower. You must call him tomorrow, Hannah -- promise me that."

"Yes."

"Good girl."

"Thank you for your caring support Elle."

"Well that shows how it can happen. I was planning to try to help make something happen for you but became rather tied up in myself. I'm sorry about that."

"No apology is necessary. Now listen to this my good girl, I'm hosting a 'Welcome to America' party to you on our rooftop garden on Sunday week -- I'll phone to book it now. Is one o'clock fine for you?"

"That's awfully kind of you, Hannah. Thank you, yes one o'clock is fine and you do need to book -- it's not a big garden."

"We'll fill that garden area Elle. By Sunday week some of the people being invited will be anxious to say they have met you."

"Really?"

"Yes and being from an obscure country and speaking so cutely, I know you'll be a hit with the women. Knowing someone foreign, intelligent and beautiful is considered to be rather upscale."

"Upscale?"

"Cool."

"Don't these people have much to occupy their minds?"

"Some of them may not have much to think about on some days."

As they came out of the lobby on to the sidewalk, Donovan who had a taxi waiting strode forward, kissed his mom and when whooped and spun Elle around as if dancing.

She bent well over backwards at the finish and Donovan came right at her and for a moment Hannah thought he'd kiss Elle passionately and clutched her nails in excitement as it would mean something. But no, just a soft touch of the lips -- nothing spectacular, but she noted with satisfaction that their eyes locked and stayed locked until Donovan straightened up after a lingering a moment.

Hannah thought passionately she was so right for him -- why didn't one of them make the move? Should she push Donovan? Why are mothers put in this dilemma?

"You are a fine kisser."

Ohmigod Elle had come straight out and said that to him, in front of her and the cabbie with his yellow-tooth grin below his moustache! Romantic? She didn't think so -- Elle's voice had been as un-primed as if saying it was a lovely evening. What kind of game was that?

"I have that reputation," grinned her son, looking so rakish. Rakish? She hadn't used that word for thirty years, probably longer.

"I'd be interested in joining the line-up if more good ones like that are in the pipeline."

Her son said, "There is no line-up, but start one if you wish."

"Thanks and I will. You realize of course that with my card I am no longer reliance on your sponsorship."

Hannah's heart missed a beat. What on earth was Elle playing at -- romantic suicide?

As she entered the cab she heard Donovan laugh easily and say, "The thought had occurred to me."

This was crazy -- their slender relationship was in danger of careering out of control. Hannah felt her panic rising.

"You two must go to bed and get something started."

She knew it was her voice that said that. It was a thought that should have remained harbored, but not that it was out she was unmoved.

She looked at them -- Donovan holding Elle's arm in that unhelpful way men tend to do, making it awkward for a woman to enter a vehicle. Elle looked up at her, mouth open and Donovan bent down to look at her, shock on his face.

"Well?" Hannah demanded.

As to be expected Donovan remained mute; it was Elle who responded.

"Do mothers in California usually make such recommendations?"

Hannah looked at the back of the driver, whose head was shaking horizontally.

"If they feel the need to intervene they may do so."

Hannah watched Donovan's terse face as he wriggled in and leant over Elle to close the door behind him, Elle moving right in against Hannah for a moment.

"Well, Hannah -- let's put your mind at rest: Donovan and I are friends and that's all; and he's also my boss and I work for him, and that's all. And I rather fancy him and I think he fancies me, at least a little. We are young, there's no pressure on us to react and we shall just go cruising on. And that's all. Full stop. Now you can sit back and relax."

Hannah breathed out, trying to relax, but sucked heavily back in when Donovan growled, "You suggest I fancy you? I think of your body night and day, waking up sweating and goodness knows what else thinking about your curves, your softness and your beauty. That is no way to start a worthy relationship. I must..."

"Aren't there are great number of people about this evening?" Hannah interjected, aware that this was a conversation that she and certainly not the cabbie should be privy to.

"It's a lovely evening," Elle sighed.

Hannah looked to reach for Elle's hand and found the other hand already in Donovan's grasp. Hannah soothed, "A very lovely evening."

Just before dawn Hannah heard Elle creep back into the apartment and smiled.

Donovan and the girls -- by then joined by some male friends -- had taken Elle on a tour of local bars, including one set up as a bar for New Zealanders. Hopefully she'd stayed some of the night at Donovan's apartment; no one would stay up all night on a bench seat on the boardwalk talking and looking at the moon, would they?

* * *

At midmorning next day Hannah called that male who'd appeared at her side when she'd almost fallen and who now an invitation away from entering her life.

She was nervous but not teenager shy in trying to swing a date. Rather she was touched by fear -- what if he was happily married, or separated because he was a wife beater, or an axe murderer or ...how stupid. She knew she was being silly and little wonder she didn't have a man in her bed or better still, a man to talk and be attentive to her. As Elle would say one would be wise to take little risk at times.

"Hello Joe, it's Hannah Seymour, the woman..."

He remembered her! That pleased Hannah.

They arranged to have lunch next day She'd said she was not thinking of eating lightly in the park.

"I mean a real thank you lunch for you being so quick to save me from that nasty fall. Grab pen and paper, Joe and I'll give you the address of my office. I'll wait for you in the lobby."

There, done. Her palms were moist but her pulse was steady. It had been exceptionally easy as he was so easy to talk to. Now all she had to decide was where to take him to lunch and what to talk about, and whether she should hold out her hand to be shaken or cheek to be kissed.

Ohmigod, she shouldn't be dating at her age; a woman aged fifty-five should be at home arranging flowers and decided what invitation to afternoon tea she should accept -- that is if there was a gap in in her life what with bridge, theatre matinees and visiting galleries.

You stupid goat, she thought, knowing that thought was not been very kind to goats. Instead of trying to gee up Joe; she ought to be locked away in an institution for daffy old ladies. With that line of thought exhausted she wondered what Joe was like in bed. Ohmigod how disgusting, she laughed.

"Laughing at our own jokes are we Hannah?" smiled Susan, her PA. "Remind me to phone up and have you taken away and locked up; you are a danger to us all."

Susan was always teasing her, but only when they were alone. Perhaps it was time to place her 51-year-old assistant on the back foot.

"Susan, please excuse me for being personal and don't answer it if it's an unacceptable question; how many times do you have sex, and do you consider that insufficient, about right or too much? I'm thinking of opening up my boudoir."

Susan stopped in her tracks, slack-jawed, hand cupping her mouth.

"Ohmigod, you do need locking away -- all women of our age want less sex and if you're having none you are in a state of sublime grace."

"Come on Susan stop stalling. I know you spend half your day thinking about sex -- you have that far-away look with a soft smile. And that's certainly not showing the first signs of going mental."

"I ought to report you to your son."

Hannah laughed and pointed to the chair; Susan sat.

"Please allow me to peep when you confront my son with such a personal outburst; I'd just love to see the panic on his face and next morning when recovered he'll probably have you transferred to our branch in China."

"We don't have any branches," Susan said with a frown.

"He'll be opening one in China to get rid of the embarrassment known as Susan Roberts and you'll be manager and sole employer. Now, how many times a week Susan?"

Hannah waited for Joe in the foyer, five minutes ahead of time. Susan Roberts had told her how many times a week she had sex and Hannah had been staggered -- she'd been lucky to have got near that number even in her first month of marriage after the honeymoon.

Susan had been most interesting, telling Hannah about the modern lubricants and a couple of positions other than Missionary that reduced physical stress. That had been most interesting indeed.

"Hannah how lovely to see you again -- my, you were in deep thought. Was it anything worth sharing?"

Hannah dropped her handbag to throw him off the scent and to try to have some reason for being flushed, but as she bent down he moved faster and their heads clashed and she straightened up, smiling, rubbing her head and taking her bag from him.

"Wow our first bang," he said, possibly innocently.

Hannah felt she couldn't drop her handbag again so headed for the door calling "Come on Joe," hiding her face turned scarlet as a school girl's making a par faux on her first real date.

* * *

Elle had watched Hannah's face glow as she told her children that she may have met someone -- male. But serenity was short-lived.

"We want to know all about Mr Travers?" Kate said.

"Kate!" Hannah said, turning wild-eyed, and then she called her son to account: "Donovan!"

"What?" Donovan had asked innocently.

They were in the Italian restaurant, hosted by the girls, and everyone was drinking champagne to mark Elle's changed status to 'Green Card' immigrant.

"You told Kate, you had promised you'd tell no one."

"He didn't tell me mom. I saw you walking with a man one evening and disappear into an apartment building with him. I asked a woman coming out of the building was that Mr Charles -- a name I invented -- who'd just entered the elevator and she said no he was Mr Travers. I never saw you with him again and I only ever told one person -- Annie."

"Well Elle encouraged me to put a stop to my former male friend Mr Travers because he's married. And now I have met this Joe Fielder briefly and now he wants me to call him as he gave me his card after rescuing me from a near fall. Before you say anything I will be calling him and before we venture towards any friendship to clarify his marital situation. He gave me the impression he wasn't married, but then so did Albert Travers. I'll find out all about him and verify some of the details -- I'm not falling into the married man trap again."