Déjà Vu (Michael and Madeline)

[Madeline Ezperanza-Colette]

A shake, a rattle, a break, fall and shatter; the orchestral chaos, at last, came to a jolting end as the young men trying to see and vying for Madeline's attention stumbled and ran off, leaving her with their mess. As always. "Putian!" She tutts at the tip of her tongue so quietly it likely went unheard by the potential customers who surround her. She's quick to excuse herself from the one she was explaining a piece to with a charming smile he can not see past so he is none the wiser to her gratefulness that something has pulled her away from his not so subtle advances. In no time she has the glass from the storefront window in a small pile out of everyone's way with a yellow sign nearby it to keep people further away from it which reads "slippery when wet" though the floor is perfectly dry. 

I hustle to sweep up the shards of glass, I swear when I fix this window next it will be plexiglass and oh what joyous laughter will I loose when those peeping pals find the glass will not break. I catch myself smiling at my thoughts as I safely discard the glass and remove the caution sign from view. I return to my spot behind the register as opposed to the man whom I spoke with because I knew what he truly wanted and I had work to do. I begin to type and file out the paperwork of the latest biggest transactions when I hear the front bell cling wildly, I do not need to look from my screen to know who it is, but I do and I welcome them with a genuine smile and laugh at their festive croons. I greet them with hugs and ask them about their school day before I scurry them to the back so they can begin their homework in the sun in the back lounge. My smile fades to the generic charming one as the man approaches me as I approach the register once again. 

"I am not sure which one I want to buy..." He tries to start a conversation "The second one." She says with a chuckle in her throat not looking his way for the moment. The silence that follows makes her chuckle faintly again as she, at last, looks him in the eyes. "Second time's the charm. If you had truly fallen in love with the first painting. You would not now be questioning yourself over the second." Her native Creole accent coats her words fondly as another charming smile dashes across her face only to never reach her eyes and before he even speaks again she knows where this conversation is headed, the look in his eyes told her as much. She isn't arrogant that is not what this is, nor is that an adjective used to describe her. It is just Déjà Vu where every day the same conversations are had with the same men although their faces change with the passing sun. Oh, but she is quick and clever and her silver tongue wraps her rejection in a blanket of fluff and cream so sweet the aftertaste is somehow less bitter than most, and before you know it this man is out the door with not even a name to call her by. 

Not counting the children in the back, I am not alone yet, though during open hours there are always some nuisance new faces in the art store lurking about. This one breaks the Matrix curiously, as his interest does seem to purely be on the art about and not me. I relax only slightly at this revelation and allow myself to focus for a moment on some rather important paperwork I need to write up. My phone buzzes after a few minutes and we are shortly joined by my brother Brandon who complains about how this is the fifth broken window this week. "And to think it is only Wednesday..." I sigh with a sour laugh tucked at the back of my throat and before the word "plexiglass" shoots out of both of our mouths in sync. 'I'm on it.' He groans as he heads out. "If you are looking for a spot to read, write or draw the lounge out back is open to all." I finally address this newcomer in the store and let my aquamarine gaze, which swirls lightly with death's favourite shade of grey, land on him. I offer him a smile and point to the book in his hands to give some context to my words. "Of course, you can continue to study the art though; was just letting you know it was an option, Monsieur."