*Fiction NOT Fact
[Second Warning: The following two characters, no matter how deliciously delightful and darling they appear in this episode are fictitious in nature and don't exist in the real world. Reader is advised to exercise a bit of retraint and not fall for either of them]
Part VII
"Andy and Ellee"
A
welcome silence was now seeping into the void left when the festive sounds all came to a stop—gone was the Captain and Tenille; gone was the entire Andergaggle; gone was zeee French danseuse, Phoenix, along with her ear-shattering Can-Can screech; gone was Emile de Pourboire, our maitre d’, whose visions of zee beeg teep achieved fruition by the end of the evening when Andy laid a beeg wad of Euros on his out-stretched hand as he said his au revoirs and adieux; Gone was Chef Jean-Claude Le Rond, along with his Pate de foie gras and Rillettes; gone was Lillie Liverwort and her unfinished aria; gone was Gizzy and all the rat/dog commotion he precipitated with his presence. AND . . . gone . . . GONE . . . was my chance to be in Andy’s arms! He hadn’t even asked me to dance. No, not once!
I had so many questions surrounding the whole Valentine party thing: Why had I never received an invitation? Was it just understood that I would be there? Was it an oversight? Was it intentional? And what about my beautiful party dress? Was Andy responsible for it, like I suspected? And how was it able to fit me so perfectly, like it had been made just for me? And the very biggest question of all, and certainly the most hurtful, why didn't Andy dance with me? I mean . . . what’s wrong with me? He seemed so taken with me during my . . . grand entrance, which had been engineered by, of all people, Henna-Happy Harriet, which is also a puzzling question—what got into her??? She was actually sort of nice to me.
As I sat at the table fussing over all these questions, I almost didn’t hear the footsteps coming across the floor from behind. But then I didn’t need to hear them—my sensor receptors had already put me on high alert—it was Andy, and I could feel his approach . . . inch by inch by inch, closer and closer, the distance between us lessening with each step . . . until . . . at last he stopped!— behind me.
I didn't move . . . and then . . . unexpectedly, I felt my chair sliding slowly away from the table. When it stopped, so did my heart. Silence poured in—lasting an eternity. All at once my heart kicked in and started pounding, filling the stillness. I wondered if Andy could hear it, too. But he said nothing. At that moment, the growing tension and expectation hanging in the uneasy quiet were palpable.
Then it began . . . the warmth of tingling sensations, springing to life everywhere, cascading from crown to toes as his finger traced an outline of the lace scallops along my upper arm. And my heart came to a screeching halt once more— his hands were squeezing my shoulders, and his warm breath had made contact with my right ear, just before I felt the words his lips were forming on my ear,
"Cherie, . . ." he whispered, "that exquisite dress has fulfilled the purpose of its creation—but only because you're in it. Without you, it would be nothing . . . just another dress. You make the dress—it doesn’t make you."
There was a long pause, during which I held my breath, not daring to breathe, and then, " You, my darling, look soooooo stunning."
He drew out these last few words in a voice that was deeper . . . and slower . . . and softer— causing me to reel and spin, once those hypnotizing words had traveled through my ear canal, reaching the cochlea, and were dispatched directly to my brain for immediate processing via those neurotransmitters, which by now were synapsing violently. I knew at this rate, with the way things were headed, I didn’t stand a chance of maintaining myself in a conscious state for long. I could already feel the blood draining from my head. AND I didn’t want to miss anything that was about to follow, so it was imperative I stay alert! That’s when I gave myself a mental slap across the face and yelled, HEY, ELLEE, STAY WITH THE PROGRAM! But the assault to my vulnerable senses wasn’t finished—Andy’s mouth was still at my ear.
"There is, however, something missing." he added, using the same deep and slow voice, his warm breath filling my ear, causing chills to cascade once again.
After his mouth left my ear, I felt his fingers brushing against my skin as he moved my long and luxurious mane to one side, exposing my neck. A couple of seconds later, I felt something cold, like ice, sliding into the vee of my neckline. As I tilted my head to see, I discovered that it WAS indeed ice—five scintillating pieces of ice—diamonds!—delightfully, delicious diamonds! I gasped. They were beautiful! All five of them, of graduated sizes, hanging in tandem, and swinging from the tail of an exquisite Y pendant necklace. I watched as the smallest diamond at the end, having nestled at the bottom of the vee, was now making an ascent when the platinum chain was drawn up around my neck, and the clasp locked into place.
Andy had given me diamonds!!!! I gasped once again, and was about to effervesce a copious amount of words, expressing ebullient joy and surprise, but Andy, having swung around to the front of my chair and then fallen to one knee, put his finger on my lips, saying "Shhhhhhhh . . . ." while his eyes, sparkling even more than those five diamonds ever could, were probing mine, which were also sparkling at that moment in response to his. Our eyes were blue reflections bouncing off each other. And the electricity flying between them was incredible! This wasn’t a time for words.
Then his eyes crinkled at the corners, as the most exhilarating smile ever to grace his face began to dazzle! It was so breathtaking, I answered him with one of my own, the one with the cute little dimple which makes a cute little curve on the right side of my upper lip. The one I had hoped he would notice and find irresistible that first day, as I climbed out of my box. Well . . . just maybe he had after all, because as soon as I beamed that smile, his eyes picked up on it, and almost instantly his finger reached up and started tracing it, lingering for several seconds before going on to trace my chin. That’s when Roberta Flack began singing,
"The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the end of the skies . . . "
Roberta was sounding good, and while she was holding on to that last note in the verse, Andy reached for my left wrist, but as his fingers encircled it, I winced with pain, the pain from having hit the outside corner of the wall earlier in the day when the two of us collided. As I uttered the little cry of agony, his eyes immediately clouded with sympathetic understanding as he remembered our accident. When he turned my wrist over, revealing the bruise, he lightly caressed it for several moments, and then placed little kisses all over the darkened spot, quietly saying, "I’m sorry." He then reached for my other wrist, after taking something from the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket.
When I saw what it was, as he placed it around my wrist, I was stunned—MORE DIAMONDS! Andy was giving me more diamonds? Why, the necklace alone had to be in the thousands! But this bracelet, with three rows of gems all lined up side by side by side, around the entire length, and each diamond being at least a half-carat, it had to be in the—well, never mind . . . it’s in poor taste to discuss such things. But once again I was literally breathless. This just wasn’t happening to me! Up to that minute I had never even owned a diamond, unless you count that diamond chip I received in the mail, free, when I opened a new account at Bank of North Forty.
But Andy didn’t stop there with the diamonds. From another pocket he produced a set of earrings, each one being a single one-carat diamond, swinging from a short little chain of tiny diamonds, making it possible for those diamonds to catch and disperse all available light from hundreds of facets.
"Andy, I—"
Once again he stopped me from speaking when he placed his fingers over my lips, moving his head slowly from side to side, as his eyes took in the scene before him. From the way he was looking at me, he appeared to be . . .well . . . in awe . . . of me . . . like I was a treasure, even a fine painting in a gallery. I had seen that same painting, earlier, in the mirror as I was getting ready. Now Andy was seeing it, too. My heart leaped knowing he had seen the same thing, and the joy it spawned in me spread first to my eyes, and then to Andy’s, compelling him to reach for my hair, threading his open fingers through the locks, and then watching as the silkiness just slipped through and fell away. He repeated this action several more times, smiling each time as the silk slipped through his fingers, and then he brought his hands to my face in awe of another treasure—the soft, pink velvet of my delicate cheeks, which he caressed gently. He took a deep breath, letting it escape slowly.
At this point he stood up, and in so doing, slid his hand around my waist, lifting me effortlessly out of my chair and into his arms. Facing each other, our eyes met and locked. My heart was skipping beats like mad. And it didn’t help when the Anderpout came over his lips and his eyes—eyes which felt like they were piercing through to the very depths of my soul. We began moving together then, in rhythm to the slow beat of the final verses of Roberta’s song,
And the first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth move in my hand
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command, my love
And the first time ever I felt your heart so close to mine
I knew our joy would fill the earth
And last, till the end of time, my love
Melting into each other’s arms was easy and seemed so right. Words still hadn’t passed between us. There was no need. Everything was complete now. We were in each other’s arms. We were home.
Somewhere, at the end of Roberta’s song, and before the beginning of the next one, with no rhythm to follow, our feet stopped moving, yet we didn’t break away. As we stood there holding each other, it became obvious our hearts were communicating—my heartbeats were answering his heartbeats, and his, mine.
"Do you hear that?" he murmured softly in my ear.
"Yes. I hear it." I answered, in his ear. "Do you know what it is? I mean, what it really is?"
He pulled back to look at me. "No, Ellee . . . I guess I don’t," he grinned, knowing this could involve one of my lengthy dissertations. "Do tell. What is it?"
"Morse Code."
"Morse Code," he mimicked, shaking his head up and down. "Uhhh—huh . . . So . . . I guess that means . . . our hearts are conversing in Morse Code?. . . Right?"
"There’s only one way to find out, Andy. Can you interpret Morse Code?"
"Well . . . I’m a little rusty, but if I remember correctly, I think the message is:
beat, beat
beat, BEAT, beat, beat
BEAT, BEAT, BEAT
beat, beat, beat, BEAT
beat
beat, beat, BEAT
"Really?" I questioned.
"REALLY!" He affirmed. "What do you think of that?"
I smiled. He was still grinning. Maybe I should have paid more attention in Morse Code 101.
When the music began again, so did our feet, and the words from Cherish filled our world then as we danced, and when they ended with,
Cherish is the word I use to describe,
All the feelings that I have hiding here for you inside
You don’t know how many times I’ve wished that I had told you
You don’t know how many times I’ve wished that I
could hold you,
You don’t know how many times I’ve wished that I could
Mold you into someone who could
Cherish me as much a I cherish you
And I do . . . cherish you
And I do . . . cherish you
Cherish is the word.
. . . we stopped dancing, but again we stayed in each others arms. It was like we just didn’t want to be separated—ever.
After that, we danced every song that played in the line-up: Let’s Fall In Love, When I Fall In Love, Can’t Help Falling In Love With You, Love Is A Many Splendored Thing, I Don’t Want To Live Without Your Love, but then . . . when Sergio Mendez and Brazil 66 began singing, The Look Of Love, something happened. Something wonderful. Something . . . well . . . I’m not sure I should talk about it . . . here . . . I mean . . .well—it IS personal! What? You think you need all the details? . . . Okay! Okay! I’ll talk about it. Don’t get mad. Sheeeesh!
After the group crooned,
The look of love
Is in your eyes
The look your smile can’t disguise
The look of love
Is saying so much more
Than just words could ever say
And what my heart has heard
Well it takes my breath away . . . ,
. . . Andy lowered his head, bringing our cheeks in very close contact—and I do mean close—you couldn’t have slipped a credit card in between! And, at that precise second, without any warning whatsoever, his aura lit up, AND in response, mine did, too—and up until that moment, I didn't even know I had one. The two of them blended into a blaze of glory, filling the entire dining hall, at first glowing pink, and then flame red, casting their radiance up to the Swarovski crystal chandeliers, which then caught this brilliance, refracting it into millions of tiny little rainbows, each casting their spectrum of colors as far as the eye could see, being stopped only by the walls and the ceiling, which, had they not been there, would have traveled out into the night sky, lighting it up in a brilliant glow, and finally filling the entire universe, causing scientists the world around to marvel in awe at such a magnificent display of heavenly lights. Such was the manifestation of this explosive moment when two cheeks met and caressed on the dance floor.
And the group sang on,
I can hardly wait to hold you
Feel my arms around you
How long I have waited
Waited just to love you
Now that I have found you
You’ve got the look of love
Its on your face
A look that time can’t erase
Be mine tonight
Let this be just the start
Of so many nights like this
Let’s take a lovers’ vow
And then seal it with a kiss . . .
As the song was ending, I felt Andy’s cheek leave mine when his lips began wandering up to my forehead, just above my left eyebrow, planting little butterfly kisses all along the way. If his lips had been aiming for my lips, they were way off course. But I didn’t mind because after that they kept right on going—across my forehead, down the short length of my nose, then making a left turn, danced over my cheek to my right earlobe, where they rested a while to nibble and breath hot air into my ear.
Then once again resuming their journey, they made their way
s-l-o-w-l-y down my neck, leaving a fiery trail of little kisses, arriving at that place—the hollow at the base of the neck where sensation just goes wild! As the tingling there caught fire, I once again found myself making reservations for a trip to another state, called Oblivion—I was losing consciousness fast, and had to do something so I could be back by the time his lips had finally found mine. I shook myself and took a deep breath in hopes the hit of oxygen would bring me back.
Andy’s lips then found their way up my throat, and over my chin—they were now poised and ready for delivery. Could they make it? Would they make it? I could only hope. I even considered showing them the way, but at the second I was about to grab hold of his face and position his lips for touchdown, he drew back. For some reason he wanted to look at me—with his eyes, those powerful blue ones which can dissolve your legs to jelly in a matter of seconds, and cause your poor mind to take up residency somewhere else, like in an unconscious stupor. Then his eyes dropped to my lips where they got stuck in a lingering pattern—lingering and teasing, and teasing and lingering and . . . and . . . ANDY, THERE THEY ARE! I shouted in silence, JUST TAKE MY LIPS! WILL YOU JUST . . . TAKE MY LIPS? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR ? . . .
"Ellee . . . Elleee! Are you alright?" Andy was calling from somewhere and . . . and . . . he was he shaking me!
"Andy, what . . . what’s going on? Why are you shaking me?"
"Ellee, where did you go? Are you okay?"
"What do you mean? I didn’t go anywhere."
"Yes, you did. You left me for a minute."
I looked around. The room was spinning a little. It was the eyes. He had been gazing into my eyes. And . . . and what's more, he had been staring at my lips! I remembered then. I took a deep breath. I must have blacked out for a second, but I was back and I was ready. Where had we left off?
"Andy, where were we?"
"What?"
"Where were we?"
He looked around and said, "Here, in the dining hall. We’re here, Ellee. We didn’t go anywhere."
"No, Andy, not that!"
He didn’t know what I meant. I didn’t want to explain. "Ohhhh," I sighed in despair. I now knew all chances of him kissing me were gone.
"Ellee, what?"
"Huh?"
"You sighed. What was the sigh for?" He looked concerned.
"Nothing, Andy. It was nothing"
Sergio and the gang were just finishing their song.
I can hardly wait to hold you
Feel my arms around you
How long I have waited
Waited just to love you
Now that I have found you
Don’t ever go
I love you so . . .
Then it occurred to me, we had let go! We were no longer in each others arms. Was it over? Was that all there was? I looked across the distance that now separated us. He was looking at me . . . And then I knew. It WAS over! I turned to hurry off the dance floor, my heart on the verge of breaking once again. I started running, but when I reached the huge mahogany doors, Andy had overtaken me by then, and was grabbing me, swinging me around to catch me in his strong and commanding arms—leaving no doubt where I was to be at that moment—in his arms! He held me tightly.
"Ellee!", he cried out, "what are you doing? You can’t leave! Not now!"
My heart was thumping wildly, and was seized with the anxiety of the moment, being caught up in an emotional storm. We had come so close to sealing this love with a kiss, just like the song had said, and yet, like so many times before, it was not to be. Would it ever be, my heart anguished, would it ever be? And yet, here I was—in his arms, feeling safe. But was I really safe? Would I be disappointed over and over again and again?
My emotions, like those little rainbows being reflected from the Swarovski crystals, had many colors. I felt strangely happy and afraid, elated yet, scared, anxious but serene—all at the same time. It was like being caught up in a blizzard of swirling emotions, and not really comprehending where it all was headed. But, as I looked up at Andy, he seemed to know. He seemed sure, confident. He was smiling kindly, knowingly,—like he understood the turmoil going on inside me, so he held me close, patting me gently, stroking my hair, calming my fears.
"It’s okay. Everything is alright, Ellee," he reassured, leaning back a little to look at me. Then he ran his fingers through my hair and added, "my sweet little Valentine—my funny Valentine."
His smiling eyes looked so sympathetic as they searched my face for any sign my distress was easing up.
And at that moment, as if planned, Barbara Streisand began singing, My Funny Valentine, and Andy led me back to the dance floor where he placed my arms around his neck, and slid his around my waist, pulling me close, and then we began gliding over the floor, keeping rhythm with the music, as Barbara vocalized those immortal words,
You’re my funny valentine
Sweet comic valentine
You make me smile with my heart . . .
I knew then Andy was smiling with his heart and everything was almost back to where it was before my little side trip—but not quite. There was still this one thing. But maybe Andy had forgotten all about that one thing. However, when Elvis began,
Love me tender,
Love me sweet,
Never let me go.
You have made my life complete,
And I love you so.
Andy stopped, pulling away to look at me for several seconds, then he hugged me to him again, closer.
Love me tender,
Love me true,
All my dreams fulfilled.
For my darlin’ I love you,
And I always will.
Once again he just wanted to look at me. He opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t.
Love me tender,
Love me long,
Take me to your heart.
For its there that I belong,
And we’ll never part.
Leaning back this time he looked directly into my eyes and said, "Ellee . . ." But that was all.
Love me tender,
Love me dear,
Tell me you are mine.
Ill be yours through all the years,
Till the end of time.
This time he added another word. "Ellee . . . I—" but cut himself off. The song ended. His chance was over—there were no more songs. It was nearly morning. We had danced the night away and still hadn't kissed. He let go of me and started running his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth and then exploded,
"Dang it, Ellee!! Why are you making this so difficult?"
He looked at me with total frustration—that I hadn't even picked up on while we were dancing. I didn't know what he meant, and I didn't know what to say in response, so I just stood there and began wringing my hands and rocking from side to side in a helpless, nervous display. But he didn't like that either and yelled out,
"Ellee, just stop that! Stop that right now!"
But that only served to break open the floodgate of my emotions that I had locked up all day at every heart-stomping turn, and I started crying like my world had just ended. This tore Andy apart, and he immediately rushed over to me, dragging me into his arms, crying, "Ellee, Ellee, Ellee." Then he took my face in his hands and kissed the tears from my eyes, saying over and over,
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Ellee, I'm sorry. I don't understand what happened—I just . . . I don't know"
It took a while but I finally got contol and stopped sobbing. Andy was still holding me. I liked being in his arms. I thought maybe he liked it, too. After one last, little sniffle, I looked up at him and said,
"I'm okay."
For the next few minutes we just stared at each other, and then— the most incredible thing happened. Some people might say, Oh well, that was just a kiss. But it wasn't just a kiss. It was something else.
Andy had taken my face in his hands, and once again started planting little kisses all over, even tracing his earlier path. When he reached my mouth, he looked up to catch my eyes momentarily, just before ever-so-lightly brushing his lips across mine, leaving a fiery trail that continued to my jaw line, and down my neck to that sensitive place once again at the base of my neck. All the little nerve endings stood up at that moment and started cheering like mad, shaking their tiny little silver pom-poms like a million cheerleaders at the homecoming game.
As his lips made their way back up my neck, he began clutching at my hair, twisting and pulling, and entangling his fingers through the locks, pulling my head back. I realized my coiffure would have a whole new look once he was finished re-arranging it.
THEN. . . when time and space were no longer a barrier, when his lips finally closed over mine in a kiss as true and perfect as anything you’d see in a ‘B’ movie, the longing of so many weeks blossomed into a beautiful flower whose intoxicating scent filled our very souls, and rocked our world, causing our tectonic plates to shift and our planets to collide. Even our auras were blending again, causing an unbelievable display of fireworks and sparks flying everywhere. And the oxygen requirement for that little endeavor was tremendous—we were both gasping for air. There didn’t seem to be enough of it. And it was so warm in that room. Someone had turned up the heat. And then . . . and THEN . . . It was at that very moment the entire universe went super nova.
Well . . . okaaaay . . . maybe I got a little carried away—or even a lot carried away. Ohhhhh, alright . . . I made up a lot of that stuff about the planets and the plates, but the kiss WAS intoxicating, and it really WAS hot in that room, and we really WERE gasping for air. AND WOW, it really was an incredible Anderkiss! And that’s all I’m going to say for now . . . except, I really loved those fabulous Teton Mountains.
Bye for now,
Love,
Ellee
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