Nora’s mouth gaped. “She did mention the brothers but not her family’s friendship with them! What a history.”
“Yes,” said Olivier. “That is something you often find in France. Families have been connected for centuries and often live in the same place generation after generation.”
Chloe added, “It’s something that fascinates me about living in this country. I’ve heard such wild family histories going back through the Revolution and Napoleonic Wars, and of course, the Occupation. We just don’t have the same kind of historic connections in Canada, for the most part. I love hearing the French stories.”
“You’re right. Those history-filled stories are not something we often find at home. It fascinates me too!” said Nora.
Chloe gave her a sly grin. “Hmm, imagine the stories you might be inspired to write here.”
Nora nodded and changed the subject. “And I believe Atticus and I are already friends.”
“Oh, Mom! Now you know why I wasn’t concerned about you getting along with him. Isn’t he the sweetest? Who knows, you might decide to get a dog again when you go back home.”
“Ha! Don’t get carried away! But our meeting went very well. I feel so happy! I was worried for nothing.”
Chloe rolled her eyes at Oli. “What else is new?”
“Respect your maman,” Olivier chided her.
They said their goodbyes and the two artists left for work.
Nora sat at the tiny dining table with her computer. She organized her work so she could go out with Giselle first and get to everything else later in the afternoon. She figured she would need about two hours to catch up with email and work on a copy edit due to a client by the end of the week. She would worry about the inevitable social media demands later. Her calendar held nothing urgent.
But she was eager to get excited about a new story. If she could just smash through her writer’s block.
ChapterSeven
“I have an idea,”Giselle said when she and Atticus collected Nora just before noon. “If you have good walking shoes.” Her hair, wild and tousled earlier, was now pulled neatly into a sophisticated knot at the nape of her neck.
“Dites-moi,” Nora said. “Oops. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not quite ready to dive into a deep conversation in French yet. And I do have good walking shoes on.”
“Chloe told me you were looking forward to seeing all the Christmas decorations around the city. It will take you many days and you will love them! For a start, we could walk from here to the large department stores on Boulevard Haussmann in about an hour. The windows are done up in the most amazing scenes and animations.”
“Fabulous idea!” said Nora. They left the building and started down the street.
Jittery about Atticus again as they set off, Nora began to relax as the dog displayed perfect manners and seemed to be enjoying the walk as much as she was.
As they strolled, Giselle entertained Nora with a running commentary on the history of the cobblestone streets and narrow laneways they passed. Conversation was light and easy, and more than once Nora gave an inward shake of her head, still adjusting to the shift from her snowy little ski town to the world of Paris.
Nora found Giselle intriguing and admired her passion not just for the city but for life as well—its art, its beauty, its history. And love. Everything the woman spoke about seemed to have an element of love to it. It filled the air around her.
“Each little street here has a story tucked into it, just waiting to be told,” Giselle said, sweeping her hand in front of her. “The cobblestones echo with the footsteps of generations past. Artists have never stopped coming here to passionately create. Throughout my life, each day quietly reaffirms my love for Montmartre. It’s like a dream from which I never wake up and I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I adore everything about this city and this neighborhood in particular.”
“I can’t help but agree. Each time I visit, I’m aware of such gifts to the senses. There is so much beauty, for one thing … and right now all the aromas from the boulangeries and cafés. I keep taking it all in, breath after breath! Maybe you noticed… I can’t help myself.”
They both laughed.
“Paris is definitely a love affair for the senses.” Giselle’s voice dropped to a low, soft tone as she said, “We look for pleasure in everything—art, literature, language, food, drink, fragrances… La séduction is life in France. Be open to it, ma belle.”
Her words hit a quiet nerve and Nora recognized a long-buried ache for something like that kind of passion. Giselle spoke of it with such ease. Nora wondered how it would be to experience everything with such lightness. As easygoing as she appeared, Nora held back on many things that might make her happier. She had become an expert at shoving desire into an interior compartment and tossing away the key.
She walked along quietly for a moment, considering that the word ‘seduction’ was not part of her life. Certainly not without Jeremy.
Atticus kept pace easily with them, and Nora noticed how Giselle stopped to give him a chance to sniff around from time to time. On one such occasion, Giselle said, “This is like reading the news for dogs. They need to discover what’s been going on, just like we do.”
He showed no concern when Giselle answered a phone call and passed the leash to Nora. Nora felt his strong pull, but he stayed at her heel. She felt in control, and that was the important thing.
The slender sidewalks bustled with activity. Cafés were beginning to fill, and the two women found themselves dodging pedestrian traffic until they reached the bottom of the steep streets of Montmartre.
