Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 3.2: 1994, Ruiz

Chapter 3.2: 1994, Ruiz

 

"Balenciaga, I love you!"

"Dios mío, you're drunk, Ambrose."

"Ahahaha!"

Ambrose stumbled about the sidewalk, and I was watching his feet and letting him lean on me as he wobbled on his five inch stilettos. "Gothic is...the best one," he sputtered, getting quieter now, "Judges know...gothic...drag...wins..."

His towering silver tiara nearly toppled off of his head as his head dropped to his chest, showing me he was falling asleep while incredibly still walking. 

"Oh, Ambrose, stay awake. Despertar ahora!" I said loudly, shaking him desperately to rouse him as the majority of his weight fell on me and I nearly toppled over myself.

His pretty eyes fluttered open. "You always speak more Spanish when its late at night," he whispered, slurring. "Was that because of your Daddy?"

"Please don't speak about my Daddy," I whispered to him.

"I'm sorry," he whimpered.

"Good god, Ambrose. Its okay. You're a very bad drunk," I sighed, stopping and taking a break. I leaned him against a telephone pole and he stayed there loyally. 

"Very bad," he whispered into the pole, still looking deeply apologetic.

We were quiet for a moment, and I considered taking out a cigarette. But if I got any kind of ash on this white dress or worse, it burned, then I'd be out of luck because I could never get it repaired. I'd just have to wait until home. Maybe my Mama wasn't home yet. She didn't like me smoking, being a nurse and all.

"Sure is a quiet night for a Friday," I breathed, leaning against the other side of the pole. "Maybe its later than we thought?" My thoughts went to my Mama, perhaps alone at home and worrying about me. My eyes traveled to the apartment buildings surrounding us. Only a few lights were on. What a strange neighborhood. Maybe I didn't recognize it in the darkness, but I didn't think I'd ever been in this neighborhood before. 

As I stretched my arms and legs in preparation for practically carrying Ambrose again, not that he was very big at all being a skinny Puerto Rican, my eyes fell on the bright lights of a third floor apartment across the street. It caught my eye due to the pretty white lace curtains. They looked like they could be floor length. What I wouldn't give for that fabric. I'd make a dress out of that so fast, or maybe a veil.

As I planned this dream dress, it took me a minute to realize there was someone staring back at me in the window with the lace. I could see her clearly, if slightly shadowed due to the way the light was falling on her from the back. She stood there motionless, staring down at both Ambrose and I. Her expression didn't look judgemental, but it also didn't look gentle. As I stared back at her, she didn't waver. I was able to observe this stranger in a long look.

She had long pale blonde hair that seemed to curl near the bottom, and her face was wrinkled but not badly. These lines seemed to even enhance her beauty, strangely, making her look elegant and wise. She wore a sort of old fashioned outfit, one I realized looked '60s based on my fashion education. But as I stared longer, my eyes squinted. Then they squinted more.

As this old lady stared at me, I swear I started to recognize her from somewhere. But from where? How? We'd never met, I knew that with extreme certainty. It was a very eerie feeling.

Ambrose's gloved hand clapped on my shoulder and my eyes darted to him as he startled me something fierce. 

"I think...I'm going to be sick..." he blurted.