AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Grace gestured for the bill, and Audrey wondered why she was so resistant. It was obvious her husband wasn’t coming back, so the sooner she moved on the better.
This Philippe guy sounded like a good place to start.
“Let’s see what he’s doing. You don’t have to get in touch.”
Grace paid the bill and stood up. “Let’s go.”
Audrey wondered what exactly had happened between Grace and Philippe. “Where are we going?”
“To the market. We’re going to learn vocabulary for fruit and vegetables.”
“Why? I hate fruit and vegetables,” Audrey grumbled. “Why can’t we learn the French for junk food? Hamburger, fries, extra deep-fried crap.”
“Don’t say crap.”
“Well, extra deep-fried darn doesn’t make any sense at all.” She was encouraged to see Grace smile. “Why won’t you teach me to ask for junk food? I thought you were my friend.”
“I am your friend, which is why I’m not going to give you the words that will help you abuse your body.”
“Does that mean you won’t teach me the word for condom?”
“No. I’m going to teach you that one. In fact, we’re going one better—we’re going to a pharmacy and you’re going to ask for them yourself.”
Audrey shrank. “Over my dead body.”
“If you carry on eating all that salt and junk food and no fruit and veg, it will be over your dead body.”
“Do you nag your own daughter this much?”
“Much more.”
“Well, shit—I mean darn, no wonder she went traveling.” But Audrey slid her arm into Grace’s. “Okay, we’ll go to the pharmacy but while we’re there we’re going to buy you condoms, too.”
Grace made a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. “I have no need for condoms.”
“You will if I have anything to do with it.”
“You don’t have anything to do with it.”
Audrey gave a smug smile. “We’ll see about that.”
Grace
Grace put the bunch of flowers she’d bought into a vase and set them on the table by the open window. As promised, she’d already watered the pots on the little balcony. It was an oasis of greenery, suspended above the Paris street below. Herbs grew in scented profusion, nestled in sunbaked terra-cotta pots, next to the vermillion splash of geranium and the tumble of lobelia.
It was late evening and she left the French doors open, appreciating the whisper of cool air that flowed through the apartment. Across the street she could hear the sounds of someone practicing the clarinet, the tap and thump of pointe shoes from the ballet school next door and, more distantly, the hum and buzz of Paris.
Even though it had only been a few days, already the apartment felt like home. With its high ceilings and calm decor, there wa
s a peace to it that Grace found infinitely more soothing than the opulence of the hotel. Best, of course, was the fact that no one inquired about David. It had been like trying to walk on a broken limb, impossible to forget the injury.
Here, in this new private world where she was the only inhabitant, her old life receded.
She’d spent the afternoon exploring a new gallery, then returned, hot and sticky, her feet protesting, to the sanctuary of the apartment. She’d taken a cool shower using some of the luxurious toiletries she’d brought from her hotel room, and changed into a dress. She’d pinned her still-damp hair away from her neck.
Because she had no intention of leaving the apartment, she didn’t bother with makeup.
From above her she could hear the sound of footsteps and the creak of floorboards. Audrey was getting ready to go out.
