Chapter Two Remi
Chapter Two
Remi
Three Weeks Later
Remi lay curled into a fetal position in the center of her bed, the curtains drawn, her mind racing, trying to make sense of her life now. It had been two days since she’d moved from that spot except to empty her bladder, and three weeks since she’d lost Gerard.
“Remi!” A familiar voice echoed through the house. “Remi, are you here?”
She heard the voice but didn’t respond—couldn’t. Her entire body felt numb. She didn’t move when she heard the footsteps on the wooden stairs. Remi didn’t even flinch when she finally saw Bianca appear in the doorway.
“Oh no, Remi.” Bianca moved toward the curtains and pulled them open.
Remi frowned as daylight swept against her face.
“How long have you been like this? Have you been downstairs? When was the last time you had something to eat?”
Remi shrugged. There were too many questions she didn’t feel like answering coming her way.
Bianca sat on the edge of the bed. “Oh honey, you have to get up. You cannot stop living.”
Tears burned Remi’s eyes. Why couldn’t she stop living?
“You have to get up, honey.” Bianca pulled her up and into her bosom. “You seriously need a shower.”
Remi was wearing the same green sweatpants and a pink and green T-shirt with the letters AKA embroidered on it that she’d worn two days before. Her light brown, curly tresses a beautiful mess on her head.
“I don’t know if I can go on.” She said it softly, her voice trembling. Her head hurt from all the crying.
“Yes, you can, sweetheart. And you will. You’re strong, and capable. And you have to be strong, for Zoe. She will need you now more than ever.”
Remi breathed in deeply, thinking of her daughter. “I know.”
“She’ll be home for the summer soon, right?” Bianca asked.
“Yes,” Remi whispered. Having to face Zoe and have those hard conversations about Gerard’s death caused Remi’s chest to tighten. She was dealing with her own grief; she didn’t know if she was capable of dealing with her daughter’s too.
Bianca lifted Remi’s chin and looked into her eyes. “I will be here with you every step of the way. It will take time, but you will get through this.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive, Rem.”
Bianca escorted Remi into the bathroom and started the shower. Remi sat on the toilet with the lid down, her face in her hands.
“You have to try to organize some things. Have you been taking care of things—the house, utilities?” Bianca asked.
Remi looked up. “I just haven’t been able to do anything, B. Gerard handled everything. The house, the cars. He took care of everything …”
It was true. Over the years she had sort of checked out and let him handle things.
She had drifted from the parts of herself that once felt ambitious, driven, even though it wasn’t really who she was at the core.
In fact, it was she who had helped Gerard launch his business in the first place.
It had been her business plan that had gotten him into doors, her footwork, her late nights with him to brainstorm.
But she’d become too comfortable since then, focusing solely on keeping house, raising Zoe, and being a wife.
Little by little those things had snatched her identity.
She didn’t even remember when the shift happened; it just did.
“I know he took care of everything. It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” Bianca gently wiped the tears from Remi’s face with her fingertips. “While you shower, I’m going to make you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I know, but you have to eat. At least try.”
Remi nodded in agreement, and Bianca left.
She removed her clothes and dropped them into a pile in the center of the bathroom floor.
She stepped into the shower; allowed the water to cascade over her face and mix with her tears.
She closed her eyes tightly and wrapped her arms around herself.
She didn’t know how she was going to make it.
She rested her back against the cold wall of the shower.
Her body slid down the wall until her bottom rested against the coldness of the shower floor.
She was stuck there; paralyzed, lost in her thoughts and her what-ifs.
What if she had just made it to Gerard’s dinner with his clients that night?
They wouldn’t have argued. Things had escalated so quickly.
It was her fault that he’d gotten so worked up.
The realization of it caused a loud, painful howl to leave her lips—a sound that she didn’t even recognize as her own voice. The pain caused her chest to hurt.
Soon the smell of garlic and onions danced across her nose.
As she heard Sade’s voice flowing from the stereo downstairs, she stood, still numb, and wiped the tears from her face with her hands.
She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a plush towel around her body.
She moved into the bedroom and slipped on a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt.
A pair of Victoria’s Secret slippers on her feet, she headed downstairs to the kitchen.
Bianca Fuentes Perez was no stranger to the kitchen.
Her friend of thirty years was a jack-of-all-trades, and cooking had been one of her specialties, much like Gerard.
In fact, there had been plenty of times Bianca and Gerard had challenged each other to cook-offs.
While Gerard had mastered his New Orleans–style cooking, Bianca’s traditional Cuban dishes, which were passed down from the generations of women in her family, were second to none. And Remi was obliged to be their judge.
Bianca was dressed in a pair of denim jeans that hugged her shapely figure—a figure that looked more twenty-seven than forty-seven.
The tangerine-colored blouse was undoubtedly her own design, a piece from the rack of her boutique in the French Quarter.
Her long, dark, curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, she smiled at Remi with deep dimples; poured her friend a cup of coffee.
“Two sugars, no cream. Just like you like it.” Bianca smiled and slid the mug in front of Remi. “And I made your favorite, a veggie omelet.”
Remi took a seat at the large island with white granite and watched as Bianca moved around the kitchen with ease.
It was the same seat she’d sat in so many times, watching Gerard work his magic in their kitchen, dancing to the sounds of Earth, Wind & Fire, while singing some of the verses—off-key.
He always wanted her to taste something.
What does it need? he’d ask, placing a spoon against her lips.
A little less spice, she would always say with a laugh.
He loved things a bit too spicy in her opinion.
“That means it’s perfect,” he would tease, then roar with laughter. “You’re such a lightweight.”
“Because I don’t want my mouth on fire?”
“Because you can’t take the heat, girl!” he would say.
They would talk for hours about everything that came to their mind and laugh heartily. He would tell her how beautiful she was. And she’d blush. Even after twenty-five years of marriage, he still had the power to make her blush.
“Thank you,” Remi said to Bianca while sipping her coffee and staring out the kitchen window.
She watched as the leaves on the huge live oak tree blew in the wind.
She could hear the loud roar of the trash truck moving through their upscale neighborhood and realized she had missed placing the trash on the curb.
She thought of Gerard and of all the things he’d done for their family—removed the trash to the curb, handled the repairs, took care of the lawn, paid the bills.
Fear suddenly consumed her. What would she do without him?
Tears streamed down her cheeks again.
Bianca, seeing her tears, grabbed Remi’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Oh honey.”
Remi closed her eyes, tried to get through the moment.
It was why she’d stayed in bed so long, for days.
It was just easier that way—to numb from the pain.
Bianca held her hand until the moment had passed, and then she pulled a plate from the shelf and placed the omelet on it.
Then she placed it in front of Remi and handed her a fork.
“Here, Rem. Try to eat something.”
“We were headed to Napa Valley next week,” Remi blurted out.
“I know. For your summer thing.”
“Yes, and to get the winery up and running. There’s so much that needs to be done. Hiring contractors, getting licenses, and such. Zoe was going to meet us there after her finals.” Remi sighed long and hard. The tears were brimming, about to return. “But now …”
Bianca cut her off. “You and Zoe should still go. Get away for a while. I think it would do you good. And I think Gerard would want you to continue with your plans of getting Joie off the ground.”
“I don’t even know if I have it in me to open the winery anymore. The desire is gone.”
“You have to muster the energy. And I don’t believe the desire is gone. That’s all you’ve talked about for the past year. I mean, you’ve taken all these freaking courses in … God knows what.”
A faint smile flickered across her face. “Viticulture, enology, and winemaking.”
“Yeah that.” Bianca grinned.
It was true. In every spare moment she’d had over the past year, Remi had buried herself in the study of wine—taking classes at the local university, visiting local vineyards, obsessing over soil types and fermentation methods.
“It was the thing we argued about right before …”
“He would want you to move forward with the winery, honey.”
Remi sighed heavily. She was unsure about how Gerard would feel about Joie at this point. She knew that he loved Napa Valley as much as she did and cherished their summers at the beach, but after hearing the thunder in his voice that night, she wasn’t sure of his wishes about the winery.
“Joie was my thing.”
“And you’ve secured the capital for it. Therefore, you should move forward with it. Besides, it would be a great distraction for you.”
“It would certainly be a distraction. Take my mind off things.”
“I can help make some calls for you, or do some research. Whatever you need. I close the boutique at seven. I can come back by and we can hash things out. We’ll make a to-do list. It’ll be like when I opened Chic Threads—how you helped me,” Bianca said.
“And you know Mila is a wonderful artist. Let her play around with a logo design for you. Even if you don’t use it … ”
Bianca’s daughter, Mila—the girl who she’d known since birth—was studying graphic design at UCLA.
“You think she would?”
“Graphic design is her major. I think she’d be honored.”
Remi contemplated Bianca’s suggestion that she open the winery as planned. Honestly, it was the one thing that made her heart feel better.
“Gerard always said that if anything ever happened to him, to spread his ashes along the Sonoma Coast.” Remi covered her face with her hands. “I always just laughed when he said it—like that would ever happen. He was supposed to be here forever. He was not supposed to leave before me.”
Bianca walked over to the outside of the island and held her friend. She rocked Remi until she was consoled.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Remi whispered.
“I would not be anywhere else.” Bianca reached into the pocket of her jeans. “And plus, I got a key.” She held the bronze-colored key into the air.
“Yes, you have a key for emergencies.”
“Good thing too! Because today was an emergency. You weren’t answering your phone or calling me back. I didn’t know what was going on.”
“I felt numb.”
“It’s called grief, honey. I mean, it’s only been a few weeks. It’s all so new, but time will heal. You’ll get through it.”
“I know. Just like I did when Daddy died,” Remi said.
“Exactly.” Bianca made her way back to the stove. She tossed garlic and onion into a pan.
Remi cut a small piece of her omelet with her fork, tasted it.
“I’ll go to Napa if you come with me.” She glanced at the television mounted on the kitchen wall.
The weatherman was reporting that temperatures would be in the high eighties, which wasn’t unusual for May in New Orleans. Then she looked back at Bianca.
“What?” Bianca asked.
“Yeah. You, me, the girls. We can spend the whole summer, and I can get the winery up and running.”
“I can’t go to California, Rem. Definitely not for the whole summer.
I have the boutique to run, and Mila is spending the summer with Harry.
They usually go to that cabin together for a few weeks.
” Bianca moved to the pantry, grabbed a plastic cup, filled it with water from the faucet, then poured it into the plant resting on the windowsill.
A few of the leaves had begun to turn brown and she picked them out.
Remi had completely forgotten about the plants that she usually cared so deeply for.
Bianca lifted the window to allow a breeze to flow into the kitchen.
“Of course. I know that you can’t just drop everything. And I forgot that Mila spends the summer with Harry. I’m sorry for even suggesting it.”
Bianca sighed, glanced at Remi with her head cocked to the side. “I don’t know. Maybe Amelia could mind the shop for me … probably not the whole summer, but at least for a week or two. And maybe Mila could miss the first few weeks with Harry—go to the cabin later in the summer.”
“It’s too much to ask.” Remi regretted suggesting it.
“It’s not an outrageous request. Maybe …”
“It would mean so much to me.” Remi clasped her hands together before Bianca finished her sentence. “The winery would be a major undertaking. Gerard and I were going to do it together. …”
She needed to get through this thing that had suddenly become her life. Over the years she’d been so involved in being a wife and mother, she’d somehow forgotten herself. Gerard and Zoe were her purpose, her reason. Without them, she felt lost.
“Let me see what I can work out,” Bianca said.
Remi managed a smile. It was the first time in three weeks that her heart felt happy.