The car ride relaxed her, and she leaned back, lulled by the country music playing on the radio.
"You okay, Bel?" Mark asked, glancing at her.
"Yes, thanks. Sorry to let you out at this hour..."
"I wouldn't have let you wander around alone, you know. And besides, it's nice to leave the house every now and then, especially when Bill's in such a bad mood..."
"Does he do that often?" she inquired.
"I'll tell you, since I've been working with him, it's only happened on tour. He's a nice guy, sometimes a little aloof, a great professional, I have to admit, but he has a personality that can be... moody, you know."
"I see what you mean..." She sighed and looked out the window at the passing landscape.
"He's not like Tom." Mark laughed, putting on his indicator and pulling into the mall parking lot. He stopped beside the platform to let her out.
Belinda unbuckled her seatbelt and giggled. "Absolutely not."
She waved goodbye, reassuring him that she'd take a taxi back, despite his insistence on picking her up. Finally, alone and a little more relaxed, she began her tour of the shops, studying the windows with a calmness she'd never shown while shopping.
She hadn't intended to go shopping—at least, it hadn't been in her original plan, when she'd spontaneously asked Mark to accompany her—but now she believed she'd done the right thing. She couldn't stand another evening of Bill's long faces. He didn't even have the decency to be humble enough to admit he'd misjudged both her and her brother, but he also had the presumption that he was right. How could she have fallen in love with such a stubborn man?
She sighed and admitted to herself that she truly loved him, even if she couldn't see where their relationship would lead. Their personalities were incompatible, and the only time they got along was because she gave in so she wouldn't see him sad, but she did it only because she was grateful for what he'd done for her during the dark times she'd been through in recent weeks, not because he was right.
She realized she blamed others for always letting Bill win, but she'd done the same, even if... it was a little hard not to please him, given how tender he sometimes seemed. It was natural to love him and please him, even if he didn't ask for it.
In fact, Bill didn't ask; he almost took it for granted that everything was owed to him, not by force, but simply by virtue of the aura he exuded. He had a natural leadership, an undeniable charisma.
Who knows how much Tom must have suffered from this! she found herself thinking, feeling him close by.
She, too, had experienced something similar when her sister was born: they had desired her, spoiled her, pampered her, loved her... the first few times she was home, Belinda had fallen asleep on the edge of the crib so she could admire her. Yet Naomi had never asked for anything either, even though she didn't refuse what was given to her.
A beautiful necklace in a shop window caught her attention; she realized she'd probably been staring at it for a while without really seeing it. She focused on it more closely and understood what had caught her eye. The chain was very simple, even if it was made of shiny links, but the pendant was incredibly beautiful: a star studded with diamonds and a small black heart in the center where, composed of more diamonds, the letter "B" shone.
On other occasions, she would have bought it for herself, since it was her initial, but now she had no doubts about who would receive it as a farewell gift: the only star she knew who had the right light to wear it: Bill!
She smiled and entered the store, where she bought the necklace and had the clerk wrap it for her; she felt happy with her choice.
She spent the next two hours wandering around and choosing gifts for the others; she would distribute them at the end of the week, when they said goodbye.
She took a taxi home after midnight, exhausted and laden with packages; she tried not to make any noise, thinking they were asleep; instead, she found them all sitting on the couch watching TV and eating popcorn.
Naomi's face lit up at the sight of the bags and approached them curiously. "Look, look!" she exclaimed, helping her in.
"Don't you dare!" Belinda ordered. "They're gifts, and they're not opening them now!"
Naomi's eyes shone. "Is there one for me too?"
She shook her head. "No, yours couldn't be wrapped."
"Was it too big?"
Belinda burst out laughing: she had that look every year when she opened Christmas presents.
"No, little one, it's not a material thing... I'll explain later, okay?" As he passed her, he shook her curls tenderly.
She had reached the door of her room when Annalisa reached her.
"So… aren't we leaving right away?" she asked in a weak voice.
"Leaving?" Belinda, surprised, turned to look at her and saw that the others were also waiting for her answer.
"Oh… I see!" she exclaimed after a few seconds. "Someone spoke badly of me." She looked at her sister and Annalisa sternly. "Well, no, we're not leaving. We have a wonderful concert to attend tomorrow, and I wouldn't miss it for the world, considering how much work I've done."
When she closed the bedroom door, she put the bags on the floor and leaned against the wall, sighing. Her little revenge on Bill had alerted the other kids, who were now beginning to fear her reactions.
Ugh, why do I have to act so wise, so serious? I don't want to be a nanny to this bunch of brats! Come on, I'll go cheer them up with some sweets! She snorted, picking up a bulky red bag from the pile of packages.
He returned to the theater. The film's credits were rolling on the television, and Kristian was getting up to remove the DVD from the player, while the others grumbled.
Belinda headed toward the table. "What's going on?"
"A bullshit movie, worthy of Kristian!" Tom muttered. "I couldn't wait for the bad guy to kill the good guy and for it all to be over as quickly as possible."
"It's a feature film that received excellent reviews from critics!" the other defended himself.
"Of course, because critics don't take criticism!" Klaus laughed, clapping him on the back.
They all burst into laughter, watching curiously as Belinda took several wrappers out of the bag and placed them on the table.
Hellen approached her. "What do we have here?"
"Ice cream!" exclaimed Naomi, opening the containers. "And so many flavors!"
Belinda smiled. "I had ordered it for tomorrow, but given the mood in this house..."
"There are also crunchy treats and nuts to put on top!" Klaus rejoiced, studying the containers.
"Will anyone get the spoons and bowls?" Belinda asked, craning her head toward Tom.
"As long as you give me the most!" the boy replied promptly.
"Gone!" she laughed, as Tom ran toward the kitchen and returned shortly after with his hands full of cups and spoons.
Belinda, laughing, handed him a whole jar, and his eyes widened.
"Yes, it's all yours! You deserved it."
Clutching it to his chest like a trophy, Tom took a huge spoonful of ice cream and put it in his mouth, smiling ecstatically.
It was very late when they went to bed, and, anticipating the next day's exertions, they made no plans for the morning.
After a quick shower, Belinda decided to sit in the cool of the balcony, partly because, having slept all afternoon, despite her evening shopping, she wasn't sleepy. She breathed in the fresh air and was about to sit on the ground when something moved in the shadows, startling her and making her jump back.
"What the…?!" she stammered in fear, assuming a defensive posture.
"It's me," Bill muttered, emerging from the shadows and revealing himself.
He was wearing a black cotton shirt with an open zipper, black pants, and bare feet.
"You freaked me out!" Belinda gasped. "What, since I'm not dying a natural death, do you want to give me a heart attack?"
"I didn't mean to... and besides, I didn't know you'd come out the window..."
"... like I always do, you mean?"
"No," he replied calmly, sitting down on the floor and sighed. "I'm no longer amazed by what you do, and I can't decide whether this is fantastic or extremely stupid!"
"Exactly what I think of you!" she snorted, sitting down too, her heart still pounding.
They remained silent for a while, staring at the sky; Belinda wary, though very excited to have him there at that moment, and Bill lost in his thoughts.
"Explain to me, how do you do it?" he finally asked.
She turned to look at him, tilting her head slightly. "Doing what?"
"Always making me feel guilty?" He turned to look at her too. "Why do I always feel stupid around you, even though I think I've given my best?"
"Maybe it comes naturally to you," she muttered under her breath, but he heard her.
"You remind me of Tom when he was little, when you mumble like that." He smiled at the memory.
Belinda searched his face for traces of resentment, but found none, and her expression brightened a little. "That must be why we've bonded so well."
"I noticed," he admitted, leaning his head against the wall behind him.
"Listen, Bill, let's get this straight once and for all…" he bristled.
"I'm not angry, Bel!" He absently took her hand. "I just felt a little left out, that's all. A bit like Tom when he caught us together that morning."
Belinda's heart sank: was it possible that she could create this divide with her attitude? She thought her feelings for the two brothers were clear, not doubtful, as their words revealed.
There was a strong, visceral bond with Tom, a harmony of character, but she would never have thought of him as love, passion. Bill, on the other hand, was the one confusing her thoughts, her emotions, her feelings. Was it possible that she still didn't understand?
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" she apologized, lowering her head.
Bill began fiddling with his fingers. "I don't think it's you who's the problem… It's probably my brother and I, who for the first time feel like we're competing."
"You mean it's my fault?" she asked sadly. "But I don't want to, believe me, I would never…"
"I know, don't worry." He slowly caressed her face, pushing her hair away. "We're not fighting over you, or over who wants you, but we're just trying to win you over."
"But Tom's not interested in me, I promise you," she defended herself, shaking her head.
"Not in a passionate or romantic way, I know!" Bill laughed. "He's already lost his heart on your sister on that point! No, I think this is the first time Tom's ever found someone attacking me to defend him. Not even Mom ever did that."
"I think I know how it feels. I wasn't exactly the sweetheart of the family either," Belinda confessed with a sigh.
"And that's exactly what he sees in you... You should have seen it: if I'd provoked him more, he'd have hit me to defend you. Unbelievable! He's been my defender all my life, against schoolmates, friends, even record companies, the public, and journalists... He took on blame and fame he didn't have to cover up my tantrums, and then... he wants to beat me up over a girl who isn't his," she murmured, thinking of the scene her brother had made that same morning.
"I'm sorry about all this," Belinda whispered, trying to pull her hand away. "As soon as the concert is over, I'll leave right away..."
Bill took her arm and pulled her closer, forcing her to look at him; their faces were touching. "Should I start thinking you're not as smart as I think you are?"
"I... no, it's just... Ugh, you're not helping me think when you're so close to me!" she protested, confused.
"I don't want you to think if this nonsense comes out! You're not leaving until the date you had planned, okay? If you try, I'll force you to honor your employment contract!"
"But why do you want me to stay, when you've been treating me so badly all day?" she asked, astonished.
"Because I'm selfish and jealous… and I didn't like the fact that you asked Tom to help you with the song, instead of me," he confessed reluctantly.
"But it was a gift for you!" Belinda was surprised. "And then I didn't ask Tom, he surprised me in the rehearsal room and offered to help me."
"And that's another thing I can't stand! How is it possible that he always knows where you are, while I don't?" he asked, a little annoyed.
"I think it's a similarity in character," she admitted thoughtfully. "How come, for example, Naomi knows exactly what you wear, think, ask, and so on? You're similar, even if you're not close."
"Maybe you're right. I seemed stupid to you, didn't I?" He pulled her closer, until she sat on his lap.
"No, just an idiot, a selfish bastard." He smiled. "But it doesn't sound as good in German as it does in Italian."
"Yes, I've noticed that insults are more gratifying in your language!" Bill laughed, holding her close and letting her rest her head on his chest.
Belinda relaxed slightly, unsure if it was the right decision, because she was now afraid of creating unnecessary illusions. She had understood that Bill was quite conflicted about his feelings, even though he claimed to care about her.
Only having him so close didn't help her think rationally. His smile, which could be felt even in the dark, his caresses, the warmth of his arms holding her, left her no choice but to stay there, lulled by a feeble fantasy.
I'll regret it, I know, but better one more day with him than one day without! she told herself, immediately finding herself feeling very childish.
"Thank you," Bill whispered in a very sweet tone, kissing her hair. "Your song is truly beautiful."
"Oh!" she exclaimed in surprise, raising her head. "Do you… really like it?"
"It's beautiful, just like the person who wrote it," he confirmed, looking at her with a glint in his eye.
A wave of heat enveloped her insides. He had liked it!
She didn't know if he had understood everything she had poured into it, from her love for him, her doubts, to her desire for revenge, for rebirth, for a new beginning. It had been years since she'd written; it had been like reopening a dammed river and channeling all her feelings into a message just for him.
But what mattered was that it had reached him and that he'd called it wonderful.
"Thank you!" Belinda murmured, her eyes shining.
"Stop thanking me, Bel, you don't owe me anything!" he exclaimed, leaving a trail of kisses on her face. "In fact, you're the one who's already given me so much."
"And you stop saying these things to me, otherwise I won't recognize you anymore... and I'll even cry," Belinda muttered, rubbing her eyes.
"I have all night to dry your tears," he whispered, hugging her tighter.
"No tears! You just have to hold me like this... Will you?"
"Then let's get up and get out of here!" he approved.
He took her in his arms and helped her climb out the window again; They lay down on the bed, where he hugged her tightly, even though he wasn't sure one night would be enough to make up for his stupid behavior.
No, for the first time, Bill wasn't sure he deserved such selfless affection. He wasn't used to being loved for who he was, so passionately, and without expecting anything in return. Everything he'd ever received in life was a reward for something he'd done: a grade in school, a music award, hugs from fans, including those who'd stand for hours under hotel windows waiting for him and screaming their love. That affection touched his heart, but he knew it was because of what he expressed with his music, and that it came back to him in that form. Bel was different; she had hated him, challenged him, ridiculed him, yet when she looked at him, she made him feel euphoric, disturbed... alive. And he wasn't ready for all this, or at least, he didn't know how to behave.
Yet that night she was with him, in his arms, reminding him that she had chosen him, that she wanted him, that she loved him.
He fell asleep first, with a contented sigh, happy not to be alone.