𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 was raised from the ground up knowing nothing but comparison and perfection.
She compared herself to her successful parents, supermodel sister, and glamorous friends. Instead of love, she harbored a raging jealousy for nea...
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N i c o l a s
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The call came alarmingly late; at four AM late. Or maybe that's early
My head was pounding from the empty bottle of crappy liquor and bad ideas on my bedside table.
I was nauseous and hungover but still drunk as well and my stomach lurched as I opened my eyes, even the dark hurt.
My heart stuttered when I looked at the phone, already preparing myself for a charade of yelling and crying and shrieking, despite the fact the man was too old to be getting worked up like this.
"Bonjour, Grand-père-," I could only begin, just barely getting the words out before his laugh came bellowing through the phone.
"VOUS GARÇON FOL!" His voice was punctuating, loud enough that I had to distance the phone from my ear. (French | You crazy boy.)
But it was comforting. It was the voice I missed, the only one that genuinely calmed the waterfall inside me down until I was just a steady flowing stream. I hadn't realized how preoccupied I'd been with a certain someone, but now that it was just us two, I wanted nothing more than to crawl into his lap, the way I did when I was a young child.
His laugh bellowed loudly, shaking my heart with the same intensity it was most likely shaking his house. "Comment? Dis-moi comment tu as fait ?" (French | How? Tell me how you did it?)
I knew what he was talking about. And the question remained unanswered to me as well. How had I managed to get the painting back? And right on time for his birthday? He'd be turning 80 in just over a week.
"Un magicien ne révèle jamais ses secrets, Grand-père," I replied simply because it was easier than explaining the events of the past 3 or so months. (A magician never reveals his secrets)
I rubbed my eyes, pushing up into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
The painting wasn't the only thing I sent in the mail to him. Two first-class tickets to New York so he could come to celebrate his Birthday here, only because Morgan said I was behind on a few projects and couldn't leave the country again, and also because Papa was off somewhere with the family's private plane.
