THEO
IT WAS PAST MIDNIGHT and the Bouvre house lights were on. I resisted running to her and knocking on the door, deciding first to check on Solomon. He burned with fever, mumbled in his dreams, and breathed deeply but steadily. I held my hand on his forehead and said, “Be right back, old friend.”
I left his hut and headed straight for her door. Andréa opened it wearing a long white robe tied at her waist, her hair down around her shoulders. She looked at me and whispered, “Theo.”
“I saw your lights,” I said grasping for a reason to be there. “Wanted to make sure you had your doors locked. There’s been some trouble.” Behind her was the staircase, hallway, and living room, camping gear laid out in the hall, but nobody else around.
“Teddy’s sleeping,” she said. “We’re going camping tomorrow.”
“So you’re alone here.”
“It’s just us.”
I stepped in, closed the door behind us, and said, “Just us?”
“Yeah,” she said looking into my eyes like she did when she was mine. She smelled like heaven—jasmine to be exact.
“So,” she said. “A priest? Was it your mother or because you wanted an escape?”
“Maybe both,” I said. “But mostly because when I heard you married another, I knew if I couldn’t have you there would never be anyone else.”
Her eyes watered, and in that instant I knew nothing other than to pull her in. I wrapped her close and kissed her—the long, sweet kiss of my dreams.
As we held each other, I kept thinking it was a dream. But as I kissed her face and hands and touched her silky-smooth hair, she came to life. Was she feeling the same thing? No, it wasn’t a dream. She was there in my arms, her hands feeling my face, shoulders, chest. Kissing me back. An immense joy filled me and I said what I’d longed to say: “I love you. You can’t imagine how many times a day I dreamed of this; you, me, no war, no family coercions, just us. You’re my life. You’re everything.”
“I love you,” she said, holding my hands to her face, lips to my fingers. “Always have and always will.”
I wiped her tears, cupped my hands around her face, lost myself in those blue eyes, and said, “Without you, I’m just a dead man walking. I never felt like I survived war until right this minute, until you.”
“Mommy,” Teddy called from the top of the stairs. “I wet my bed.”
“I have to go to him,” she said pulling away. “He’s scared after losing his grandparents and scared of this new place.”
“Of course,” I said, reluctant to let go. “Tomorrow . . . we talk. And don’t go camping tomorrow. Stay in town.”
“Teddy will be disappointed,” she said. “He practiced lighting lanterns and rolling his sleeping bag all day—”
“Here,” I said taking my .38 out of my belt. “Remember when I taught you to shoot?”
“Yes, but—”
“There’s been trouble. You may need this.”
“Are we in some kind of danger?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “Just being cautious, that’s all. Tell Teddy he can go camping later. Tell him if he wants to learn how to catch salamanders, I can teach him.”
She slid the gun into her pocket and said, “Okay. He’ll like that.”
“Mommy!”
“So,” I said, “tomorrow.”
“Yes, tomorrow.”