by Terri DuLong
I shook my head in amazement. “And nobody suspected the afghans, because back then most housewives hung blankets and linens out the windows to freshen them, right?”
“That’s right. It was a very clever plan.”
“But still dangerous,” I said. “Weren’t you scared? You had a small child yourself?”
Madame Leroux fingered the linen napkin beside her coffee cup. “Yes, my Jean-Luc wasn’t quite two years old, but my husband and I both had made the decision together to do this. And yes . . . many times, I was scared, should I be caught.”
I let out a deep breath and then asked, “Then why? Why did you take such a risk to do this?”
“Because it was . . . women . . . women helping women,” she said. “Because . . . it was the right thing to do, no?”
Tears stung my eyes as I reached over, clasped Madame Leroux’s hand, gave it a squeeze, and whispered, “Yes . . . it was the right thing to do.”
33
Saturday afternoon I was sitting at a sidewalk café near my apartment enjoying a cup of coffee. The weather had stayed unusually mild, and this always brought out Parisians looking to soak up any sun that they could on the terraces of the cafés. I had plans to go to Annette’s apartment around three. I had spoken with Worth and my mother, and they had both convinced me to at least go and see the kitten.
As I sat there sipping coffee, my mind wandered to my mother and her first-time love, Julian Cole. This was the city he had come to, to escape the wrongful prejudice that had gripped America during the early 1950s. And because of that, my mother had been forced to let go and move forward with her own life, forgiving Julian in the process.
I thought of my mother’s best childhood friend, Annalou Carter. How lost and alone that poor girl must have felt to resort to taking her life. And I thought of my mother and the years she had carried her guilt because of a false judgment. The heartache and pain she had endured until, finally, she had learned to forgive herself.
And I thought of Blanche Leroux—to protect the lives of countless children, she had risked her own life and those of her family, because, as she said, it was the right thing to do. But in addition to protecting the children, she was also helping the women, the frightened mothers of those children.
Down through the ages women had bonded and connected, sharing interests, social events, but most of all friendship. The friendship itself was a form of helping another woman. Perhaps a phone call or e-mail to brighten her day, a shopping spree or lunch when a woman might most need a diversion, something as simple as a shoulder to cry on or an ear that would listen.
I now thought of Fiona Caldwell, a young woman of nineteen. A woman who was obviously reaching out, trying to learn and make sense of her identity, of her life. A woman who, through no fault of her own, was the result of two adults not doing the right thing.
I let out a deep sigh before taking the last sip of my coffee. I wasn’t sure if I had entirely forgiven Andrew for his infidelity. I wasn’t sure if the hurt and betrayal would ever fully disappear. But one thing I did know for certain—I felt compelled to do the right thing. And the right thing would be to call Fiona, find out if she had plans for Christmas, and if not, invite her to Cedar Key to meet her brothers.
Before I could change my mind, I rummaged through my bag, found the slip of paper with Fiona’s number, grabbed my cell, and placed the call.
After three rings, she answered.
“Fiona? This is Marin Kane. How are you?”
I hadn’t been very cordial to her on the previous call, so I was surprised by the friendliness in her tone.
“Oh, Marin. How nice to hear from you. I’m fine . . . and you?” she asked, but now I could hear a bit of hesitancy in her voice.
“I’m good. Actually . . . I’m in Paris for a couple weeks, and . . .”
“Like in Paris, France?” she said, interrupting me.
I couldn’t suppress a grin. “Yes, like in Paris, France. I needed some time away, and, well . . . here I am. But the reason I’m calling . . . I was wondering if you had any plans for Christmas.”
“Plans?” she asked, like she had no idea what the word meant.
“Are you going to a friend’s house or someplace to spend Christmas?”
“Oh. No. No, I’m not. My roommate is going up to Vermont over the holidays for a ski trip, but . . . no, I won’t be going. I’ll just stay here in the apartment.”
My mother had been right, and I instantly felt a mixture of both shame and sadness that this girl would be completely alone on Christmas Day.
“Well, I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, Fiona. And I’d like to invite you to come and stay with us for Christmas. I don’t know when you’d have to be back in the Boston area, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”
There was a few moments’ silence, and then she said, “Really? You’d really like me to come there? So you’ve told your sons about me and they want to meet me?”
Oh, Lord. Jason and John had escaped my mind before I’d placed the spur-of-the-moment call.
“Ah, actually . . . no. I haven’t had a chance yet to discuss this with the boys. But I will. I’m staying at my mother’s home at the moment. I’m in the process of purchasing my own home on the island, but I won’t be moving in till the week after Christmas. But my mother does know about you, and she suggested perhaps you’d like to come and stay with us.”
“Gosh, that’s so nice of her. I would. I’d love to come. I’ll have to make flight arrangements. What would be the best airport to fly into?”
“You should try to get a Delta flight out of Boston to Atlanta, where you’ll switch to another flight into Gainesville.”
“Okay. I’m writing this down.” There was a pause. “And when I get to the Gainesville airport, will I be able to rent a car there to drive to Cedar Key? How long a drive will it be?”
“It’s about an hour’s drive, but . . . no, don’t rent a car. You can walk everywhere around the island, so you won’t need one. And . . . I’ll pick you up, Fiona.”
“You will?”
I was positive that was excitement I heard in those two words.
“That’s really nice of you. Okay. Well, I’ll get started working to book a flight. Oh, when do you want me to arrive?”
Good question. I grabbed the datebook out of my bag, scanning the December calendar. Bella was coming in on December 22; the boys were arriving the next day. God, that didn’t leave me much time.
“I know this is cutting it close, but is there any chance you could try and book a flight for the twenty-fourth?”
“Oh, Christmas Eve. Gee, I’ll feel like Santa flying through the sky,” she said, causing me to smile. “Yes, I’ll call the airline right now. Do you want me to call you back on this number?”
“I have plans for this afternoon. How about if I call you back later this evening your time?”
“That sounds great. Oh . . . and Marin?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. So much.”
I heard the line disconnect, and it was then it occurred to me that booking a flight three weeks before Christmas might be quite pricey. Well, I’d discuss that with her when I called her back.
With the excellent Métro system that Paris has, I easily found my way to Annette’s apartment, which was located in the residential area of the seventeenth arrondissement.
I looked down at the ball of fur that I had cuddled against my chest. “He’s adorable,” I said. And he was. The moment that Annette had placed the kitten in my hands, I knew it was love at first sight, and I had instantly become the new owner of this particular Maine coon kitten.
“Does that mean you’ll be taking him home?”
I nodded and nuzzled my chin against the top of his head. “Absolutely. This little guy is going to have a new home in Cedar Key, Florida.”
Annette smiled. “That’s wonderful. I know Worth is arriving on Tuesday for almost a week. Would you like to leave the ki
tten here till the day before you fly back? I’m sure you’ll be out and about a lot, and you’ll have to purchase a cat carrier for the flight.”
“That would be great. I’ll come over a week from tomorrow to get him.” I sat on the sofa to take a sip of coffee, allowing the kitten to curl up in my lap, and glanced at the gorgeous mother cat. Céline was a beautiful champagne and white color. “Are you going to miss your baby?” I asked her.
Annette laughed. “Probably not. I think three months with four active kittens was enough for her. She’s probably looking forward to a break. Do you have a name picked out yet?”
“His name is going to be Toulouse,” I told her. “For the town and also for the painter Toulouse-Lautrec. I just like the name.”
“Oh, I love it. That’s perfect. And how nice that you chose a French name, based on his heritage.”
I laughed. “Then Toulouse it is.”
As if understanding his new name, the kitten looked up at me, blinked, and gave a soft trill. “I think he likes his name too.”
Annette and I went out for dinner to a restaurant in her neighborhood, and by the time I got back to the apartment it was after eight.
I placed a call to my mother first.
“My goodness,” she said, after I had shared my news with her. “A lot has happened today. I think you made the right decision about Fiona. That poor girl would have been alone on Christmas, so I’m glad you invited her.”
It was then that I realized Bella would have the guest room. “Oh, no. Where on earth will we put Fiona? I hadn’t even thought of that when I invited her.”
“Not a problem. I have the daybed in my knitting room. I think she’ll be quite comfortable in there.”
“That’s right. Okay, that problem’s settled. The boys arrive the day before she does . . . so that’s when I plan to break the news to them.”
“I don’t think you need to worry about that either, Marin. I think the boys will surprise you in their acceptance of this news.”
I twirled a piece of yarn from the skein next to me around my finger. “I hope you’re right.”
“And I’m so glad you decided to purchase the Maine coon kitten. I adore Maude’s cat.”
“Do you think Oliver will be okay with Toulouse for a few weeks till I move into my house?”
“Yes, of course. Oliver likes cats. That won’t be a problem at all. And Worth arrives this Tuesday, right?”
“Yes,” I said and felt my heart beat a little faster at the thought of seeing him. “Is the work going okay there?”
“Wonderful. I know you’ll be pleased. The screened area is all completed. Worth did a beautiful job. He doesn’t have very much more to do inside the carriage house, and the fellows will be starting the roof work on Tuesday. I’d say we’re right on track for you to open early January.”
“That’s great news. Well, I need to call Fiona and see if she was able to book a flight. I’ll give you a call during the week. Love you,” I said, before disconnecting and then dialing Fiona’s number.
I could tell by the way she said, “Hi, Marin,” that she had been successful booking a flight. She told me she was confirmed for Christmas Eve and would arrive in Gainesville at twelve-thirty. I could hear the excitement in her voice.
“Oh, that’s great you were able to get a seat. But listen, I’m sure it was quite costly booking pretty much last minute. I’d like to help you with the price of the ticket.”
“Absolutely not. I had the money. Really. So call me after you get home and settled in and we’ll make the final arrangements for you to pick me up.”
After I hung up, I continued sitting on the sofa thinking. It crossed my mind that for the first time in a long time, I felt really good. I also realized that everybody had been correct—with Andrew now deceased, it wasn’t about him at all. That was the past. What I needed to focus on was the present. And that included his daughter, Fiona.
34
When Tuesday morning arrived, in addition to being excited about seeing Worth, I found that I was also nervous, and I wasn’t sure why. He was easy to be with. I enjoyed his company. Could it be because being alone, without him, I had discovered how much I missed him? And that led me to realize how much my feelings for him had increased?
I pushed these thoughts aside and gazed at the recipe card that Madame Leroux had given me. She had mentioned how much Worth loved cassoulet, and I had decided to shop for all the fresh ingredients the day before and surprise him with a home-cooked dinner the evening of his arrival. After I showered and dressed, I planned to put it all together in the earthenware casserole to place in the oven later that afternoon, so that it could cook for the required three hours.
Finishing up my coffee and toast, I headed to the shower and then took extra time with my hair and makeup. My new cut and highlights from the stylist at Galeries Lafayette were very becoming, and I admired myself once again in the mirror and smiled, wondering if Worth would notice. I had also indulged in an array of new makeup suggested by the woman at the L’Oréal counter. I decided to wear my blue cashmere sweater, accented with a cotton lace scarf the color of cornflowers, and black slacks. I twirled around in front of the cheval mirror and nodded to myself. Not bad, I thought. I looked rested. The new hairstyle and makeup had done wonders to diminish the dragged-out look I had been seeing all year. And I could be wrong, but I swore my overall appearance now had a youthful quality, more vibrant, perky.
Just before noon, I stood in the living room surveying my efforts. Two vases of fresh flowers from the local florist—one on the kitchen table and one in the living room. The cassoulet sat ready on the counter to be popped into the oven in a few hours. Edith Piaf was softly drifting from the CD player. Gosh, if I didn’t know better, I would think a bit of seduction was in the works.
A few minutes later I heard a key in the lock and saw Worth walk through the door. Okay. I admit it. My heart did a flip-flop and I know that the huge grin I felt on my face matched his.
“Hi,” he said, leaving his luggage by the door and walking toward me, making me feel like a giddy teenager.
“Hi,” I replied, feeling his arms around me as he pulled me into a tight embrace.
I felt his lips on mine. Gentle, little pecks before the kiss became deeper, more meaningful, and when he pulled away to hold me at arm’s length, I was having a hard time catching my breath.
He cocked his head to one side. “You look gorgeous,” he said, and with those three little words he made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. “I’m not sure what you’ve done, but I like it.”
He pulled me close again, nuzzled his chin in my neck, and whispered, “I missed you. A lot.”
I relished the feeling that he created inside me and nodded. “I missed you too. A lot,” I whispered back.
After a few moments, he stepped back again and took my hand. “So. I take it you enjoyed staying in my apartment? I like the flowers,” he said, nodding toward both vases.
I liked that he was so observant. He had immediately noticed my hair and makeup and now the flowers.
“I did enjoy your apartment very much, and coming here was a good thing for me. I needed that time alone. You were right. I needed to be on my own, away from home, so that I could think straight.” Without even hesitating, I reached up to touch his cheek. “But I’m glad you’re here. The apartment was empty without you.”
The sexy smile he gave me made me know that he was just as happy to be here. With me.
He gave my hand a squeeze. “I’m going to go get unpacked, and then we’ll figure out what we’re doing for the rest of the day. Sound good?” he asked, heading to get his luggage and walking into the smaller bedroom.
“Sounds great,” I said. “But if you’re tired, don’t let me stop you from taking a nap.”
“Never.” He swung the luggage onto the bed and began removing items and placing them in the bureau drawer. “But is there a chance you have some fresh coffee?”
; “I do. You unpack and I’ll go get us a cup.”
I had made a stop that morning at the boulangerie after the florist, bringing back some flaky croissants, which I now placed on a plate. The sun was shining, and I went to open the French doors in the living room. Standing there breathing in the air, I couldn’t help but feel that the universe was in perfect alignment. Yes, it had been a very difficult year, but my intuition told me things were on an upward climb.
I felt Worth’s arms go around my waist as he kissed the back of my neck, and I smiled. I wasn’t used to such affection, and I realized that although I wasn’t used to it, the lack of this simple intimacy was something I had missed my entire married life.
“It’s beautiful out,” Worth said. “Let’s have the coffee in the garden. Did you sit out here much?”
I shook my head as I passed him the plate of croissants, and I picked up the coffee mugs, following him outside. “This is the first time I’m sitting out here. I had the doors open a few times, but I never actually came out to sit.” I looked around the small area surrounded by bushes and plants that looked like they were going into their winter hibernation.
“You were saving it for me,” he said. “So you’ve had a good time here, haven’t you?”
I nodded. “I have. I visited all the museums that I wanted to, enjoyed the sidewalk cafés, got most of my Christmas shopping done, and very much enjoyed seeing Paris all decorated for the holidays. It’s been perfect. And I’m even going home with a Maine coon cat.”
Worth took a sip of coffee and laughed. “I’m glad you’re taking one of Annette’s kittens. Céline is a wonderful cat, and I think you’ll be very happy with Toulouse. We’ll go shopping tomorrow to get his travel case and whatever else you’ll need.”
