by Sandra Byrd
“I’d love to.”
I set my handbag on the table and let him lead me to the floor. After a song or two, “Always On My Mind” came on. How appropriate.
“Want to keep dancing?” Dan asked.
I answered by tightening my hands on his arms, and he pulled me a little closer. He could lead without being obvious. I liked that.
We said nothing during the dance, and I wasn’t sure if I was glad or not that those particular lyrics were playing, echoing my own heart. I didn’t want to fall in love right now. It made everything too complicated, and we might get our hearts broken.
After the dance, the band took a break.
“Want to talk a walk in the garden?” Dan asked.
“Away from my grandmother?”
Dan gave me a guilty look.
“You’re a quick study,” I said.
“Stanley Jones looks like he’s got his hands full with her at the moment, anyway,” Dan said, as Nonna fixed Stanley’s tie. “I hope she didn’t get on your nerves,” I said. “I think you two are a lot alike.”
“I don’t know if I’ve just been insulted or complimented,” I replied, and Dan laughed.
We sat on a bench. Handfuls of roses tumbled down the arbor on either side of us, perfuming the night air, already fresh and warm, like sheets hung out to dry in the summer sun.
I sat on the bench with my hands on either side of my legs. Dan did the same thing, so our hands barely touched, side of palm to side of palm. I didn’t move my hand, and neither did he. Holding hands while dancing was a lot less serious than holding hands just because.
“So, have you made any decisions?” he asked quietly.
I took a deep breath. “I have,” I said. “I’m going.”
He didn’t meet my eyes. “I figured.”
I looked at him and willed him to look me in the face, and he did. “I want to try to make the career I’ve always wanted work. I want to live in France—I’ve always wanted to visit. I want to hear what God has to say to me in a place where I have to depend on him alone.”
“I’m going to miss you more than I thought possible.” He blushed. “I guess that sounds cheesy.”
“I’m glad I can make Strong Man Dan blush,” I teased. I lowered my voice but looked into his eyes. “It’s a little known fact that I prefer American cheese to French cheese anyway.”
He moved his hand so that it covered mine. “I’m not worried about French cheese,” he said. “I’m worried about a French Dip. The one that you might fall in love with and stay in France for.”
“I’m not going to France to find a guy,” I said. “Before, I might have.” I held his gaze. “But not now.”
He inhaled deeply and then sighed. “But you can’t predict what will happen.”
I shook my head. “No. I can’t. But you may fall in love with a sharp lawyer in your firm.”
“Unlikely,” he said.
“Unlikely, but still a possibility.”
He reluctantly shrugged. “Possible, I suppose,” he said. “When do you leave?”
“I’m not certain. A few weeks, I think. Maybe a month.”
“Can I see you a few times before then?” he asked. “I’d love that.”
“I could always schedule a trip to visit my sister in Belgium. It’s right next to France.”
“I’m sure she’d be pleased to know how much her brother cares.” I poked him playfully, and he managed a smile.
“The music’s back on,” Dan said.
He led me back to the dance floor, where we danced until Nonna cut in. I went back to my seat, and Uncle Bennie slid in next to me.
“Got a couple of job offerings, but I hear you might have a big option overseas,” he said. “Yeah,” I said. “Top level.”
“Really?” His eyes widened in surprise. “I’ll be working at a café. Baking. And doing laundry. But it’s French laundry.” I gave him a triumphant look, daring him to make me feel like the family underachiever for washing tablecloths.
“Ah,” he said. “That makes all the difference, then, doesn’t it?” He kissed my cheek. “You’ve grown up, Lexi.”
“I have,” I agreed. “Thanks for all your help…everywhere.”
He patted my hand. “It’s nothing at all. Now, my dear, may I have this dance?”
Toward the end of the evening, as Nate and Leah were getting ready to leave, my dad called everyone together for the toasts. And then Leah threw her bouquet.
It flew out over the dance floor. I saw Nonna trying to elbow her way in to catch it, but she and Leah’s mother collided in their attempts to catch it while acting like they weren’t trying. It threw them both off balance, and the bouquet soared directly into Tanya’s hands. She caught it out of reflex, looking more surprised than anyone else.
Dan whispered to me when I got back to the table, “No bouquet? I thought you used to be a catcher on a Softball team.”
“I haven’t found a team I want to play on yet.”
He laughed and took my hand. “Maybe on mine.”
Maybe…
The next morning I got up early to go to church.
My mom appeared in the kitchen. I thought she’d have left for her church by now. “Not feeling good?” I asked.
“I’d like to visit your church,” she said. “Is that all right?”
“I would love that,” I told her.
Dan had told me he would be at the second service, since he taught Sunday school during the early service. I looked for him in the hallway but didn’t see him.
We sat down and settled in to listen. The sermon sank in, and then came my favorite time: praise. The songs seemed to come in through my pores and then back out through me again.
I prayed for Sophie, that she would find her way to God whether it was here or somewhere else. I prayed for Nate and Leah. I prayed for Luc and Marianne, that God would draw them to himself as they began their marriage in a country where God often resided in lovely cathedrals but wasn’t as welcome in the day-to-day business of humble homes.
I prayed for Dan, but there I was on emotionally shaky ground. I pushed away the tender thought of him teaching his Sunday school right at that moment.
And then I felt the Spirit move, felt the urge to stand as the worship leader sang out, “I exalt Thee, oh Lord.” I stood and raised my hands into the air along with many others in the congregation, praising God publicly as I felt led to do, not worrying at all about what those around me would think.
I had to live for the audience of One.
My eyes were closed, but I felt the space between my mom and me. Then something completely unexpected happened. My mother stood up next to me. She didn’t wobble up; she stood up firmly beside me. She didn’t raise her hands, but she didn’t need to. I knew she wasn’t standing because she was led to. She was standing with me, like I had sat with her.
The tears came down my face, and I took one arm and wrapped it about her waist, and she wrapped her arm around my waist too. I knew what this said, in our unspoken language. My mother stood with me in every possible way.
After church, I went home and changed. I had only a few sets of clothes left to choose from. I’d packed the rest and put them into a storage unit, except for the boxes I was sending ahead to France.
Leah and Nate were there, saying good-bye before leaving for their honeymoon.
“So, Leah, are you guys happy with the condo you’re planning to rent?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I guess so. We’re moving in next week, right after we get back from our honeymoon. It’s not perfect, but we’ll definitely make it a home.”
I took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking. Would you guys like my apartment?”
She nearly dropped the box she was carrying. “What do you mean, would we like your apartment?”
“I mean, do you want it? I’m going to France. I don’t need it.
And I talked to the manager, and since he felt so bad about giving up my studio, he’s arranged for
me to be able to transfer the lease to you guys, even though it wasn’t in my contract. If you want to, that is.”
She did drop the box this time, then leaped over it to hug me.
“Is that out of joy for me or because you get the cool apartment?” I teased.
“Both!” she said. “If you’re sure.
“I’m sure,” I said, handing over the keys. “I think it was meant to be yours all along. You can go by there and sign the transfer papers anytime. I already signed my half.”
She ran off to make sure it was okay with Nate, but I was sure it would be.
I went back to packing. Deep in a nest inside one of the boxes, I’d packed my bud vase. The tiny stone cottage in France would be my first home on my own, and I’d be proud to take a piece of high-quality American art to a nation that honors and appreciates all forms of art. I’d studied French art in college and couldn’t wait to devour the Musée d’Orsay for myself.
I left my room and headed into the living room, where my dad was watching something on ESPN. He stood when I entered the room. He looked at odds with himself, which was unusual.
“Everything okay?” I asked. “I wasn’t going to turn the channel or anything.”
He relaxed. “I know.” He turned off the TV. “Getting packed to go?
“Yes. I know you’re not happy that I’m leaving.” He shrugged. “I’d feel better about it if you were in the States.”
“You can visit me and go to the beaches of Normandy.”
“That would be nice, Alexandra.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a good opportunity for me, Dad.”
“I know,” he said. “Here.” He handed me a black leather travel wallet.
“What—?”
“For safety. Don’t carry cash in your purse. Make sure you use the travel wallet wherever you go. And buy a small safe once you’re there, or open a safe deposit box.”
I looked at the leather wallet. It was nice. Masculine, but nice. And my dad had picked it out for me, special. I figured it was his way of saying I had his blessing to go.
“Open it,” he said.
I did and saw a piece of paper and some bills.
I was shocked. “Dad! Is this for my ticket to France?”
He nodded. “And back again. I didn’t want you to be without some cash when you first get there.”
“Thank you, thank you, Dad,” I said. “I can’t believe this. How…?”
My parents had made it clear that they didn’t have much money to spare, and I knew they’d already helped Nate and Leah a little with the honeymoon, and plus with building their new house…
“Oh, I’m going to do my own landscaping at the new house,” he said. “Only sissies hire people to do their lawn work.”
If it had been someone else’s dad, I’d have thought he had a tear in his eye.
“I’ll miss you, Lexi,” he said. “But I want you to enjoy yourself. Bake lots of good things.”
“I will, Dad,” I said. “But I won’t make white cupcakes with sprinkles for anyone but you.”
I got to work early on Tuesday, but Sophie was already there.
“Only a couple more weeks until you’re gone,” she said wistfully. “I hope Luc’s sister is as easy to work with as you are. Though she won’t be as good a friend.”
She told me all about moving into her apartment. “What did you do with the one you’d reserved?” she asked.
“Gave it to my brother and Leah,” I said. “They’ll repay me for the deposit. I’d known for a long time they were supposed to have it; I just didn’t know why. And now I do—I’m going to live in France!”
We poured ourselves cups of hot, nutty coffee. I drank mine with an almond croissant, Sophie with a piece of baguette with strawberry confiture.
“She might be easy to work with and a friend,” I said. “You never know. Hey, I thought about you at church yesterday.”
“Really?” Sophie perked up.
“Really,” I said. “I think it’d be a shame if you couldn’t keep going just because Michelle and I won’t be here.”
“Yeah, well, another time,” she said wistfully. “Here.” I handed her an envelope. “What is it?”
“Open it,” I said.
She pulled out a key and a piece of paper—the title to my Jetta.
“I’ll need it until I go, but then it’s yours.”
“Are you…are you sure?” Her eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sure,” I said. And thanks to my dad, I could make the offer. “I took my blood type card out. I think I’ll need the reminder to be positive in France,” I said, “but the rest is yours. Insurance on this baby is cheap. Trust me.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
I not only wanted to pass on my car, I wanted to pass on my faith. “I think its time you drove yourself to church if you’re going to go.”
I could tell she understood. “Yeah, it is.”
“You have to make me one promise, though.”
“What?”
“Take the bread to Pete on Saturday nights.” She stuck out her hand. “Deal.” She gave me a big hug. Luc came into the café, wiping flour dust from his hands onto his apron. “What is this? A sorority party?” We all laughed.
“In my office, I have some paperwork for you, Alexandra, in order to prepare for your trip for France,” Luc continued. “Are you ready?”
“Mais oui!” I said. And I was.
LET THEM EAT CAKE
PUBLISHED BY WATERBROOK PRESS
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Colorado Springs, Colorado 80921
A division of Random House Inc.
Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.
The characters and events in this book are fictional, any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.
Copyright © 2007 by Sandra Byrd
Published in association with the literary agency of Janet Kobobel Grant, Books & Such, 4788 Carissa Avenue, Santa Rosa, CA 95405.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication
Data Byrd, Sandra.
Let them eat cake / Sandra Byrd. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
1. Young women—Fiction. 2. Washington (State)—Fiction. 3. Chick lit. 4. Christian fiction. I. Title. PS3552.Y678L48 2007 813′.54—dc22
2007013715
eISBN: 978-0-307-49926-4
v3.0