Chapter Eighteen #2
“So then why do I need to be concerned about your domestic situation?”
“Because it could potentially affect your life too. Why else?” We passed through the lacy iron gates into the park and followed the wide path. A light, high breeze rustled through the trees. At that hour, almost everyone was having dinner, and so we nearly had the place to ourselves.
“Is having a family such a burden?”
His eyes dimmed then. “Yes, honestly. It is. And I hate to draw attention to it, but it’s something I know quite a bit about.”
“And you don’t recommend it?”
“Ha. No, it’s not that. I love my family. But I want what you want for yourself. I don't want you to think of me as some misogynist looking for someone to take care of his house and home. I know you don’t want that.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I thought you were that kind of man, would I?”
“I don’t claim to know the depths of your naivety, darling.”
“I can’t lie to you, Benoit, it’s quite deep.”
“Well, I don’t want to be the man to disappoint you.”
“Then don’t.”
We left the wide promenade for a smaller path under the trees, heading toward the pond.
The air was clear and the trees seemed to go on forever.
It was a lovely late summer day, a hint of coolness in the air, a suggestion of the coming change in seasons.
When we came to the pond, where the marble colonnade stood, we sat on a bench facing the water.
The fading sun sparkled and shone red and orange on the reflective surface.
A frog started singing from somewhere, then stopped again.
Benoit put his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into his warm, comforting body.
He played with an errant strand of my hair for a moment and then tipped my face up to his.
When his lips met mine, I put my hands on his shoulders and pulled him closer.
He was incredible. An incredible man who was doing this to me, making me these promises.
His breath was sweet and his mouth was insistent.
I let my hands wander his body—one up the back of his neck and through his hair, the other down his chest and around his waist, under his jacket, feeling his heat through the fabric of his vest and shirt.
This was no longer the kiss of hello. It was the kiss of something more to come. Hopefully soon.
He pulled away to look me in the eyes. “I missed you terribly, Vanessa.”
“Oh, my goodness! I didn’t know what missing someone was until you.”
He leaned back against the bench and resettled his arm on my shoulder.
All I wanted was to keep kissing him. But we were in public, after all, even if we were more or less alone with the frogs.
But just sitting there with him, gazing at the scene before us, was so calming and fortifying.
There really was something to having someone, to being in love.
The world somehow seemed less daunting, more peaceful in a way. It was silly, but it was true.
Chez Lunette was a brasserie across the street from the far edge of the park, an easy walk from our bench. While headed that way, I asked about Apolline’s daughter and how things were going at home. And he told me what a tremendous help Collette had turned out to be.
“My sister said she prayed last night that she’ll stay with us through the duration. And Maman absolutely loves her. They haven’t quarreled yet.”
“That’s wonderful. Do you think it will last?”
“I’m sure there will be some difficulties. There always are when people are involved. But I’m hopeful it will all be fine.”
“I am too.”
I’d passed Chez Lunette on my bicycle many times, and from that fast moving view, I had noticed dim lighting and lush flowers on every table, couples cuddled together at small tables.
But I’d never considered trying it, or I never had the occasion.
A narrow awning shaded the door and flower boxes perched underneath the front window.
Today they were filled with mums and long green vines of ivy.
The maitre d’ led us to a cozy table in the front window, where the darkening park that we’d just left spread out across the street.
The server brought our wine and bread and one delicious course at a time.
It was simple food, familiar but dressed up just enough to feel special.
And dessert was the best part. We ordered and shared a piece of chocolate cake and a slice of almond tart.
As we were finishing up, though, our conversation shifted to work. I told him about the story I sent to La Fronde and how Charlotte had mentioned me to her editor there. It was a woman’s magazine, run by actual women.
“Do you want another staff position?”
“I don’t know. Everything about work has always been so clear for me, but now it isn’t clear at all. It’s hard because nothing that I was working toward matters anymore. I was going to be someone. I was the first woman reporter at the L’Entreprise . But I quit.”
“You didn’t quit. You broke away from a faulty institution—I’m one of the editors now, I can say that with authority—and you’re blazing your own trail.”
“So you think it’s a faulty institution?”
“I’ve never denied it. I don’t like what they did to your paper.
I don’t like that they tend not to take women seriously.
But the truth is they might never have given you what you deserve.
” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand; the candlelight flickered in his eyes.
“You can do anything you want. You can travel to wherever you want, see whatever you want. And I want to help you do that. I want to give you assignments and let you roam around and write whatever you want about the things you see and the people you meet. I don’t want to tie you down to an overwhelming domestic situation, which is all I can offer you if we continue this romantic relationship. ”
“So why can’t it be both, then? Why can’t you send me away on assignment and wait for me to get back?”
He smiled with such hopeful joy; it was a smile like I’d never seen on him before. Like I just made his day. Made his life. “I want nothing more than that. If you’ll have me. I said as much before.”
“That’s what I want. Regardless of what I said before. I want you. I want everything you can offer. All of it. All of you.”
“Well, you’ll have to give me a few minutes to catch up because this is all news to me.”
“I am sorry about that.”
“I know. You don’t have to apologize. It’s all in the past. I am so happy that you’re here now.”
When we finished dinner, we went outside and found a cab.
And on the short trip from the seventeenth to the Tower, he made quick work of getting his hand up my skirt.
All the passion from those nights in the hotel returned with full force.
Only now, there was no question for me that he was what I wanted.
A friendship, an intimacy, having him—all of him—in my life, whatever it looked like, whatever job I was doing.
“I’m in love with you, you know.”
“Are you? I was hoping you might be, or would be one day.”
“Oh, no—it’s been going on for some time. And I fought hard. But I think the moment you opened the door to your apartment, when we came to pick you up to go to Cabourg, and you were there in your home, with your family. I think I fell in love with you then.”
“You did?”
“I think so yes.”
“Well, as you may know, I’ve always liked you. Ever since I first laid eyes on you at the theater. But I went from attracted to mad with love when you tried to kick me out of your chair at the paper.”
“You did not. My behavior was awful.” I didn’t even like thinking about how terrible I’d been.
“No, no. I knew right then.”
“But I was so sure I hated you, and that you hated me.”
“I’ve been hoping this whole time that you’d come around. And now here you are.”
“Here I am.”
“I’ve missed you, my darling. Your presence. Your company. Your hands. Your hands touching me. Your face.” He kissed me again.
He was right about us, that we belonged together, that I could have everything I wanted, and he could help me get it.
He’d envisioned the whole thing perfectly because I would start doing travel writing assignments for L’Entreprise .
He would become my editor and my husband, and no matter how far away or how fascinating the experiences I had, he was my home.
And although I might never have expected it to happen to the likes of me, home would tug at my heart when I wasn’t there.
Eventually, I would get tired of traveling too, and we would settle down properly then.
But it all started with seeing what would happen, over and over again. And deciding he was the one every time.
The Tower had recently been outfitted with electric lights and updated elevators.
Benoit held my hand as we took the new elevators from the bottom to the first and then second levels, where there were restaurants and shops for souvenirs.
Even in the dark, sightseers crowded the platform.
But as we rose from the second level to the top, the city and all the people and hustle and bustle seemed to fall away.
There were people around, of course, but together Benoit and I were separate from everything else.
On the observation deck, the wind flowed all around us. And below, the lights of the city sparkled like a sky full of stars had fallen to the ground.
“I don’t deny it’s breath-taking,” I said. “But why is it the most romantic place in the world?”
“Because we’re here together. And I get to do this.” He pulled me in tight against his body and kissed me until there were no more questions about romance, only the glowing, steady belief in its power.