Her words screamed out her sincerity, but they also reeked of poor judgment and immaturity. “Coming between a man and wife isn’t right,” I said. “Don’t you see that?”
“They were separating anyway!” she said with more than a little despair. She bent down and began to scrub furiously at the tile where I had left off. “They were. She was going to leave him. Then the accident happened.”
“And Philippe underwent a change. He recognized his errors, or some of them. I understood that he was going to try again with his wife, if given the chance.”
“What are you saying?” Lu-Lu scrubbed harder. That she would risk soiling her dress in this mundane task showed her troubled frame of mind. A detached part of me wondered how I could get her to finish the rest of the floor. I sat on a chair to watch.
“I’m saying you haven’t given them a chance. How do you know Danielle still wants to get rid of him?” With every fiber of my being, I felt my sister-in-law was making a mistake. She had kept herself pure too many years to settle for anything less than an eternal relationship.
Her hands worked violently with the brush on the tile but always in the same spot.
I sighed and knelt down on the tile, placing my hands over hers. “Stop. It’s clean there.”
She glanced down and heaved a shuddering breath. “Ari, what am I going to do?”
“I don’t know. Only you can decide. But if there is something left in their marriage, you have no right to come between them. They are married. That’s sacred, even out of the temple.”
“I need to talk to Danielle,” she said abruptly.
I didn’t know if that was a good idea.
“Then I’ll know how she feels. If she’s just waiting to leave him again, then—”
“And if she’s not?”
“She is! I know it!” She stared at the white tile a full minute before saying in a soft voice, “Will you go with me, Ari?”
“What, me? Right now? Is she even home from the hospital?”
Lu-Lu nodded. “She went home three days ago. She has a temporary nanny to take care of the children and a nurse who comes in daily. But Philippe has a meeting. He won’t be there. It’ll be the perfect opportunity. We’ll say we wanted to see how she was doing.”
“I would like to know,” I said. “Marc keeps asking about her.” I brightened. “Hey, we could take Marc. He’s feeling stronger now, I think. Getting him out of the house might be just what he needs to cheer him up. The doctor won’t let him go to school yet, but this ought to be all right.”
“That would be perfect,” Lu-Lu agreed.
Leaning over, I mopped up some of the dirty residue on the floor.
“Ar-r-i-i-i,” agonized Lu-Lu.
“Well, I can’t just leave it to dry, can I?”
“I’ll clean the whole floor for you later, if we can go now.”
“It’s a deal. And I’ll hold you to it, too. I’ll go change and get Marc. Don’t worry—I’ll be quick.”
I knocked at Marc’s room. “Come in,” he said. He lay on his bed, stomach down, staring at a pair of roller blades on the floor.
“How are you feeling?” I asked. I wondered that the position didn’t hurt his surgery scars.
“Better,” he said. He paused before adding, “How long do you think it’ll be before the doctor says I can go blading?”
“I’m not sure. We’ll have to wait and see.”
He sighed. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. I don’t feel much like going, anyway.” His eyes rose to meet mine. “Will I ever want to go again, do you think? Will I ever be like I was before?”
I bit my lip, wondering what to say. Sitting on his bed, I curled over his body, cradling him and stroking his back as I hadn’t done since he was a child. He was bigger than I was now. He rolled slightly and brought an arm up to circle my neck. “I think you will,” I said, “if you want to. Until then, let’s take it one day at a time.”
He nodded. “Thanks, Mom.”
I straightened. “Aunt Lu-Lu and I thought we’d go see Danielle Massoni. She’s out of the hospital now. How ’bout it? Want to go?”
He sat up, a smile coming back to his face. “Oh, sure. I’d like to go. She’s really pretty, isn’t she?”
I laughed and punched his shoulder. “Typical male.”
A few minutes later, we were ready to leave. But the buzzer at the outside door rang again, and this time Simone was on the other side. “We’ll be right down,” Lu-Lu said. “We’re leaving.”
“No, I’ve got something in my hands. I have to come up,” Simone replied.
We waited, Marc sitting in a chair, Lu-Lu pacing, and me watching the two of them. “Here I am,” Simone called as she entered the apartment carrying a pastry box in her hand.
“What’s this for?” I questioned. “The twins’ birthday isn’t until Wednesday.”
Simone’s thin lips curled in a smile. “It’s not for them. It’s for me.”
“It’s not your birthday.”
“No, but I am celebratin’. Where are the others? I want to tell everybody together.”
“Sorry. They’re at the café.”
Simone’s face drooped. “Oh.” But whatever her secret, it wouldn’t let her stay depressed. “I guess you’ll have to do,” she said. With a flourish and a fairly good imitation of a bugle trumpeting, she threw off the top of the cake box. In bold letters, it read: Congratulations on your wedding!
Lu-Lu’s eyes darted to mine in consternation. In them I read the same question I was asking myself: How did Simone know about Lu-Lu wanting to marry Philippe?
“Frédéric and I are finally gettin’ married,” Simone announced. “So don’t I get some congratulations or somethin’? What is with you two? I thought ya’d be happy. You’ve been tellin’ me for the past year that I ought to marry him.”
“That’s great, Grandma!” Marc said. Lu-Lu and I joined in, perhaps a little too heartily. Simone didn’t seem to notice.
“We’re goin’ to wait until spring, of course, but Frédéric was determined to celebrate my answer now. He bought me this cake. We thought we could have a little party.”
Marc’s eye’s danced almost like before the accident. “We could do it tonight.”
“Sure, we need a party,” I said.
“But right now we’re going to see Danielle Massoni,” Lu-Lu said pointedly.
“That lady Marc saved?” Simone said. “I think I’ll go with you, if ya don’t mind.”
“Sure. Why not?” Lu-Lu said. But she didn’t seem very happy at the added company. “Come on. Let’s go.” She led the way to the elevator and from there to her car, parked out front. Soon we were hurtling through the streets of Paris with a velocity to make the strongest stomach ill. In the backseat Marc and I stared at each other, with me feeling as green as he looked. Simone threw back her head and laughed with glee. Lu-Lu only glared ahead in determination.
Like us, the Massonis lived in a wealthy area of town. The February air was filled with the tantalizing smells coming from a corner bakery. Lu-Lu stopped and bought an assortment of pastries for the Massoni children. We rang the gold buzzer at the outside door, and when we announced ourselves, the door clicked open.
“That was quick,” Marc commented.
“She must want to see us,” Simone said. “Probably to thank you for savin’ her life.”
Marc beamed. “You think?”
It wasn’t Danielle but a teenaged girl with short brown hair who let us in. Behind her in the wide, circular entryway peered the two children we had seen at the hospital, both excited but reserved. “Mommy’s in there,” the little girl said, pointing across the rich rugs scattered across the wooden floor to a door that was half ajar.
We looked at the nanny, and she nodded. “She said for you to go right in. She’s in her bedroom. I’m fixing lunch—will you be staying?”
“I don’t think so.” Lu-Lu spoke at the same time Simone said, “Sure.” The girl frowned in confusion.
“We’ll just stay a while,” I said. “We have other plans for lunch.”
She smiled at me gratefully. “Go on in, then.”
We followed the children into the room. Danielle Massoni sat up in bed, a mound of matching pillows supporting her back. The bed was large, and the pictures and other decorations made it obvious that this was a room shared by a married couple. Lu-Lu’s face tensed with added pain. “I brought the children some pastries,” she said in a wavering voice.
Danielle smiled up at us, her lips full and inviting. Her high cheekbones made her seem young and fragile. Yellowish bruises ran along one cheek and on her forehead, and her left arm sported an ugly scar. “Oh, thank you! Look, children, this can be your dessert. What do you say?”
“Thank you,” the children chimed in sweet, high voices.
“I’m so glad you came!” Danielle said, her voice like soft velvet. “I’ve been telling Philippe that I have to go see you and thank you for what you did for me. I’m so grateful! But he refuses to let me until I’m up and about.” Her beautiful gray eyes rested on Marc. “You’re the boy who saved me in the bombing, aren’t you? How brave you were! I couldn’t believe it when I saw you skating over that train. Until I saw you, I was sure I was going to die! How can I ever thank you?”
“Aw, it was nothin’.” Marc hung his head and looked pleased.
“Not to me, it wasn’t. Nor to my family. If it weren’t for you, my children wouldn’t have a mother!” Danielle wiped away a tear and focused on Lu-Lu. “And don’t I remember you? Yes, you took me to the ambulance. They say if you hadn’t gotten me there so quickly, I would have died before I reached the hospital. What a family you are! I can’t believe that you could help me, not knowing where your own nephew was.” She grabbed Lu-Lu’s hand. “Thank you so much!”
“Uh . . . you’re . . . welcome,” Lu-Lu managed. “It wasn’t just me, though. A man helped me carry you.”
“I didn’t know that,” Danielle said. “I wonder who he was.”
“A man in the bombing,” Lu-Lu murmured. “He lost his wife.”
Danielle’s lovely face fell. “Oh, that’s sad. I hope he’s all right.”
“We never saw him again,” Lu-Lu said. “So we don’t know.”
“We’ll have to pray for him,” Danielle said softly. We stood in silence for a long minute.
“So how are things with you now?” I asked before we could dwell on the sadness any longer.
She smiled at me. “Are you Marc’s mother?”
I nodded. “And Pauline’s. I understand she came to visit you a few times in the hospital after you woke up. I worried that she would be intruding.”
“Oh, never.” Danielle’s sincerity couldn’t be questioned. She was honest and warm, completely unlike the austere woman I had envisioned. “Pauline is like a ray of sunshine. She’s told me all about your family. And about the blessing your husband gave me. It was beautiful.”
“You heard it?” Marc asked in surprise.
Danielle grinned as if a giggle were about to burst from her lips. “No, not really. But Philippe and the children told me.” Her smile dimmed. “You know, that was the first time my husband turned to God for help. I’ve been trying all these years to get him to go to church or something, but he was dead set against it. He wouldn’t even let us talk about such things.” The children had climbed up on the bed on either side of her, both snuggling against her body. She put an arm around each of them. “But I taught them about Jesus,” Danielle continued. “I know He exists and loves us. I used to go to church when I was small, and they told me stories. I still have a Bible, and I read it to the children when Philippe isn’t home.”
“So you and Philippe aren’t getting along?” Lu-Lu asked. Only I seemed to hear the desperation in her voice.
“We weren’t before the accident,” Danielle replied innocently. “We were even separating. But he’s changed now, and I’m so hopeful.” Her eyes seemed luminous in the quiet light of the room. “He doesn’t mind when I talk about Jesus now, and he spends more time with us. And he’s nice. Sometimes he could be so—” She broke off, as if afraid of saying too much.
“You can tell us,” I said, “if you want. We knew Philippe a long time ago. We care about him.” At least Lu-Lu did.
Her smile was back, childlike and engaging. “That’s right. I remember him saying that your husband gave him his first banking job. You must know, then, that his mother died when he was a baby.” I hadn’t known that, but Lu-Lu was nodding. “His father raised him,” Danielle continued. “He was a stern man and very hard on Philippe, not very loving. He never gave him a kind look or a hug. As a result, my husband became angry at everything. He didn’t believe in God, yet at the same time he wanted to somehow punish whoever had taken his mother away.” She sighed. “I’ve never seen anyone so lost. I guess that was what attracted me to him in the first place.” She scanned our faces. “I thought I could fix that. Underneath, he’s really a good person. He’d been married before for about a year, but it didn’t work out. He was pretty bitter about it, but I thought I could fix that, too.
“After we married, Philippe insisted I stay home with the children. He said he didn’t want them growing up without a mother like he did. I’ve loved being home with them, but Philippe and I kept having problems. I didn’t know what to do. He’s a good father, and he loves his children, but the anger wouldn’t leave. So I finally decided I would have to leave to save them.”
There was no doubting that whatever decision Danielle had made before the bombing, she still loved her husband.
“You said things had changed,” Simone prompted.
“Yes. He’s better now.” Her smile lit up her face with unveiled hope. “I think my miraculous recovery is making him understand that there is a God who loves him. And that makes all the difference.”
“I’ve got something to ask you,” Lu-Lu said. There were tears in her eyes and a fatal expression on her pale face. I feared that she might say something to hurt this innocent woman in the bed; but before I could interfere, Lu-Lu rushed on. “I’d like you to come to our church.” Her mouth was open to say more, but no words came out.
“Why, I’d love to!” Danielle said enthusiastically. “Wouldn’t we, children?” They nodded, and the little boy whispered something in her ear. “Yes, I’m sure they’ll have stories about Jesus,” Danielle said. Then she gazed up at Lu-Lu. “Thank you for asking. I was hoping you would. I think we could be friends, if you like.” She shrugged her shoulders in embarrassment. “I mean, with staying at home and all, I don’t get out much. You know, to meet people.”
“I’d like to be your friend,” Lu-Lu said steadily. I was proud of her reaction, though I suspected that inside her dreams were shattered. I felt like crying at her nobility.
“Are you all members of the same church?” Danielle asked.
“Yes, but I wasn’t for a long time,” Simone said. “I had some drug problems to work out, but my family stood by me.”
“I’ve always been curious about religion,” Danielle said. “Sometimes I see those foreign missionaries in the streets with suits and short hair. I almost stopped them once, but I knew Philippe would be angry.”
Marc grinned. “Those are probably our missionaries. We have a lot from America, but a lot from here, too. When I get older, I’m going to go on a mission.” His face darkened, and his voice became very soft. “At least I was. I don’t know if I can, being on dialysis and all.”
It was something I hadn’t thought of. How would his future missionary service be affected if he was tied to a machine every other day for hours on end? Marc’s goal to serve a two-year mission had been an unwavering part of his plans since his childhood; could saving another’s life ruin that hope forever? I wasn’t familiar enough with Church policy to know where they stood on situations like Marc’s.
Danielle frowned, and the room seemed darker because of it. “Oh, I am sorry. If I hadn’t damaged one of my
kidneys, I would gladly give it to you!” How cruel fate had been to Marc, letting two chances slide away!
“What’s done is done,” Simone said kindly, though her voice was gruff.
“We have faith that something will come up,” Lu-Lu said. I thought she might be talking about herself as well. She was keeping her emotions under control, but her eyes begged me to help her escape.
Somehow Lu-Lu made it through the rest of the visit, and we returned to my apartment. Simone left, and Marc retired to his room for a rest. Lu-Lu and I sat on the sofa in the living room, and only then did she vent her feelings.
“Why couldn’t she be cold and uncaring?” Lu-Lu sobbed. “Why does she have to be so . . . so innocent and loving? You can see how much she adores Philippe, and he loves her, too. I think I knew it all along.”
“I thought you said he loved you.”
“He did, and I think he does. But he loves her too; I can tell by the way he talks about her. Plus she’s the mother of his children. They can make it together if I let them.”
She buried her head in my shoulder as the children had done when they were small, crying in earnest now. I looked up to see Marc’s worried face in the doorway. I shook my head at him and raised a warning finger for him to keep silent. He nodded and crept away. Lu-Lu cried harder and clung tighter to me. I put my arms around her and simply rocked back and forth with her on the couch, letting her sob out her grief. I didn’t know what else to do for her. As with Marc’s problem, only time could ease this wound.
Chapter Seventeen
That night, we had Simone’s party. Frédéric beamed as I had never seen him do since his first wife’s death. He was fifty-nine, older than Simone by three years, and his hair was nearly white, contrasting with his darker eyebrows. His dark, expressive eyes were intelligent.
The Ariana Trilogy Page 62
