The dreaded call

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"Can't get outta this mood,
Can't get outta this feelin',
Can't get outta this mood -
Last night, your lips were appeelin'..."

This song was in my head since the moment I woke up, a song which I didn't dare sing out loud because this was the 1920s and I wasn't sure if it or in fact Nina Simone who sang it were around at that time. But ever since after breakfast, I couldn't help thinking about him or the song itself.

Celestine however noticed the dreamy look on my face and went:

"So what are you thinking of?"

"More like who, Celestine."

"Then who? I wanna know."

"It's the Bluejay, Celestine, the Bluejay."

"Whom are you calling the Bluejay? Is it J-A-Y G-A-T-S-B-Y if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yes, it sure is. And spelling that name ain't gonna hide it too much. Just call him as I do - the Bluejay."

"Good. I will from now on. So let me guess. You guys met yesterday on the pier. I'm not wrong, am I?"

"Yeah, that's what happened. And such a sweet he was! Callin' me a fairy, tellin' me he knows you well and that he'll see me again... Even held me, Celestine! Can you imagine?"

"I can. And it you chose him, it would be a mighty fine choice. He treats all those around him how they should be treated. He's got a real good reputation himself despite the minor interference with the Buchanans if you know what I'm saying. All the bad things are said about me because you know I'm the sister of the infamous Nick Carraway. This is why I never introduce myself as Celestine Carraway - the mockery would start right away. This is why I wouldn't recommend it. But hey! If nobody finds out you're my apprentice, you're all good. See?"

"I see. And I do think it's a rather good choice. Such a gentleman he is! A gallant gentleman."

"Besides, you two go together like green and violet in my opinion."

"I don't know, but I think so, too."

"Well, shouldn't we be working on your calculation methods, you turtle dove?"

" Of course! I gotta master calculating the lengths of curves."

"Right-o! Let's get crunching some numbers."

And before I knew it, I was calculating the lengths of some curves in the design for a new row of flowers in the garden of the Great Gatsby. Celestine had already drawn the plans... A lot can happen when someone is gone, alright!

But while I was busy at calculating the surface area of a zone framed in between two parts of an intricate and beautiful arabesque, the telephone started ringing in the third room on the left. Celestine went to answer and I, after her. She picked it up and said:

"Clara, it's the Bluejay. He wants to speak to you."

"I'm fine with it. Give me the transceiver. I'll speak to him."

And she put the white transceiver in my hand, going behind the redwood door of the room. I was alone with him again. But this time, indirectly. At the other end of the line, he asked:

"Is this miss Willows now?"

"Yes, it is?", I shyly said.

"Are you asking me or telling me? Because if you're asking me, I can't tell. And if you're telling me, I can't believe it's really you."

"I'm telling you."

"Then, I'm more than happy. Listen, you made really good company yesterday. I want to see you again. Do you mind?"

"I don't mind at all. In fact, I'd love to. When do you want to meet?"

"How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow would be just fine. What time?"

"Whatever time suits you. Anytime in the afternoon, just wait by the pier like you did yesterday and I'll be there."

"Fine. See you tomorrow, old sport!"

"See you tomorrow, milady."

And I didn't know what to expect, so I just sulked in my room until tomorrow came.

Because I knew tomorrow I would be seeing the one I love again. And I'd never felt that way before, never in my entire life.


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