Luke nodded and came back shortly, reaching toward her with a glass. "It's ginger ale, Miss. It settles the tummy."
She nodded and gamely drank it before putting her head back down on the pillow. Marga and I ate and she chattered about school and how excited she was for the trip. This was the way I loved to see her; happy an animated instead of fearful and reclusive. She should always be this happy. Marga gave Lillie a mile by mile description of what lay out the window and I could hear Lillie groaning softly as the visions entered her frightened mind. She was lying back against the white leather of the sofa, her dark hair fanned out behind her. She put me in mind of a favorite doll with which I’d like to play.
Eventually the excitement died down, and as Marga’s normal bedtime approached, I gave Luke the nod and he carried in an armload of pillows and blankets. “Marga, get your pajamas and change in the bathroom right there. Then you can get some sleep and when you wake up, we’ll be in Paris.”
She did as she was told as I bent down and bundled up Lillie and took her into the stateroom. I closed the door and undressed her, putting one of my shirts on her to sleep in. I tucked her into the far side of the bed and climbed in next to her. She snuggled back against me. That had become my favorite place and time of the day.
Chapter 11
Lillie
I was embarrassed by my behavior on the jet. I’d needed more taking care of than Marga did! With all that was going on with the move and the start of a relationship, it just hadn’t occurred to me what was involved in flying. I was lucky that I’d gotten a passport one day just on the off chance that I might need it sometime.
Chris was his normal, caring self and I realized his attitude was what gave me strength and a feeling of security. I wanted to be that for him, too. I knew he never wanted to marry, but when you decide to go it alone, you lose out on many of the best things in life. I only had to look at my parents to see that. They got through the rough spots because they had one another. I had that same sort of draw toward Chris—I wanted him to know that he could depend on my support, no matter what happened.
He’d awakened me with a kiss as we touched down at Charles de Gaulle Airport. “We’re here, sweetheart. Better get dressed and pull yourself together. We’ll go straight to the hotel and have breakfast there. It’s still early.”
I peeked cautiously toward the window and saw that, indeed, it was dark outside. “How do you know it’s Paris? It’s all dark out there.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” he laughed. I pay my pilots pretty well to get me to the right place. C’mon sleepyhead… unless you want to go back up and fly around a little more?”
“No, no, I’m up, I swear. Just stay on the ground,” I protested, rolling off the mattress. I heard Chris chuckle. He left the stateroom and I heard his voice tenderly urging Marga to wake up, too. Her sleepy little voice was arguing until she realized where she was and then the perky personality returned in full force.
We disembarked and were met by a limo that sailed through the still-dark Parisian streets until we came to the Park Hyatt Paris. We followed the bellman into the elevator and disembarked on the fourth floor. Chris had engaged one of the Residence Suites, giving Marga her own room at one end and Chris and I would share a room at the other.
Marga was skipping around, her small face plastered against the window glass as she surveyed the courtyard below and the skyline beyond. “I think I can see the tower!” she exclaimed, and Chris chuckled.
“I don’t think so, Marg… there are an awful lot of buildings in the way.”
“Oh, no, Uncle Chris, I’m sure I can see it! I can also see the baby Jesus!”
Chris nodded. “Yes, here in France, it’s a tradition to display the Nativity, where Jesus was born, all the way up until February second, I believe it is. That’s forty days after Christmas. So, if we were still here in February, you would still see that Nativity.”
I stood in the center of the room, a little bit in shock. I’m really in Paris! was all I could think. I stared at the appointments of the suite. It was all so…so…French! Although everything around us was sleek and modern, the charm of the city couldn’t be ignored. I couldn’t wait to stroll the streets, poke through the shops and maybe even sample some real French pastries.
Chris seemed very pleased with the situation—genuinely happy we were there with him. “Tell you what,” he suggested. “Let’s have breakfast here in the suite. I have a meeting and I thought you two ladies would like to take a long bath or a little nap and when I’m done, we can go out and do the town. Tonight, we’ll have dinner at a world-famous restaurant. What do you say?”
“Uncle Chris, will you be gone all day?” Marga asked anxiously. I could tell she wanted to get started and I felt the same.
“I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours,” he assured us. There was a knock at the door and in came a waiter with a cart filled with covered dishes. “Well, right on cue,” he commented, and we waited while the waiter set the small, marble-topping dining table with white linen, sleek silver service and a bouquet of fresh flowers. He stood by, waiting for us to be seated and then presented each platter, removing the lid and holding it toward Chris for his approval. “Just put it all on the table, thank you very much,” Chris told him. “We can serve ourselves. Thank you, you may go now.”
I felt as if I’d been transported to another world. If ever there was a time when my Chicago upbringing could be considered small town, that was it. I’d never spent time with people who had money. They behave in a different way. They took things for granted that occupied my worries, including even the most personal concerns such as doing laundry or running a bath. Even Marga seemed more comfortable in that atmosphere than I felt. I wasn’t sure whether I liked it, or whether it made me feel more uncomfortable than it was worth. I decided I would just be myself and let Chris’s world fill in around me.
After breakfast, Chris followed me into the bedroom and closed the door.
“Listen, Lillie, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about, but I want you to promise me that you won’t take this it as criticism. Can we be that open with one another?”
“Yes, I don’t know why not.” I braced myself for whatever was coming. I was sure it was going to sting.
“I know that you lead a quiet life and probably haven’t had the need for a huge wardrobe. I’m trying to frame this the best way that I know how without insulting you.”
“I think what you’re trying to say, is that I’m not dressed properly for Paris?”
“Well…” He winced, and I could tell he’d rather be doing anything but having that conversation with me. “It’s my fault, you know, I invited you on this trip and didn’t even take into consideration how a female plans for such things. I took you by surprise. Anyway, let me just get this out.” He reached into his pocket and held out a credit card. “No, I don’t want you to be offended or to think of this as anything other than my wanting to be good to you. I would like it very much if you and Marga would spend a portion of your day shopping for clothes. For the both of you, of course. You aren’t to look at any price tags or bypass any shops because you think they’re too expensive. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Are you sending me on a shopping spree?”
“You can see I’m not having an easy time of this. I want you to have everything your heart desires and I know that your budget doesn’t allow that. I want to buy these things for you, not because I expect anything in return, but because it would make me damned happy to see you happy and for you to indulge yourself in the fashion that for which Paris is so well known. Marga might need a few things, but I’d like you to spend the bulk of the day on yourself.” He was tense; I could see the muscle jerking in his jaw.
I smiled and shook my head. “You are simply unbelievable, you know that? Here you are handing me what every girl dreams of and apologizing for doing it. You’re a special person, Chris. I’m going to make this easy on you. I know that my clo
thes are what the sheltered girl who grew up in Chicago bakery wears. I don’t want you to be ashamed of me, and if we were in Chicago in my old neighborhood, you wouldn’t be. But here, I can see your point. Let me just say thank you. I will go out and do a little shopping, but you need to know that I won’t buy anything that I couldn’t also wear in Chicago, in the right situation. That would just go against my sensibilities. I’m a practical gal,” I pointed out and hoped he understood.
“I know where you’re going, and actually, that’s one of the things I like about you. You’re well-grounded and certainly not frivolous. But just this once, for me, please indulge yourself. Consider it a Christmas present from me, if you like.”
I shrugged in acceptance and smiled, reaching upward to wrap my arms around his neck. “Thank you,” I whispered into his ear.
“Jesus, when you do that you make you want to take you into that bed. But I’ve got to go, I have appointments waiting. My driver will accompany you and Marga and wait outside each shop. When you’re hungry, indulge yourself. Marga certainly won’t give you any arguments. Then tonight, I’ll take you to one of my favorite restaurants and you can people watch while you enjoy what I think is some of the world’s finest cuisine.”
“You seem to know a lot about food?”
He looked away quickly and I wondered why. “I took some culinary classes while I was in school,” he finally said, and I accepted it, but I could tell there was more to the story. I let it go. It was his story to tell.
“Okay, I’ve got to run.” He gave me a quick kiss, slapped me lightly on the behind and grabbed his briefcase as he left the room. I heard the outer door close and a moment later, Marga’s tiny hand was tapping at the bedroom door.
“Lillie?” came her small voice. “Uncle Chris says we’re going shopping?”
“Come in, Marga.” I patted my hand on the mattress next to me. “Come on up here let’s talk about it.” She gleefully leapt onto the bed and settled down to listen.
“Yes, you and I are going to spend the day together. Uncle Chris well, that is, Chris, has given us an unlimited budget and as young ladies, it’s up to you and me to go out and enjoy ourselves. Do you think you can handle that?”
Her eyes glowed. “Oh, yes, I can do that. Mommy has taught me how.” Her voice was matter-of-fact and yet conspiratorial.
“I think before we go, I would like it if you would call your mom and let her know that we are here safely so she doesn’t worry. You can use my phone. Then, I think maybe we should both lay down for a little nap since we didn’t get much sleep last night on the plane. After that, you take a bath and I’ll take my shower and we’ll get going. How’s that?”
Marga nodded, clapping her hands in expectation. “Lillie?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think Uncle Chris would mind if maybe we stopped by a toy store? Mommy told me that the French dolls are the most beautiful in the world.”
“Well, we can stop by a toy store, but Santa is coming very soon, and he may already have plans for you. You have been a good girl, haven’t you?”
Marga nodded, a huge smile on her face but it turned sad immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s only one thing I want from Santa.”
“What’s that?” I put my arm around her, expecting to hear that she wanted a pony.
“I wish my daddy and mommy would not fight so much.”
I thought my heart would break. Chris was right on the mark. Whatever was going on between her parents was certainly having an effect on her. Even though I barely knew Marga, I felt her sadness and wanted to help. Of course, that’s exactly why I was there, to watch over her while Chris tended to business. I was a little ashamed of myself for having reacted badly to his initial invitation. I hadn’t understood then how much of Marga’s world he was trying to improve.
“Don’t you worry, honey. While you’re here with Uncle Chris and me, your mommy and daddy are spending time together and I’m sure when you get home, they’ll be so glad to have you back and everything will be much better.” I pinched myself, hoping I wasn’t overpromising. She couldn’t feel any worse than she did at that moment and if there was anything I could do for her, it was to lighten her heart so she could go shopping with the frivolous attitude that a ten-year-old girl should have. She deserved that. “Now, you run along and have that nap and I’ll come in an hour or so to wake you up for your bath.”
“Thank you, Lillie,” she said, getting to her knees and throwing her arms around my neck. She gave me a huge kiss on the cheek and I hugged her back before she scampered out of my room, politely closing the door gently behind herself.
I laid down on the bed and pulled a pillow to hug against my chest. Marga had gained another champion in me.
Chapter 12
Christopher
I was starting to regret that I’d brought Lillie with me. I felt like an ass. I hadn’t been up front with her about the nature of my business and how our paths had crossed without her even knowing it. I told myself it was a companion for Marga, but I knew I was lying. I knew I’d brought her for myself, because I wanted to spend time with her and to show her the beauty of Europe.
Women had been little more than an adornment for me. I never abused their trust, never took advantage of them. Anything that had ever happened between another woman and myself was by mutual consent and neither of us had any expectations about the future. I was trying very hard to put Lillie into that role, but could feel myself losing sight of how that role was defined. I’d brought Marga to Europe with us to give her a break from what had to be a miserable household. I felt protective of her. Now, I was also feeling protective of Lillie, and I wondered why. The logical side of me argued that she was capable of taking care of herself; that she was young and beautiful and would easily find someone to look after her. The selfish side of myself didn’t want that to ever happen. I didn’t want anyone to take care of her, except me. I hated sticky things about a relationship. Part of my success was due to the fact that I had been freewheeling, able to economize when I needed to. I could take risks when there was no wife at stake. I couldn’t do that if someone else depended on me.
Then there was the situation with my brother and his wife. I didn’t want what they had, even though it meant not having Marga. I didn’t want the cat and mouse game, the manipulation, the jealousy and the loss of affection when you didn’t behave according to code. I wanted to be better than that.
I suspected, with Lillie it would be different. She was like me. While her family life may have been more normal, she knew the value of the dollar and she had the ambition to want more from herself. It was the ambition part that attracted me the most. If you don’t keep moving forward, you die. She understood that. I suspected she was, or at least believed herself, to be a little in love with me. I felt the same about her. The question was whether it was infatuation or was there a true basis for how each of us felt? It wasn’t something I could answer on my own, and I hated these messy introspective deliberations.
“We’re just going to have a good time,” I told myself aloud. After all, Christmas was nearly there and we were in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. There was so much to celebrate and so many ways to do it. Why throw a blanket of worry on top — it would only smother it.
I was en route to Chambelland Boulangerie, known as one of the top five bakeries in Paris. I’d spoken with the owners months earlier, when planning my trip. They were interested in production tips from an American point of view and I was interested in the recipes and their fine grasp of the art of presentation.
Jock and Pierre were brothers, the third generation to run Chambelland Boulangerie. I towered over them and immediately sensed their defensive stance, which was unfortunate. Our meeting was stilted, and I didn’t accomplish anywhere close to what I had intended. It went through my mind that had Lillie been with me, she would’ve disarmed them both and things would’ve proven more valuable. As I left
their combination factory and showroom, I was reminded that as far as Lillie was concerned, I could be selling garbage cans or basketball goals for all she knew. She had no idea that I knew as much about her business as she did, well almost. What a wonderful pair we would make if we had been in sync. However, we weren’t, and that was my fault. It was something I wanted to remedy, if only to ease my conscience. I wasn’t sure what I could do on this trip. I risked that she would become angry and that would make traveling unbearable for her.
I found a sidewalk café where I could stop to drink a latte and put some thoughts down on paper. After I ordered, I telephoned my attorney
“It’s Chris,” I identified myself, although he knew by the caller ID.
“Yes, Chris. How is Paris?”
“Confusing. Probably not what you needed to hear but I should’ve put this trip off until after the holidays when I had more things firmed up in the States. But there’s nothing like Paris at Christmas time, so I’m here to take advantage of the tradition and beauty.”
“Right now you don’t sound like much of a tourist. Relax and take it easy. I’ve got things at this end.”
Including what we talked about yesterday?”
“All taking care of.”
“Good. Overnight me the paperwork.”
“Will do.”
Chapter 13
Lillie
We’d called Daphne to let her know where we were staying and that all was well. Marga was bouncing around in excitement to get started on our outing, so I took the phone. “There, now do you have the number?”
“Yes, it’s on my caller I.D. I appreciate you keeping me updated. Corey isn’t home, but I’ll let him know.” Her voice was dismal in tone and I wondered briefly if they’d had another fight.
“Marga is having a wonderful time and I think Chris has all sorts of plans. Just take care of yourself and relax, huh?” I barely knew her, but women were a sisterhood when it came to looking out for one another. Perhaps we dreaded that we might end up in the same situation at some point and would need our own support network.
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