Lucien sighed because even though only a few months had passed, he knew that meeting Ona Zelle had been a major shift in his life.  And he couldn’t bring himself to wash his cloak.  He was staring at it now; much like he'd done in the past.  His mind was on Ona, when his sister, Chantel walked into the room, catching him daydreaming.  This had not been a first occurrence for her and she also knew what he was doing.

"You're thinking about that Samaritan girl."

He turned ever so slightly; adjusting his gaze to see the cloak and the expression on Chantel’s face.  She was irritated by this preoccupation of his.

Chantel said...

"This is sick.  You're standing in your room, all alone, staring at a blood stained cloak.  An item that isn’t even worth the expense of dry cleaning.  You should trash that thing.  Or better yet--burn it, and be done with the memory."

"It's not that simple Chantel."

Chantel wasn’t a slacker.  If the rules didn’t work; she would change them.  In her mind, no problem was too big, and no solution was impossible.  There was no such thing as--I can’t get it done, or there are too many details to deal with.  Whatever she set her mind to; Chantel always came out on top--and once upon a time, so had Lucien.  But something had happened to him, at the beginning of the year.  Lucien had agonized over the accident, and he’d been brooding over the girl; and none of it made any sense to her.  Their lives were picture perfect and she expected him to snap out of it, and rejoin the rest of the world.  Chantel had been so curious about Ona Zelle, that she’d requested a picture of her.  At Lincoln Medical, identification photo’s were a part of the admission process.  When Chantel saw the bruised and broken Ona; even in her crippled state, the young woman exuded an inner and outer beauty.  She understood Lucien’s reasons for being transfixed by the Samaritan woman.  He couldn’t control his obsession, and she wished that he could.

Chantel lay it all out on the table.

“How long are you going to do this?  How long are you going to pine over a woman that you cannot have?”

Lucien crossed the room, leaving his bedroom area.  He walked back into the sitting area, where his sister had come in.  Note to self; change the locks or never forget to lock the doors.

He walked over to the kitchenette, then withdrew a bottled water from the refrigerator.

"Lucien...

Chantel pressed, because there were other issues to consider.  It was late, and her husband Clive had already retired to their quarters.  She didn’t want him falling asleep only to be awaken after she’d joined him in their bed.

“Lucien--we’ve all noticed your strange preoccupation with this girl; but I’m the only one brave enough to confront the issue.”

“This Isn’t your concern Chantel.  Go.  Go be with your husband.”

“And what is going to happen when I’m gone.  Will you spend the night, staring at that damn cloak?”

He would, but he wasn’t going to tell his sister that.

Lucien said...

“I’m going to see her again.  I’m going to take a chance--even if I’m shot down.”

“Why are you chasing after girl that you cannot have?  A girl, who more than likely is already engaged to another man.”

He wouldn’t respond to that.  Telling Chantel that Ona was not engaged would be sinking his ship before it set-sail.

“I’m in love Chantel.”

“Oh bullshit.  You are in guilt--and I don’t know why.  Just because she was hit by a Delors employee, that doesn’t give her the authority to lay the blame on you.”

“She doesn’t blame me.”

“Good because she shouldn’t.”

Now that he’d been reduced to the truth, Chantel said...

“Lucien--I don’t want to see you get hurt.  If you’re persuaded to believe that you are ready to settle down, then choose a woman with less luggage.  Someone like Marisela.”

“Chantel...” He said warningly.  “I’ve told you--I am not interested in your friend.”

“How would you know, unless you give her a chance, and spend a little quality time with her.”

“Chantel--please.  Not now.  I have a great deal on my mind.”

“So does Marisela.  Do you know that she is still mourning the loss of her brother?  I’ll bet you don’t even know, that her family’s private investigator got his hands on the police files and the medical examiners report.  According to Marisela--their team of scientist and investigators aren’t buying the suicide angle.  They think that Tollin was murdered.”

“Murdered?”  he said surprised.

“Yes.  And typically in situations like this, every detail of the victims life is paraded in the open, bringing judgement on the dead and the family members left behind.”

Lucien said...

“I’m very sad to hear that.  I’m sure this is difficult on Tollin’s parents.”

“Yes--it is.  And it’s also difficult on Marisela.  Lucien--if you’d talk to her, or take her out to dinner; your attention could make all the difference in the world.  She’s depressed Lucien--and the only time she smiles, is when your name is mentioned.”

Lucien couldn’t be bothered by this.  He abruptly said...

“Chantel--did you hear me when I said that, I am in love?”

“Yes--and did you hear me when I said, that Ona Zelle is off limits.  Lucien you would be crazy to waste your time on a woman you’ll never have to yourself.  Maybe not even as a friend.”

“Then call me crazy--because I will make every effort to be with her.”

“And what about Marisela?  What am I supposed to tell her.”

“Tell her whatever you want--as long as you aren’t involving me.”

“Lucien...”  Chantel tried to make her point but Lucien interrupted her.

“Go Chantel.  Go and leave me to my thoughts.  I don’t want to discuss this matter any further.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“Fine--if that’s what you want to believe.  I can’t explain it--and it isn’t rational but I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“You don’t know anything about that woman.  If you do this, people will think that you’ve gone mad.”

“Look at me Chantel.  Do I look crazy to you?”

She was quiet, and he felt the need to remind her about her past.

Lucien said...

“And what about you and Clive.  Remember what your friends said when you broke off your engagement to Drake, then took up with Clive, flying off to the South of France.”

Clive and Chantel were complete opposites, yet their three year marriage couldn’t have appeared stronger.  In spite of his remark, she didn’t come to his room to talk about her past.  Chantel said...

“You’re going to pursue this woman, regardless of what I say.  You aren’t going to listen to anyone, are you.”

Lucien responded...

“When have you ever known me to be illogical?”

She thought about that for a moment, because she wanted to give a true and honest answer.  After less than a minute, she replied.

“Never.  I’ve never known you to be illogical.  You’re very serious; especially as it involves others.”

Lucien didn’t say another word, he looked at the entrance to his bedroom.  The place where he’d kept his blood stained cloak.  He said...

“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression because as I stand here, I don’t have all the answers and in the end, I just might make an ass of myself.”

He took a breath, then finished his thought.

“But...I believe in destiny.  I believe in being at the right place at the right time; and on New Year’s Day, I was in the right place.  When I got involved, my interference mattered.”

Lucien’s eyes became pleading when he said...

“I know this doesn’t make any sense--and I’d be the first to admit that but--there is something about Ona that I can’t get out of my head.  I’ve got to see her again, and I’m sure that her brothers won’t make that easy.”

“I hate this.  I hate seeing you like this.”