partygirl43
Refugee
THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Chapter 14
We slept for what seem like forever. I watched the light enter the room and change. I watched Bono breathe next to me, his freckled arm poking out from the white sheets. I looked at the alarm; it was 3:30 in the afternoon. I found a robe in the bathroom wrapped around me and kept out to the kitchen. I felt so disorganized, like I had been in a tornado, and just landed in a tree. I looked out at the lake, churning and vast. The demands of my life were looming; laundry, messages, friends, on one hand. Bono sleeping soundly in my Uncles penthouse on the other.
I took a breath and thought to myself; coffee, start with coffee. I put a pot on and went to the fridge, which was freshly stocked with all of the basics. I started to make eggs and toast, hoping the smell would wake Bono. It worked, he ambled out wearing yesterdays jeans, unbuttoned at the top and a black tee-shirt.
“Wow.” He smiled “breakfast. I didn’t know you could cook.” He hugged me from behind, kissing me behind the ear.
“Most women your age aren’t interested in cooking.” He said.
“Well, it was my job after my mother died. I had to learn how to cook, unless we wanted to eat canned ravioli every night.”
He took a seat at the breakfast bar and nodded sympathically.
“Even when I went to live with my Uncle I would hang out with the chefs in the kitchen. I picked up a lot from them. Besides, making eggs really isn’t cooking, wait till Thanksgiving” I flipped an egg onto the plate and the toast popped with perfect timing. I set the plate in front of him.
“Thanks.” He said.
“So,” I smiled “I have plans.”
He took a bite of toast, “Good, I was hoping you’d be my tour guide.”
“Well, first I need to go home and get some clothes and things.” I said. Just than his mobile rang, “Hello.” He said. He nodded into the phone, “OK good, Ok we’ll talk later.” He finished the call and looked at me.
“No news is good news.” He smiled. “The picture was in The Observer, but you were unidentified.” He continued.
“That’s good, I guess.” I said feeling a little like a fugitive.
He finished his plate and got up to pour himself some coffee. “Alright, I’m going to hit the shower.” He said. After we both got ready, we headed to my Uncle’s estate, so I could drop off my laundry and pack some clothes. I was eager to see my Uncle Paul.
We entered the front door, carrying in my duffels. Uncle Paul was there to meet us. He must have just returned from the club because he was dressed casually in pleated khaki pants and an argyle sweater.
“Ansleigh!” he stepped forward to embrace me.
“Uncle Paul.” I said hugging him tightly.
“I was expecting you a day earlier. You surprised me with your change of plans.” He said.
Bono stepped forward, extending his hand to my Uncle, “I hope you can forgive me for causing your nieces detour.”
My Uncle took Bono’s hand, “Bono, it’s nice to see you again, although I’d never think it would be under these circumstances. Anyway, Ansleigh’s here and well, so you’re forgiven.” Then he winked at Bono.
There was a moment of awkward silence.
“Paul” Bono said “Could we talk for a moment while Ansleigh gathers her things?”
“Why, of course.” My Uncle replied “Let’s go to my study.”
“OK” I smiled and shrugged. “I’ll just go get my things.”
Bono and Uncle Paul walked down the hall to the study and I dashed up to my suite. I opened the door to the room that had changed only slightly since I moved in with Uncle Paul when I was 14. It was more than I could have asked for at that age, it made me feel like a princess. It was light and pink and airy and had deep cushy carpets that my toes would sink into. Uncle Paul knew I loved Marilyn Monroe so he made sure there were plenty of Marilyn posters and pictures on the wall. I had my own sitting room with a fireplace, my own bathroom, a large closet and the bedroom. Of course, it all came with a deep sadness. I thought of my older sister, Ashley and what she would have thought of Bono. It made me sad that I could not share my happiness with her.
I looked around; my desk was piled high with unopened mail and magazines. The voice mail light flashed on the phone system. I took a deep breath. I had no idea how long Bono had planned to stay in Chicago, or what was happening beyond that. I felt as if I were packing to run away from home. I was sure my Uncle Paul was thinking his beloved adopted daughter, the practical, smart girl, had lost it. I thought momentarily to myself that I lost it; and I had, I lost my heart to the most amazing man in the world. I remembered what Bono said to me that night we first met. “You have to be willing to be complicated by me.”
It was, indeed, getting complicated.
My mobile rang, “Hello?” I said as I stuffed clothes into another suitcase.
“Ansleigh, you’re home.” It was Margot.
“Oh, Hi Margot. I just got in last night.” I said.
“I thought you were supposed to get in sooner.” She said.
“Well, my flight was delayed.” I replied, altering the truth.
“Oh, that’s interesting.” She said, her voice going up. “So, I heard a hot rumor Bono’s in town.”
“You did?” I asked “It’s probably that guy in the cover band.” I said.
“Came from a pretty reliable source.” She continued “I was just wondering if you knew anything.”
“Nope, Sorry. Look Margot, I’ve got a ton of stuff to catch up on. Can we have lunch soon?” I asked.
“Sure.” She answered.
“OK, we’ll talk later, Bye.” I said closing my phone shut.
For a moment in the conversation I thought about reveling what was really going on, but decided that Margot would not keep my confidence. Even though I wasn’t hiding, I did not feel like losing more freedom. At this point, everything seemed controllable.
Chapter 14
We slept for what seem like forever. I watched the light enter the room and change. I watched Bono breathe next to me, his freckled arm poking out from the white sheets. I looked at the alarm; it was 3:30 in the afternoon. I found a robe in the bathroom wrapped around me and kept out to the kitchen. I felt so disorganized, like I had been in a tornado, and just landed in a tree. I looked out at the lake, churning and vast. The demands of my life were looming; laundry, messages, friends, on one hand. Bono sleeping soundly in my Uncles penthouse on the other.
I took a breath and thought to myself; coffee, start with coffee. I put a pot on and went to the fridge, which was freshly stocked with all of the basics. I started to make eggs and toast, hoping the smell would wake Bono. It worked, he ambled out wearing yesterdays jeans, unbuttoned at the top and a black tee-shirt.
“Wow.” He smiled “breakfast. I didn’t know you could cook.” He hugged me from behind, kissing me behind the ear.
“Most women your age aren’t interested in cooking.” He said.
“Well, it was my job after my mother died. I had to learn how to cook, unless we wanted to eat canned ravioli every night.”
He took a seat at the breakfast bar and nodded sympathically.
“Even when I went to live with my Uncle I would hang out with the chefs in the kitchen. I picked up a lot from them. Besides, making eggs really isn’t cooking, wait till Thanksgiving” I flipped an egg onto the plate and the toast popped with perfect timing. I set the plate in front of him.
“Thanks.” He said.
“So,” I smiled “I have plans.”
He took a bite of toast, “Good, I was hoping you’d be my tour guide.”
“Well, first I need to go home and get some clothes and things.” I said. Just than his mobile rang, “Hello.” He said. He nodded into the phone, “OK good, Ok we’ll talk later.” He finished the call and looked at me.
“No news is good news.” He smiled. “The picture was in The Observer, but you were unidentified.” He continued.
“That’s good, I guess.” I said feeling a little like a fugitive.
He finished his plate and got up to pour himself some coffee. “Alright, I’m going to hit the shower.” He said. After we both got ready, we headed to my Uncle’s estate, so I could drop off my laundry and pack some clothes. I was eager to see my Uncle Paul.
We entered the front door, carrying in my duffels. Uncle Paul was there to meet us. He must have just returned from the club because he was dressed casually in pleated khaki pants and an argyle sweater.
“Ansleigh!” he stepped forward to embrace me.
“Uncle Paul.” I said hugging him tightly.
“I was expecting you a day earlier. You surprised me with your change of plans.” He said.
Bono stepped forward, extending his hand to my Uncle, “I hope you can forgive me for causing your nieces detour.”
My Uncle took Bono’s hand, “Bono, it’s nice to see you again, although I’d never think it would be under these circumstances. Anyway, Ansleigh’s here and well, so you’re forgiven.” Then he winked at Bono.
There was a moment of awkward silence.
“Paul” Bono said “Could we talk for a moment while Ansleigh gathers her things?”
“Why, of course.” My Uncle replied “Let’s go to my study.”
“OK” I smiled and shrugged. “I’ll just go get my things.”
Bono and Uncle Paul walked down the hall to the study and I dashed up to my suite. I opened the door to the room that had changed only slightly since I moved in with Uncle Paul when I was 14. It was more than I could have asked for at that age, it made me feel like a princess. It was light and pink and airy and had deep cushy carpets that my toes would sink into. Uncle Paul knew I loved Marilyn Monroe so he made sure there were plenty of Marilyn posters and pictures on the wall. I had my own sitting room with a fireplace, my own bathroom, a large closet and the bedroom. Of course, it all came with a deep sadness. I thought of my older sister, Ashley and what she would have thought of Bono. It made me sad that I could not share my happiness with her.
I looked around; my desk was piled high with unopened mail and magazines. The voice mail light flashed on the phone system. I took a deep breath. I had no idea how long Bono had planned to stay in Chicago, or what was happening beyond that. I felt as if I were packing to run away from home. I was sure my Uncle Paul was thinking his beloved adopted daughter, the practical, smart girl, had lost it. I thought momentarily to myself that I lost it; and I had, I lost my heart to the most amazing man in the world. I remembered what Bono said to me that night we first met. “You have to be willing to be complicated by me.”
It was, indeed, getting complicated.
My mobile rang, “Hello?” I said as I stuffed clothes into another suitcase.
“Ansleigh, you’re home.” It was Margot.
“Oh, Hi Margot. I just got in last night.” I said.
“I thought you were supposed to get in sooner.” She said.
“Well, my flight was delayed.” I replied, altering the truth.
“Oh, that’s interesting.” She said, her voice going up. “So, I heard a hot rumor Bono’s in town.”
“You did?” I asked “It’s probably that guy in the cover band.” I said.
“Came from a pretty reliable source.” She continued “I was just wondering if you knew anything.”
“Nope, Sorry. Look Margot, I’ve got a ton of stuff to catch up on. Can we have lunch soon?” I asked.
“Sure.” She answered.
“OK, we’ll talk later, Bye.” I said closing my phone shut.
For a moment in the conversation I thought about reveling what was really going on, but decided that Margot would not keep my confidence. Even though I wasn’t hiding, I did not feel like losing more freedom. At this point, everything seemed controllable.
