Fri, May 18 2012
Ermintrude watched as Celeste and Jules walked into the Aurora a little while after her relatives, Aleta and Marisol had finally come back.
"What happened?" Rebecca asked, walking over. Ermintrude could see that Celeste was not about to talk to her friend, and had probably sworn Jules to secrecy. Ermintrude sighed, then said, "Why don't you go and take that color out of young Verne's hair? He looks ridiculous!"
"Oh, not really," Aleta said, smiling, "he looks very much not like himself."
"Si," Marisol said, "ahora you es Chaparrito Colorado."
"Would you stop calling me that, lascan?" Jules asked, also smiling, "It's annoying."
"Still, you should see about getting it out," Phileas told him. Celeste nodded and took out something from her purse, "This will work. Take off the stuff right away."
"What is it?" Aleta asked.
"I found hair color that was the same as Jules' old, so I'm dying it back. This stuff will take off the old color and wash out, leaving it natural and feeling like straw. But, at least it'll be the right color. Come on, Jules. This won't take that long."
So the two departed and left the others to speak about them. Nothing much had changed for Jules; he was still his happy-go-lucky self, but Celeste seemed distant.
"I think it best if Aunt Ermie speak to her," Rebecca said, "maybe she can get something out of her."
"That would be best," Aleta agreed, "I think it would work well. From what I've ah seen of her, she greatly respects Ermintrude and would tell her a lot if she really wanted to."
The plan set, the group went off to get ready for bed.
-
A knock on the door awoke Celeste, and she looked up from her cozy bed to see Ermintrude come in with some food, most of it on the tray carried by Passepartout.
"Thank you," Celeste said, sitting up and beginning to eat. Passepartout smiled and left as Ermintrude sat down. "I see you have a healthy appetite."
"One thing Jules and I share is that we don't get food like this until we've come over to the Fogg's home. They usually feed us really well."
Ermintrude nodded. "I see." She paused, looking over the girl, then said, "Since I don't like to spend too much time asking for information now in my old age, I'll ask you now what it was that Lady Everatt said which upset you so."
Celeste stopped eating and looked over at the older lady. She finally said, "She used to be the friend of my mother."
"So you said."
"I hate my mother, and nothing she said about her being a good friend changed that," Celeste looked over at Ermintrude, "Where I come from I was given the best education. Not because my family cared about me. Not because they wanted to show affection. Because I could get it, and I did. I wasn't like this until I turned fourteen and saw what it was like for those less fortunate then I was, those who worked for my father and who had to work for my mother. So I took out my share of the money, said to hell with all of it, and left," she had looked down during this time, and now looked Ermintrude straight in the face, her eyes conveying all of the dashed hopes of a girl who had lost herself long before she had come to see Ermintrude. "I'm scared that I will have this continue, and in time my children will hate me for what I've done. I know it's stupid, but Everatt showed me that she was good, or at least kind, and I can guess that she somehow knew Erasmus but not Phileas. I can't, however, like her."
Ermintrude waited, wanting to hear the reason before it nearly hit her. Celeste, no matter what, lived for the future and the present. She hardly talked on the past, and when she did there was little description on it. Everatt, even for the few days and weeks that Ermintrude had seen her, lived mainly for the past. She was good, but she was, in the way that Celeste thought of it, living her past forever. Celeste would never accept that.
Celeste now finished her breakfast and Ermintrude left to go and speak with her relatives while Celeste got ready. Aleta and Marisol were bidding them all farewell; both had to return for college classes. Jules had his hair and eye color back, and sat eating pretty much all of the food he could. A few moments later, Celeste walked down in her normal (which consisted of clothing that, in Ermintrude's eyes were very inappropriate) and sat down besides Jules before saying, "So, what's happenin' today, Becca?"
Rebecca said, "Well, we're traveling back to Paris to make sure that Jules gets all of his classes done. You?"
"Might as well come. There are some superb dance halls around there, you just have to know where to find them. Wanna come, Becca?"
"No, thank you, I'm needed in England, as so is Phileas. It's just a quick stop."
"Well, da I mean, shoot, I wanted to see how well we could make the men drool."
"Maybe later," Rebecca said.
"It's a date, then," Celeste said happily, then started to leave.
"Where are you going now?" Jules asked, "We're ready to leave." "I know, but I just remembered that I promised to visit a friend of mine in London, then go straight home. I'll see ya all later!" with that Celeste left and Aleta shook her head, "Come on, Jules. Rebecca does need to fill out that report, and I'm sure we can give you a ride back to France on the train."
"Si, y tambien, I nunca ride on un train," Marisol added as the group left as well. The three Foggs watched them leave, then looked at each other.
"Well, how was Celeste?" Rebecca asked Ermintrude. The elder Fogg lady smiled slightly, "She'll be fine, she just needs to work some things out."
"Like her manners," Phileas stated. Ermintrude hit him with the umbrella. "Don't be rude, Phileas. I can see why you don't like her. Personally I think she should act like a lady more often, but she won't and there is nothing you can change about that."
Phileas opened his paper and began to read. "I know," he stated, "that is why I don't like her."
"Oh, Phileas, she acts just like you sometimes!" Rebecca stated, smiling slyly. Phileas didn't answer, and so the two lady Foggs left him alone. When they were gone, he sniffed.
"There is absolutely *nothing* we have in common, and if there was" he didn't finish the sentence.
What he didn't know was that Celeste was thinking the exact same thing after Aleta and Marisol, having caught up to her, had told her the near same thing that Rebecca did.
"That is a bunch of bull," Celeste stated as she watched the others leave. "We have absolutely *nothing* in common, and if there was"
Both went about their business and didn't think on it again.
The End
Author's Note: Okay, I know I'm going off a lot on Celeste, but Marisol has little to do (like Passepartout, unluckily) and Aleta is also busy with her life. Celeste, however, had made a happy home with me and decided she should barge in whenever the mood takes her. When Aleta and Marisol take a hint from her, maybe then I'll write on their past life, but Celeste is just so much more interesting.
Part 5 | Part 6