partygirl43
Refugee
Second to last Chapter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FICTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!FICTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Chapter 19
Thanksgiving was always a wonderful time for my family. My mother would spend days preparing dishes, the house full of warmth and laughter. It stopped when she became ill and passed away. My father did the best he could, but it wasn’t the same. Then the year came when, my sister Ashley, my father and my cousin Claire were killed in the accident. My Uncle and I had dinner at the country club. It was very cold and quite that year. Soon, something had changed in my Uncle and he began to reach out. First we would add a guest or two. A foreign intern who could not go home or a stranded business colleague. The dinners grew each year, and it would not be uncommon to find yourself sitting across from a Saudi prince and a ballerina at the same time. Even though our family was small and untraditional, the warmth and laughter had returned. Word spread, and being invited to our dinner almost became competitive sport in certain circles.
I got out of bed at 9am, leaving Bono to sleep. I pulled on my yoga pants and hoodie, pulling my hair in a quick pony. The help was arriving with boxes of fine china, silverware, crystal stemware and table linens the florist arrived next with arrangements and candles. I put on a pot of coffee, set out some bagels and cream cheese for everyone and turned on the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. The buzz was beginning. I wondered what Bono was thinking about this. I didn’t know if he ever had the chance to celebrate Thanksgiving Day. Seeing how it involved good conversation, delicious food and fine wine, I’m sure he’d be quite happy. I supervised the crew, instructing them how to the set the table, and where to put the flowers and candles. The penthouse was starting to change, for the past few days it felt only slightly warmer than the hotel rooms I’d been spending the past few weeks in. Now with the rooms were starting to come to life with activity and living, not just a safe house for a rock star and a girl from Chicago.
The help left around eleven and Bono shuffled out in a black hoodie, track pants and flip flops.
“Wow,” he grinned. “Where am I?” he asked looking around the room.
“Thanksgiving central.” I replied. He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the breakfast bar.
“It looks like people live here.” He took a sip of coffee. I looked at him, momentarily, wondering what was going to happen after the holiday. My life had been on hold for the past few weeks, I felt as if I were floating along on the river Bono. Is this what he wanted of me?
“What?” he asked questioning my gaze.
I shook my head, “Nothing.” I said changing the subject “Are you excited for today?” I asked.
“Of course, anytime there’s a meal involved I’m excited.” He laughed.
“Have you ever had Thanksgiving?” I asked.
“Well,” He replied “there’ve been times when we’ve been on tour during the holiday, but I can’t say I’ve experienced a proper American Thanksgiving.” He finished his coffee and bagel, and moved off the chair. He set the mug in the sink and kissed me.
“I’m getting in the shower. What should I wear? I didn’t pack a pilgrim outfit.” He said.
I tossed a towel at him, “Why not?”
Soon, Rose arrived bearing a bag of groceries I’d forgotten in my previous trip. I was excited for Rose to meet Bono. She was third generation Irish American. She’d been my Uncle head housekeeper for many years, a constant source of stability. I would probably be dead if it had not been for her tough Irish love. She was the widow of a firefighter who died in the line of duty, and had 4 sons. Two of them were firefighters, the other two were policemen. Even though she was more excited about Michael Bubles autograph, I’m sure her sons were excited for her.
“Hello.” I said taking the bag.
She handed it to me with a hug and a quick kiss.
“How are ya’ doing?” She smiled, following me into the kitchen. I put the bag down and looked at her. “I’m Ok.”
She reached into the bag and started unpacking, “You’re not very convincing.”
“No, really. “ I said. “It’s just been a little crazy for the past few weeks; I’m trying to get my bearings”
I handed her an apron and tied one around myself. “So Eamon and Jack were filling me in about your new friend.” She said.
“Well?” I questioned.
“Well. I gather he’s very famous.” She replied. “They were very excited.”
I nodded, “Yes. That’s true.”
“What else do you like about him?” she asked. It was the first time anyone had asked me this question.
“Rose, he’s so kind, such a gentleman. He’s so easy to be with...” my voice trailed and she smiled at me.
“Sounds like you’re in love.” She replied.
I took out our cutting boards and knives, “Yes, terribly.” I answered.
“Your Uncle said he’s older by a bit.” Her voice was concerned. I went to the refrigerator and took out the celery and onion and brought them to our cutting boards. “He is, but I’m not worried.”
We commenced with dicing our onions and celery. “I’m happy for you Ansleigh. You’ve been through so much in your life, you deserve better than the best.” I liked hearing this and smiled. We worked together, chopping and sautéing. Soon the penthouse was filled with scent of bay, thyme and rosemary. Bono appeared, with a crooked smile and we both looked up from our work.
“I’m beginning to understand the magic of the holiday.” He breathed in. “It smells great in here!”
I grinned, “I told you I can cook.”
“Bono, this is Rose Fitzgerald.” I said introducing them.
She wiped her hands quickly on a towel, and took his hand. “You’re going to make me miss the old sod with your lovely brogue.” She said.
“Rose, a real Irish Rose.” He said. He had his arm around her, and I could see her melting. She nodded, “Aye, my family is from Tralee in County Kerry.”
“You can’t get any more Irish than that.” He said. I laughed, “Yes, you can, she has 4 sons. 2 are Chicago firefighters, the other 2 are policemen.”
He blinked, “Incredible. You might be more Irish than I am”
“I’m making colcannon today, Bono. And soda bread!” Rose smiled at him.
He puts a hand on his heart, “Rose, you’re killing me.”
“Well, if you stay in here too long I’m going to make you peel potatoes.” I laughed.
He looked at me feigning shock. Rose clucked at me “Ansleigh, Bono’s a guest. Would ya like a pint?” she asked him and, of course, being Irish herself, didn’t wait for his answer and went to the fridge to get a can of Guinness and poured it for him in a pint glass. One thing I learned about Rose and her sons, they don’t care if you don’t want to drink, you’re going to anyway. I smiled at him and poured myself and Rose glasses of white wine despite it being eleven in the morning.
Rose is the first to raise her glass, “Here’s to a day of craic!” she smiles. We bring our glasses together. “Cheers!”
Bono takes his pint to the den to make some calls and work on his computer. Rose and I continue to work on dinner. Soon the turkey is roasting, some help arrives to clean up our mess and I shower and change out of my cooking clothes. I put on a plaid flannel skirt that has grey sequins scattered throughout the pattern, a black sweater and riding boots. As I walk through the halls at the other end of the penthouse I smell the turkey roasting, and hear the peals of laughter from Rose and Bono. I sigh to myself at this perfect moment.
Soon my Uncle Paul arrives with Aunt Bebe and Uncle Bounty. Aunt Bebe took her part of the Fisher Family fortune and donated most of it back to the foundation, the rest she took to New Mexico and settled into her life as an artist. She wore her hair white blonde, pulled back in a tight pony-tail, exotic caftans, and lots of silver and turquoise jewelry. I took some of my artistic temperament from her. In New Mexico she met Ellis ‘Bounty’ Howell; he was a real cowboy and a famed sculptor of western bronzes. He quite possibly had a personality larger than Bono’s. I wondered if they would both fit into the same room together.
“Ansleigh!” Bebe smiles, taking my hands and kissing both cheeks. “You look marvelous!” Her jewelry clinks and she smells of sandalwood and sage. “I’m so jealous of your Latin side.” She smiled.
“Aunt Bebe, you look great too!” I exclaimed.
“Well, do I get some?” Bounty, all 6’ 4 of him said stepping forward in his black felt Stetson. His voice was deep and rich.
“Bounty!” I stepped forward. He snapped me up in a bear hug, lifting me off my feet. “Mina!” he says. Bounty rarely calls me by my given name; instead he calls me “Mina” which I was told meant daisy in Persian. It was also the name of his favorite mare. I decide not to tell Bono that part. Bounty puts me back on the ground. The commotion brings Rose and Bono into the foyer. I step to Bono’s side.
“Bono, this is my Aunt Bebe and her husband Bounty.” I said introducing them.
Bounty extends his hand, “What the hell kind of name is Bono?” I see a worried look flicker though his eyes, but he extends his hand.
‘The same kind of name as Bounty.” Bono volleys back. Bounty flashes a smile. “I like you already.” The worried look leaves Bono’s face. “Bono we have an acquaintance in common.” Bounty says and continues, “I’ve done a lot of work for your friend Bill Gates.”
“So those were your sculptures?” Bono asks.
“Well, if they were sculptures with cowboys and horses they were mine.”
Bounty said. Bono nods and smiles, “Those were amazing. The detail on them was incredible.”
We start to move out of the foyer to the living room, I look up and Uncle Paul catches my eye, I smile at him and he smiles back waiting in the hall for the next round of guests that was on the way up. We find seats in the living room, drinks are passed around. Rose is scurrying about from the kitchen to the dining room to the living room, making sure everything is running smoothly.
“So Mina, how’d y’all meet?” Bounty asks.
“Mina?” Bono replies. I shift in my seat, “Ohhh God! It’s a long story.” I squeak, knowing Bounty will spill the beans.
“Mina, didn’t tell you? Shoot. I call Ansleigh Mina, it means daisy in Persian, and it was the name of my favorite mare. Mina’s mane was the same color of Ansleigh’s hair. Ans would come out every summer for a few weeks to ride; I just started calling her Mina.” I look at Bono, who’s looking over the rims of his glasses at me. He’s trying not to laugh.
“A mare?” Bono grins and puts his forehead to mine. I dig my nails into his arm.
“Best damn mare in the world, my best cattle horse.” Bounty’s eyes go wistful. Bono and I laugh. “Mina and I met here in Chicago at a Fisher Fundraiser.” Bono answers the question. I excuse myself to help Rose. The kitchen is humming with activity, the staff putting the finishing touches on the dishes we started. “Looks like everyone is getting on wonderfully.” Rose smiles. I survey the scene, and everyone is getting on wonderfully. Bounty, Bebe and Bono are locked in an animated discussion, Uncle Paul is chatting with our Japanese poet laureate and his business associates. I smile. Bono finds me at the wet bar, “Hi Mina.” I blush when he says this.
“I can’t believe he told you that story.” I said pouring myself more wine. “I think it’s very cute.” He smiles. “I like hearing about you and your family, it very fascinating. I’m glad I decided to be here in Chicago.”
I look at him, “I’m glad you’re here too. I think you fit in well.” He leans in to kiss me quickly, “Mina.” He says.
The evening wore on. Dinner was delicious, filled with amazing conversations. Bono and Bounty getting on like old pals. My Uncle Paul sat at the head of the table, his eyes smiling at the proceedings. He was like a ringmaster. After dinner, as the staff straightened the table and kitchen, the guys went to have cigars in the den. After they were finished, Rose announced desert. “Ansleigh and I worked so hard on these pies!” she exclaimed. Bono shot me a look from across the room. I laughed out loud. The food and conversation wore on, the candles and flowers glowing as the sun started to lower in the sky. It was so lovely. I ran to my room to grab my camera, I needed to capture the moment. I took pictures of Bono, Bebe and Bounty locked in conversation, the shy poet looking at the art that hung through the penthouse, Rose with her hands in the sink, and Uncle Paul, sitting in his leather club chair looking on mirthfully at his party. Bebe saw me taking pictures, “Would you like one of you and Bono?” She asked. I nodded handing her the camera as we went over to where Bono was. She stopped me for a moment, “Ansleigh, he’s really wonderful. Beyond wonderful. I think you were meant to be together.” Her eyes glittered and she reached out to stroke my hair looking at me sweetly. She looked like she knew something I didn’t. “We’ll see what happens.” I said cautiously. “I’m just trying to stay in the moment.” I smiled at her.
“Bono,” Bebe said “How’s about a picture of you and Mina?” He grabbed me bringing me close to him. I stood in front of him, his arms around me, chin in my shoulder, face close to mine. “Smile!” Bebe exclaimed holding the camera. Bono said “Mina!” and we both cracked up at the same time.
The time came for our guests to say goodbye, e-mails and phone numbers were exchanged. Uncle Paul and Rose looked exhausted, “Thank you so much Uncle Paul.” I hugged him, then turned to Rose, “Rose, I love you, thanks for your help.”
“We love you too Ansleigh.” Rose said. Then they turned to Bono, my Uncle Paul extending his hand, “Bono, I think this was one of the most enjoyable Thanksgivings we’ve celebrated. Thank You for being part of it.”
“Paul, it was an honor. Thank You for your hospitality.” He said and turned to Rose, “The Rose of Tralee! I love you!” he exclaimed. She squeezed him, “Bono, I’ll cook for you anytime.” We watched as they entered the elevator. Bebe and Bounty were next, Bounty again, scooping me up in a hug. “We love you Mina.” He said into my ear. Putting me down he extended his hand to Bono, “Well I hope if you’re ever out west you come to see us at the ranch.” He shook his hand. “I just might have to schedule a trip, Ellis.” Bebe gave Bono a squeeze and turned to me. “Darling.” was all she said as she patted my back. We watched as they disappeared into the elevator. It was over. The house was still, I exhaled loudly, looking around at the candles still flickering. I took off my boots and wandered around, turning off lamps.
Bono was standing in front of the large window facing the lake. The moon once again was full and round, the water shimmering under its presence. He was illuminated by its pale blue light. I went over and stood by him, looking out at the waves.
“What a great night.” I sighed, looking at the city and the lake beyond. I looked at his face in the windows reflection.
“I didn’t ever think I’d be at a loss for words…” he said. His voice sounded raspy from talking all night.
“Well, I should have warned you about Bounty he’s a bit…”
Bono interrupted me, “No, it’s not about Bounty.” He said and continued, “If this holiday is about being thankful, I’m thankful you decided to say yes, when you came to the hotel…” his voice trailed off.
Still facing the water he reached over and took my hand into his, I felt him place something in my palm, cold and small. I looked down at my hand. In it a ring, the center stone an aquamarine, as blue as his eyes. I swallowed hard, felt my eyes go wide and blinked. My heart started to pound. He turned to me and put his hands on my arms and looked deep into my eyes, “I don’t really have anything clever to say. I just know I want you in my life the right way.” he paused for what felt like forever, “Will you marry me?” and he fell to his knees holding my waist. Instantly, my eyes started to burn with tears, and I held the ring up with one hand, and put my other hand on his head. I moved his head to look at me; his eyes were going moist too.
“Yes. I’ll marry you.” I said sobbing and fell to my knees. I held out my hand and gave him the ring; he slid it on my finger.
“It reminded me of the water.” He sniffed.
“It looks like your eyes, so endlessly deep and blue.” I sniffed harder.
He gathered me in his arms, my face in his neck, my tears mingling with my kisses. He brought my chin up and kissed me long and deep.
“I love you.” I said my face wet. “So how did this Thanksgiving compare?” he smiled, wiping my face gently with his thumbs. I held out the ring to look at it.
“I think this was the best ever.” I smiled.
FICTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!FICTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Chapter 19
Thanksgiving was always a wonderful time for my family. My mother would spend days preparing dishes, the house full of warmth and laughter. It stopped when she became ill and passed away. My father did the best he could, but it wasn’t the same. Then the year came when, my sister Ashley, my father and my cousin Claire were killed in the accident. My Uncle and I had dinner at the country club. It was very cold and quite that year. Soon, something had changed in my Uncle and he began to reach out. First we would add a guest or two. A foreign intern who could not go home or a stranded business colleague. The dinners grew each year, and it would not be uncommon to find yourself sitting across from a Saudi prince and a ballerina at the same time. Even though our family was small and untraditional, the warmth and laughter had returned. Word spread, and being invited to our dinner almost became competitive sport in certain circles.
I got out of bed at 9am, leaving Bono to sleep. I pulled on my yoga pants and hoodie, pulling my hair in a quick pony. The help was arriving with boxes of fine china, silverware, crystal stemware and table linens the florist arrived next with arrangements and candles. I put on a pot of coffee, set out some bagels and cream cheese for everyone and turned on the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. The buzz was beginning. I wondered what Bono was thinking about this. I didn’t know if he ever had the chance to celebrate Thanksgiving Day. Seeing how it involved good conversation, delicious food and fine wine, I’m sure he’d be quite happy. I supervised the crew, instructing them how to the set the table, and where to put the flowers and candles. The penthouse was starting to change, for the past few days it felt only slightly warmer than the hotel rooms I’d been spending the past few weeks in. Now with the rooms were starting to come to life with activity and living, not just a safe house for a rock star and a girl from Chicago.
The help left around eleven and Bono shuffled out in a black hoodie, track pants and flip flops.
“Wow,” he grinned. “Where am I?” he asked looking around the room.
“Thanksgiving central.” I replied. He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the breakfast bar.
“It looks like people live here.” He took a sip of coffee. I looked at him, momentarily, wondering what was going to happen after the holiday. My life had been on hold for the past few weeks, I felt as if I were floating along on the river Bono. Is this what he wanted of me?
“What?” he asked questioning my gaze.
I shook my head, “Nothing.” I said changing the subject “Are you excited for today?” I asked.
“Of course, anytime there’s a meal involved I’m excited.” He laughed.
“Have you ever had Thanksgiving?” I asked.
“Well,” He replied “there’ve been times when we’ve been on tour during the holiday, but I can’t say I’ve experienced a proper American Thanksgiving.” He finished his coffee and bagel, and moved off the chair. He set the mug in the sink and kissed me.
“I’m getting in the shower. What should I wear? I didn’t pack a pilgrim outfit.” He said.
I tossed a towel at him, “Why not?”
Soon, Rose arrived bearing a bag of groceries I’d forgotten in my previous trip. I was excited for Rose to meet Bono. She was third generation Irish American. She’d been my Uncle head housekeeper for many years, a constant source of stability. I would probably be dead if it had not been for her tough Irish love. She was the widow of a firefighter who died in the line of duty, and had 4 sons. Two of them were firefighters, the other two were policemen. Even though she was more excited about Michael Bubles autograph, I’m sure her sons were excited for her.
“Hello.” I said taking the bag.
She handed it to me with a hug and a quick kiss.
“How are ya’ doing?” She smiled, following me into the kitchen. I put the bag down and looked at her. “I’m Ok.”
She reached into the bag and started unpacking, “You’re not very convincing.”
“No, really. “ I said. “It’s just been a little crazy for the past few weeks; I’m trying to get my bearings”
I handed her an apron and tied one around myself. “So Eamon and Jack were filling me in about your new friend.” She said.
“Well?” I questioned.
“Well. I gather he’s very famous.” She replied. “They were very excited.”
I nodded, “Yes. That’s true.”
“What else do you like about him?” she asked. It was the first time anyone had asked me this question.
“Rose, he’s so kind, such a gentleman. He’s so easy to be with...” my voice trailed and she smiled at me.
“Sounds like you’re in love.” She replied.
I took out our cutting boards and knives, “Yes, terribly.” I answered.
“Your Uncle said he’s older by a bit.” Her voice was concerned. I went to the refrigerator and took out the celery and onion and brought them to our cutting boards. “He is, but I’m not worried.”
We commenced with dicing our onions and celery. “I’m happy for you Ansleigh. You’ve been through so much in your life, you deserve better than the best.” I liked hearing this and smiled. We worked together, chopping and sautéing. Soon the penthouse was filled with scent of bay, thyme and rosemary. Bono appeared, with a crooked smile and we both looked up from our work.
“I’m beginning to understand the magic of the holiday.” He breathed in. “It smells great in here!”
I grinned, “I told you I can cook.”
“Bono, this is Rose Fitzgerald.” I said introducing them.
She wiped her hands quickly on a towel, and took his hand. “You’re going to make me miss the old sod with your lovely brogue.” She said.
“Rose, a real Irish Rose.” He said. He had his arm around her, and I could see her melting. She nodded, “Aye, my family is from Tralee in County Kerry.”
“You can’t get any more Irish than that.” He said. I laughed, “Yes, you can, she has 4 sons. 2 are Chicago firefighters, the other 2 are policemen.”
He blinked, “Incredible. You might be more Irish than I am”
“I’m making colcannon today, Bono. And soda bread!” Rose smiled at him.
He puts a hand on his heart, “Rose, you’re killing me.”
“Well, if you stay in here too long I’m going to make you peel potatoes.” I laughed.
He looked at me feigning shock. Rose clucked at me “Ansleigh, Bono’s a guest. Would ya like a pint?” she asked him and, of course, being Irish herself, didn’t wait for his answer and went to the fridge to get a can of Guinness and poured it for him in a pint glass. One thing I learned about Rose and her sons, they don’t care if you don’t want to drink, you’re going to anyway. I smiled at him and poured myself and Rose glasses of white wine despite it being eleven in the morning.
Rose is the first to raise her glass, “Here’s to a day of craic!” she smiles. We bring our glasses together. “Cheers!”
Bono takes his pint to the den to make some calls and work on his computer. Rose and I continue to work on dinner. Soon the turkey is roasting, some help arrives to clean up our mess and I shower and change out of my cooking clothes. I put on a plaid flannel skirt that has grey sequins scattered throughout the pattern, a black sweater and riding boots. As I walk through the halls at the other end of the penthouse I smell the turkey roasting, and hear the peals of laughter from Rose and Bono. I sigh to myself at this perfect moment.
Soon my Uncle Paul arrives with Aunt Bebe and Uncle Bounty. Aunt Bebe took her part of the Fisher Family fortune and donated most of it back to the foundation, the rest she took to New Mexico and settled into her life as an artist. She wore her hair white blonde, pulled back in a tight pony-tail, exotic caftans, and lots of silver and turquoise jewelry. I took some of my artistic temperament from her. In New Mexico she met Ellis ‘Bounty’ Howell; he was a real cowboy and a famed sculptor of western bronzes. He quite possibly had a personality larger than Bono’s. I wondered if they would both fit into the same room together.
“Ansleigh!” Bebe smiles, taking my hands and kissing both cheeks. “You look marvelous!” Her jewelry clinks and she smells of sandalwood and sage. “I’m so jealous of your Latin side.” She smiled.
“Aunt Bebe, you look great too!” I exclaimed.
“Well, do I get some?” Bounty, all 6’ 4 of him said stepping forward in his black felt Stetson. His voice was deep and rich.
“Bounty!” I stepped forward. He snapped me up in a bear hug, lifting me off my feet. “Mina!” he says. Bounty rarely calls me by my given name; instead he calls me “Mina” which I was told meant daisy in Persian. It was also the name of his favorite mare. I decide not to tell Bono that part. Bounty puts me back on the ground. The commotion brings Rose and Bono into the foyer. I step to Bono’s side.
“Bono, this is my Aunt Bebe and her husband Bounty.” I said introducing them.
Bounty extends his hand, “What the hell kind of name is Bono?” I see a worried look flicker though his eyes, but he extends his hand.
‘The same kind of name as Bounty.” Bono volleys back. Bounty flashes a smile. “I like you already.” The worried look leaves Bono’s face. “Bono we have an acquaintance in common.” Bounty says and continues, “I’ve done a lot of work for your friend Bill Gates.”
“So those were your sculptures?” Bono asks.
“Well, if they were sculptures with cowboys and horses they were mine.”
Bounty said. Bono nods and smiles, “Those were amazing. The detail on them was incredible.”
We start to move out of the foyer to the living room, I look up and Uncle Paul catches my eye, I smile at him and he smiles back waiting in the hall for the next round of guests that was on the way up. We find seats in the living room, drinks are passed around. Rose is scurrying about from the kitchen to the dining room to the living room, making sure everything is running smoothly.
“So Mina, how’d y’all meet?” Bounty asks.
“Mina?” Bono replies. I shift in my seat, “Ohhh God! It’s a long story.” I squeak, knowing Bounty will spill the beans.
“Mina, didn’t tell you? Shoot. I call Ansleigh Mina, it means daisy in Persian, and it was the name of my favorite mare. Mina’s mane was the same color of Ansleigh’s hair. Ans would come out every summer for a few weeks to ride; I just started calling her Mina.” I look at Bono, who’s looking over the rims of his glasses at me. He’s trying not to laugh.
“A mare?” Bono grins and puts his forehead to mine. I dig my nails into his arm.
“Best damn mare in the world, my best cattle horse.” Bounty’s eyes go wistful. Bono and I laugh. “Mina and I met here in Chicago at a Fisher Fundraiser.” Bono answers the question. I excuse myself to help Rose. The kitchen is humming with activity, the staff putting the finishing touches on the dishes we started. “Looks like everyone is getting on wonderfully.” Rose smiles. I survey the scene, and everyone is getting on wonderfully. Bounty, Bebe and Bono are locked in an animated discussion, Uncle Paul is chatting with our Japanese poet laureate and his business associates. I smile. Bono finds me at the wet bar, “Hi Mina.” I blush when he says this.
“I can’t believe he told you that story.” I said pouring myself more wine. “I think it’s very cute.” He smiles. “I like hearing about you and your family, it very fascinating. I’m glad I decided to be here in Chicago.”
I look at him, “I’m glad you’re here too. I think you fit in well.” He leans in to kiss me quickly, “Mina.” He says.
The evening wore on. Dinner was delicious, filled with amazing conversations. Bono and Bounty getting on like old pals. My Uncle Paul sat at the head of the table, his eyes smiling at the proceedings. He was like a ringmaster. After dinner, as the staff straightened the table and kitchen, the guys went to have cigars in the den. After they were finished, Rose announced desert. “Ansleigh and I worked so hard on these pies!” she exclaimed. Bono shot me a look from across the room. I laughed out loud. The food and conversation wore on, the candles and flowers glowing as the sun started to lower in the sky. It was so lovely. I ran to my room to grab my camera, I needed to capture the moment. I took pictures of Bono, Bebe and Bounty locked in conversation, the shy poet looking at the art that hung through the penthouse, Rose with her hands in the sink, and Uncle Paul, sitting in his leather club chair looking on mirthfully at his party. Bebe saw me taking pictures, “Would you like one of you and Bono?” She asked. I nodded handing her the camera as we went over to where Bono was. She stopped me for a moment, “Ansleigh, he’s really wonderful. Beyond wonderful. I think you were meant to be together.” Her eyes glittered and she reached out to stroke my hair looking at me sweetly. She looked like she knew something I didn’t. “We’ll see what happens.” I said cautiously. “I’m just trying to stay in the moment.” I smiled at her.
“Bono,” Bebe said “How’s about a picture of you and Mina?” He grabbed me bringing me close to him. I stood in front of him, his arms around me, chin in my shoulder, face close to mine. “Smile!” Bebe exclaimed holding the camera. Bono said “Mina!” and we both cracked up at the same time.
The time came for our guests to say goodbye, e-mails and phone numbers were exchanged. Uncle Paul and Rose looked exhausted, “Thank you so much Uncle Paul.” I hugged him, then turned to Rose, “Rose, I love you, thanks for your help.”
“We love you too Ansleigh.” Rose said. Then they turned to Bono, my Uncle Paul extending his hand, “Bono, I think this was one of the most enjoyable Thanksgivings we’ve celebrated. Thank You for being part of it.”
“Paul, it was an honor. Thank You for your hospitality.” He said and turned to Rose, “The Rose of Tralee! I love you!” he exclaimed. She squeezed him, “Bono, I’ll cook for you anytime.” We watched as they entered the elevator. Bebe and Bounty were next, Bounty again, scooping me up in a hug. “We love you Mina.” He said into my ear. Putting me down he extended his hand to Bono, “Well I hope if you’re ever out west you come to see us at the ranch.” He shook his hand. “I just might have to schedule a trip, Ellis.” Bebe gave Bono a squeeze and turned to me. “Darling.” was all she said as she patted my back. We watched as they disappeared into the elevator. It was over. The house was still, I exhaled loudly, looking around at the candles still flickering. I took off my boots and wandered around, turning off lamps.
Bono was standing in front of the large window facing the lake. The moon once again was full and round, the water shimmering under its presence. He was illuminated by its pale blue light. I went over and stood by him, looking out at the waves.
“What a great night.” I sighed, looking at the city and the lake beyond. I looked at his face in the windows reflection.
“I didn’t ever think I’d be at a loss for words…” he said. His voice sounded raspy from talking all night.
“Well, I should have warned you about Bounty he’s a bit…”
Bono interrupted me, “No, it’s not about Bounty.” He said and continued, “If this holiday is about being thankful, I’m thankful you decided to say yes, when you came to the hotel…” his voice trailed off.
Still facing the water he reached over and took my hand into his, I felt him place something in my palm, cold and small. I looked down at my hand. In it a ring, the center stone an aquamarine, as blue as his eyes. I swallowed hard, felt my eyes go wide and blinked. My heart started to pound. He turned to me and put his hands on my arms and looked deep into my eyes, “I don’t really have anything clever to say. I just know I want you in my life the right way.” he paused for what felt like forever, “Will you marry me?” and he fell to his knees holding my waist. Instantly, my eyes started to burn with tears, and I held the ring up with one hand, and put my other hand on his head. I moved his head to look at me; his eyes were going moist too.
“Yes. I’ll marry you.” I said sobbing and fell to my knees. I held out my hand and gave him the ring; he slid it on my finger.
“It reminded me of the water.” He sniffed.
“It looks like your eyes, so endlessly deep and blue.” I sniffed harder.
He gathered me in his arms, my face in his neck, my tears mingling with my kisses. He brought my chin up and kissed me long and deep.
“I love you.” I said my face wet. “So how did this Thanksgiving compare?” he smiled, wiping my face gently with his thumbs. I held out the ring to look at it.
“I think this was the best ever.” I smiled.
