Page 93 of Old Flames

July encouraged her to continue. “Please go on. This is all new to me.”

“De Leon returns to Cuba after the Great Fire in late March ’86. Aurora is heartbroken, she throws herself off the roof later that spring.” She paused. “That’s one version of the story.”

Leo added a header to the top of the page: No. 1: Aurora and Luis

“Are you ready?” Emily asked. “Here’s where things get spicy!”

July nodded. Emily dove into the second version of the story.

“Some say the only reason De Leon was hanging around the block was because he was messing around with the housemaid. When Aurora learns the truth, she’s so embarrassed and ashamed, she throws herself off the roof.”

“Do you know the name of the housemaid?” July asked.

“It never comes up,” Emily said. “Jacobsen might’ve brought her over from the Bahamas to maintain the household. Or she came from Haiti to find work. I feel for her. Imagine your boss’s wife has a crush on your boyfriend, but you can’t put her in her place because she can put you out in the streets.”

No. 2: Aurora, Luis, and ___?

“There’s a third version of this story and it’s the one I like best.”

July sat straight; the muscles of her neck drawn taut. Leo took in her lines of profile, the pointed nose and sharp cheekbones. More than anything else, he wanted to solve the mystery of her inner world.

Why did you stay away so long?

To prove to myself that I could.

Was it necessary to exercise that muscle? Was she training for the day she’d stay away forever? In a desperate move to keep her close or stake his claim or exercise the privilege while he still could, Leo rested a hand on her bare thigh. She laid her hand on his and their fingers slotted together. Instantly, the knot in his chest loosened. He could think again.

“Aurora was trapped in that house,” Leo said. “How serious could she have been about this guy? They could never be together.”

“You have a point,” Emily said. “The housemaid has no agency, but more freedom of movement than Aurora. She had the privilege to walk out without raising suspicion, run errands, do the shopping, and mingle with her peers. She could steal a moment to meet with friends or take a lover. Meanwhile, Aurora is completely isolated, kept away from her family. Old man Jacobsen wants an heir. I mean . . . she had her share of problems. If she were smart, she would’ve let it go.”

“The smart thing would’ve been to get the housemaid on her side,” Leo said. “She could’ve used a friend.”

“But the ladies are young, dumb, and infatuated with the same guy,” July noted. “De Leon would’ve come between them.”

“I have a theory,” Emily said. “When Aurora finds out she’s been crushing on her housemaid’s guy, she’s embarrassed, but not to the point of harming herself. Anyway, he leaves shortly after, abandoning them both. Aurora would’ve learned not to pin her hopes on a man. No prince will scale the tower to save her. She has to do it. When she leaps off the roof, she’s free. I believe this with all my heart. I can’t tell you what happened to the housemaid, or even De Leon. He likely got married back in Cuba and had kids, but when he closed his eyes at night, I’m sure he was haunted by both women, the one who loved him and the one he loved.”

July abruptly withdrew her hand from his and rested it, clenched, on the table. Leo struggled to hide how much this disturbed him.

Emily shut her notebook. “I took some liberties there, but to me it makes perfect sense.”

Leo long figured that Aurora had taken her fate into her own hands, but the story did not end there.

Her lunch break over, Emily returned to the bookstore. Leo and July were at a loss as to what to do next.

“Do you think Daphne would know anything about this?” July asked.

“I owe her a visit,” he said. “It’s worth the try.”

Daphne wasn’t at the literary society. The receptionist suggested they head over to her restaurant. The lunch hour rush was over when they arrived at Ciel. Daphne was at a table with a cup of espresso and a book. She looked up and smiled. “Please let me officiate the wedding. I’ve willed this into existence.”

Leo hugged her. “Better you than my mom’s pastor who said I wouldn’t amount to anything.”

Daphne offered them coffee and lemon cake. “Jules, you look parched. Can I offer you anything else to drink?”

“Water,” she replied, taking a seat at the table.

Leo asked if she was feeling alright. She blamed the heat, but he wasn’t convinced. At lunch, she’d only picked at her club sandwich.