With a flight booked at three in the afternoon, Giselle insisted she was all set to go and had plenty of time to help. When they had stumbled out of Au Lapin Agile well after two, she bade goodnight to Nora with a message that in the light of day made little sense.
“Just think about it. I’m taking you to meet someone who may have an unforgettable story to tell.”
Nora tried to unscramble her rather blurred memories and recall the rest of the conversation. If she remembered correctly, Giselle had explained there was an elderly reclusive relative she wanted Nora to meet. Something about the Resistance, something about a memoir. It didn’t make a lot of sense.
She made an espresso and sipped it at the kitchen island. It was a rainy day and the view out the windows had been transformed. The rooftops glistened under low-hanging clouds, creating a more somber ambiance than a sunny day. Faint trails of gray smoke spiraled from chimneys, and Nora chuckled as a brief Mary Poppins image popped into her head. Wrong country though.
Giselle texted her and was at the door with Atticus minutes later.
“Good grief!” Nora exclaimed. “How can you look so bright-eyed and full of energy after our late night?”
“Years of practice, ma chérie, many years of intense practice.” She raised an eyebrow, giving Nora a look filled with wisdom. “It’s part of living in Paris. Trust me.”
“I must thank you for an amazing experience last night, in so many ways. Your friends, the music?—”
“Ah, the tango,” Giselle interrupted, flashing her bright smile. “I’m so happy you loved it. It will change your life, and I’m not being dramatic. Everyone should experience that dance. And I’m glad you enjoyed my friends, who are now your friends. Another of the joys of life.”
Nora wanted to hug Giselle but of course did not. She was overwhelmed by the positive energy this woman brought to her. She reached out and took Giselle’s hand, and they grinned at each other. No words were necessary.
In no time they had transferred all of Nora’s belongings. Giselle had insisted on helping in spite of Nora’s protests.
Atticus had walked back and forth with them, supervising with curiosity.
“Eh bien. Allez zou! Let’s go. Ma tante Marie-Louise is waiting for us,” Giselle said as they put on their coats. “She lives a few minutes away.”
Two streets from their apartment building, Giselle led Nora onto a narrow cobblestone alley that could easily have been missed if one hadn’t known it was there. They were on a secluded cul-de-sac lined with some of the tiniest houses Nora had ever seen, nestled quietly between larger two-story townhouses. They stopped in front of a worn stone façade covered in ivy, the leaves brown and dry in the winter cold. A wrought-iron gate, its black paint lightly flecked with rust and softened by time and weather, guarded the entrance to a flagstone path. A wreath of cedar boughs tied with bright-red ribbon graced the wooden front door.
“These houses rarely change hands. Generations of my blessed late mother’s family lived here for almost 150 years. My aunt has been here since the 1950s. I mentioned it last night—you do remember, right?” She looked in Nora’s eyes and chuckled.
“I have to admit my memory is rather blurred. That was quite an evening! But I do recall you speaking to me about your aunt. If my memory serves me right, she has a remarkable story to tell.”
“Très bien! And yes, I’m hoping you will feel inclined to encourage her to open up and share her journey. So far, I have not had any luck, but it strikes me that you are someone who may have the right touch with her. At any rate, I’m sure you will enjoy her company.”
Nora’s thoughts began to clear and her conversation with Giselle from earlier in the morning was filtering back into her head. “Right! You told me an amazing tale about her past. And you mentioned even though she has a full-time caregiver, you visit with her a couple of times a week.”
“Formidable! You do remember.” Giselle grinned.
“As you know, my French isn’t great. I hope we can converse.”
“Your French is better than you give yourself credit for. But you will be pleasantly surprised,” Giselle said, giving her a cryptic look.
She tapped the brass door knocker shaped like a hand and opened the door into a small foyer.
A bell tinkled lightly as they entered. A young girl with a pixie cut and the brightest green eyes Nora had ever seen immediately appeared and bised with Giselle before she greeted Atticus with a scratch on his head. He sat perfectly still, but his tail wagged nonstop.
“Yvette, bonjour ma belle. This is my friend from Canada, Nora, who is going to stay with Atticus while I’m gone.”
Nora offered her hand with a smile.
“Enchantée,” Yvette said, shaking Nora’s hand. “Please come in. Tante Marie-Louise is reading in the garden. The sun is lovely and warm this morning, and she is snuggled in her couverture chauffante.”
As they walked through the house, Nora commented on how Atticus was so quiet and calm. Giselle said, “He and my aunt have a special love affair going. He seems to understand she is elderly and must be treated with respect.”
They walked through a narrow kitchen, immaculate and organized, and out to a postage-stamp-size patio surrounded by vine-covered stone walls. A tall infrared heater stood in one corner radiating warmth.
A petite, fragile-looking, white-haired woman with bright-red nails and matching lipstick was wrapped in a soft pink blanket on a high-backed wicker chair. Giselle undid the leash and let Atticus greet her first.
Her blue eyes sparkled as she reached a hand to pet him and whisper some words before he sat for a cookie.
