She rounded on April. “Are you crazy? Why’d you turn that down? I assume he meant it for free.”
“I can’t impose on her,” April protested. “And the truth is, I need to earn some income. Even if I don’t have to pay rent, I need to make ends meet. That’s why I was thinking au pair.”
“Hmm.” Penelope chewed on her lip, thinking. No one rushed her, and after a minute, she did not disappoint. “Then here’s what I propose. You said your door is broken? Let’s go back to your place and get your stuff, and…how much is there?”
Victor answered. “It’s a small chambre de bonne worth of things, and she can store everything she doesn’t need immediately in my spare bedroom.”
“Which shouldn’t anger the fiancée too much,” Penelope mused, though Victor doubted it were true. “April, you can come and stay with me for tonight. I have to make a few phone calls, but I’m sure I can figure out someone who is desperate for an au pair. Do you like kids?”
“Uh…I don’t really know much about them, but as long as there are no diapers involved, I should be able to keep them reasonably safe.”
Victor laughed. “What other credentials could a parent ask for?”
April didn’t protest when Penelope decided to forego her afternoon painting project and help move April’s things into Victor's spare bedroom. As they walked toward the train station, Penelope was on her phone with a former employer, then one cousin after another. Finally, she covered the phone to whisper, “I think I may have something.” She finished the call as they reached the subway station, and she paused at the top of the stairs.
“Our former nanny, Miriam, is about to start a new job. Her husband does quite well, so I think she doesn’t need to work, but a spot opened up in a local private school for a guidance counselor, and she decided to take it. She only needs someone to do after-school pickup and homework in exchange for room and board, and she’s willing to give a generous stipend.”
“Your nanny?” April gulped. “She sounds like a tough act to follow.”
“Aw, you’ll love her. She’s wonderful. The only thing is that her husband’s boss had already recommended someone, and they need to see that through first. So this is not a sure thing. In the meantime, I can put you up for a couple days, but unfortunately not as long as I would like since I’m still living with my parents.”
“I understand,” April said, in a small voice.
Victor followed the instinct that had been dogging his every step and finally put his arm around April. She looked vulnerable and scared at the thought of being an au pair, and he just wanted to comfort her. She leaned into him slightly, which felt good. Penelope eyed him even more shrewdly, and he had to force himself to let go.
“We’d better get on the train, right?” Penelope said. “I promised Miriam I would bring you to see her today if we don’t finish too late. She’s anxious to meet you.”
As they headed down the stairs to the métro, a tall Asian man with handsome features put his hands out to block their path. “April,” he said. “I was just coming to see if you were here. Bonjour, Penelope.” He reached over to kiss her on both cheeks, and turned to do the same to April. Only then did he notice the bruise, which was shadowed in the stairwell.
“Whoa. What happened to you?”
“It’s a long story, Ben, but I’m fine.” He looked skeptical, so she continued. “Honestly, I’d rather not get into it in the public métro station, but I’m fine.”
His questioning gaze settled on Victor, and his mouth turned downwards.
April turned to Victor. “Ben, this is my neighbor, Victor.”
Victor stuck out his hand, and Ben shook it, reluctantly. “The one who showed you the spot for the painting competition that you haven’t let anyone see?”
“The very one,” she replied, attempting a smile. “He’s here to help me find a new place to live.”
“I could have done that,” Benjamin said. “I have contacts in the city, you know.”
“Well, in the end, it’s Penelope who has saved the day. Although, I still have an interview to undergo. We’re about to move my stuff into Victor's apartment—”
“What?” Ben exclaimed, whirling to look at Victor.
“My stuff, Ben. I’ll be staying with Penelope until I can move into my new situation.”
“I’m coming with you,” Ben said. “And I’ll expect to hear the whole story at some point.”
April didn’t answer, and Ben turned to follow the group to the train.
Penelope took charge of the conversation the whole way there. She had a natural-born ability to lead, which made finding her crying in the studio now seem like a distant memory. It was odd that their budding friendship was forged when Penelope was acting so out of character. Perhaps, though, April would never have offered to have coffee with her if Penelope hadn’t shown her vulnerable side.
Victor answered in deep, confident tones and revealed a different side to him than he usually showed April. She couldn’t tell if it was simply because he was French, and he was communicating in his own language, or if Penelope brought out the best in him. Or maybe April was seeing the best in him more and more as their friendship deepened. Honestly, apart from his good looks, her first impression of him left much to be desired. Cynical. Mistrustful. Shallow. That’s what she had thought.
Funny how wrong first impressions could be.
Ben walked at her side in silence, and she felt bad for being short with him earlier. They had spent enough time together in the recent weeks that he deserved more than that. “Thanks for coming with us to help,” she said.
Victor and Penelope were deep in conversation, and Ben shot a look at Victor under his lashes. “Why are you putting your stuff in his apartment? What’s going on, April?”
She sighed. “I was attacked last night. I can’t even believe it was only last night. Victor happened to be there and he scared the guy away. I spent the night in his apartment—” She put her hand on Ben’s arm when he scowled, suddenly bone weary from explanations. “I stayed in his guest room. I was afraid Lucas would come back.”
“Lucas? So you know who attacked you then?”
She began to wish she could have told Penelope and Ben at the same time. It was not an easy story to hash out again and again. “He’s my landlord’s grandson. I stayed with Victor because I was afraid, and it turns out I was right to be. He did come back.”
Ben raised his eyebrows and Victor called out, “Next stop is ours.”
“And?” Ben prompted.
“He destroyed all my father’s paintings.”
“Your father was a painter? You never told me that.”
April got to her feet as the métro slid into the station. “Yes. He was very good.”
The work of shifting her belongings to Victor's spare room was quick with four of them helping. Penelope directed the men to carry the paintings down first, wrapped, and with care, though they were no longer worth anything. Ben paused over each painting before moving them, and he and Victor seemed to have declared an uneasy truce. In the meantime, Penelope helped April to pack one duffel bag to take with her until she could get settled in her new apartment, leaving the winter clothes and some extra things in the larger suitcase.
“Now let’s go get your deposit back,” Penelope said, heading for the landlord’s apartment.
“There’s no way.” April shook her head.
“Let her try,” Victor said, with a small smile. “I’m beginning to think your friend is capable of anything. Here. Let’s stay out of view.”
Penelope knocked on the landlord’s door with a crisp tat tat. There was a shuffle from inside and the sound of the peephole moving. The door opened.
“Yes?”
“Bonjour, madame. I represent Mademoiselle Caleigh, and she will be leaving the apartment now that your grandson attacked her and came back and slashed her priceless paintings. She will need her security deposit returned.”
The old woman slammed
the door shut but was stopped by a designer shoe in the door. “I would advise you to comply quickly and go write her a check for the amount due. What is it? Two month’s rent?” She turned a questioning gaze to April.
“Four,” April said.
“Four!” Penelope whistled under her breath. “Ecoutez, madame. Like I said, you can write a check for the amount you owe Mademoiselle Caleigh, and steer clear of whatever crime your grandson is involved in, or you can face my father in court for improper rental proceedings. You decide.”
“The doorknob is broken. I’ll have to pay someone to repair it,” the grisly old woman complained in a peevish voice.
“True. I suppose it’ll be quite a bit cheaper than paying for the six paintings your grandson destroyed. How much is that, April?”
“Four hundred thousand dollars,” April replied, her voice grim. “Give or take.”
“Four hundred thou…” Penelope’s jaw dropped. “Well, madame. It doesn’t sound like you have much choice.” The four of them waited while Madame Laguerre shuffled down the hall. She came back five minutes later and shoved a check at Penelope.
“She’d better get her things out of the room,” the old lady called after them as they turned toward the stairs. No one replied and she slammed the door.
“Four hundred thousand euros…” Ben said.
“Dollars,” April corrected.
“No wonder you’re upset,” he replied.
“She’s upset because she lost the last remaining link to her father,” Victor interjected.
“Well, yes,” April admitted. “That and the loss of four hundred thousand dollars because I don’t know how I’m going to carry out my plan to study in several countries, much less purchase a ticket home.” When she noticed all three looking at her with somber faces, she added, “But I’ll figure it out.”
Chapter 15
At the entrance to their apartment building, Victor gestured for Ben to follow Penelope out, then turned and took April gently by the shoulders. “I’ll take care of your stuff. So lunch at my grandmother’s house on Tuesday? Let’s meet here at noon.”
April nodded and felt her eyes fill with tears. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“April.” Victor reached up and brushed his fingers on her cheek, too close to the bruise, and he winced in sympathy. “You’re really incredible, you know. I mean, you should have taken my grandmother’s offer, and she may scold you when she sees you.” April smiled through her tears and shrugged, inarticulate.
Victor continued. “But I don’t doubt that you’ll always come right side up, no matter what life hands you. I hope, as your friend, I’ll be there to see it.” Hands still on her face, he leaned down and kissed her gently on each cheek, then reached over to open the door.
April didn’t know what she was feeling when she followed Ben and Penelope, who had fallen into conversation. She missed Victor's presence already. Her cheeks still tingled with his kisses, and her heart was raw, as if it were as bruised as her face. She missed him in the way someone missed a person they loved. But she didn’t love him. She couldn’t.
There had been a crush once in college. Somehow, any kind of crush had escaped her all throughout high school. It was probably because her father had begun to be ill by the time she was sixteen, and care for him occupied all her free hours. In college, she spent guilty hours away from him, knowing she needed her degree, and that in some way this was her sanity too. The art classes let her escape from a difficult reality, and she plunged herself into her work. That was where she’d met Dave.
They spent a lot of time in the art studio, and she never let on that she had any feelings for him because she didn’t want to mess up the friendship. He didn’t seem to notice her in any way other than a classmate and a buddy who shared the same passion. So she stuffed the feelings until one night, when she was working in the studio until one in the morning, he came in from the bar, just tipsy enough to reveal how he felt about her. It turned out he’d been hiding his feelings too. But that was a week before graduation, and they didn’t live anywhere near each other. She knew her father was going to take up all her time once she graduated. Her dad had hung on for years, but his strength was drawing to a close.
April sighed, trailing behind her friends. Her father had died right after she graduated, and she’d had to settle his affairs. It took a year of working through grief and working at the ice cream parlor before she could find enough strength to put his plan into motion. She was accepted into the art school in Paris and left a few months after that, her feelings for Dave a fading memory.
It all came rushing back now. The crush. It was not Dave she thought of, though the feelings were the same. Those tingly sensations that suggested the world had tilted on its axis. She was constantly aware of Victor’s presence, and also comforted by it. April walked along, thankful Penelope and Ben were still lost in their conversation. Her own thoughts were too personal to be shared.
Penelope’s father gave April a reserved, but not unkind, greeting. Her mother was much warmer, kissing April on the cheeks and clucking over her bruised eye. She followed them up to Penelope’s room, on the second floor of the duplex, and indicated a box in the corner. “I had time to bring the air mattress upstairs, but have not blown it up. It should be pretty easy to do, and I’ll go get you some sheets. How long do you need a place to stay?”
April looked at Penelope, who answered for her. “We’re asking Miriam if April can stay there. Miriam decided to take a job at the lycée, and she needs a nanny so we’re going to try that first. If that doesn’t work, we’ll go look at the ads at the American church.”
“I’m sure something will work out.” Her mother stood for an instant, staring at April, then clapped her hands together. “Well, let me go get those sheets.”
“I’m an imposition,” April said, as soon as Penelope’s mom left.
“You’re not,” Penelope insisted, coming over to take April’s bag off her shoulder. “I think…I think my parents are not very happy right now. And I think that’s what’s causing the reserve. This is why I didn’t offer to let you stay longer. But I believe both my parents think it’s the right thing to do to let you stay here until you get on your feet, especially after what’s happened to you. They can agree on that, at least.” Penelope gave a strained smile and opened the box to the air mattress, just as her mother walked in with a set of sheets.
Five days passed. The opportunity with Miriam fell through, and there were few index cards proposing work or housing at the American church. April had followed up on two of them and was waiting to hear back. She went to school and worked on her series of sketches on motion, and began sketching in the figures on her canvas. The portrait was done and ready to be graded as well. April may have been unsettled, but she was not unproductive, and the thought gave her grim satisfaction. In truth, it would be some time before she could find joy again after the loss of her father’s work. She’d had to contact Sotheby’s to let them know the paintings would no longer be for sale. The expert expressed polite sympathy that was painful to hear. By the time their phone call finished, he seemed more interested in sourcing the next lot than her ruined legacy. Yes, April was sad about the lost income, but what hurt was that the hole her father left in the world could so quickly be replaced to everyone but her.
It was time to meet Victor for lunch at his grandmother’s apartment. April went back to her old building, and as she approached it, her heart rate picked up. She hadn’t realized how nervous she would be coming back here. When she crossed a side street to get to their building, a black-headed figure swiveled suddenly to walk the opposite way when he saw her, and she could almost swear it was Lucas. April couldn’t quite make him out as he mingled with the crowd, and he didn’t look back so she could be sure of it. But…surely it wasn’t him? He couldn’t be anywhere near his old residence, where he was most likely to be caught. Her face was troubled when she walked up to their building and saw Victor standing in fr
ont of it.
“April.” A broad smile lit his face and banished her fears, as he leaned down to give her les bises. There was his soapy scent and smooth cheeks, and she thought if she could just breathe it in, it would chase all her fears away. Did he never look unattractive? Her nerves eventually settled as he kept up a steady chatter, and he made her smile by saying that the bruise on her face had faded to a pretty yellow, and that not many girls could pull off such a color combination. Any potential hurt she might feel that he was making light of the event was erased by Victor's leaning over to mutter in her ear, “I wish I could hit him again for hurting you this way.”
As April stepped on the train, she thought she saw the same black-haired figure—she recognized the scarf—stepping on the train several cars down, and her throat went dry. She craned her head to look, but he disappeared into the crowd. No. April shook her head. Enough. It was normal that her imagination would act up, and imagination was all it was.
“Mishou, this is April.” Victor stood to the side at his grandmother’s apartment and allowed April to be drawn in and kissed on both cheeks. His grandmother tugged his hand at the same time, so they were both held and kissed at once. Mishou had a way of breaking through ceremony.
“I’m so delighted to meet you,” April said. She spoke French in her horrible American accent, but his grandmother did not appear to notice, and Victor was charmed that April was trying.
“For me, it’s the same,” Mishou said and, patting Victor's cheek, added, “I’ve long waited for Victor to bring home a nice girl, and he finally has.” Victor’s face heated up, and he hoped April didn’t understand everything. He didn’t want her to think this had any special significance attached to it, never mind that it felt like it did.
Apparently, April had understood perfectly. “Il n’a pas ramené Margaux?” she asked, with a crease in her brows. It was difficult to make out what she was saying, but her grandmother grasped the name at least.
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