Loose ends Joy and Sorrow chapter 17

Celeste stood in the back row.Brow furrowed,arms folded across her chest.She need a cigarette break in order to dispel the pensive feelings in her gut.Models with identical faces and elastic smiles awaited their cue to file down the runway to generic techno music.

This was Celeste's gift to the Crescant City.It tore hole in her heart,witnessing Katrina bringing forth all manners of atrocities on the denizens of New Orleans. Celeste had balled her fists in anger,when the morons on talk radio yammered on idiotically about how New Orleans was recieving its just desserts.

She had a mind to round up these lunatics from whatever basement they recorded in, and proceed to have a serious talk with them.After listening a while longer,it was apparent these clowns were too far gone to retain logic. After a lengthy nap,Celeste cooked up a plan to utilize her fashion line to aid the city care forgot.

Fourteen Benefit luncheons were to be held in twelve major cities and two in Canada.Venues housing said evenst sat no less than three hundred.Tickets were one hundred fifty per person. Celeste's financial advisor Pippa, a grim faced platinum blonde in her her mid- twenties,cited this move as suicidal.

Celebrities put out lackluster fashion lines that flopped daily.How would this one be differant? It wasn't as if Celeste was flying blind.She minored in design at Tulane University and worked as a seamstress at a bridal store in her salad days.When the movie business had dry spells:she created formal gowns for extra cash.

She had sketched and designed many of the outfits,based on what researchers had gleaed from potential buyers.The P.R. Firm was tying up other loose ends.Tickets were selling at a fairly brisk pace.Pippa remained cynical. The Master of Ceremonies announced the first item of clothing, a blue and white gingham sundress.

It was a flirty number loosely based on a beloved maxi dress Celeste had worn most of the seventies.Like clockwork,a second model sashayed out in a bodysuit covered with geometric shapes and red velvet ballerina slippers. By the time the third model pranced out in navy cigarette pants and a lacy tank adorned with hand sewn roses,the crowd was clapping enthusiastically.

This quelled her fear of failure.Another worry took its place.The seat of her old comrade,Soledad Marquesa,remained empty.Soledad had planned on being at The L.A. viewing. She was not the sort of person that was ever late.Celeste's cell phone battery was dead,so she had an assistant call the home on her blackberry.It rang off the hook several times.

 ''Maybe traffic is backed up,''the spikey haired assistant nodded sympathetically. ''

She would have called, something is not quite right,'' Celeste sighed. The second everything wrapped up here,Celeste to rushover her friend's house and scope out the situation.Celeste finaly exited the fashion show.Leah the spiky haired assistant helped her sneak out the side entrance.A car was idling raring to go at the ready.

 Leah volunteered to check Soledad's resdience as well.Celeste waved her off:the girl had done plenty.Besides,this was a matter best tended to personally. At the house,Celeste rang the doorbell five times,anxiously watching the stained glass door for signs of life.She need an individual to add a single shred of clarity to the situation.A middle aged woman in scrubs opened the door.

'' Sorry,Sorry,Sorry, it's been a horrible day, Madam,'' The woman apologized. '' By the way , I'm Marta , the maid,'' the woman offered,limply shaking Celeste's hand. '' Ms. Marquesa was rushed to the hospital.One minute she fine, a snap second later,poor woman couldn't string a single sentence together.'' Marta was sobbing now.

'' Good grief,'' Celeste whispered,covering her mouth. '' You should bring this to the hospital.The missus is forever grousing about the cold,no matter how warm it is, '' Marta nodded, regaining composure. Celeste arrived at the hospital,where a small cluster of folks were present,impatiently awaiting word on Soledad's condition.

Mona,Soledad's childhood friend, was present at least in the physical sense.Decked out out in fake eyelashes and diamonds, a Blackberry glued to her ear, as she paced the floor.

'' Where have you been? Your cell rang off the hook,'' Her drawn on eyebrows arched in irritation.

'' Cell phone battery died,'' Celeste muttered.

She edged into chair,already exhausted.Forty minutes later, a Pakistani physican  with droopy eyelids pokes his into cramped waiting room.

Without so much of a introduction he begins speaking in hushed tones.

'' We think the patient may have experienced a ischemic stroke. We must run a battery tests to be sure,'' he said.

No sooner had the good doctor finished his spiel, he disappeared and Soledad's husband,Doyle stood in the corner, six foot three and two hundred fifty pounds of pure mess.The mountian of a man was close to tears.Celeste could relate from her own life circumstances.

'' Tobacco break ? '' Celeste asked.

'' Sounds like a plan,'' Doyle said gratefully with a sigh.

Hopitals frown upon smoking on the premises nowadays, so the two took shelter in Celeste's Prius. Jone Prine was crooning over the stereo.They slouched down a bit in the seats,just in case an overzealous secuirty guard took issue with the two smoking out here.

Doyle's paws took hold of a filthy styrofoam cup that seen betters .He rummaged throught the pockets of acid washed jeans and stuffed a wad of chew in his cheek.

''This morning ,before all the madness happened,we were hanging a painting up,''Doyle said, spitting chew into his cup.

'' She was handing me nails and tellling me if it should be lower or higher.We were joking around a good deal too,'' he continued.

Celeste nooded sympathetically.

'' Her words sounded misconstrued.I whirled around to check on the old girl.Her face had gone ashy and she was hanging onto the davenport like a rag doll,'' he sighed spitting with relish.

Doyle retrieded a handkerchief from his pant pocket , and blew his nose into t.

''Pretty shocking,Soledad having a stroke.She eats healthier than I do,Celeste said.

'' I should pick out a gift for her. I am terrible in the gift giving department in my best mental state,''Doyle said.

'' For sure,'' was Celeste's reply.

In the hospital gift shop,they passed piles of stuffed animals and cheesy get well cards.She spied a few overpriced roses in glass vases.They smelled like antseptic cleaner and looked half dead.She decided to pick up something tasteful on the way over here tommorrow.Doyle strolled up next to Celeste, clutching a betty boop figurine.

''Yes or no.'' Doyle mouths to her,looking truly lost.

'' Perfect, '' Celeste mouths back, winkng.

Back in the waiting area, Dr.Phil blares in the backround.Mona has fallen asleep legs curled underneath her on a drab grey sofa.Blue -caked eyelids shut tight,her boxy pantsuit had gotten quite wrinkly in the course of her siesta.

'' You may come back now,'' a nurse with a hard fae and kind eyes said, pointing in Doyle's direction.

'' Can you accompany me? Doyle pleads. '' not trying to be a wimp,but I can't see my wife all by my lonesome.''

Celeste nods her answer.She had been through this many times over.Visiting ill relatives is not a feat one should go through solo.

In the hospital room, it was bizarre seeing Soledad and not hearing her booming voice say '' Hello Friend !''

Even her aviator sunglasses and danngly gold hoops had been removed.The wild polyester blouses and apple bottom jeans had been replaced by a hospital smock.

She looked like a wizened pixie lying so still,tiny barbie doll feet poking out of the thin hospital blanket.

'' I am checking to see if I can get Soledad's sunglasses back,'' Doyle said in a loud whisper. She will take it as a sacriledge if the sunglasses aren't atop the bridge of her npse,'' The big man was struggling not to cry.

After a few moments,Celeste arranges the hot pink afghan gently gently on her friend and walks soundlessly out of the room.