Memories of a Life That Never Happened

Chapter 112 - Closure

Sitting next to each other, Mica and Virginie were still holding hands.  

"Did I really shriek when the plane took off?" Mica asked Joana. The plane shook mildly, causing the water on her cup to spill onto her tray. Mica gripped the armrests. "Is it normal to shake so much?" 

It took Mica half the flight to unpetrify. When she finally did, her limbs were slightly sore and tingly.  

This was Mica's first time on an airplane. Past her window, beneath them, she saw a sea of pink cotton candy. She wished Julian could see it too. 

Would her baby brother be playing with the brand new truck that Theo had given him? It was small, but it had red blinking lights.  

Mica reached the space under her legs and took her bag. She pulled out Theo's gift to her, laid it on her lap and unfolded it carefully. There was a silver bracelet nestled in the folds of the cloth. She hooked in her finger to take a closer look. A charm, a chubby little heart, dangled at the end.  

After confirming that Virginie was fast asleep and Joana was reading a magazine, Mica put the charm on her palm.  

There was a tiny hinge at one side of it. Wondering if there was anything inside, Mica forced the other side and the heart opened. A thin piece of paper uncoiled from the concealed compartment and she plucked it out.  

Mica unrolled it eagerly. Theo had left her a message. 

Phone calls and letters might be  

caught. But maybe, someday, if you  

are still thinking of me, you will write  

me an e-mail.  

theochuster@hotmail.com  

I will be waiting.  

Forever yours,  

Theo. 

What kind of address was that? She had no clue what to do with it, but her heart began swelling with hope again.  

"Psst," Joana called bending forward to look past Virginie, at Mica. "What's that?" 

Mica quickly put away Theo's note. "Nothing," she lied. 

Virginie grunted a sleepy complaint and Mica tucked the strip of paper in her pocket. It was more worthy one of the hundred-dollar bills Escobar had given her.  

"It's from Theo, isn't it?" Joana asked, but Mica did not confirm nor deny her suspicion. "He must really like you." 

"Why do you say that?" 

"Besides the wistful looks he gives you, I heard Escobar tell your mom he had a hand in convincing his mom to help you out." 

Mica's curiosity suddenly peaked. "What did you hear?" 

"Not much, I'm afraid." Joana squinted her eyes. "Something about him threatening to tell the truth about his brother." 

Mica looked so perplexed that Joanna asked, "Do you know what he was talking about?" 

"No idea," Mica lied again and Joana seemed to believe her for she changed the subject.  

"So, have you thought about it yet?" 

"About what?" 

"Your life story! Who are you? Who are your parents? What are your hobbies?" 

"Oh." Mica gulped. "No, I don't have anything yet." 

"Well, I've been thinking about it." Joana glowed with excitement. Obviously, this was entertaining for her. "May I suggest a couple things?" 

Mica tried very hard to keep a straight face. She did not want to insult Joana after all she had done. But the girl who first seemed so polished and well behaved now looked like a small child on the candy shop.  

"Sure," Mica said. She managed to control her lips so that they quirked up just a respectful bit. 

"You can be the daughter of a wealthy farmer." Joana bounced her head frantically to demonstrate that she herself approved this idea very much. "This will make it easy to explain why you're not much city savvy. Plus, you know, what's difficult about creating an imaginary farm? There's land. Animals. Plants. A tractor here and there." 

"Yeah, that sounds great!" Mica did not have it in her heart to deny Joana the satisfaction.  

"Well, then!" Joana clapped her hands in a kiddish way that Mica would have never believed had she not witnessed it.  

Joana's unusual behavior appeared to be surprising to Virginie as well, who had woken up and was studying Joana a quizzical stare.  

"I'll help you come up with the details too," Joana informed and immediately started scribbling on her notebook. 

"Thanks!" Mica said. 

"No biggy," replied Joana, waving a hand in the air but keeping her eyes on the paper. 

Actually, it was not a bad idea to have someone helping her with a mock life. Mica's only concern was that Joana seemed to be enjoying this prank a bit too much. With luck, the story she created would not be too phony.  

Joana lifted her eyes from the paper, tapping her pencil to the tray.  

"Good thing you'll have people on the inside watching out for you," she told Mica. 

"What you mean?" 

"Well, there's Virginie, of course, who goes there. And her mother, Catherine." 

"Her mother?" 

"Oh, yes. Did I forget to tell you? She's the school's headmistress. And she's dying to meet you." 

Mica watched Virginie, who at this point had given up any hope of going back to sleep. She ripped a package open and took out a pair of earphones. She plugged them into a tiny hole on her armrest. Mica rummaged the contents of the seat pocket upfront and found herself a pair. Mimicking her friend, she put on the phones and her ears brimmed with a lovely bittersweet melody. 

Virginie touched her forearm and mouthed something. Mica pulled out one earphone. "Sorry?" 

"C'est le 'Lac des Cygnes' de Tchaïkovski1," Virginie repeated. 

"Oh, it's beautiful," Mica smiled. Replacing the phone in her ear, Mica watched the stars grow brighter outside her window.  

What kind of life was waiting for her? Would she make any friends? It had always been easier for her to be friends with boys. How would she fit in a school where there were only girls? She figured it was probably all very luxurious, as Joana's house. What did they do for fun?  

Eyes closed, she pictured herself valsing at the pace of the melody in her ears. There was this huge wood-paneled room filled with mirrors and chandeliers and she was right there, spinning in the middle of a crowd. It was a masquerade ball and, like that ballerina's dress, her skirt glittered and flared with her every twirl.  

The man dancing with her had a black velvet mask on, spiked with deep blue feathers that matched his eyes. Even though his face was covered, she needed nothing but to look into those eyes to learn who he was. He was Theo. They were together, as equals, enjoying each other. Surrendering to the dance.  

He had waited for her. Now there was nowhere else they needed to be nor something more important to do. No fortune held them apart and whatever family rivalry there was, it could not reach them. He was no Romeo and she was no Juliet. They were just Theo and Mica. And if it were up to Mica's imagination, they would have the happiest of endings. 

 _______________________________

 1 It's the 'Swan Lake' from Tchaikovsky 

THE END