One Summer in Paris

Her shoulders slumped. She’d missed this. She’d missed his visits, his conversation and his kindness.

She felt torn. Was it disloyal to let him fix things around her home? There was the wardrobe door, too, that creaked whenever she opened it.

But she was angry with him. So angry.

And then he was back, shirtsleeves pushed back revealing those strong arms. Strong. Capable. Liar.

She straightened. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

“I know.” He flipped open his box and pulled out a tool. She had no idea what it was. She was good at breaking things, and hopeless at fixing them.

She watched him as he worked.

He removed the new lock from its packaging and fitted it carefully. “She’s going to make contact with this Philippe, isn’t she?”

“Do you understand the meaning of the word hypocrisy, David?”

“I’m worried about her, that’s all.”

“You lost the right to worry about her six months ago.” Why was she being so harsh? Perhaps it was because she’d also made bad choices. She’d also done things she wasn’t proud of.

He checked the handle. Opened and closed the door a few times, then closed the toolbox. “I don’t know what happened, Mimi. I don’t know exactly where or when it went wrong. It’s been a long time since I felt Grace needed me.”

“You of all people should have known how much Grace needed you.”

“How? When? She organized everything. Planned everything.”

“Of course. Above all else, Grace hates chaos.”

“And I lost sight of that in the middle of everything.” He sighed. “I went to the bakery to buy bread this morning. Clemmie gave me a stale loaf.”

Good for Clemmie.

“Clemmie is very fond of Grace.”

David paced to the window of Mimi’s small apartment and stared down toward the river.

“This place is beautiful in the summer.”

“Shouldn’t you be going? You can’t leave a child lost in a mall. It wouldn’t be right.”

He gave a weary laugh. “You’re right. I should go.” He walked across to her and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon, Mimi.”

“Don’t worry about me. You’ll be too busy partying and trying to keep up with whatever it is teenagers like to do these days.”

He ignored that. “Will you tell Grace you saw me?”

“No. Why would I? You’re her past and what she needs to do now is focus on her future.”

“What if she gets involved with him?”

“I hope she does. She deserves to be as happy as you are.” She couldn’t remember seeing a man more miserable. “And now you know she is rebuilding her life and seeing other men, you can stop feeling guilty and enjoy your new life.”

He didn’t look as if he was enjoying his life. He looked traumatized. He fumbled his way to the door. “I’ll—Goodbye, Mimi.”

“Goodbye.”

As the door shut behind him, she closed her eyes.