Page 37 of Under the Shade of the Sycamore

Throughout this competition I’d worked with several models. None had the jazz Adélaïde had shown.

The girl stomped down the runway in her jumper, hit her mark, and then roundhouse kicked an imaginary ninja in the chops. The judges were delighted and so was I. That little girl sold the jumper, and her reworked uniform, like she was channeling Christy Turlington.

Sitting beside my model in her denim outfit was stressful. I felt we had done well. I’d even said so in the confessional we’d filmed right before the runway. I’d spoken frankly about my chances, trying to not come off as stuck-up but simply confident. I’d felt my doubts about myself slowly shrinking over my time here. So, if I came away with nothing else I would have that. And, gods willing, Claude to date. How it would work we’d hash out later. One obstacle at a time.

“Kinder, this is an adorable design,” Gabriel Dupré said when the grading began. “It’s a classic look, yes, and we’ve seen many jumpers before but the eye to whimsy on this one makes it a stand out.”

“Merci, thank you.” The famous actor gave me a nod.

“I agree,” Madeleine chimed in, her hands clasped in her lap as Adélaïde beamed at me, her mama at her side. “Simply charming. And, as a mother of three girls, I wish to commend you on adding those bike shorts. Little girls are not as ladylike as we mama’s wish them to be at times!”

Everyone gently laughed.

“Merci, thank you. I have two younger sisters who I make clothes for so I know how easily a skirt flips up over a head with energetic girls.”

“Indeed!” Madeleine giggled.

“If I had a children’s line this would be an easy addition,” Marcel said. “There is a charm to your work, especially in this garment, that speaks to mass marketing as well as to the woman, or girl, who wishes to set trends. Very well done. This is what we had been expecting from you in the repurposed materials assignment.”

“Merci, thank you Marcel.”

The judging and comments continued, most pleasant, until they came to Enzo.

“This is not pleasing to the eye,” Soline stated, leaning over her notecards which sent her fall of dark hair over a sleek shoulder clad in peach silk. “The wide sash seems out of place and sloppy.”

“I had no time to make another after Claude’s review. There were bows on it but he made me remove them for what he claimed were safety reasons.” Enzo spat out with such enmity the venom could have eaten through the runway itself. “So the sash is ugly but that is not my fault.”

“Monsieur Moretti, the blame for an outfits success or failure lies with the designer, no one else’s. I find it distasteful to try to blame your advisor for your lack of preparation and wise use of time. Perhaps some simple research into the safety features for children’s clothing beforehand would have been beneficial?”

“If I had a phone then I would have,” Enzo fired back.

“But you have a designer in the work area with you who has crafted clothes for children. Why not turn to Kinder for advice?” Soline asked.

“We do not get along so I assumed any suggestions from him would be laced with deceit to discredit me,” Enzo replied stiffly. My mouth fell open but I snapped it shut quickly. I was sure the cameras got my stunned reaction. Yeah, we didn’t get along but I wouldn’t lie to him. I had tried to help. He blew me off. I kept my lips pressed shut.

“Next time I would suggest you listen to someone with more knowledge,” Soline snapped then turned her attention to Mickey. Seated beside Enzo I could only gape at him as the rest of the outfits were judged. When I was announced the winner I did a little bouncy dance in my chair while Enzo stared into space, his jaw tight as a banjo string. There was going to be issues with him down the road I was pretty sure. But for now I was going to bask in another high grade and to hell with Enzo Moretti.

***

Another win. Another excellent grade. I was so close to winning I could almost touch the Euros. The midnight meeting under the tree was a happily reserved one, with Claude and I spending most of our secret time discussing how many designers box themselves in with only working with one certain type of clothing or client. He’d commended me on my jumper as well as the uniform update, although he felt Mickey’s uniform was better constructed but his opinion didn’t count. Only those of the judges did.

“Good for me then that you’re our advisor and not a judge,” I tossed out with some sass.

“Indeed. If I were in a judges seat our growing admiration of each other would be jeopardized.” There was a pregnant pause. Our friendship – and that was a pale word to choose but if I called it a relationship I’d be more tangled up – was already balancing on a tight rope of ethical behavior. We both knew it. We just opted to feel and let the principles of a new admiration as he called it slip. Would that bite us in the ass? Possibly. Was I too smitten to care right now? Definitely. “I remember being a young man, much younger than you are now, and tumbling into a love affair that many would have judged harshly.”

I shifted on the bench for a better view of this incredibly handsome man. “Tell me more. If you want that is. I know the general stuff about you, what your media consultants release to the world, but I’d like to get to know you the man better. Especially since we’re…you know…growing to admire each other.”

“That seems only fair. I know so much about you,” he gave me a soft smile then drew in a long breath. “There is not much to tell sadly. I was young man, perhaps fifteen, and already well aware that my sexual tastes were not for the young ladies. It was secret though since the world was not as accepting then as it is now, and also because my parents were rather strict Roman Catholics. Being gay was a sin in their eyes, so I hid my homosexuality until I met a lovely young man, a year or two older than me. His father was a dear friends of my fathers so they were at our home often. We went swimming one day on the small pond at our cottage. We tumbled about play wrestling as young men do after our swim. One thing led to another…”

“Ah I see. Did you kiss?” I was so intrigued. I’d never had an experience like that as a teenager. I’d known I was gay young as well but had never had the good fortune to find another guy around my age to experiment with.

“Oh yes, and more. Much to our chagrin his mother came looking for him as they’d been called home for a family emergency. This was before every man, woman, and Chihuahua had a phone in their pocket. She discovered us in a delicate condition. Needless to say she was not pleased, nor were my parents when she relayed her story to them after being found with our pants literally down.”

“Oh shit.”

“Quite. Things were quite strained after that afternoon. Both with my parents and the young man. He went on to marry a young woman, father several children, and never once speak to me again.” He reached for his cigarettes then stopped, his sight moving to me. “Would you object?”

“They are so bad for you,” I gently replied. His hand fell to his lap. His sigh was epic. I had to smile just a bit.