by Britney King
Amelie smirked as though he’d just said the silliest thing she had ever heard. “Everyone has multiple lovers here. And Mr. Serious… I invited you here because you’re my friend, and I missed you.”
God. She was hopeless. And that was it. Just like that, Jack decided then and there that he hated France. There would be other reasons he’d find later, but for now, he simply shifted in his seat and came to terms with his hatred. “So we’re friends now? Well, then, let me ask you something... Do you fuck all your friends the way you did me, back there?”
Amelie pulled the car off to the side of the road and turned to him. “Oh, Jack… Come on! I knew you weren’t going to like this… but seriously, can you please not make us both miserable? We have a week together. That’s seven days, Jack.” She brushed the back of her hand across his chin. Her way of testing how angry he was, he figured. “Can we please just make the most out of it?”
Jack thawed a little against his better judgment, but he wasn’t about to show it. He crossed his arms, sat back in the seat, shook his head, and set his jaw. “When in France.”
Amelie slapped his thigh. Hard. “That’s the spirit.”
“So when do I finally get to meet the lucky guy?” He glowered, staring straight ahead.
She looked over and grinned. “Oh, Mr. Harrison… what am I going to do with you?” She winked and raised an eyebrow. “And you’re so sure it’s a guy I speak of, huh?
Of course, it turned out to be a goddamned guy. Jack wasn’t that lucky, he assured himself. And not only was it a guy, it happened to be her fucking professor. Who, by the way, Jack wanted to strangle from the minute he’d laid eyes on him. For one thing, he was old. Sure, maybe he was talented and charming, according to what everyone else had to say, but whatever it was Amelie saw in him, Jack would never know. The other thing Jack didn’t understand was why the guy was so damned friendly. It seemed as though he didn’t have a care in the world. He was sleeping with Jack’s girl, so as far as Jack was concerned, he thought he should have a lot of cares.
During his visit, Amelie took great pride in parading Jack around town, showing him off to her friends. Most mornings, they stayed in bed making love. Their afternoons consisted of bike rides through the hills and impromptu picnics wherever it was they happened to end up. Sometimes they simply drove to places Amelie insisted he see. In the evenings, they usually walked the cobblestone streets, wandering. He filled her in on the happenings at The Harrison Group and ideas he had for bringing on new partners. He told her about Princeton and his classes. She told him of Vincent, (the professor), and all that she was learning about. She explained the in’s and out’s of photography. She taught him a few techniques she used with her newest camera and yelled at him, calling him by name, when he refused to take any of it seriously. Even when she was annoyed, Jack felt a lump lodge firmly in his throat every time she said his name.
At night, there were the endless dinner parties. French people ate dinner surprisingly late, and a single dinner lasted for hours and hours. On Jack’s third night, Amelie insisted they attend a dinner party thrown by the professor. Jack obliged but when he couldn’t hack it any longer, he excused himself to the garden where the longer he sat, the more he wondered just why in the hell he’d come here. She wasn’t coming home, he realized. Her life was here. His was there.
“Boo!” Amelie called as she practically tackled him from behind. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Jack turned and looked her up and down. She was so beautiful it hurt.
“What are you doing out here.”
He looked up at the midnight blue sky and sat down on the ledge. There were so many stars. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen so many stars. “It’s quiet out here.”
She laughed, though just barely, then sat down beside him, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “That it is.”
They sat in silence like that for a long while before Jack found the words he wanted to say. “I don’t think I should have come… In fact, the more I think about it, the more I really wish I hadn’t.”
Amelie raised her head from his shoulder and shifted her body to face him. She crossed her legs underneath her and stared at her lap. “Yeah, I kind of figured as much.”
“You’ve changed,” he said without a hint of malice in his voice.
She looked up and met his gaze. “Have I? In what way, would you say?”
Jack sighed. “I don’t know. You’re just different.”
“I really don’t know what to say,” she said and looked away.
“Why’d you come here? Why not come to the east coast like I’d asked. Or any other school back home?” Jack asked, though he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know or if he was simply trying to avoid any more silence between them.
Amelie inhaled. “This is where my dad came to study. I guess I just wanted to feel close to him somehow…”
Jack looked away, surprised and perhaps a little ashamed for hating a place so much that seemed so dear to her. “I hadn’t realized that.”
“Yeah. He came here to study poetry when he was around my age. It’s hard to explain… but being here… it’s almost as though I’m getting to know him in a way I might not otherwise. You know… considering.”
He softened then, reached for her hand, and took it in his. “So… tell me about him. What have you learned…?”
She stared at their hands. “Well, sometimes I take his books, and I go to places I think he might have gone. I sit and read his poetry and wonder what he was feeling… what he was thinking when he wrote. And… I’ve interviewed some of the elders here, too. To see if they remember him… but so far… nothing. He told me once that I reminded him of this place. Of its beauty… He said that my name came to him here and that he knew if he ever had a daughter that he’d name her Amelie.”
Jack squeezed her hand. “He was really lucky he did. I know he would be really proud of you, Amelie.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I’d like to think so. But I’m not stupid, Jack. I know he ruined me for all other men.”
Jack frowned. “How so?”
Amelie bit her lip and searched his eyes. “He adored me. He made me feel special. Everything I ever did was perfect in his eyes. And I know that as long as I live that no one will ever love me that way again.” She laughed. “I mean, it would be a lot to ask. Don’t you think?”
Jack cupped her face with his hands and kissed her softly. “I can love you like that. Just come home. Come back to the States with me, Amelie.”
She kissed him back. “Oh, Jack. You know I can’t.”
He pulled away and searched her face. “You mean you won’t. Not that you can’t. Because that’s bullshit. You absolutely can. There are plenty of schools back home. Is it him…? The professor. He’s the reason, isn’t he?”
Amelie rolled her eyes. “Vincent? God, no. He’s just… Vincent. I like him… he’s brilliant… but it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like? What’s keeping you here?” Jack pleaded.
“I don’t know. It just feels like I’ve come home.”
Jack stood and walked to the edge of the walkway and then turned away completely, unable to meet her eye. “I can’t compete with that. Tell me how I’m supposed to compete with that…”
She stood and followed. “You can’t. I’m glad you came. I wanted you to see. I thought maybe you’d understand once you were here.”
Jack spoke, raising his voice more than he’d intended. “Understand! What the fuck is there to understand? I love you. I want to be with you and… you want to be here.” He threw up his arms. “This… this place isn’t me… in case you haven’t noticed.”
She lowered her voice and spoke sarcastically. “No, Jack. I hadn’t noticed. Not at all.”
“I can’t stay here for another minute. I just can’t do it. Quite frankly, what you’re asking me to do is bullshit. I’m leaving tomorrow.” He walked toward the gate without turning back.
“Where are you going?”
Jack kept walking. “To a hotel.”
The following morning, Jack awoke to a knock at his door. He opened it to find Amelie standing there. She held up a paper sack and a Styrofoam cup and pushed past him. “I brought breakfast.”
“How’d you find me?” he asked, running his fingers through his hair.
She sighed. “Small town. You’re American.”
Jack used the bathroom, and then splashed cold water on his face. When he came back out, Amelie was lying across the bed. “So you’re leaving today, huh? You sure you can’t be… um… persuaded otherwise?”
He frowned and pulled a shirt over his head. “Yes.”
“Yes, I can persuade you. Or yes, you’re sure?” She winked.
He glanced at his watch. “I have to be at the airport in three hours.”
She stood and walked to him, slipping her hand inside his pajama pants. “Then I guess we don’t have much time, do we? It’s probably best to make the most of it…”
They drove to the airport in silence. Amelie white-knuckled the steering wheel as Jack pretended not to notice. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, closed his eyes, and wished he were anywhere but where he was. He couldn’t wait to get the hell out of this place. He ran through all the reasons in his head why he hated France and why he had to leave, now. Of all of the reasons he had, Jack realized the biggest was her. France was taking—or had taken, he corrected himself, Amelie away from him. It had made her worldly, and he knew, perhaps even from the moment she picked him up at the airport, that she could no longer picture a life back in The States. And with that came the realization, for Jack, that she couldn’t picture a life with him, either.
“Hey, you,” she finally said glancing briefly in his direction and then back at the road.
He opened his eyes to let her know he’d heard, and then shut them again.
She spoke slowly, softly. “Thank you for coming. I really am sorry about… everything. I know things didn’t go quite like we expected… but you’ll come back, right? Maybe… next summer?”
Jack squeezed his eyes shut noticing the burst of colors the tighter he squeezed. “No, Amelie. I’m not ever coming back.”
She did a double take. “Like, ever? You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
She patted his thigh. “I know you’re angry with me, Jack. And I am sorry.”
When he didn’t respond, she let it go. As they drove on, each mile seemed to pull them further apart. Finally, she pulled the car up to the curb at the airport, and she turned and smiled at him. Of course, leave it to Amelie to try to make the best of things, he thought.
“I was thinking about coming home next Christmas. We could go somewhere then.”
Jack reached for the door handle and pushed himself forward. “I don’t think so. Actually, I think… it’s probably best if we leave things as they are, you know.”
Amelie let out an audible gasp. She swallowed. “If you say so.”
He opened the door and refused to let himself look back.
TWELVE
When Jack returned to school, he threw himself into work and women, which as it turns out may not have been the best plan he ever had. One night after a particularly disastrous binge on a girl from his economics class, he woke up, climbed out of bed and poured himself a drink. He wasn’t much of a drinker. However, on this occasion, he allowed himself just one to dull the pain. His life was a mess, he told himself. From the outside looking in, Jack was successful. From afar, all probably appeared as it always did. He was neat, tidy, in control. He was on top of his game. But on the inside, Jack was one step away from crumbling. Leaving the south of France early seemed like a good idea at the time, but the further he got from that day, the more he regretted not staying. Three weeks had passed, and here he was, no more or less miserable than the day he’d left. That was the thing about Amelie—three days spent with her would always be better than none. Jack downed his drink and decided he needed to see her. He remembered the photo albums he had tucked away and figured if a photograph was all he could manage, then so be it. He went to his closet and pulled out the album she’d given him for Christmas in San Francisco. Jack paused when he noticed the second album there, and maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the loneliness, but he pulled it down, too. He ran his hand along the edges, opened to the first letter, and began reading.
Dearest Jack,
I asked your father to give you these letters. They’re numbered in the order I thought might make the most sense. I’m going to trust that you’ll find the right one at the right time. Which brings me to this one… I’m guessing you’re reading this sometime just after my funeral. I can’t tell you, baby, how strange it feels to type those words—but here we are, nonetheless. I know this is hard, Jack. I know you miss me, and with the rush of everything going on around you, the fact that I am really gone may not even seem real to you yet. I want you to know that I miss you, too, baby. I miss you so much. I’d like to think that you can still feel me there with you. It makes me happy to think that I can still comfort you somehow.
If I am wrong, and this does feel real, then I want to ask that you sit with that, Jack. I’m sure there are so many emotions that you’re feeling right now—too many for a nine year old boy to understand. But you are smart, Jack. You have always been smart, and I know that you will figure this out. Please don’t be angry, my love. Try to remember the good. Always remember the good. Though it may not seem that way now, we were so privileged to have had the time we did. It would never have been enough, no matter what… so it’s important that you find the good in what you have. That’s a lesson I want you to remember all your life.
I want to ask a favor of you, sweetheart. I want to ask that you please be kind to your father. I know he isn’t easy to live with. But I also know that he loves you very much. He’s lost in his own grief, and though it isn’t an excuse for his behavior, there will come a day when I think you’ll understand. And while that day will probably be a long time from now—the time will come when you’ll love someone so much it’ll make you question everything you thought to be true. It’ll make you act in ways you couldn’t have imagined, before. That’s what love and grief do, you see. They are the extremes in this life. But they are also what really matter. Sit with that, son. Sit with the pain. Don’t numb it out. Feel the feelings you need to feel, even if it takes time you don’t want to take. The most important lessons you’ll ever learn in this life are acceptance and forgiveness. It’s love that teaches us those lessons, son. And with that, I want to ask that you forgive me, Jack. Forgive me for leaving. Forgive me for asking of you the things I’ve asked. I realize this was a lot to put on you. It was a lot to expect. I know this, and I just want to tell you how sorry I am.
Forgive your father, too, son. See the good in him, even when it seems hard to find. The truth about your dad is that he’s not as strong as he appears from the outside. Lots of us are that way. Some of us are simply better at masking it than others.
I love you, Jack. And I’m still here when you need me. It may not feel like it right this second, but I’m here, in these letters, offering you the only thing I have left. And that is love. And above all else, it’s acceptance. The truth about acceptance though, my love, is that you can not offer it to another if you haven’t found it within yourself, and that is why I lied to your father about the medicine. It’s why I asked you to do the same. I needed to accept that my death was inevitable just as much as I needed to help you accept it.
Feel the weight of it, Jack, and then when you’re ready, release it. The things you need will always have a way of finding you, love. You just have to trust that it will be so.
I Love you always,
Mom
Jack closed the album, laid his head down on the desk, and cried himself to sleep.
Three weeks later, Jack was rounding the corner headed toward the business center when something familiar caught his eye. He walked cl
oser, squinting as though maybe his eyes were deceiving him. Standing several feet away, smiling at him, was none other than Amelie.
Jack ran to her. “What in the world are you doing here?”
She toyed with her t-shirt nervously. “We didn’t get a proper goodbye. And… I guess I just realized I was finished not getting proper goodbyes.”
He frowned, and then hugged her so tight she coughed. Damn it. As angry as he’d been, Jack never once considered how she might have felt when he left the way he had. “I’m so glad you’re here,” Jack whispered over and over.
She pulled away slowly and searched his eyes. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
He reached for her hand and led her to his car. His mother had been right. What you need always has a way of finding you.
Jack tried to make up for lost time, he was so happy to see her that he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Each time he attempted to make any headway, Amelie succeeded in brushing him off. She seemed distracted, off. He reached over again and pulled her toward him. She pulled away, her face draining of any color. “I’m pregnant,” she said flatly.
Jack froze. His mouth went dry.
Amelie pulled her hair into a ponytail and continued. “I’m pretty sure it’s yours. I mean… not a hundred percent sure or anything. But pretty sure… and I wanted you to know.”
He put his hands over his face and rubbed at his eyes. “All right. Just let me think for a moment.” He exhaled and then sucked in as much air as he could. “This... this isn’t all bad. We can make this work.”
Amelie sighed. “I’m not going to have the baby, Jack.”
He swallowed. “What do you mean you’re not going to have the baby?”
“I’m not going to have the baby. I have an appointment on Thursday… to get an abortion.”
Jack felt his mouth drop. “What the fuck, Amelie?” He pointed toward her stomach. “That’s my kid in there, and you’re not even going to ask for my opinion on the matter?”