All the next day I nervously awaited Bounmy’s arrival. My mind cycled back again and again to Julian’s kiss, and the unexpected pleasure I’d felt in the moment, then remorse for having strayed. I felt unworthy of Bounmy’s attentions and affection. Would he know something had happened? Would he read the guilt in my face or voice?
It was after six already and still no sign of Bounmy. We’d agreed it was better for him to come for me after Kham and the others had left work, not wanting to fuel further speculation about our relationship.
We had our regular dates on Fridays and Sundays, although Wednesday he’d come by saying he wanted to be with me even if it was only to walk me home from work. On our dates, we’d spend contented hours strolling leisurely along the river, exploring temples and new neighborhoods, wandering through the Friday night market, riding a carriage into the countryside, or drifting on a boat down the Mekong. Mostly, we avoided places where French colons gathered. The destination mattered little to me, as long as he was by my side. In the shadows where no one could see, we held hands, and occasionally he kissed my forehead or cheek, tenderly gazing into my eyes. Desires I’d never felt before blossomed and deepened, as my heart rejoiced over every detail and nuance of his being: his beautiful smile and dimples; his calm, reassuring voice; the warmth of his hand encircling mine; his subtle jokes and sweet laughter. Thoughts of him crowded my waking hours, and I counted the moments until we would be together again. So why had I responded to Julian’s kiss?
At six thirty, Bounmy burst into the office. “Désolé. I was stuck in a meeting and couldn’t get away.”
Overwrought and ashamed, I didn’t know what to say. “A letter came from my brother Wednesday,” I blurted out.
His face lit up, and he pulled me into a quick hug, which only made me feel worse about what I’d done. “What wonderful news. What did he say?”
“That he’s surprised and happy to find he has a sister. He promises to visit as soon as he can get time off from his new job.”
“I look forward to meeting him…that is, if you want to introduce us.”
“Of course. He wants to know everything about me, so I mailed him a five-page letter yesterday describing my life.”
Bounmy took my hand and squeezed it. “I would have liked to read it, so I could know more about you as well.”
I averted my eyes, thinking of my betrayal. “I’ve probably told you most things already. My life is simple and unexciting.”
He put a hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean…not my time with you, of course.”
He chuckled. “I hope not.”
“I have good news for you, as well.” He pulled a paper from his pocket. “My friend from Luang Prabang found your mother’s family and where they live. When you go there with Kham in September, you’ll be able to visit them.”
“How can I thank you enough?” I gazed down at the name and directions in Bounmy’s careful script: Family Thongsavat compound, two kilometers southeast of Luang Prabang center on the road to Xieng Khouang.
His fingers touched the side of my face. “Let’s have dinner at the chicken curry stand we like and celebrate. I missed lunch, and I’m starving.”
“That sounds perfect.” I gave him my first genuine smile. His calm, easy presence settled my nerves, and I buried my guilt, not wanting to spoil our precious time together. I’d made a mistake with Julian, but everyone makes occasional mistakes. I wouldn’t do it again.
Going out for a meal together had proved challenging, as the division between the indigène and French communities in Vientiane left us without easy choices. The Cercle was out of the question, since we weren’t members and it was the center of French life. Pierre’s and the Café Français were equally unsuited. The few Lao, Annamese, and Chinese restaurants that catered to indigènes only drew attention to my mixed background. Bounmy had reluctantly agreed that a Lao prince in the company of a young métisse attracted gossip and disapproval. We never specified what that gossip might imply, but Catherine’s numerous cautions constantly niggled at me. Bounmy sometimes brought extravagant picnics that we ate in sheltered spots along the Mekong, or we stopped at out-of-the-way stands serving basic Lao fare. Bounmy complained bitterly that our circumstances didn’t allow him to take me somewhere nice. I didn’t care in the least.
We walked down the river road and passed Pierre’s, which was packed with Frenchmen enjoying drinks after work. I kept my head down, focusing straight ahead, hoping no one at the bar would notice me with Bounmy. Catherine or Marguerite might be there—or Julian.
“I saw you here with Julian on Tuesday,” Bounmy said casually, as if it were nothing more than a passing observation. “Do you eat lunch out with him often?”
I stared at my feet, feeling like a small child who’d been caught sneaking a forbidden sweet. “He invites me sometimes when he has business nearby.” I looked over at Bounmy. “He’s only a friend.”
“Of course.” Small lines formed around his eyes and mouth. “However, people might assume there is something more between you. Perhaps it’s best not to invite gossip.”
“Yes, I know.” We walked along in silence, a slight mist of tension swirling around us. How ironic that Bounmy would warn me about Julian in the same way Catherine had alerted me about him. His obvious jealousy made me smile inside.
We reached the food stand and settled under a palm tree, ordering two bowls of chicken curry.
“Tell me about your brother.”
I explained the history of Antoine’s time in the orphanage and then Saigon, including the prejudice and difficulties he’d faced. “He’s the assistant manager at the coffee plantation, but says he simply follows orders.”
“I understand the subtle ways in which the French put the Lao and métis in their place,” he said, a bitter tone to his voice. “My position in the royal family has not shielded me from these humiliations.” He scraped the last of the sauce from his bowl. “But let’s talk of other things.” He smiled. “I’m playing tennis with a French acquaintance tomorrow morning. I’d like to establish some regular matches, but it’s not easy.”
“What about Julian?”
“He hasn’t invited me again.” He pushed the bowl aside. “Have you had more lessons?” The edge returned to his voice, prompting another quiver of guilt.
“A few times. I’m not sure I’m getting any better, but the exercise is nice after a long day at work.”
His lips became a fraught line. “I wish I could take you there to play, but it’s impossible…on many levels.”
“It’s not important,” I said.
After dinner, we wandered through a Lao section of town with simple wood houses where families were eating their evening meal, the scents of lemongrass and fish sauce wafting through the air. We stopped in a Buddhist temple we’d visited once before and found charming with its brilliantly colored murals, painted with the exuberance of a child, recounting one of the many stories of Buddha’s life. Kneeling down next to Bounmy before the altar and giant Buddha to pray, I stole a glance at him, observing his face visibly relax and his earlier contrary words dissolve in the smoke of incense.
The sky shimmered with stars as we strolled down a quiet lane toward my home. “I love being with you, Geneviève,” he said then pulled me behind a plumeria tree heavy with sweet smelling blooms. His hands trembled as he held my shoulders and bent down to kiss me as softly as a feather grazing my lips. Immediately an image of Julian’s kiss reared up. I wanted to erase that picture, to think only of Bounmy at this moment.
“Geneviève, so beautiful and innocent,” he whispered. He leaned me against the trunk, kissing me again, only this time our lips met with force, and his tongue probed my mouth. He pressed his body against mine with an urgency both frightening and exhilarating. “I desperately want you,” he said, his voice barely audible.
My lips tingled and my breath came short and fast. “I care for you very much.” This was the man who possessed my heart, the man I wanted to be with. Not Julian.
Abruptly, he stepped away and took a deep shuddering breath. “I’m sorry.” He stroked my hair. “There are things I must resolve. My life is not my own.” He sighed. “Please know that I would never do anything to hurt you.”
What did that mean? I stood on tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him softly once more. We held each other for a long time.
“I must take you home,” he said at last.
When we reached the gate at Catherine’s, Bounmy kissed my hand. “We’ll meet Sunday, as usual. I need to be with you.” He had a sheepish grin. “I promise to behave.”
I laughed. “Not too much, I hope.”
Once again, Bounmy slipped into the darkness. I stood for a moment reliving our evening, the thrill of his kisses. He was my first love, and my feelings for Julian could never compare.
There was no turning back.