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She stared at their hands. “Well, sometimes I take his books, and I go to places I think he might have gone. I sit and read his poetry and wonder what he was feeling… what he was thinking when he wrote. And… I’ve interviewed some of the elders here, too. To see if they remember him… but so far… nothing. He told me once that I reminded him of this place. Of its beauty… He said that my name came to him here and that he knew if he ever had a daughter that he’d name her Amelie.”
Jack squeezed her hand. “He was really lucky he did. I know he would be really proud of you, Amelie.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I’d like to think so. But I’m not stupid, Jack. I know he ruined me for all other men.”
Jack frowned. “How so?”
Amelie bit her lip and searched his eyes. “He adored me. He made me feel special. Everything I ever did was perfect in his eyes. And I know that as long as I live that no one will ever love me that way again.” She laughed. “I mean, it would be a lot to ask. Don’t you think?”
Jack cupped her face with his hands and kissed her softly. “I can love you like that. Just come home. Come back to the States with me, Amelie.”
She kissed him back. “Oh, Jack. You know I can’t.”
He pulled away and searched her face. “You mean you won’t. Not that you can’t. Because that’s bullshit. You absolutely can. There are plenty of schools back home. Is it him…? The professor. He’s the reason, isn’t he?”
Amelie rolled her eyes. “Vincent? God, no. He’s just… Vincent. I like him… he’s brilliant… but it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like? What’s keeping you here?” Jack pleaded.
“I don’t know. It just feels like I’ve come home.”
Jack stood and walked to the edge of the walkway and then turned away completely, unable to meet her eye. “I can’t compete with that. Tell me how I’m supposed to compete with that…”
She stood and followed. “You can’t. I’m glad you came. I wanted you to see. I thought maybe you’d understand once you were here.”
Jack spoke, raising his voice more than he’d intended. “Understand! What the fuck is there to understand? I love you. I want to be with you and… you want to be here.” He threw up his arms. “This… this place isn’t me… in case you haven’t noticed.”
She lowered her voice and spoke sarcastically. “No, Jack. I hadn’t noticed. Not at all.”
“I can’t stay here for another minute. I just can’t do it. Quite frankly, what you’re asking me to do is bullshit. I’m leaving tomorrow.” He walked toward the gate without turning back.
“Where are you going?”
Jack kept walking. “To a hotel.”
The following morning, Jack awoke to a knock at his door. He opened it to find Amelie standing there. She held up a paper sack and a Styrofoam cup and pushed past him. “I brought breakfast.”
“How’d you find me?” he asked, running his fingers through his hair.
She sighed. “Small town. You’re American.”
Jack used the bathroom, and then splashed cold water on his face. When he came back out, Amelie was lying across the bed. “So you’re leaving today, huh? You sure you can’t be… um… persuaded otherwise?”
He frowned and pulled a shirt over his head. “Yes.”
“Yes, I can persuade you. Or yes, you’re sure?” She winked.
He glanced at his watch. “I have to be at the airport in three hours.”
She stood and walked to him, slipping her hand inside his pajama pants. “Then I guess we don’t have much time, do we? It’s probably best to make the most of it…”
They drove to the airport in silence. Amelie white-knuckled the steering wheel as Jack pretended not to notice. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, closed his eyes, and wished he were anywhere but where he was. He couldn’t wait to get the hell out of this place. He ran through all the reasons in his head why he hated France and why he had to leave, now. Of all of the reasons he had, Jack realized the biggest was her. France was taking—or had taken, he corrected himself, Amelie away from him. It had made her worldly, and he knew, perhaps even from the moment she picked him up at the airport, that she could no longer picture a life back in The States. And with that came the realization, for Jack, that she couldn’t picture a life with him, either.
“Hey, you,” she finally said glancing briefly in his direction and then back at the road.
He opened his eyes to let her know he’d heard, and then shut them again.
She spoke slowly, softly. “Thank you for coming. I really am sorry about… everything. I know things didn’t go quite like we expected… but you’ll come back, right? Maybe… next summer?”
