|
Post by Jenny on Mar 9, 2008 8:27:23 GMT -5
'I'm so sorry!' she sobbed into his shoulder, soaking his shirt sleeve with her tears. Jerome felt something twist inside what felt like his heart in utter, total guilt. What had she really done? She had said something she hadn't meant to--and didn't everyone do that, all the time? His arm tightened around her waist protectively. 'I never meant to upset you, Jerome! That was the last thing I wanted, it's just whenever I think about Emma being like him I get so upset I can't help but--'
'Shhh,' Jerome interrupted, and he felt his own tears returning once again. He forced hismelf to swallow them down, and once again be the strong one of the two of them.
' I'm sorry, darling,' he whispered into her hair, and he felt her start to calm down in his arms. It was only then that they both stood, and started to dry their tears and get back to some state of half-normality.
'Let's not tell Emma about this,' Esmé sniffed. 'She doesn't need to know about it. You know how she gets upset when we argue.'
As Jerome was about to agree to that statement, a cough from the doorway alerted them to the presence of Carmelita, who was smiling to herself.
'I see you're fine now,' she chuckled, nodding at her adoptive parents who a second ago had been fighting and hadn't wanted to say a word to the other.
|
|
|
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Mar 9, 2008 11:32:29 GMT -5
[*Jerome voice* I knew it! I knew your post would be just fine. ] “Yes, Carmy,” Esmé replied with a slight sniffle as she rested her head on Jerome’s shoulder. “Everything’s all right now. You don’t have to worry anymore.” “Would you mind terribly if I returned to work?” Carmelita asked. “Not at all, darling. Go on.” Carmelita nodded and was about to slip out the door when she stopped. “I’ll tell you what: how would you, Violet, and Klaus like to come to Café Salmonella for lunch? It’s our least busy hour and the crowds don’t usually start bustling in until six-thirty or seven in the evening. We’ll have complete privacy.” She paused. “I was also thinking it’ll give us a chance to talk about the trial… that’s only a few weeks away now, isn’t it?” Jerome met Carmelita’s eyes briefly before turning back to Esmé. “Yes,” he agreed. “Esmé, what would you like to do?” Esmé thought back to the morning of Fernald’s attack on her, right before the incident had occurred. Carmelita had done her best to apologize to Violet and Klaus, but for some reason (whether it was their own stubbornness or their belief that Carmelita hadn’t changed at all) they would hear none of it. Turning to her adopted daughter, Esmé asked, “You’re sure you want to do this, Carmelita?” She nodded. “Well, all right, then,” Esmé said. “Just give me a few minutes to wash my face, and then we can go.” “Meanwhile, I’ll go fetch Violet and Klaus,” Jerome said. He wasn’t sure what the two eldest Baudelaires’ opinion would be of dining at the same restaurant they had halfway through the series of unfortunate events that had shaped half of their lives, and with a former enemy at that. Whatever their reaction would be, Jerome could only hope that he wouldn’t find himself volunteering for yet another argument.
|
|
|
Post by Jenny on Mar 9, 2008 15:17:19 GMT -5
He found the elder Baudelaire's quietly conversing in the very study in which the argument had first taken place between Jerome and Esmé.
He knocked on the door, forcing himself not to overheard even a word of their conversation, and the conversations instantly stopped.
'Jerome?' Violet asked as he entered. 'Is everything alright?'
Klaus was looking utterly bewildered--he had been oddly left out of the events, and it was plain that Violet had been filling him in on what she knew just as Jerome had entered. His eyes focused on the floor, as if he were attempting to imagine something he hadn't seen and he couldn't yet quite believe it had ever happened, no matter what his sister was telling him.
'I was thinking,' Jerome began, when it had been Carmelita's idea all along. 'That we could go out for lunch. All together--just to get things all back to normal before Emma, Sunny and Beatrice come back.' When no-one said anything, he coughed. 'To sort out any awkwardness,' he clarified, and it was Violet's turn to look down at the floor. 'And maybe discuss Mr Widdershins' trial. We haven't yet spoken much about it, and I suppose we need to if things are going to work out the way we hope.'
Klaus was always intelligent, and he could tell just by the lines on Jerome Squalor's forehead and the slight sharpness to his voice that all he wanted was another, more solid guarantee that things had been patched up between his wife and the Baudelaire's before they ended up anywhere near the courtroom. Klaus didn't blame him. If any of them slipped a word in about Esmé's past things could change dramatically in a way that, ultimately, wasn't beneficial to any of them--the Baudelaire's would be out of the penthouse immediately, and four lives of Jerome Esmé, Carmelita and Emma would be instantly altered for the worse.
'We've been invited to Café Salmonella,' he said, and Violet jerked, Klaus's eyes darting up. 'It's not all salmon in there anymore. And I know you two aren't keen on the restaurant--' what an understatement. '--but I thought it would be polite that we all go, now that the offer has been made.'
Violet nodded an agreement before Klaus had any say. 'Of course,' she said quietly, then licked her lips awkwardly. 'Are you feeling better?'
Jerome grinned. 'Very much so, Violet.' As his sister blushed Klaus couldn't contain a little chuckle. 'As is Esmé. Thank you for asking.'
|
|
|
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Mar 9, 2008 16:36:38 GMT -5
Violet smiled back, the blush in her cheeks evident. “You’re welcome,” she said. --- Esmé and Carmelita were sitting on the loveseat by the front door when Jerome appeared before them with the two Baudelaires. Other than washing her face, Esmé had also reapplied a fresh coat of makeup. She was smiling sweetly up at him, and he held out his hand for her to take. She accepted it without hesitation, and together with the Baudelaires and Carmelita, they left the penthouse and headed across the hallway to the elevators. On the way down to the lobby, both Carmelita and the Baudelaires closely observed the way Esmé had not let go of her husband’s hand since he had offered it to her back in the apartment. The eyes of Violet and Klaus met, and along with their gaze they also shared a significant thought as they recalled that unforgettable day on the beach when Count Olaf had kissed Kit Snicket on the mouth right before death claimed them. It was a memory that had been embedded permanently in the memory of the two eldest Baudelaires for the sole reason of its impact. Until that moment, they would never have believed that someone as notorious as Count Olaf could feel anything but greed and the determination to do whatever he had to in order to get what he wanted. Now, like that unforgettable day on the beach, the Baudelaires were once more facing yet another series of events. Although the one that had reunited them with Esmé and Jerome Squalor had been most unfortunate, what followed had proven to be less so. In her efforts to prove to Violet, Klaus, and Sunny that she was indeed a changed woman, Esmé had also proven that she indeed possessed a real human heart. It was evident in the way she had reacted to Emma uncovering the truth of the person her father had been that Esmé truly cared for both her daughter and her well-being. It was also evident, in the way she laced her fingers through her husband’s and how she rested her head on his shoulder that she loved him in the same way Olaf had loved Kit. Hopefully, the outcome of the trial would ensure the future of Esmé and Jerome Squalor. The elevator doors slid open and everyone stepped out, making their way through the lobby and out the front doors to the parking lot. Carmelita bade the Squalors and the Baudelaires goodbye, promising to have a table ready for them by the time they arrived at Café Salmonella. After piling everyone into his Mercedes Benz, Jerome started up the engine and they were off.
|
|
|
Post by Jenny on Mar 9, 2008 16:55:52 GMT -5
Carmelita was true to her word, or at least she attempted to be.
She had hardly expected that her fiancé (who was on good terms with none of the people who would be dining with her, except perhaps Jerome) would decide to appear, with a fresh bouquet of flowers for her and an unusual smile on his face.
'What are you doing here?' she enquired, trying not to give away any of her shock, and graciously accepting the roses (she did like them, but where in their apartment could she put them? They didn't really have enough windowsills for the flowers he purchased).
'I thought I'd take the afternoon off, dear,' he replied, and kissed her (right there, in front of the customers--she still had one or two tables taken by this point. She thought that was a little embarrassing, but couldn't help but smile at it all the same.)
'The Baudelaire's and my parents are having lunch with me,' she blurted, eventually. She never did learn to keep secrets. 'Will you join us?'
She pretended not to notice the way he had actually physically paled at the prospect, and he attempted to smile through obvious discomfort. 'If it means a lot to you, darling, then--'
'It does,'
Nero forced himself not to sigh. 'I suppose there's really no way for me to get out of this now, is there?'
'Nero!'
He chuckled, and just as he made hismelf at home at one of the large tables near to the window the Baudelaire's and the Squalor's appeared, Jerome and Esmé still holding hands as they had been in the building and the elder Baudelaire's looking as if they had just emerged from a very uncomfortable few minutes in Jerome's expensive car.
|
|
|
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Mar 9, 2008 17:59:05 GMT -5
Setting her roses aside behind the counter and scooping up an armful of pink menus shaped like salmon from a pile there, Carmelita dashed across the restaurant and over to the front doors to greet her customers. “Well, that was fast,” she said, seeing no reason to greet them with her usual “Welcome to Café Salmonella. I’m Carmelita and I’ll be your waitress.”
Violet swallowed hard and bit her bottom lip. Even so, she made every effort to be polite as she lifted her head and smiled as pleasantly as she could at Carmelita, with whom she had given no more than a few scornful glances. As the redheaded woman smiled at her, Violet felt a guilty feeling arise in the pit of her stomach. For the first time since their reunion, she began to realize that the opinion she and her siblings had formed of Carmelita Spats more than ten years ago should no longer matter. In spite of how terribly she had treated them, it was nothing compared to the things Olaf had done. And besides, if the Baudelaires could forgive Esmé, then they should certainly be able to forgive Carmelita.
“Hello, Carmelita,” Violet said. “Thank you very much for your invitation. You have a very nice restaurant.”
Carmelita smiled back. “Thank you,” she replied. “I’m so glad you could all make it.”
She didn’t add that she desperately wanted to patch up things between herself, Nero, and the Baudelaires. Her fiancée had told her of the uncomfortable encounter he’d had with Violet and Klaus the other day at the Veritable French Diner, and she wanted to do all she could to put things right between everyone.
Turning to Klaus, Carmelita said, “Hello, Klaus. How are you?”
“I’m quite well, thank you,” he replied quickly without bothering to meet Carmelita’s eyes as Violet had done. His sister nudged him, and he made an effort. “And yourself?”
Carmelita smiled, shrugging her shoulders awkwardly and throwing the pile of menus against her lap in the process. “Oh, you know. I can’t complain.” She paused, scanning her eyes around the restaurant for a moment. “Here, follow me, and I’ll show you to your table.”
As she led them towards the back, she shoved herself in between her parents and whispered in a voice she was sure neither of the Baudelaires would be able to hear: “I’m going to warn you both right now that Nero is here, so please, please, please! I’m begging you! Let’s all have a nice, quiet lunch and refrain from repeating the unfortunate incident at the Veritable French Diner.”
|
|
|
Post by Jenny on Mar 10, 2008 15:20:20 GMT -5
Esmé's mouth dropped open at that revelation, and it looked as if she might have been about to say someting about it, but Jerome held up a hand, and patted her shoulder. She didn't dare cause a scene, not after all the trouble that had happened so recently.
Nero looked up and smiled as the guests caught sight of him all at one, though with doubtful sincerity. He felt sorry for the Baudelaire's, yes, but that didn't mean he regretted his actions particularly. He daren't say that to Carmelita, though--not after how much her opinion on them had obviously changed since she was a child.
Klaus all but rolled his eyes, but Violet attempted a greeting.
'Afternoon,' she said politely, and sat down beside her brother opposite Nero, leaving the three seats around them free for Esmé, Jerome and Carmelita.
'Good afternoon,' he replied, running his slug-tie through his fingers nervously. Not only were his fiancée's parents there, making him anxious and wary of his mistakes, but now they were accompanied by the elder Baudelaire's who obviously still disliked him.
What a lunch this was going to be.
|
|
|
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Mar 10, 2008 16:27:31 GMT -5
Once everyone had settled down into their seats, Carmelita handed everyone a menu. “Order whatever you’d like,” she said. “It’s on the house. In the meantime, I’ll just go fetch you all some water.”
Nero lifted his finger and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. He hated the idea of his fiancée leaving him at a table with three out of four people who couldn’t stand him, but what could he do?
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Carmelita promised, and walked off in the direction of the kitchen.
Nero watched her disappear through the two double doors and then turned back to the Squalors and the Baudelaires. Forcing a rather strained smile, he turned to Esmé and asked, “So, Mrs. Squalor. How are you feeling?”
“Much better,” Esmé replied, the smile on her face as tense as that of her future son-in-law. “Thank you for asking.”
Underneath the table, Jerome patted her hand gently where it was resting on her knee. He knew that Nero was the last person Esmé would want to dine with had she known he would be sitting there when they had arrived. But it filled Jerome with such pride to see her making an effort to be tolerable and polite, and he smiled at her.
|
|
|
Post by Jenny on Mar 11, 2008 14:31:11 GMT -5
Carmelita returned, somehow managing to balance six glasses of water one one tray without spilling a drop. Violet supposed that sort of skill came from waitressing for a long time.
It was noticeable when Carmelita sat down beside her fiancé, and gently touched his arm in an affectionate manner, that they really did care for each other--even if Violet did feel that even carmelita was a little too good for Nero.
'So,' the eldest Baudelaire said, interrrupting the silence, and having trouble not feeling a little left out surrounded by two couples and a brother who was also married (if slightly estranged).'Have you two set a date for the wedding?'
Esmé nearly choked on the chilled water Carmelita had given her. This had always been a sensitive issue--and one on which neither of the parties could ever decide. Nero had wanted a wedding in October--which everyone else thought would be terribly cold and miserable--and Carmelita had wanted it in August, where the others thought that would be too hot, too humid. Esmé had quietly been sneaking in with 'June', the month in which her wedding had taken place, and Jerome had thought April would be the most suitable.
Nero simply sighed.
'I'm afraid not,' he said quickly, and then inwardly he smiled. 'What month would you get married in, if it was your choice?'
Klaus cleared his throat. 'I suppose since my wedding was in September, and the weather was delightful, I'd have to say September.'
Violet shrugged, and wished she had a bit more of a clue. 'February?' she said, unsure. 'Near to Valentine's Day.'
'....Or in June.'
'Esmé, haven't we already--'
'I was happier with 'Mrs Squalor', Nero...'
Carmelita 'accidentally' knocked over her glass of water, glaring all the while at Nero and her adoptive mother for their stupidity. Klaus and Violet exchanged a look, and smiled. It was good sometimes to know other families had as many problems as yours.
|
|
|
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Mar 11, 2008 15:32:17 GMT -5
“I’m so sorry about that,” Carmelita said. “Will you excuse me a moment, while I go get something to clean this up with?” She was off in a hurry, not feeling the least bit guilty for leaving her mother and her fiancée to sort things out amongst themselves. Carmelita only hoped that it wouldn’t be a problem for everyone else around them.
That was when Jerome remembered the main reason Carmelita had invited them all to lunch in the first place. He wasn’t so sure the idea of discussing the trial would be the best way to make Nero feel welcome. Jerome could only imagine what his feelings on the idea of Carmelita being a part of all this must be making him feel. Then again, Fernald Widdershins was as much to blame for her involvement in the trial as he was for attacking Esmé.
Maybe they should wait until Carmelita returned.
Everyone took the time to read through their menus and pick out what they wanted to eat. Just as everyone had finished deciding, Carmelita returned, and not a moment too soon. Jerome had just caught Esmé and Nero locking their eyes together in a staring contest. Or at least that was what Jerome thought it might be. The way they were glaring at one another certainly gave off that impression.
“So, have you all decided what you’d like to order?” Carmelita asked as she began cleaning up her spilled water with a rag.
Everyone waited until she had finished before giving her their orders, once more watching as she disappeared through the two double doors leading to the kitchen.
Jerome swallowed hard in preparation for what he said next. “I spoke with Mr. McGuire last night on the phone,” he said. “He told me that the judge we’ll be going to see is someone we’ve all met before.” He paused. “Well, except for Nero.”
Violet looked up with interest. “Oh?” she asked.
Jerome nodded.
“Who is it?” Klaus asked.
Jerome smiled. “Justice Strauss,” he replied.
|
|
|
Post by Jenny on Mar 12, 2008 15:17:41 GMT -5
It was Esmé's head that swiveled the most, and she gasped, remembering her brief interactions in the past with Justice Strauss. Oh, God, the last thing she needed was a judge who had known her as a criminal while she was actively working with Olaf and wandering around wearing a lettuce leaf bikini.
'What?' Esmé demanded. 'Can we change it?'
'Why would we want to, dear?' Jerome asked, his brow furrowing. 'I'm acquainted with Justice Strauss.'
'So am I,' his wife hissed, trying to shield their conversation unsuccessfully from the other occupants of the restaurant. 'But not quite in the right way!'
'Oh, Esmé, don't be silly,' Jerome replied, but she was frowning and he didn't like the look of it. 'Anyone can see how drastically you've changed since then, not least Justice Strauss. She always was such a reasonable person.'
'And kind,' Violet offered helpfully.
'And understanding.' Klaus attempted.
'And one of Olaf's old neighbours.....'
Nero's comment wasn't in the least bit helpful, and Esmé felt like throwing her glass of water on him for that.
|
|
|
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Mar 12, 2008 16:04:32 GMT -5
“What about Emma?” Esmé asked quietly, and Nero and Klaus turned to look at her. “What’s going to happen to her if I—”
“You won’t,” Jerome said, and she felt his hand squeeze hers reassuringly. “Darling, trust me when I say that you have nothing to worry about. I promised I would do everything in my power to protect you, and I meant it.” To emphasize his point, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
Violet blushed, while Klaus and Nero looked down at their hands.
If it wasn’t for the fact that they were in public, Esmé would have cuddled up to her husband as she had a tendency to do whenever she was sad or frightened, and instead simply chose to express her gratitude by nodding her head at him. “I know,” she said.
At that moment, Nero cleared his throat. “Carmelita mentioned there was a possibility that she’ll be required to testify against Mr. Widdershins,” he said.
Still holding up his wife’s hand, Jerome turned to Nero. “Yes,” Jerome said. “That’s right. We discussed it with Mr. McGuire the other day, and he says it cannot be helped. Carmelita will have to testify, along with Esmé, Violet, Klaus, and myself.”
“Have either of you spoken to Carmelita about this yet?” Nero inquired.
“No,” Esmé and Jerome answered in unison.
“But we’re going to,” Esmé added. “We’ve got to. It is imperative if we expect to—”
“Here are your drinks,” Carmelita announced as she returned with yet another tray containing four glasses of whine.
|
|
|
Post by Jenny on Mar 14, 2008 18:37:39 GMT -5
Nero looked relieved at the prospect of alcohol to dim the conversations around him--perhaps, he considered, in a slightly inebriated state he would be more tolerant of his future mother-in-law.
Or perhaps not.
In any case, Nero and Esmé took hastier sips of the offered beverages than their respective fiancée's and husband's would have preferred, and the others around the table made a significant effort to ignore them, and the air of steady discomfort.
'Carmelita' Jerome began, soft voiced as ever, oping to introduce the topic himself before anyone else had the opportunity to ruin it. 'I spoke to Mr McGuire yesterday, and it seems for the good of the case your mother and I are going to need you to testify.'
Carmelita's azure eyes darted to her adoptive father's. She could barely voice how much she didn't want to appear in court over Fernald, especially with her and Esmé's history.
'Jerome,' she tried. 'I really don't think--'
'--Mr McGuire says it might harm the prosecution if you decide not to be involved,' Jerome's eyes were kind, and he tried not to frown at the small part of selfishness Carmelita had shown there.
Carmelita sighed, and rubbed her hand over her eyes. She couldn't very well decline--not now that she was obviosuly integral to the strength of the case. She smiled, blatantly false, and looked once to her adopted parents and then to the Baudelaire siblings.
Really, she realized, there was no choice in the matter for her to make.
'Well, then,' she said quietly. 'I'll testify.'
Jerome smiled, and he was sure his wife would have done the same had she not been looking down at her feet or into her wine glass at the time.
'Esmé?' Carmelita enquired, concerned as ever for her mother whenever the law was involved. 'Has everything....well, is everything--'
'Jerome assures me everything will go according to plan,' Esmé said, and only Jerome, at that point, had any faith that the statement might ring true.
As much as Mr McGuire had cost him, there is only a certain amount a lawyer can do for a retired arsonist.
|
|
|
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Mar 14, 2008 21:00:26 GMT -5
Giving his fiancée a reassuring smile, Nero placed his hand on Carmelita’s. She smiled back, and for a moment Violet was reminded of the short time she’d spent alone with Quigley Quagmire high atop Mount Fraught. It made her feel sad to recall this, as she and her siblings had not heard anything from any of the Quagmires since that time.
“Are you all right, Violet?” Klaus asked, taking notice of the somber expression on his sister’s face.
Violet nodded. “Yes,” she replied.
Deep inside, Esmé was trembling just as much as Violet, Quigley, and Klaus must have been that winter morning on the bottom of Mount Fraught twelve years earlier. If it hadn’t been for the fact that the Baudelaires and Nero were seated at the table with her then she would have broke down in tears right then and there.
Esmé thought about excusing herself to go to the restroom, but if she wasn’t back in five minutes then for sure either Carmelita or Violet would come after her. Besides, Esmé had already experienced one crying episode that day, and one was more than enough.
“Exactly what day is the trial to take place, Jerome?” Klaus asked.
“On the 24th,” he replied. “At nine o’ clock sharp, so we can’t afford to be late.”
Suddenly, a thought occurred to Esmé. “What about Emma?” she asked. “If the trial is made public— and something tells me there’s no point in asking such a question —then she is sure to suffer some consequences. The kids at school already tease her enough, so surely this will only—”
“Darling,” Jerome said. “Please. You can’t afford to get upset over this, or you’ll make yourself ill.”
Nodding in agreement, Esmé settled down. She knew her husband was right, but how could she afford not to get upset over something as significant as the trial of Fernald Widdershins?
|
|
|
Post by Jenny on Mar 23, 2008 12:08:30 GMT -5
'Surely there's something we can do to stop the trial becoming public,' Violet said quickly, sipping her drink politely and then leavig it virtually untouched in front of her. 'Perhaps we could arrange that the media can't report it.' 'I doubt it,' Jerome said quietly, but smiled all the same. His eyes stayed on his wife, who seemed to be deeply considering that proposition. 'Thank you for trying so hard to help us, Violet, but--' he swallowed, and drummed his fingers on the table. 'I'm sure we'll be just fine. It's nothing worse than we've dealt with before.' Klaus felt like pointing out how little Jerome had actually dealt with in comparison with himself and his sisters, but he swallowed his comments. After all, he wasn't really aware of how much Jerome, Esmé and Emma had been faced with since Esmé's return to the city. 'I don't suppose we can take out some sort of restraining order on Geraldine Julienne, can we?' Esmé asked. 'It's usually her and her articles that cause the trouble, after all.' 'I thought Geraldine Julienne was your biggest fan,' Klaus chuckled--well-meaning--and was dismayed to find everyone else around the table frown. This time he had purely been attempting to lighten the mood, and didn't quite understand what he had done to upset anyone. 'Hm, hardly,' Jerome half-chuckled. 'I think after Geraldine started up an affair with Jerome's--late--father, who was hardly fond of me as a daughter-in-law for obvious reasons, her opinions began to change.' Jerome visibly jerked, along with Carmelita. They hand't expected her to bring up Maxwell Squalor, and now that she had, they weren't sure at all how to explain their experiences. [I'm so sorry I've been too busy to post on this I'll try to make a good comeback on it. Sorry again. ]
|
|