Frapuccino
Frappuccino
Grace stretched like a cat, after rising from her yoga mat, and walked towards the kitchen, tiptoeing, and the soles of her naked feet flashing white. The grinder buzzed up, decimating ice cubes into tiny fragments.
Yvette slowly returned her breathing to normal and ended the cycle of her meditation mantra. When she opened her eyes, the slender body of Grace already floated back into the dim training chamber, balancing two gorgeous cups of Frappuccino on a metal plate - their favorite reward after a strenuous session.
“So how was the weekend of the little princess? She visited her castle again, didn’t she?” asked Grace with a warm smile, descending on the black sofa. The venetian blinds drew brownish black and golden white stripes on her. It was still early morning out there. She playfully moved herself to keep her eyes in the darker line, while sipping from her drink.
Yvette tried to avoid looking at her, with a timid smile playing on her features while she sucked on the straw. “You know it’s not the same without you,” she said.
“You never called. I guess it was one of those lonely trips.”
“Yeah! Right.”
“You OK?”
“Sure… I just wanted to… get close to them. I miss him every day. Father. I just wanted to hear his voice. Grace, what the hell am I going to do with seven million dollars, cars, real estate, jewelry and a title for a crown?”
A life full of riches is not unknown to a girl like Yvette, who never went without; however, she learned the value of dollar at a very early age. “Money, I have money now. What a depressing thought, that’s what my sister said, now you have to keep men from getting in your pants and from only wanting you for what you’re worth.”
“I can think of many things to do with seven-mil and a bunch of handsome gold-diggers,” she grinned. “But I know what you mean. What you need, what you want … that’s something money can’t buy.” Grace carefully balanced a bit of crushed ice on her straw before she lashed out with her tongue to devour it all.
“I am truly grateful for who I am,” continued Yvette dreamily “...and what the lady I have been grown into, as a woman..., but sometimes the longing for the companionship of souls is just too much for my heart and my mind to handle.”
“That’s a very poetic phrasing of not getting laid lately,” giggled Grace.
Yvette smiled but she did not comment on Grace’s remark. She started to gather some momentum. “Now, I know that I am the light and the tunnel is the path and it never ends, you just have to make your own path. And walk the road you so choose to take. I always seem to choose the path least travelled, the most bumpy, and windy. The end is supposed to be beautiful and blissful. I never listen to anyone and I find it hard to break control of a situation.”
“I love my life,” Yvette went on “... well I could do help the poor, travel the world, you know, but what I really want is to find that one perfect guy.”
“Don’t we all…” wondered Grace, but she nodded acknowledging. “I know.” She crossed her legs. “What about that Ben character?”
“Didn’t work out. Something was missing. He was handsome, soft, attentive, but too quiet, wounded even... however, a hole inside a square, and even though I was happy to see him, a piece of the puzzle seemed to be missing there, every time. Yeah, something was missing.”
“Something is always missing, baby. Are you sure you’re not chasing your dreams instead of being grateful for what is given to you?”
“Grace,” Yvette said “I’m happy with myself, I am beautiful, confident and I am enough. Actually, I was thinking of returning to the dating … “
“That’s wonderful!” Grace interrupted. “My only concern now is, ‘Hi my name is Yvette, did you know you are dating millionaire?’”
They broke into a healthy laughter, keeping their half-full long glass cups safe.
“So, Ben’s not getting a shot at completing a survey of yours anymore, is he?” asked Grace.
“I knew that he wasn’t but a yearning for that special someone, that deep connection, and trying to create Ben in my mind as the perfect one, and fighting or defending this great guy for someone he was not.”
“Not exactly soul mates, then.”
“No, Ben was more of a lesson of what was not meant to be, a closure on a chapter of one amazing friendship. Ben is a good guy. Scared, hurt, wounded in the past by other women, charming, handsome and a soft hand.”
“The typical male,” Grace snapped “Given up on love and trusting anyone who even seems too good to be true, and, Yvette, you better know you do seem too good to be true to others. We know you are a genuine, loving, loyal person, you are different. Your cuteness just chases these coyotes away. They can’t wrap their heads and hearts around it. You remember, last summer, one of those long hikes we did at your parent’s house? What I asked about Ben?”
“Sure! When I showed you the tiny old Victorian summer home in the hills?”
“Oh, yeah! The creepy one with the screeching teeter!”
“And those lovely baby chipmunks running around!”
“It was there, right there. It was all new and exciting; you just could not stop glorifying him.”
“You didn’t understand why I insist that Ben is the guy for me… well, I had to learn this on my own.”
“Sorry, girlfriend. I just can’t stop giggling when I remember. You basically exclaimed how nice and shy he is and how he does not want sex from you, like, that’s supposed to be… right? I don’t even know a fitting word, but it is sure as hell not even appropriate.” She enthused
They both laughed for a while, and started stretching themselves down. Grace laid on her back and lifted herself as high as she could. Her well-toned body glistened in the twilight. She did not have to stop talking, words bubbled out of her luscious lips effortlessly, not minding the strange position.
“You are the most sensual, desirable, womanly woman I ever met. You’re radiating sex, and yet, you always seem to have this strange relationship with your own sexuality. Guys need to be nice and gentlemanly, for sure. But if they don’t want to make mad love to you, like crazy, after a while, that is just not healthy…”
“Well, it seems he sort of gave up before things could get really serious,” answered Yvette dreamily, peeking out to the waking city, between the blinds. “He got busy. Grace, tell me this, does it take longer than a few seconds to just text someone, and say, ‘Hi, I am really busy but I was thinking about you’?” Grace, why can’t they do this?”
“God made them so,” said Grace, smirking “For us, it seems like nothing, an effort that is not even worth mentioning. But for them, it is huge effort. And it’s not about the texting itself, of course. God, how creative and dedicated they can be while sexting… no. It’s about priorities, it’s about focus. For us, they are always in the center of attention. They freaking rule our universe! That only changes when we have kids, so after that the kid and they are in the center. For them, it is different. We are somewhere behind in their minds, like, a decent background, you know, a safe heaven. They are perfectly alright without us, and when they aren’t, when they start missing us real bad, it is still about their feelings… their passion, their desire.” Grace paused for a while, mixing up the remains of the Frappuccino with her straw, at the depths of her glass. “And, actually, this is why we fall for them. We want to be worshipped. Unfortunately, men can’t really worship something they don’t see, what is not in front of them. So, will they text you, yes, sometimes, when they are so in touch with their gentleman side that they do it for real, because they know we care, they know it is important for us. But it’s not something that is coming from them naturally. But anyway…” she finished, hanging her gaze on the thinking figure of her blonde friend, now sitting on the mat with legs spread wide, “...how they behave when they are out of reach is certainly a good measure on how important you are for them.”
“Well, yeah, he kind of faded away.”
“Good! Let him fade away peacefully into oblivion! How about new pastures?”
“I couldn’t sleep one night, thinking about… what I’m always thinking about, I searched for someone new, a teacher, and then I’ve found Jocelyn, a spiritual healer - specked P.A., she knows your innermost secrets by the color of your hair and eyes, and I kept asking her about Ben, and she argued with me and said, no, he is not the one….”
“No wonder.”
“I am not here to tell you what you want to hear,” she said, “but what you need to hear. It was a soothing feeling, talking to her, but also scary… like everything else when you let go of something you are really attached to… and then she mentioned the white room…”
“The white room?” Grace sprang like a deer in the headlight. “The one your grandma’s been freaking you out?”
“She’s not been… well, yeah, basically. The white room from the journal.”
“It’s not a big deal anyway. White is trendy. Cool white leather seating, smoked glass smoking table, ebony statues, something modern on the walls…”
“Gosh, stop it. I imagined it exactly the same!”
“Not surprising. It’s straight out from a Miami version of Fifty Shades of Grey. What else did she tell you?”
“Yeah, well, anyway that sort of… gave some weight to her words. Not that she wasn’t spot on with Ben, because I feel in the bottom of my heart that she was, but after mentioning the white room too, I was sort of hooked on her words.”
“So?”
“Well, there is this guy…”
“Great! Go on.”
“Okay. Jocelyn said his name is J-something, Italian, fun, honest, loving, and…”
“Now I’m curious!”
“And there’s another guy…”
“WHATT?!” she exclaimed
“Yeah. An Egyptian.”
“God, Yvette, you really are headed into the thick of it…”
“But he is sort of a mystery character, Jocelyn said he is somewhat veiled… and that I will be intrigued by him when the time comes…”
“So, anything on the radar yet? Fun from Italy, or the Mystical East?”
“Nah, nothing, but seriously, an Italian? I hate Italian Men, really, hairy, arrogant and full of themselves! Judgmental, yes, I know, but ugh!”
“Ha-ha,Yvette, you’re such a kid but an adorable one for sure. Well, let’s hit the shower, it’s almost 8. Want to go in together?”
“Sure,” smiled Yvette, and she started to get out of her training dress.
“Just to be on the safe side, if some hairy, arrogant Italians break in!” laughed Grace. The two women, well over their mid-twenties, ran bare-naked into the bathroom, giggling like two little girls.
