Chapter Five - My Personal Apollo

I sat crossed-legged on my black, leather chair and stared at the sun dipping into the horizon. It hid shyly behind the skyscrapers, but that didn't stop it from being just as fiery as it would've been at noon. The remaining sun rays reached out like tendrils of hope trying to latch on to the fading blue sky. It was promising the looming night sky that the light would soon pierce through the darkness at the beginning of every waking breath.

I sat and I pondered about this huge change coming my way. I built my company from scratch; it was the only love that was constant in my life. I had catered to this dream for as long as I can remember until it was finally a reality. I participated in every Writing Competition and Poetry Reading, and was the Senior Editor of my school's paper for two years in a row and before that I wrote practically every major article the school has ever witnessed. I even clawed my way into getting the Poynter Fellowship in Journalism to get into Yale. I aced all my classes and graduated with a stellar 4.0 grade point average. With all that, every decision I make towards the magazine not only affects me, but affects everyone that reads it. It was too much of a responsibility that I gladly carried on my shoulders.

Deep down in my gut, I knew this wedding issue was the right thing to do. The sales will be through the roof. It was a smart business move indeed. But I couldn't help but feel it was the beginning of some major changes heading my way. I couldn't quite decide yet whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. However, I knew for sure that I hated the fact that I'll just have to wait and see how this entire thing unfolds. I was more of the star act type, but now I was simply another umpire.

For the first time in a long time, instead of taking matter into my own hands, I was merely a spectator. I was way out of my comfort zone.

'You could never quiet that mind of yours now, could you?', a familiar voice pierced through my thoughts.

I hadn't realized that the sun had already set and all I could see where the twinkling window lights of the skyscrapers.

I turned around to see the man who startled me. He was one of the best dressed men in Manhattan, and his Balmain suit proved that. He looked incredibly young for a fifty-six year old, but then again he was in perfect health. His clean shave and silvery, white hair only added to his appeal.

'Well, I guess old habits die hard', I played along.

I got up and made my way to him. I was only too happy that he decided to drop by today. For many years, he was the only man to ever protect my heart. He still holds the title to this very day.

'I've missed you, daddy', I hugged him as tight as I could.

I may be tough. I may be a bitch sometimes, as Monica likes to put it. I may not give a damn and occasionally disregard others' feelings. But with my dad, I was a twelve-year-old with freckles on her face and a sophisticated French braid.

'You seem troubled, kid. Is everything alright?', he asked as I broke our embrace.

I looked into his catty-green eyes that were a mirror image of mine. There was so much wisdom in there, but not the type that dulled that beautiful twinkle in his eyes. After all he's been through; after what my mother put him through, and after what life threw at him after that, I admired him for standing tall and proud and ready to take on any adventure. Sometimes I wonder if he wasn't so kept together, would I have managed to be the way I am today. I got most of my strength from him.

I decided I didn't want to bore him with office-talk.

'Work stuff', I shrugged it off.

'Humor me', he insisted.

'You know what? I don't think I have enough alcohol in my system for that conversation. How about we go have some drinks at The Plaza?', I suggested.

'That's a fabulous idea', he said as he took my arm in his.

'You know you shouldn't be working so late', he chastised.

'I wasn't working, I was simply enjoying the view', I half-lied. 'You always had a thing for heights.'

'I have a thing for a lot of things, dad. It's kind of my specialty', I joked around with him.

Suddenly, it felt so easy to relax and exhale for a change.

We walked to the elevator before I remembered that I forgot my purse in my office. I hurried back to get it. As I grabbed my purse, I noticed that Madison had left me a couple of sticky notes on my table. They all read that I needed to call my mother back. Just like before, I crumbled them and threw them in the bin, silently praying that she got the message loud and clear; I wanted nothing to do with her tonight – or any night for that matter.

I caught up with my dad and we made our way to The Plaza. We've been awfully quiet for the entire ride. Even Benji couldn't fill the empty silence with his witty jokes. I guess we all had our fair share of baggage tonight, and unloading them in a moving vehicle didn't seem like such a fun idea. As a rescue attempt, Benji played some relaxing music in the background to try and lighten up the mood. It worked beautifully.

My dad never pushed me to speak. It was one of the things I admired about him. He never goes to you, but he makes sure you always came to him. It was a trick he used in both business deals and family bonding.

After a couple of Appletinis, I was ready to spill the beans. He listened intently and with no interruptions. I spoke as clearly as I possibly could and left nothing to chance.

'You see what I mean?'

'I understand your concerns, but I see nothing troubling enough to get you overboard', he said after a moment's thought.

He was right. I knew he was right. But I had a bad habit of over analyzing every move I make. It was both a blessing and a curse.

'If anything, it's a step forward. You're evolving as a person and most importantly as a businesswoman. You can never go wrong with that', he added to soothe my misled thought.

I smiled at him warmly. He always knew how to make me feel better.

'So, how's Adaline?', I asked, abruptly changing the subject so I don't dwell back to my miseries.

Adaline was my sister from the same mister but a different mother. My father remarried again after a terribly long time getting over my mother to the sweetheart Amanda. She restored his faith in humanity, and most importantly in love. But tragedy seemed to follow my dad like the plague, and he soon lost his beloved Amanda to breast cancer.

But before Amanda left us, she left behind the sweet and sensitive Adaline who was the spitting image of her mother. Her features were soft and romantic, and she had the perfect curly brown hair and hazel eyes to match her bubbly nature. Adaline was shy but outgoing when she wanted to be. She kept mostly to herself; she wasn't the typical out-of-control, rebellious teenager. There was a whopping fifteen years age difference between us, but despite that we were very close.

She just graduated high-school and was looking forward to joining Juilliard next fall where she can evolve her musical, otherworldly talent. Adaline's an incredibly gifted modern-day violinist. Her music could bring your soul to life, even if you are rooted in the deepest realms of hell, in the most passionate and sensual of ways. I've witnessed her put almost an entire room into a musical trance, and most of the audience left the concert hall feeling euphoric.

To put it in simple words; she was brilliant!

'She's getting ready to move out and get her own place. I'm going to miss having her around. I don't know how I'll do without her blueberry pancakes!'

'Henry? Henry Fernandez?', a woman sitting at the bar called out to my dad, halting whatever reply I had ready.

She was a haughty brunette, about my dad's age, and dressed into the most bosom accentuating, but not in a slutty way, red dress I have ever seen. She actually seemed pretty hot for her age. I had to mentally salute her for looking this good.

'An old flame?', I teased him as I swallowed the last bit of my Appletini.

'A pretty good-looking one, if I may add', he said, winked at me and made his way to her.

'Selena, darling. It's been ages', he said then kissed her on the cheek.

She was only too flattered by his gesture. I couldn't really blame her. My dad was as smooth as they can get. After all he's been through, I could almost envy him for still being such a hopeless romantic.

I looked at them as they flirted and laughed. They seemed like they were having a good time. They were allowing themselves to be vulnerable around each other. It was something I couldn't quite grasp.

A strange, foreign phenomenon that I couldn't wrap my mind around. Choosing to let your guard down and bare your soul to another human being who is simultaneously judging you and labeling you with a wide vocabulary of adjectives just seemed inexplicable to me.

He's too smart.

He's so sexy.

Oh, what a funny man!

But, oh he's too tall for me.

Does he have to articulate every syllable?

What a boring conversation!

And it never ends from there. You allow yourself to be judged, ridiculed, adored, loathed, admired and stepped on all in the name of falling in love.

Love; it was a stranger to me. It made sure never to cross my path. I wouldn't know what to do with such a fragile, delicate feeling. I wouldn't know, because I can never allow myself to be that vulnerable. It didn't seem like a smart thing to do. I mean, sure I enjoy the occasional love-making session as much as the next girl, but it doesn't grow beyond that. I don't expect a call the next morning, and when I do get a call I manage to tell them politely that there was no need to bother with me again. It was a fun night, thank you and goodbye.

And it's not like I didn't have my fair share of crushes, but they just seemed to make more sense in my head than to act on them in real life. I was only going to end up disappointed and with a broken heart. Why put myself through all this drama if I already knew the outcome?

Apparently my dad had a different idea about love altogether, because he never seemed to get enough of it. Nothing says let me try harder at this game of love like a failed marriage and a dead wife. My father took the meaning of brave-heart to a whole new level.

I left my dad a note on a napkin letting him know that I'll be heading home. I asked the waiter to give it to him as I made my way out of the hotel. I would've given it to him myself, but I knew he'd feel too guilty about me leaving and would end up leaving Selena drink by herself.

A woman never lets another woman drink by herself, not when she's clearly falling in love.

When I hopped into the Merc and Benji asked where I was going, I was about to tell him to drop me home, but I suddenly felt like I missed my half-sister, so I asked him to take me to my dad's place instead. Traffic was light this time of day so it was smooth sailing and a quiet ride. I promised Benji I wouldn't take long with Adaline because he looked beat. He assured me that he would take a power nap while waiting for me.

My dad wasn't kidding when he said Adaline was ready to move out. There were boxes lined all over the duplex apartment and they were labeled with all kinds of labels; books, clothes, music sheets. It was a good thing that my dad seemed to be hooking up with Selena because there was going to be so much room left in the apartment once Adaline is gone.

There were rustling sounds in the second floor; it sounded like that she had more stuff to pack. I popped open a bottle of red, poured myself a glass and marched upstairs to meet my sister. Her room was literally flipped upside down and her closet seemed like it exploded. I couldn't help but chuckle at the disaster before my eyes, and that's when she took notice of me.

'Hey, when did you get in?', she turned around and asked.

She was juggling a number of scarves and pashminas on my arms and neck. I couldn't hide the amusement from my eyes.

'About five minutes ago. Wow. You're taking this whole moving out thing pretty seriously', I tried to sound serious, but my sarcastic tone failed me.

'I never knew just how much stuff I owned until now. I'd like to give some of my things away to charity. I didn't realize I was such a hoarder', she complained with a terrified look on her face.

Her words made me smile a little more. She had such a kind heart and she was as innocent as a child. It was almost refreshing to see someone not tattered by the ills and woes of life. I mean, she was only eighteen, she hasn't really seen much, but she certainly had more grace about her than I ever had her age. When I was eighteen, even though I was what some would call wise-for-her-age, I didn't exactly have an optimistic attitude towards life like she does. I was more of a realist, setting the optimistic side of myself aside. Life disappointed me way too much to let the optimist in me out again.

'You know you don't have to pack all this stuff on your own, right? There are people you could call you could do that', I tried to keep my tone as light as possible.

'I know, and maybe I should. I just wanted to experience the whole moving out process on my own, you know. Get the feel of it', she said as she stacked some of the scarves on one box and the rest in another.

'I guess that's okay', I said as I found a free spot on her queen-sized bed and settled on it.

I sipped on my wine as I watched her work. I'd offer to help but she clearly had a system going on that I didn't want to mess with. I simply enjoyed the small talk as I watched her work.

'So you didn't tell me where are you moving to?', I asked as I studied the embroidery details of a shirt that was on the bed that I thought looked interesting.

'I found a place in Avalon Fort Greene', she said after a few moments too long.

I squinted my eyes at her. She seemed nervous as she spoke the words. She wasn't good at playing it cool when she had something she didn't want to particularly share.

'Avalon Fort Greene? Haven't heard of such a place in the Upper West Side. Where is it exactly?', I sounded a little too inquisitive, scaring her a little.

She swallowed hard as she was folding a pashmina, afraid to meet my eyes. Her curly hair fell on her cheek; she was clearly trying to avoid confrontation.

'It's not exactly in the Upper West Side', she said hesitantly.

'Then where?', I asked as I sipped on more wine.

'Brooklyn.'

I almost spit the wine and chocked a little as I tried to swallow it. She handed me a tissue, but kept a safe distance from me from fright. After I gained my composure I looked at her with wild eyes and she winced at the hostile stare.

'Brooklyn? Have you lost your mind? Do you have like a death wish or something?', I tried hard not to keep my volume in check.

'No', she mumbled, refusing to meet my eyes again.

'Does dad know about this?'

'No, I haven't told him yet. But I figured that once he sees me settled in and that I'm in a friendly and safe neighborhood, he wouldn't mind the Brooklyn part', she tried to sound confident, and somehow succeeded.

'He won't allow it. Heck, I won't allow it. In fact, I forbid it. You're not allowed to live anywhere other than...', I started ranting before she cute me of.

'Genevieve, calm down! You can come and see the place for yourself. It's homey and cozy and my roommates and I certainly love it. So you could either get on board or at least try and be supportive because my mind is made up about this and I am definitely going.'

If I wasn't so proud at the way she stood up for herself, I would've definitely given her a lesson or two on how to treat her elders. I've never seen her so dead-set about anything in her life the way she was now. Other than her music, she didn't really care for much. Moving out of here was a bigger deal to her than I thought. I decided I wanted to reach the bottom of this.

'But why Brooklyn?', I tried a gentler approach.

'Why not?', she shrugged as she continued her packing.

'Where do you want me to begin?', I asked sarcastically.

She slummed her shoulders in defeat and turned around to face me. We were sisters, so obviously we shared each other's stubbornness and debating skills. If she wanted to try to win me over, she would have to take a more logical approach. From the resolved look in her eyes, she seemed to have come up with the same conclusion. She emptied a spot next to me and sat down to face.

'First of all, I think the change of scenery will be good for me. If I want my music to evolve, I have to evolve as a person. And part of that is cutting myself off from the lavish, glamorous life I lead here. I'm not complaining, I just don't want people doing things for me all the time. That's not how my momma raised me', she said confidently.

Adaline was far from spoiled, unlike me who had people doing things for me all the time. I wanted to tell her that she was fortunate that way and she should feel blessed that she was better-off than others. But I guess I couldn't argue with the goodness of her nature. It made me kind of sad that there weren't a lot of people like her in the world.

'Alright. I'll give you that', I admitted my defeat.

'And second of all', she continued. 'All my "artistic" friends are from Brooklyn. I'll be around some really talented people all the time and we could influence each other. Besides, there's this really cute guy who lives next-door that I really like. He's also a musician. He plays the piano. He's really good with his hands', her voice ended up sounding dreamy at that last part.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Adaline, to my misfortune, was technically still a teenager and was all psyched up about finding love. If it wasn't already obvious, I'm clearly the ugly duckling of the family. First dad and Selena, now Adaline and her boy-next-door, it was too much romance for me to handle in a day. I decided it was time for me to leave my sister finish her late night packing.

'I hope that that's not the only reason you took that apartment. I'll have someone look at it and make sure it's up to code', I told her affirmatively.

'Gen', he started to protest.

'Hey, if you want me on board with the whole Brooklyn thing, you won't have a problem with a little inspection.'

'Fine', she said as she slouched.

I got on my feet, feeling a little dizzy from the wine, and gestured for her to help me out. She saw me to the car and promised to call me if she needed any help.

'What's his name?', I asked before I went into the car.

'Who?', she asked, at sixes and sevens.

'That musician guy living next to you. What's his name?'

'Win', she finally said after a moment of shock,

'Win', I mused. 'What an unusual name!'

'Alright sis, you need to sleep it off', she said as she practically shoved me into the car.

'I'd like to meet him one day', I told her as I rolled the window.

'Why? So you could scare him off?', she sounded defensive and crossed her arms to confirm that.

'No, no, no. I'm just looking out for you... sis. Besides, if this guy likes you back, he wouldn't have a problem with a little confrontation with the older sister', I managed to stifle a yawn and say.

'I think Miss Genevieve has had a very long day and needs to rest', Benji interfered to spare my sister the trouble of an argument.

She shot him a thankful glanced and hurried up to finish her packing.

'Hey, what did you do that for?', I asked, or at least I thought I asked, the world was slowly fading.

'It's never a good idea to come between young love, my dear', I managed to hear him say before I drifted off to sleep.