3
At the end of this sunny day, I was leaning against the doorframe smoking a cigarette when a customer turned up. I glanced over at him—he didn’t say anything to me; Felix could help him. When I got back inside, my partner was standing behind the counter, staring into space, and the customer seemed lost looking at the books and the way they were whimsically arranged. I walked over to him.
“Hello, can I help you?”
He turned toward me and paused for a moment. I gave him a little smile.
“Umm… hello… I think I’ve found what I needed,” he said, grabbing a book at random. But…”
“Yes?”
“Are you still serving drinks?”
“Of course!”
He sat down at the counter, watched me fill his glass and gave me a little smile as a thank you. He started tapping on his phone. I discreetly watched him. This man gave off an air of assurance. He was attractive, but I couldn’t decide if I would have turned around to look at him in the street. Felix cleared his throat, which brought me back to reality. The smile on his face annoyed me.
“What is it?”
“Can I leave you to close up by yourself? I’m expected somewhere…”
“No problem, but don’t forget that tomorrow is delivery day, and I don’t want to be left alone here, breaking my back again.”
“What time?”
“Nine o’clock.”
“You can count on me.”
He grabbed his jacket, planted a kiss on my cheek and left. A few minutes later, my customer got a phone call that seemed to irritate him. While continuing his conversation, he finished his beer, stood up, and looked over at me to ask how much owed. He paid me, and asked his caller to hold on. He put his hand over the phone.
“Have a good evening,” he said, “This is a nice place you’ve got here.”
“Thanks.”
He turned quickly around; the little bell on the door tinkled as he left. It made me smile. I shook my head and decided to close up a little early.
Of course, I was the only one there to accept the deliveries the next morning. To release my anger, I called Felix. It went straight to voice mail. “You’re a pain in the ass, Felix! Once again I’m going to have to kill myself working alone!”
I begged the deliveryman to help me carry the boxes into the café, in vain. Shoulders drooping, I stared at the truck as it drove away down the street. I rolled up my sleeves and picked up the first box—the smallest one—when someone called out to me.
“Wait! I’ll help you!”
The customer from the night before didn’t give me time to react; he grabbed the box from me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I live in the neighborhood. Where should I put this?”
I led him into the storage room where I kept the surplus stock while continuing to question him.
“I’ve never seen you around before.”
“That’s because I just moved here three weeks ago. I noticed you… that first day, uh… I mean, your café… but I didn’t have time to come in and have a good look around until yesterday. OK… should I bring the rest of the boxes in here, too?”
“No, that’s OK, I can manage by myself. Don’t make yourself late.”
“Are you kidding?” he replied with a big smile before taking off his jacket and picking up the next package.
He was unbelievably efficient; everything was sorted out in ten minutes.
“All done! You see, it didn’t take long.”
“Thank you… Can you stay another few minutes?”
“Yes,” he replied, without checking his watch.
“I’ll leave you in charge for two minutes.”
I rushed to the bakery and bought a bit more than my usual daily rations. My helpful customer hadn’t moved when I got back to Happy People.
“Breakfast as compensation… how does that sound?”
“If you call me by my first name and treat me as a friend!”
I laughed and held out my hand.
“Diane.”
“Olivier. Delighted…”
“I owe you one. Breakfast is served!”
I went behind the counter and realized I was smiling like an idiot. Olivier sat down on one of the stools.
“Coffee?”
“It seems it makes people happy…”
“It works with tea, too, you know.”
“No, coffee will be perfect.”
We took our time over breakfast, talking about the neighborhood, the rain, the good weather… it was nice. Olivier was really charming, and more than pleasant to look at with his lively brown eyes and dimples. I’d just learned that he was a physiotherapist when he looked at his watch.
“Damn! My first appointment.”
“Oh… I’m so sorry; it’s my fault.”
“No, it’s mine; it’s nice here at your place. I think I’ll be coming back often.”
“The door will always be open to you… Go on now! Away with you!”
He rushed out.
Less than five minutes later, Felix showed up, a pathetic smile on his face.
“What a fraud! You arrive when the battle’s over!”
“Well, I can see you’ve perked up after the battle! And besides, given what I know, you’re not the one who worked up a sweat!”
My eyes opened wide and my mouth gaped open.
“How… how… do you…”
“The café across the street is awful, but it overlooked the love scene perfectly!”
“You planned all this.”
“You couldn’t miss seeing it all yesterday. That guy’s hot for you; he’s been hanging around the place for days. This morning was a test. He’s a good guy; I can see you like him.”
“No… not at all…”
“She’s in love and stupid, adorable.”
The first slap in the face of the day.
“He’s nice, and there’s nothing more to it than that. Get lost. And besides… he’ll probably never set foot in here again.”
“Tell me another!”
That evening, I was surprised to find myself watching people go up and down the street. I closed up without seeing Olivier again. I refused to admit I was disappointed. Nevertheless, I was enjoying my state of excitement: I felt alive, elated, delighted to be so light-hearted again during my daily routine. It was truly the first time I’d felt those emotions since Colin; the first time that a man aroused my interest and touched me by his simple presence.
Olivier was still going around and around in my head two days later. I was just closing up, turning over the sign on the door when he ran up to me. He leaned over and put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. I opened the door.
“Made it!” he said.
“We’re closed!”
“I know, but you’re still here. I missed you the last two days in a row, so I had to make it today.”
“What do you want?”
“To take you out for a drink. You spend your evenings watching other people relax after a hard day’s work. You have a right to relax, too…”
He must have seen how dumbfounded I looked.
“Unless someone is expecting you… I’m sorry, I should have thought of that… Fine… Umm… I’ll get going…”
He turned and began walking away. I caught up with him in the street. I didn’t want him to leave. Seeing him made me happy, that much was obvious.
“No one’s expecting me.”
“Really?”
“I’m saying it, so it’s true!”
We walked back up the Rue Vieille-du-Temple to the Rue de Bretagne. We quickly found a table outside. Olivier asked me questions about Happy People, but I was evasive about how the café came about. He wanted to know who Felix was and what he meant to me. Given the expression on his face, I understood that my partner’s homosexuality was very reassuring to him. I learned that he was thirty-seven and he’d studied in Belgium, where he’d had a practice for a long time before coming back to Paris a little over five years ago. “Back to my roots,” he explained. I could see that the moment was coming when I’d have to tell him more about myself. So I decided to cut the evening short: I wasn’t sure he was ready to hear who I really was and what I’d lived through. I felt good with him, and I panicked at the thought I might chase him away with all my baggage. Nevertheless, if something was going to happen between us, I couldn’t hide my past from him. It was unimaginable. It was a real dilemma.
“Thanks for the drink, Olivier, but I’ve got to get home now. I’ve had a really nice time with you.”
“The pleasure was all mine. Where do you live? Can I take you home?”
“That’s kind, but I live above Happy People; you don’t need to make sure I get home safely, I can manage.”
“Will you let me walk part of the way with you?”
“If you’d like to…”
We set off. I felt uneasy, I couldn’t manage to talk to him any more and didn’t want to look at him. I felt embarrassed. Our walk lasted five minutes before Olivier decided to stop.
“I’ll leave you here…”
I turned and looked at him. He found a way to smile at me again, even though I’d be silent for several minutes.
“Can I still come and see you at Happy People?” he asked.
“Whenever you like… see you soon.”
I took two steps back without taking my eyes off of him, then turned around and headed for my apartment. In the pedestrian passage between the Rue Vieille-du-Temple and the Rue des Quatre-Fils, I glanced back over my shoulder: Olivier hadn’t moved. He gave me a little wave. I sighed and continued on my way, smiling. I didn’t know what to do any more… I went to bed as soon as I got home. It took a long time to fall asleep.
Felix didn’t bring up how nervous I was the next few days, if he even noticed. I went about my business as usual, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Olivier and a possible future romance. How could I tell him about my situation without sending him running? It was one thing to want to have a relationship and to feel ready for it, but quite another not to frighten someone away with my past and my fragility, the consequences of my previous life as a wife.
Saturday evening, calm. Glorious weather all day long, so my customers had deserted my bookstore to sit at outside cafés. I understood; I would have done the same. We were going to close early. I was behind the bar and Felix was sitting on a bar stool staring out into space.
“What have you got planned for tonight” I asked, pouring us each a glass of red wine.
“I can’t decide; I’m in demand everywhere and I don’t know whom I should honor with my presence.”
I was so glad he was around: he always found a way to make me laugh.
“What about you?” he continued after we’d clinked glasses.
“Oh, I have a date with my television, The Variety Show.”
“You haven’t heard from your admirer?”
“No. I should have known I wouldn’t. Besides, once he’d heard about Colin and Clara… and the rest, he’d run away so fast your head would spin.”
“The rest? That foolish affair? That’s ridiculous; some day that will be your downfall.”
The very idea made me shake all over.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Diane, you’re jumping the gun. No one is asking you to get married again and start a family right away. You meet someone, have a good time with him, and see what happens.”
“Anyway, it’s a washout.”
“Not so fast. Look who’s coming…”
I looked up and saw Olivier, who was about to open the door. My heart started pounding.
“Hi,” he said as he came inside.
“Hi, Olivier,” Felix shouted with glee. “Have a seat!”
Felix patted the bar stool next to him, inviting him to sit down. Olivier walked cautiously forward, looking at my expression for permission.
“Will you have what we’re having?” I asked.
“Why not!”
Felix took charge of the conversation, bombarding Olivier with questions about his life and work. Olivier willingly submitted to his interrogation. Using humor as a cover, my best friend was learning about the trustworthiness of this man; I knew him well enough to know that he would have sold his mother and father to find me someone, but the idea still terrified him. As for me, I didn’t participate in their discussion; I couldn’t have. So I washed all the dishes again. I cleaned each glass, each cup I found, several times in a row. I avoided looking at Olivier as soon as he tried to look at me. When I was forced to admit that there was nothing else to wash, rinse, polish… I picked up my packet of cigarettes from under the bar and went outside to get some air.
I was smoking my second ciggy when I heard the little bell: Felix.
“The King has chosen: I know where I’m headed to slum it.”
“No… please… you can’t leave me alone with him.”
“His only fault is that he doesn’t smoke. He’s really a good guy. I can tell. Don’t be crazy. Talk to him. Get out there. Enjoy life a little!”
He gave me a peck on the cheek.
“He’s waiting for you.”
Felix left, happy as a clam. I sighed deeply before going back inside.
“Well…” said Olivier.
“Well…”
“A quiet dinner for two: how does that sound?”
I went back behind the bar and took a sip of wine. Olivier didn’t take his eyes off of me.
“Can we stay here?” I asked. “I’m closing and we can have the bar to ourselves for the evening.”
“Would you let me get dinner?”
“Agreed!”
He jumped down from his bar stool and headed for the door, but hesitated and turned around to look at me.
“Will you still be here when I get back? You won’t run away?”
“You can trust me.”
He gave me a big smile and left.
To kill time before he came back, I shut the lights in the display windows and changed the sign—I was closed. I changed the music, put on the latest Angus & Julia Stone album and locked myself in the bathroom. I looked hideous; I’d been in a hurry that morning and didn’t even have time to put on makeup. And I didn’t smell fresh as a daisy, either. The problem was that I didn’t want to risk Olivier finding the door locked when he came back and I didn’t have enough time to go upstairs to my place. My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. Text message from Felix: “To fix up your face, look behind the photos next to the cash register.” You’d think he had a hidden surveillance camera in the bathroom; anything was possible with him! Felix had actually stashed some makeup, a brush, and a sample of my perfume behind the counter.
I’d just finished setting the dishes on the counter when Olivier came back, his arms full of groceries.
“Did you invite your pals to join us?”
“I didn’t know what to get,” he replied, putting various bags down on the counter. “So I got everything. I went to the Greek place, the Italian shop, the cheese store… and then, for dessert, I got some chocolate cakes, but then I wondered if you might prefer fruit so I got some tarts…”
“You didn’t have to do all that.”
“I like doing things for you.”
“Do you think I need someone to do things for me?”
He frowned.
“No… I find you attractive and I enjoy it…”
I looked at my feet, my legs shaking.
“It’s not my place, but shall we sit down?”
He had the manners and skill to make me feel comfortable and to ease the natural tension of this impromptu date.
I lost all sense of time. I couldn’t remember having such an enjoyable evening in years. Olivier made me laugh by telling me stories about his patients and their imaginary back problems. I was starting to realize he was a spontaneous man with no worries about the meaning of life, someone made happy by the little things in life. He made it clear that he wanted to know a little more about me.
“You always hold back a little… I wonder why… I don’t frighten you, do I?”
“No,” I replied, smiling. “It’s just that I haven’t found myself in this situation for a long time…”
“Did you go through a bad break up? I’m sorry, that was a little harsh…”
“No… It’s more complicated than that… and it’s not easy to explain…”
“I don’t want to force you to tell me…”
“But it’s important… you might not want to see me again afterward…”
“Only if you tell me you’re a murderer…”
“I can assure you that I haven’t killed anyone!” I replied, laughing.
I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath before starting.
“Actually, Olivier… I lost my husband and daughter in a car accident, three years ago…”
“Diane… I’m…”
“Don’t say anything. That’s enough for today. But there’s been no one in my life since then… and I must say that… this is the first time I’ve had a nice time with a man. I’ll understand if that frightens you…”
I hung my head in shame. I could see Oliver lean down to look into my eyes. I gave a little laugh. He hadn’t closed up or seemed distant; he was the same.
“How about a little pick-me-up?”
“Sure.”
“Can I go behind the bar to open another bottle?”
I nodded and watched him.
“You know this is a teenager’s dream, don’t you?” he added, laughing.
“Please, enjoy yourself!”
He found a bottle and corkscrew and poured us each a glass of wine. His concentration at carrying out his task was touching and relaxed me.
“You look good doing that. I could hire you.”
“I only do special occasions,” he replied, winking at me.
He was about to join me when he noticed the frame with all the family photos. He looked at me as if to ask permission.
“Go ahead.”
He picked up the frame and studied it more closely.
“Felix looks like he was close to your daughter.”
“He’s her godfather… would you mind if I had a ciggy?”
“You’re in your own place. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about it?”
“If you have questions…” I replied, lighting my cigarette.
He put the pictures back where they belonged and came over to me.
“What have you been doing these past three years? I mean… to get through it… because no one could begin to imagine what you’ve lived through.”
I breathed in deeply, took the time to finish and put out my cigarette before replying.
“I locked myself into our apartment… If I’m still alive, it’s thanks to Felix. He shook me up so much that I decided to go away… I lived in Ireland for nearly a year, in a village in the middle of nowhere, with the sea a few meters from my doorstep…”
“What was it like?”
“Damp, but it revived me. It’s beautiful, very, very beautiful, you know… the countryside is striking; it’s a country worth seeing…”
I was fighting against my memories; I refused to allow myself to be haunted by the ghosts of Ireland.
“I ended up coming back to the fold, and I’ve been doing fine ever since. I don’t want to die any more… I want to live, but a calm life, in Paris, at my bookstore. There you have it…”
“Thank you for having confided in me. I won’t ask you about it anymore.”
He gently pushed a lock of hair from my forehead and smiled. I shuddered.
“I’ll help you clean up before letting you go home to bed.”
He stood up and went behind the bar where he got started on the dishes. I joined him and dried the dishes he handed me. We were listening to “No Surprises,” which played over and over again, without speaking. In the tiny space where we were, it was impossible not to brush against each other, touch each other’s shoulders, and I liked that. When everything was clean and put away, Olivier put on his jacket.
“Do you go upstairs from in here?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Make sure everything’s properly locked up.”
I walked him to the door; we stood facing each other.
“Diane, I won’t rush you; I’ll give you time to come to me if you want to… I’ll wait for you… as long as it takes…”
He came closer and whispered in my ear: “I’m not afraid.”
Then he kissed me on the cheek. It wasn’t the usual peck between friends that meant nothing—we’d never even done that. No, it was simply his lips against my cheek, and the proof of his promise of sensitivity.
“Good night.”
“Thank you,” I managed to whisper.
He went outside and waited until I’d locked the door before he walked away. I was in a daze, as if I was seeing everything through gauze cloth. I went upstairs and got into bed. Had I just found the man who would put joy in my life? Would I know how to let myself go?