The sun blazed in a cloudless sky as Nora and Atticus walked home. The temperature had risen dramatically, and the streets were full of pedestrians enjoying a promising start to the new year.
Nora felt cold and empty inside. Her thoughts remained stuck in the visuals of the stories she’d just heard. Children woke each day to fear and horror. She couldn’t stop thinking that it was happening again in so many places in the world right now. The details were different, but the results the same: death, starvation, hatred, fear. She usually avoided watching much of the world news so she wouldn’t see too much of it. It always made her wonder why, as Marie-Louise had asked, lessons hadn’t been learned.
Eventually, being drawn into Marie-Louise’s stories from the past brought her sharply back to the present. It was difficult not to feel hopeless about humanity, but she had to rise above her personal reactions now and do her best at bringing Marie-Louise’s words to life. Even if it was only for the sake of the woman’s family, while Marie-Louise still had time.
Instead of taking the direct route to her building, Nora and Atticus stayed out for more than an hour. Breathing the crisp air and feeling the warmth of the sun on her face slowly brought Nora around to the beauty of the day and how good it was to be alive. Not just alive, but alive in Paris. She felt grateful for the charm—and safety—of her surroundings.
By the time they arrived home, the sun had dropped to the horizon. She was often amazed, particularly when she was outside, at how quickly it happened this time of year.
She texted Chloe, who had invited her for dinner.
Nora: Thanks, dear, I’m having an early dinner and working on a new copyedit job, then I’ll be off to bed. It’s been a most emotional afternoon. How is P?
She was quite certain she knew the answer to that question. Pierre would still be sore, not just around his shoulder and his chest, but all over, after that huge man landed on top of him. And he wouldn’t be happy about his lack of privacy.
Her phone dinged with a reply.
Chloe: Understood. Hope the writing goes well. Pierre still in a lot of discomfort. Sleeping a lot now as meds kick in. Still insisting he can drive the art to Nice. Says he needs a week to adjust. He’s checking with a few friends. Don’t see how he can do it. Time will tell.
Luc had left a voicemail earlier in the afternoon sending New Year’s wishes and asking if Nora was still fine for tango on Friday. She returned his call.
Luc asked about the skating party and Nora said she’d save the story for when they were together on Friday. He said he was intrigued when she told him it wasn’t quite the midnight celebration they’d all anticipated. But Nora insisted he had to wait and wonder until they got together.
They chatted only briefly, as he said he was preparing to go to Switzerland with Dominique.
“She has a new apartment, so I’m going to see it and spend a couple of days with her. I’ll be back Friday afternoon and pick you up around nine o’clock. Sound good?”
“That sounds better than good, Luc. I’ll be more than ready for some tango therapy. See you then.”
The conversation lifted Nora’s spirits even more. She spent the evening working on a copyedit a client had sent over the holidays. Now that she had extra time in France, she felt less pressure to stay working on Marie-Louise’s memoir. She would take tonight off and devote herself to it for the rest of the week.
She felt happy to welcome positive thoughts and poured herself a glass of white wine before she settled at her computer.
ChapterForty-One
As Noraand Atticus returned from their early-morning walk the next day, Pierre was strolling down the street toward them.
“Bonjour!” Nora said. “It’s nice to see you up and around. How are you feeling? Chloe said she thought the medications are giving you some relief from the pain.”
Pierre nodded—still no bise, Nora noted—and attempted a smile. “Lots of discomfort, but the pain is dulled most of the time. At least until the pills wear off, and then there will be more to take. Hopefully it will just be a few days like this. I’ve got a thing about taking pills, so I want to be off them soon.”
Nora was sympathetic. “Don’t rush it. If the pills take away the pain, let them.”
They looked at each other awkwardly, and then Pierre said, “Would you like to join me for a coffee or crêpe, or both, at Le Moulin?” He patted Atticus on the head and asked him, “What do you say, mon ami?”
Nora tried to disguise her amazement. “Well … um … yes! Great idea.”
She experienced a mental tizzy of disbelief.Pierre just invited me to join him at breakfast. Could I be any more surprised? OMG.
She turned around and they walked to Le Moulin at the end of the street. Pierre kept up a casual chatter about the skating party and the excellence of their midnight meal. Nora wondered what kind of meds he was on, because she was seeing a totally relaxed Pierre she had only caught glimpses of before. He was even more friendly than when they had driven back to Paris.
Nora ordered her crêpe with Nutella, and Pierre teased her. “Ah yes, this is the flavor that brought you and Chloe to song the last time we were here together.”
Nora chuckled. “You remembered. How embarrassing.”
“Not at all,” Pierre said. “I have noticed how close you and Chloe are … and how close you are with Olivier too, for that matter. I like that very much.”
He looked at her, his gaze sincere, and repeated, “Yes, I like seeing that very much. Watching the three of you together these past weeks has reminded me of what I have been missing.”
