Giselle was a woman of an indeterminate age who commanded attention. Her smile was infectious, her energy palpable. Nora had never met anyone quite like her.
The three women chatted for a while before Chloe left to get ready to go to the studio with Olivier. “We’ve got a Zoom call before we go, Mom, so we will be home a while longer.”
Giselle showed Nora around the apartment, assuring her there was little to feel responsible about except a few houseplants and Atticus.
“Please make this your home,” Giselle said. “You are doing me such a favor and allowing me to jet away with no guilt. Mille mercis!”
She opened the door to a light-filled room with floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the same breathtaking view over the city as Chloe’s living room had. Sunshine cast warm light over the worn wooden floor. “My studio, my sanctuary,” Giselle murmured.
“Chloe told me you were an artist she admired and that she had learned much from you.”
Giselle looked at the floor modestly. “Your daughter is so talented, as is Olivier. We learn from each other. It’s exciting to watch them progress and I love their youthful company.”
The room was filled with organized chaos. A tall easel held a work in progress at least five feet tall. Paint-spattered oilcloths were strewn on the floor. Tubes of paint lay scattered on a battered wooden table along with jars of brushes of all sizes, graphite pencils, charcoal sticks, and a selection of palettes both used and new.
Nora took the scene in and noted the peace reflected in Giselle’s eyes as the woman ran her fingers over a stack of open sketchbooks piled on a stool.
“My bibles,” she whispered.
Unfinished canvases, multicolored splashes of paint, and pinned-up sketches adorned the walls. A faint smell of oil paint and turpentine hung in the air.
“Chloe told me you are a writer. But if you ever have the urge to dabble, feel free to be part of the energy. It sustains me. Mon dieu, it might be the perfect place for you to be inspired and write.”
Giselle quickly cleared one end of the table. “Voilà! Consider this your spot! The room has its own vibe. You know the van Gogh brothers once lived next door, and I have always sensed something special exists that has lasted since then. When you decide to work in here, close your eyes and try to breathe it in.”
Nora nodded, speechless at first. Giselle was inspiring. Then as she looked around at the art on the walls, she said, “I hope you will show me more of your work before you leave.”
Giselle flashed a smile. “With pleasure, although we don’t have a lot of time. I’ll have to be concise and not blather on … which is my style. Come by tonight and we will open champagne.”
They walked back out to the kitchen area. Giselle picked up a small bag and handed it to Nora.
“These are the special treats like the one I gave you. If you always have one or two in your pocket, Atticus will be the most obedient boy always.”
Giselle showed Nora the cupboard with his food and more treats and toys, explaining his daily schedule. Atticus shuffled with excitement and picked up a well-worn stuffed octopus chew toy with cloth legs that popped and crinkled as he whipped it around.
Giselle and Nora laughed, and Giselle played tug with Atticus for a few moments. “As you can see, he enjoys this and will play it any time.”
Nora told her about Maggie, her Wheaten, and how much she’d loved having a dog. “Atticus is already bringing back memories. Don’t worry, we’ll have fun together.”
“We have been out for our early morning walk, but I thought we would take a stroll around the neighborhood before lunch.” Giselle paused as if a thought had just occurred to her. “Would you like to come with us?”
Without hesitation, Nora said, “Perfect! Just knock on the door when you’re ready. I will be catching up on some work and happy to take a break anytime.” She felt ready for an adventure, just from talking to Giselle.
Atticus had calmly accompanied them on their apartment tour and seemed perfectly comfortable with Nora’s presence. He sat on command and presented his paw for her to shake before she left.
* * *
Chloe and Olivier were about to leave for their studio when Nora returned to their place. With their coats already on, they were finishing up two last cups of espresso.
“Whoa! I remembered Giselle as being vivacious, but I’d forgotten what a ball of fire that woman is. And her studio! Wow! She radiates passion and joie de vivre!” Nora joined Chloe at the kitchen table.
Chloe and Olivier laughed. “Having her as a neighbor is quite the experience. Never a dull moment and, well, just so much laughter.”
“And so many bottles of champagne in that studio,” added Nora.
“As you saw,” Chloe said, “she’s a talented artist and actually has quite the following in France and beyond. But she is immensely modest, never brags. She loves to talk about the artist’s life … the creativity and inspiration … and I have learned things from her that I’ve seen or heard nowhere else. She’s an original.”
Olivier said, “She’s also incredibly sweet and thoughtful. And what a life! She was a model for Gucci for years and can tell you wild stories that are hard to believe, but are true. She probably didn’t tell you that her family has lived in this building since it was built. Her great-great-great grandparents were friends with Theo van Gogh and knew Vincent when he was here.”
