by Ciji Ware
During the ensuing silence, Juliet gazed from one shocked expression to the next on the faces of the three Deschanels. After an awkward series of introductions—and before the general could say anything further to his son—Finn abruptly announced that he had to be on his way to drive Avery and Juliet home.
“Must you leave so quickly, son?” demanded the general in a tone that signaled Finn’s answer should be in the negative.
“Ms. Evans, here,” he said, his tone cool and controlled, “was one of the victims in the attacks, and has only just been released from the hospital. She’s tired and needs to go home. We all do. We buried a friend today.”
Claudine quickly interjected, “This afternoon, Andrew, the four of us attended the funeral of my friend Eloise’s grandson, killed on the thirteenth.” She looked steadily at her brother. “I’m sure you can understand that it’s been a trying and emotional day. I hope you can stay the night. I’ll go make up a bed in my spare room.”
With a brief nod, as if the general had agreed to the strategic retreat of one of his platoons, he asked the only other man in the room, “Where will you be going, son? Can I catch up with you later?”
Finn met his father’s glance, and after a long pause, replied, “Actually, I’d have to say that I’m still in the process of figuring where I’ll eventually go, and I’m not yet ready to discuss that with you. Good to see you, though, sir. Goodnight.” He turned toward his aunt. “Goodnight, Claudine. Thank you for the fitting tribute to our friend Jean-Pierre.”
Juliet could only nod her goodbyes to General Deschanel and her hostess while Finn swiftly ushered Avery and her through Claudine’s elegant living room and out the front door.
Finn said very little as he assisted Juliet into the back bench of his MG, and then tucked the bear rug around Avery in the passenger seat. Once he’d parked in front of number seven, Rue de Lille, he silently carried Avery’s small suitcase up the six flights of stairs. Meanwhile, it took nearly fifteen minutes for Juliet to slowly guide her friend up the winding staircase—resting on the landing of each flight—to her front door for the first time since she’d left her apartment for dinner at Le Petit Cambodge. Inside, Avery immediately sank on top of the quilt on her bed. As usual, the attic apartment was bordering on artic temperatures.
Hands on his hips, Finn shook his head. “Good for you, making it up here, Avery, but you can’t stay in this attic. This place is an igloo.”
Avery pulled herself up to a sitting position and announced, “My brain’s finally free of those meds and I just remembered exactly what the trick is.” She proceeded to explain the finer points of the French heating system to Finn, and sure enough, after a few minutes of her expert instruction, he managed to produce warm air blowing through the rusty radiator grill.
“I can’t believe you got it to work!” exclaimed Juliet.
“You just have to have the touch and a smart instructor,” Avery said with a smug smile in Finn’s direction. “Now, go! The both of you.”
Juliet pointed at the tiny refrigerator. “Damn it! We forgot to pick up some staples for you!” She turned in frustration toward Finn, who quickly volunteered to run down to a nearby épicerie to secure milk and eggs for Avery’s breakfast the following morning. Before either woman could protest, he’d disappeared down the winding staircase outside the door, announcing he’d be right back.
With a shrug of acceptance, Juliet said, “While he’s gone, let’s get you settled into bed.”
Avery nodded, her fatigue evident as she merely pointed to a hook on the back of the door where a nightgown hung. Juliet careful removed the cloth sling that protected Avery’s shoulder and arm. After she assisted in removing her friend’s clothes and put the gown over her head, Avery said, “I’m sure you detected the distinct chill in the air when Finn’s father arrived.”
“Hmmmm,” Juliet responded noncommittally, gently reattaching Avery’s shoulder sling.
“Finn didn’t exactly look pleased to see his pater,” she persisted.
“From what I gather,” Juliet replied, only willing to divulge what was general knowledge about Finn, “I don’t think the general was particularly pleased with Finn’s recent decision to resign from the Air Force.” She pulled the bedcovers aside while Avery slipped in between the sheets, adding, “Apparently, the Deschanels have been a military family for a zillion years.”
“So Finn’s break with family tradition didn’t go down well?”
Juliet affected a shrug, not wanting to betray any further confidences that Finn had shared with her. “I’m sure it’ll smooth out, eventually.”
“You could see how shocked they all were to see each other. Even Claudine.”
“Yeah... I guess.” And then Juliet changed the subject with a promise to return in the morning to escort her friend to her physical therapy session at a new location near her flat.
As her head sank against her pillow, Avery said with a teasing grin, “So, it’s back to the barge? Lucky you.”
“Yes, back to Finn’s couch in the pilothouse,” Juliet replied pointedly. “He’s been great to let me stay there until I have to leave Paris.”
Avery suddenly had a look of mild panic. “When’s that? How long can you stay?” she demanded. “Is Brad giving you a hard time about being here?”
“Of course he is,” Juliet said, forcing a smile, adding with as much reassurance as she could, “but I’m going to try to buy a little more time.”
Avery glanced around her tiny living space. “Now I do wish I had rented a bigger apartment so you could stay with me! I figured I’d be the only one sleeping here because I was taking all those classes and—”
“Don’t apologize! As you reminded me, I was the one who pushed you to find a place on this street. And besides, it’s been fun staying on the barge.”
“And hanging out with Major Gorgeous?”
“Avery!” Juliet was tempted to reveal Finn’s marital status so as to put an end to her teasing. “I just met the guy, and besides, I supposedly have a boyfriend back home. Finn and I live on two different continents! We’re the perfect example of two people who are majorly, geographically inappropriate for each other, so don’t get goofy on me, or I’ll think it is the meds. Try to get a good night’s rest.” She turned off the bedside light. “You’ll need your strength for the PT session tomorrow.”
“You’ve got to dump Jed Jarvis,” Avery murmured, half asleep already. “He’s such a rat, like all of them at GG, except Jamie...”
“No argument there.”
Avery’s eyes suddenly snapped opened. “Seriously? You’re going to give that jerk the boot?”
“Promise. As soon as I get back. Now go to sleep.”
Avery obediently shut her eyes once more and was breathing evenly by the time Finn’s footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs.
Juliet held a finger to her lips, warning, “Shhh...” and beckoned him to stand quietly near the pint-sized refrigerator while she removed milk and eggs and bread from the plastic bag he held. Soon the items were lined up on the tiny shelves. The pair made a silent retreat and closed the door, tiptoeing down the stairs.
When they reached the bottom, Juliet turned to Finn. “Look,” she said, “I saw from the expression on your face at Claudine’s that you were kinda... upset to see your dad. Since you two might need to talk, maybe it would be better if I found a hotel.”
Finn scowled down at her.
“If I meet with him at all—doubtful, at best—I don’t want it to be on the barge.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want him to know where I’m living,” Finn replied with vehemence that startled her. “I want my privacy. I want to protect what I have and take the time that I need to... to sort everything out without him trying to dominate every single thing I do!”
He gave an angry yank to the heavy front door leading to the street. Juliet scrambled to keep up with his long strides as he led the way to the spot where he’d parked
the MG. She reached out and put a restraining hand on his arm.
“Okay, okay, sir!” she exclaimed, trying to make a joke of the situation. Finn halted in his tracks and turned around to face her. Juliet spoke before he could. “As it happens, I’m perfectly happy to be your buffer zone to avoid sleeping on Avery’s floor—if that’s a service I can render. Thanks for letting the barge serve as my refuge as well.”
She felt Finn’s gaze studying her face. One corner of his mouth quirked upwards.
“You know what? I like you, Juliet Thayer. You are one, cool lady. Let’s find you a kir royale and me a strong cup of coffee. We both need to warm up.”
Juliet laughed and pointed directly across the street. Finn turned around and stared at a red awning with the letters spelling La Caléche.
“How about the café right over there?” she suggested.
* * *
The two of them sipped their respective beverages in companionable silence while late diners at La Caléche signaled for their bills and handed over their credit cards.
Finally, unable to completely file away the evening’s earlier events, Juliet ventured, “You should have seen the look on your face when your father walked into Claudine’s dining room. I gather you haven’t seen the general in a while?”
To her surprise, Finn seemed almost eager to talk about the strained relationship. “We haven’t exchanged a word or communicated in any way ever since I told him I’d decided to resign from the Air Force. He blew his stack, and hung up on me.”
“And you didn’t call back?”
Finn shook his head. “I didn’t tell him I was heading for France, either.” After taking a sip of his small cup of espresso, he added, “Claudine has faithfully kept my confidence, and I feel rotten that she’s now in the uncomfortable position of having to refuse to tell her brother exactly where his son is living.”
“Knowing Claudine a little bit, I can’t help but wonder if she doesn’t rather enjoy sparring with her brother. But you know,” Juliet speculated, “he’s got to have been worried about you, don’t you think?”
She noted the now-familiar crease that appeared between Finn’s startlingly blue eyes.
“Trust me, my father is more worried about the Deschanel family military legacy than anything else.”
“But you’ve been in the service ever since you got out of the Air Force Academy. Doesn’t that count for something with your father?”
“I served the nine years I owed the government in addition to the four years in the Air Force Academy and another two taking flight training. The fact I spent time in the Middle East desert, in rehab, and flying drones meant nothing to him. I’m a quitter.”
“He’s a soldier. Surely he knows the kinds of bad stuff you’ve been through.”
“If he does, he’s never said anything to me that showed the slightest empathy.”
“Does your father know about your PTSD or where things stand with Kim... or about the divorce? Maybe that’s got him concerned?”
Juliet realized full well that she was “fishing” but she couldn’t seem to help herself. For reasons she didn’t want to acknowledge, it was important to her to understand Finn’s state of mind concerning his ruptured marriage.
Finn drained the miniature cup and carefully set it down in its small saucer. “By now, I expect Dad knows from Kim or her parents that the divorce will soon be final... though, believe me, he doesn’t know the whole story.”
“Which is... what?” she prompted, adding with a hint of chagrin for being so pushy, “That is, if you want to tell me.”
Finn’s expression hardened. “No, I don’t, particularly.”
“Sorry. I just thought—”
He cast her a look of mild apology. “Look, there’s no need for you to be subjected to this little family drama of mine.” He signaled for the check. “Let’s head on back to the barge, okay? You’ve got to be back here to help Avery early tomorrow, and I... well, believe it or not, I’ve got a cooking class at ten.”
“No!” Juliet exclaimed, glad Finn at least had tried to make amends for his abrupt shutting down of their conversation about his breach with his wife. “What is it this time? How to make the perfect Crêpe Suzette?
“Naw...” he said, guiding her out the door of the bistro and into the dark, chilly street. “Crêpes Suzettes are for amateurs! I’m taking a class in how to cook duck in five different ways. Canard a l’orange... paté de canard... canard fumé—”
“I get it, I get it!” Juliet laughed. “It sounds fattening and delicious!”
Just at that moment, a car careened down the street with a man in the backseat hanging out the window, shouting and waving his fist over his head. As it turned the corner, a noise sounding like an explosion rent the air. Finn made a grab for Juliet’s shoulders and pushed them both down beneath one of the empty sidewalk tables as he rolled to one side to absorb the impact of their fall.
“Oh, my God!” Juliet gasped, her back crushed against Finn’s chest.
Just as quickly, the street returned to complete silence. The restaurant’s proprietor suddenly appeared at the door, staring down the street, not noticing they were on the ground under one of his metal tables. Meanwhile, Juliet could hear Finn’s ragged breathing as they remained motionless. The restaurant owner shrugged and disappeared back inside. Juliet remained absolutely still in Finn’s arms, instinctively allowing whatever time he needed to calm down. After a few moments, he slowly stood up and then helped Juliet to her feet.
“Just a bunch of drunks,” he pronounced on a long breath, “driving an old car that backfired, I guess. Sorry if I—”
“No! No! It absolutely sounded like gunfire,” she agreed with a shiver. “I guess after November thirteenth, we’re all going to have various versions of PTSD.”
“You okay? I didn’t crack a rib or anything tackling you like that?”
“I’m perfectly fine, but let’s get out of here.”
The drive back to the barge took less than fifteen minutes. Once out of the car, she kept her hands in her pockets as the two of them silently walked side by side along the quay toward the barge. Her cell phone suddenly emitted a ping, which caused her heart to speed up with the knowledge it was probably the start of the workday in San Francisco. Pulling it out of her pocket, she peeked at her message icon:
Be back here by November 30
or you’re fired.
Finn held open the gate to the metal gangway that led to the deck of the barge.
“News from home?” he asked as she passed him into the pilothouse.
She showed him the text.
“From your brother, right?”
“Yeah... Brad The Bad.”
“Why is it your job alone to keep the pressure on him to pay back your dad? Can’t your other brother demand Brad cough up the cash?” Finn removed his leather jacket and hung it on one of the spokes of the barge’s steering wheel. He reached for her coat and hung it on the spoke next to his.
“That’s not the only reason I should go back.”
Finn indicated the couch and they both sat down.
“You want to turn in your notice?” he said with a wry smile, surprising her in the next moment by reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze. “If you did that, then you could come right back here and enroll at L’École.”
“It’s not just my job. I also have to...” She paused, mid-sentence. Why in the world did she feel compelled at this inconvenient moment to tell Finn about her relationship with Jed and how she had decided to end it as soon as she got home?
One decision has nothing to do with the other, she scolded herself.
“What else do you have to do when you’re back in San Francisco?” he prompted after she’d failed to complete her previous sentence.
“Oh, nothing, really... I guess I’m just worried about how Avery will fare when I do leave. She looked panicked tonight when I told her I couldn’t stay much longer.”
“Well, I’ll keep
an eye on her for you,” he volunteered. “And I’m sure Claudine will too. Little by little—as impossible as that seems after what’s happened—life will return to the ‘new normal.’ The sun will come up tomorrow... and other poems.”
Juliet was surprised to feel the oddest twinge of jealousy at the notion of Finn and Avery becoming close friends in her ensuing absence, a reaction that made her instantly ashamed. Finn had been separated from his wife for nearly two years... and was most likely as lonely as Avery must be—and eventually ready for a new relationship. Meanwhile, she’d be seven thousand miles away and living a totally different existence. If Finn and Avery found solace in each other’s company, she should be happy for that.
She forced a smile, thanking Finn once more for being so kind to them both through their entire ordeal. Manufacturing a yawn, she said, “Boy, am I bushed, aren’t you? Time for beddy-bye, I’d say. Mind if I use the... uh... head?”
“Of course,” he said gallantly. “Oh, and by the way,” he called after her as she descended a few steps. “Ever been to Giverny?”
Juliet paused, mid-step and turned around.
“Not yet, but that’s my dream, one day, to go there to paint in that garden where Monet did all those wonderful canvases of water lilies.”
“So you do plan to come back?” Finn asked, adding, “because... maybe when you do, I’ll have my life better sorted out.”
Juliet paused to absorb his last words. Then she said, “Maybe I will, too,” and scampered down the last two stairs into the barge’s smallest room.
* * *
After a quick shower in Finn’s minuscule stall, Juliet returned clad in her regulation nighttime attire. Finn was sitting in his leather chair, reading. He had made up the bed on his sofa while she was down below.
“Hey... that was very nice of you to do,” she said, discretely slipping her bra and underpants back into her suitcase parked on the floor. There was something so intimate about having her personal affects tucked away in a man’s lair.
Finn rose from his chair, preparing to head down below to his own bed. He glanced at his watch and then looked out the window at the Eiffel Tower, still lit in blue, white, and red lights. “I should think about sleeping up here sometime,” he said, walking across the room to stand beside her. “The view’s pretty spectacular, isn’t it?”