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PARIS, 1963
“My god, Georges! A child? An infant? You expect me to take on a child when I won’t even have a dog!”
Georges sat back and watched as his lover flew about their flat. High heels clicked on parquet. Were muted on the carpets. The silk Hermes scarf being waved about, wafted the heady scent of Chanel through warm air redolent of exhausting rehearsal.
After a few minutes, when it seemed there was no sign of the rant ending, Georges got up from his chair. He walked carefully past his lover and went to pour two glasses of white wine. Taking a sip of his own, he held out the second.
“Georges, I can’t. I, I won’t. I will not give up the stage!”
Albin took the offered wineglass and took an uncouthly large gulp from it. Then sighing dramatically, he dropped onto the sofa. “Zaza would never give up her career for children.”
“My darling, you know I would never ask you to do that,” Georges said quietly as he knelt and took one of Albin’s feet in his hands. He slipped off the pale pink stiletto-heel shoe and gently rubbed the newly-revealed toes.
“Oooh, Georgie! Never stop! You know a dancer’s tootsies…”
“Are her best friend, Albie. Yes, I know.” Georges continued to massage his lover’s feet. “Now, I want you to listen to me, darling.”
Albin sat straighter and pulled Georges up to sit beside him. “Very well. I shall listen.”
“Good,” the bigger man said with a smile as he put an arm around his lover and kissed his cheek. “Albin, I’ve thought about this since Sybil -- yes, I know you never liked her -- called me this morning.
“She’s having my child. My child, Albin! I never dreamed I’d have one. I suppose that’s why I never realized how much I would love it even before it’s born. My son. Or daughter.” Georges grinned at Albin. “Think, Albie, a little girl to dress up in lacy pink frocks. White patent leather shoes and ruffled bonnets!”
“And what if it’s a boy?”
“I doubt he’ll notice anything until he’s four or five,” Georges said with a straight face.
“Georgie! You are so bad!” Albin laughed and held out his wineglass for a refill. “Still…”
“It will work out perfectly, darling, you’ll see. I have plans. Big plans, Albin.” Georges went to fetch the wine, but stood gesturing with the bottle as he went on. “I don’t want you working for that bastard at La Lune Bleue any more!”
“But Georgie!”
“And I don’t want us living in this tiny flat anymore!”
“But Georgie!”
“And I want us to make a new start, Albie! Out of the cabarets in Paris. Out of Paris completely!”
There was absolute silence from a shocked Albie. “And what about Zaza?” he finally whispered.
“That will be the best of all, darling! I talked to Balcer today. There’s a club in Saint-Tropez. Grand location! And yes, it needs some work. But it has an enormous flat for us to live in. And one you can decorate as you like.
“And the best, Albie? The best? The cabaret headliner? Will be Zaza!”
　
SAINT-TROPEZ, TWO MONTHS LATER
Monsieur and Madame Renaud, owners of the Promenade Café had become fast friends with the two divine young men (as she called Georges and Albin) almost from the first time they visited the café. Madame Renaud, Marie, a bustling older woman was a lover of fine things. She visited the cabaret or their apartment on a daily basis. It was a surprise when she didn’t bring them pastries from the café.
On this particular day she had stopped by to bring them fresh croissants. When the delivery men came in with the furniture for the nursery, she looked askance at her friend.
“Albin. What is all this?”
“Marie,” the blushing young man replied, “we haven’t told anyone yet. Except Georges’ father, of course. We’re having a baby!”
Albin continued talking about the coming event while directing the setting up of the furniture. He wasn’t paying attention to Marie’s reaction at all.
“…And, well, the old man never thought that he would have a grandchild. Ever since, he has been very generous to Georges.” Albin stopped and laughed. “Georges offered him half-ownership in La Cage for a loan. But he gave him the money free and clear.
“For that, I would almost kiss the old so-and-so.” Albin turned, chuckling, to find Marie staring at him in shock.
“What is it, Marie?”
“Georges and you? A baby?”
“Well, not really me, no.” Albin gave her a muted smile, and sighed. “You see, we were fighting, and Georges… Well, he was very drunk, and like any man, he is susceptible to…suggestion… Now she is a little bit enceinte
“And so, we’re going to have a baby.”
Albin shrugged and turned away to reach out a hand and rock the cradle with its yards and yards of white eyelet. “I never thought I would be so happy about something like this. But, I am. I am,” Albin smiled and went over to hug the still-stunned older woman.
“Madam Marie, have you decided to steal Albin away from me?” Georges asked as he came in from the cabaret. He went to kiss the woman as he always did. Instead of a kiss, though, he received a resounding slap.
“That is for Albin. Shame on you Georges.” Then the woman kissed him on the unblemished cheek. She smiled, and chuckled.
“Just like a man, indeed! And now I hear there is to be a little one! I am so excited for you both.” Marie waved to the pair, and let herself out of the flat
“Albie, you realize, everyone in Saint-Tropez will know all about our affairs now?” Georges asked rhetorically. He poured himself a café au lait and took a croissant over to the little wrought iron table on the apartment balcony.
Albin followed him out and sat across the table from him. “They delivered the nursery furniture today. Marie came in while they were here. I didn’t just -- tell her.” He reached over and helped himself to both croissant and coffee.
“Ah.” There had been a tone in Albin’s voice that warned Georges not to pursue anything more about Marie.
Instead, Georges got up and went to Albin and pulled him up beside him. “Well, I have good news, my darling. The work is done on the cabaret. It can be decorated, and you and the ’girls’ can start rehearsing properly.
“In just a few weeks, La Cage aux Folles will be ready to open!”
“Georgie.“ Albin threw his arms about his lover’s neck. “Oh, that’s wonderful news!”
And there, in full sight of the residents of Saint-Tropez, the lovers passionately kissed. It was the sealing of a relationship that would last a lifetime.
End
11-28-09
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.