Memories of a Life That Never Happened

Chapter 25 - Privy Friend

Eventually, sitting atop the enigmatic white bag and wondering about its contents had Mica's bladder twinging.  

"What do you have there?" Abel asked, because she kept glancing at her seat. 

"A bag." 

"A bag?" 

Mica tried to act casual. "It's just something that a ballerina gave me."  

"Well?" Abel flexed his eyebrows. 

Mica simply mimicked him. 

"What's in it?" 

"An envelope." 

Abel scoffed. "Would you mind being a little less cryptic, please?" 

She shrugged. "I didn't open it. I'll be right back." 

Before he could stop her, Mica sprung up again and stormed away to the restroom.  

Alan elbowed Theo and indicated Mica with his head. "Next time she gets up, I suggest you follow her." 

"Everything ok with her?" Theo asked Abel, who gave an unconvincing scoff in return. 

"Women..." he said with a shrug.  

"Yeah," said Theo, secretly pleased that things did not look so good to Abel.  

Meanwhile, Mica got in the same lavatory from earlier that afternoon. 

"Hello? Is there anyone here?" She hoped she would be alone to delve into the bag.  

Inside one of the cabin, the toilet flushed. Mica paced around until a spindly girl in an eye-catching, snug red dress came out. Her long brown hair concealed her face while she pulled down the skirt. Shoving it back, she noticed Mica.  

"Hi!" The girl extended a hand. "I'm Bianca." 

Mica stared at the girl's unwashed hand and did not reach over to accept it. 

Embarrassed, Bianca recoiled. "Oh, right. Sorry." Her sky-scraping heels clicked against the floor as she moved to the sink. While washing her hands, Bianca studied Mica through the mirror. 

"You have amazing eyes," she complimented. 

"Thanks. Your dress is real pretty." 

"This little thing?" She stared at her own image, she said closing the tap. "It's just something I pulled out of my wardrobe. Blue or green? Your eyes, I mean." 

"Green," Mica replied.  

Bianca pointed a dripping finger to a pile of neatly rolled towels on a silver platter.  

"Would you mind?"  

Mica moved closer to the sleek cold-stone counter and complied.  

"You know, I think a bit of eye pencil and a dab of mascara would make a huge difference. Would you like to try?" 

"Ok," Mica agreed.  

"Let's see." Bianca rummaged a golden clutch, retrieved a couple of things that she laid over the counter.  

"First some eye pencil. Look up," she instructed and flicked her hand upwards. "I'll put some in your waterline."  

As Bianca tugged her under-eye skin, Mica stood paralyzed. Inwardly, she cursed herself. What was she thinking? Who would agree to have a complete stranger poking her eyes with a perniciously sharp blinding device?  

Blinking wildly, Mica's watery eyes stared at Bianca, who cupped Mica's face.  

"So much better!" She nodded in approval. "Now some mascara. Lucky girl. You have nice, long lashes." 

Stepping back, Mica gently grasped back Bianca's wrist. In her hand, the next instrument of torture was ready for use.  

Bianca giggled. "You're not very used to this, are you? Don't be silly. The worst part is over. You can thank me later." 

Although she seriously doubted that, Mica allowed Bianca to continue. 

"Great. What do you think?"  

Bianca turned Mica's chin toward the mirror. The girl gaping back at Mica was as much of a stranger as the one by her side. She was awed by how different-and nicer-she looked.  

"Wow! How did you do that?" Mica asked her, bending over the counter to take a closer look. 

"That's nothing! You should try a smoky eye." Bianca winked. "Anyway, glad you liked it. I have to get back now. Nice to meet you...?" 

"Mica." 

"Right. Nice to meet you, Mica." Bianca gathered her makeup. 

"Nice to meet you too. Thanks." 

"Anytime," Bianca said midway through the door.  

After checking herself in the mirror again, Mica scurried into a cabin. She locked the door behind her, lowered the lid and sat. What a bizarre night this was. Rich people were friendly, she mused.  

Mica hanged the bag on the door lock and put the package on her lap. She threw it leery look. Who would trust a girl with a secret envelope? And why couldn't she open it now? Unable to find a good reason, Mica tore it open.  

The first thing that came out was a letter. The neat calligraphy hinted that the sender was a woman. Perhaps the ballerina herself. Painted and disguised as she was, her identity was unknown.  

Mica emptied the envelope in her lap. Pictures. Lots of them. In every one of them, Nicholas appeared. What could be the meaning of this?  

She retrieved the letter and started reading. 

Dear Escobar, 

I apologize for...

A sudden bang on the cabin door startled her. The doorknob twitched. 

"Hey. Are you going to be long? I really need to go," a voice drawled.  

Mica stood up and quickly shoved the photos back in the bag. She flushed the empty bowl just for show and unlocked the door. 

"Sorry," she apologized, slinging the sac over her shoulder. 

The girl standing outside brushed past Mica on her way in. Before she knew it, Mica had been expelled from the stall.  

Intriguing as that package was at first, now Mica's curiosity was sated. Undoubtedly, Escobar would explain everything later. It was probably just some boring business matter. After all, the letter was addressed to him.  

Even though Mica was not used to gourmet extravaganzas, she heard her stomach rumbling. That thrilling night had given her an appetite and Mica could not wait for the second course.