“Oh, thank goodness! I know Pierre was anxious about the situation.”
Chloe continued, saying, “It’s unbelievable the lengths they have to go to with some of the pieces—building wooden support frames and stuff like that. It’s a much bigger job than I expected. Now they’re installing racks in the van to hold everything in place during the drive.”
“Would you like to stop by my place for a celebratory drink after work?”
“Actually,” Chloe replied, “we just decided we’re going to work here until half past seven and then take Felix out for dinner. Come and meet us at La Boite aux Lettres at eight. Sound good?”
“Excellent, I adore that place. I’ll see you there! Is Pierre with you?”
“Yes. We are all here and going a little crazy. You can calm us down.”
* * *
Dinner ended up being a lively, raucous affair. Several of Olivier’s young friends who were helping pack and load the art came along, and the mood was light and irreverent. There was much laughter and clinking of glasses as everyone relaxed after a stressful day. There was more work to be done the next day, but it was obvious tonight was going to be a party.
Nora sat across from Pierre and Felix. It was interesting to listen to them talk about their exploits as young artists in the 90s, struggling to make names for themselves in such a competitive business.
Pierre had gone from art college in Marseille to the prestigious Beaux Arts in Paris. There he met Felix, who had come from Deauville, where he’d grown up.
Nora enjoyed the stories of Pierre being such an accomplished painter. He was modest about giving up his brushes to focus on opening a gallery and searching out new talent to champion.
Felix continued to paint and specialized in seascapes and coastal landscapes. He seemed to assume that Pierre and Nora were an item until at one point Pierre corrected him.
“Ah non, we are family.”
Nora was amused and not insulted.
When Pierre had introduced Nora, he told Felix she was a writer and explained about the memoir she was working on.
“Oh Nora, you need to come to Normandy,” said Felix. “You will find stories there that will intrigue and inspire you. The people of Normandy have never forgotten what went on during the Occupation and the arrival of the Allies. In that part of France, the stories have lived on vividly through the generations. You must come. And besides, it is a beautiful place.”
Pierre agreed and suggested perhaps he and Nora could take Olivier’s car and drive up for a day.
His suggestion took Nora by surprise, but she liked the idea. She insisted she would be the driver.
Pierre slammed his fist lightly on the table. “I keep forgetting about this stupid injury. But whenever I make a sudden move, I’m reminded.”
Nora and Pierre walked back to the apartment together, leaving Felix and the rest of the crew to continue their revelry.
“I’m not up to partying yet,” Pierre said. “But I have to say, my pain level is much lower and I am not taking pills anymore.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Nora said. “It was lovely to meet Felix. You two have quite a history! And by the way, I meant what I said. I would be happy to be the driver and do a day trip up to Normandy, if you were serious about it.”
“I was,” Pierre replied. “But I’m sorry I just blurted the idea out without asking you first. I can be like that.”
“Let’s talk about it next week, once you’re feeling even better. Hopefully, the new brace the doctor ordered for you will help.”
“Goodnight, Nora. Thank you for your friendship.” He leaned in and gave her a light bise. It made Nora smile, but she managed to hide her surprise.
ChapterForty-Seven
It had beena week since Pierre’s terrible mishap at the skating party.
Early Tuesday morning, Chloe texted Nora.
Chloe: Mom! Emergency! Olivier was going to drive P to the hospital for his appointment. Now we both have a very important out-of-town meeting this morning. Could you drive him in our car? We will drive with a colleague to our meeting.”
Nora: Of course. What time?
