Painted with Love: Romance Eludes Time and Death

by Karen Diana Montee

  “My father’s not complicated. Like my mother, he values education, honesty, the Catholic Church and me. What could be simpler?” I said smiling.

  Jean-Paul tilted his head to one side as if questioning me. His checks were red from the cool air and when the sun peeked from behind the clouds, his face seemed to glow. He returned a tight smile, loaded with a question. “Your father is quite religious?”

  “Both of my parents are religious. Most of Paris is the same, non?”

  “Oui, it’s common.” Jean-Paul paused briefly before he continued. “But I am not. After my parents died, I had a difficult time at church. I was already angry at God for taking my parents from me. Martine insisted that I attend church. As I grew up, I witnessed gross hypocrisy; clergymen taking advantage of the poor and the distraught, and priests casting judgment on others when their own behavior was deplorable. The Catholic Church is of no use to me. On holidays I attend to please my aunt.”

  Reflecting on Jean-Paul’s words I realized that church was a welcome refuge to me. It was familiar and comforting. Attending church was what people did on Sundays. Jean-Paul’s words worried me. How will I share this news with my parents? Perhaps this means Jean-Paul and I are not meant to be. “I would not share your sentiments with my parents,” I said, “if you desire their approval.”

  “Very well, but does it reduce me in the eyes of Mademoiselle Cherie?”

  I thought for one moment, still unsure of how this might impact me. Then I said the most honest thing I could, “I cannot say at this moment how your feelings might impact my future. Yet, how could I preach to you my need to follow my heart and deny the same to you?”

  Jean-Paul smiled widely in appreciation.

  The hour flew by. We both watched as Martine walked towards us, carrying herself as if she were heavier now than an hour ago. I felt certain that she had returned early. She gave us each a thoughtful look before she spoke. “I’m afraid that I haven’t good news dear ones. Catherine was not receptive to my interfering with your betrothal on your behalf. She said there were many reasons why your parents chose this man for your husband. There was a deep knowing of the family and their values. She said that Andre loves you. She didn’t seem closed to all other options, but she wishes to address this with you Cherie, and not with me.”

  Jean-Paul and I looked at each other. I tried to read his face, but all I saw was contemplation in his deep brown eyes. His gaze turned from me to Martine. “Then there’s hope, I presume?” he asked.

  “Winning my love is far more valuable to you than winning theirs” I injected. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “If I cannot win the love of the woman whose smile melts my heart, then I shall be a lonely man. But you know that I value your parent’s approval as well, for your sake.”

  It wasn’t exactly the answer I was seeking, but my cheeks flushed anyway.

  Martine watched us both intently, enjoying the romance blossoming between us.

  Jean-Paul and Martine drove me home in their carriage and said good bye. As I walked through the front doorway, I wondered what my mother would have to say after her conversation with Martine.

  “Bonjour, Cherie.”

  “Bonjour, Mother.”

  “Did you enjoy your visit with Martine and Jean-Paul?”

  How did she know I saw Jean-Paul? “Of course, Mother.”

  “Come sit here Cherie,” my mother said, gesturing to the parlor. “You know that I love you above everything, excepting your Father. I desire nothing but the best for you and your wellbeing. You know this, oui?”

  “Mother, of course I know this. What are you implying?" I asked.

  “Your father and I chose Andre for you for a very specific reason. Andre cares about you, and will make an excellent husband, provider and father to your children.” I tried to interrupt, but my mother pointed her finger, directing me to allow her to finish. “And….more importantly, he will keep you with your family. Andre will live in Paris. You will raise your children in Paris. You will be respected, wealthy and provided for, as will your children.”

  “Mother, I don’t love Andre.”

  “You mean to say that you’re not in love with Andre. You love him. He’s like family.”

  “Exactly, Mother. He’s like a cousin to me. Becoming his wife repulses me. I must feel passion for my husband.”

  “I’m sorry to spoil your dream about love, daughter. But passion does not last. Lust and desire are temporary at best, in the most powerful relationships. Friendship lasts. Kindness, caring and family love is lasting. Young passion is exciting to be certain. It will fade, however, and then you don’t have what it is that you really desire; stability, friendship, compassion and enduring love.”

  “Is that what you feel towards Father, enduring love?”

  “Yes... enduring love is what I feel.” She said slowly, as if to convince herself that this was correct. The wall clock chimed announcing it was two in the afternoon. Mother paused, listening to the clock as if she were lost in some distant memory. Then she gathered herself back to the present and continued. “This means that through the good days and the difficult days, I love your father. When he’s distant, distracted, ill, grumpy, I love him. This is the love that will carry a woman through the challenges of being a wife. It’s not as easy as it would seem, to care for a man and be his support emotionally and physically. Men are not always kind to us.” She paused as she stared off into a corner of the room. Her eyes then came back to mine. “Yet if you’re well provided for and have your family around you, you shall ride the good and the bad with a strong foundation. Your father and I know this. We have ensured it for you. We do not want you to get distracted by your young, whimsical feelings and destroy the future we have set in place for you. Your future is secured. Please trust that we know what’s in your best interest.”

  I sat quietly before my mother taking in everything she had said. Obviously she realized that I preferred Jean-Paul. She had heard me say more than once that I did not want to marry Andre, yet she didn’t waiver from her conviction about him. All the arguing in the world would not change her mind at this moment. I stood up, looked at her, and walked away in silence.

  “Cherie? You’re mistreating your mother. Sit with me and pour out your heart. Cherie!”

  I didn’t turn around to even look at her as I walked away. In my room I sat quietly, hurting, wondering and frustrated. What if my mother were wrong? What if Jean-Paul could make me gloriously happy for the rest of my life? Certainly stability is not more valuable than passion. How shall I know?

  I devised a new scheme while sitting alone at my window staring aimlessly at the winter clouds. Jean-Paul would hear nothing of my mother’s words. I would tell mother that I valued her opinion and would share nothing of my time with Jean-Paul. If I fell in love with Jean-Paul, then I would convince my father to allow me to marry him. Father could not resist my pleas.

  One week later, Jean-Paul and Martine picked me up for the ballet. I wore a new solid blue, velvet full length gown that mother had purchased a few months ago. The dress draped nicely over my slim hips and the neck line plunged low to reveal some cleavage. Martine wore an elaborate gown of purple and gold with small red flowers. Jean-Paul looked strikingly handsome in his suit.

  We sat in an upper balcony that Martine secured for this special occasion. Martine and Jean-Paul were in good spirits and I was seated between them. The crowd spoke softly in gentle whispers as we waited for the event to begin. Sitting next to Jean-Paul aroused me. The dimly lit room and perfumed air added to my excitement.

  Once we were settled in, Martine asked. “Pray tell my child, what did your mother say to you regarding Jean-Paul?” Jean-Paul leaned in to hear my reply.

  I was careful with my words. “She begged me to weigh my options carefully. She loves me dearly and wants only my lasting happiness.”

  “I can hear your mother saying this. It’s no wonder that she wanted to address the matter with you dire
ctly. She had very sound advice. An intelligent woman indeed,” Martine replied.

  “Martine, I believe it’s best for you not to address the matter with mother. If she feels that you have influence on me, towards Jean-Paul, she shall not be pleased.”

  “I concur. It is best that I not speak with her about it,” Martine replied.

  “It’s important to follow your parent’s wishes,” Jean-Paul added. “Will your parents allow me to court you?”

  I was presented with a great dilemma. If Jean-Paul knew her objection, he might walk away. I had to plant the seed of a small lie to encourage the man I desired. “My mother said, quite clearly, that my happiness is her desire. However, she didn’t feel it was fair to Andre to spend a great deal of time with you while Andre is away. When he comes home in March, then she will view where my affections are towards Andre compared to you.”

  “How could you know your affections towards me if I have no opportunity to win them?”

  “I offered her the same objection. She didn’t present a solution. I suppose that will be up to you.”

  “That would seem like the respectful thing to do,” Jean-Paul replied. “In honor of your mother I will grant this request.”

  “If what you desire most is my mother’s respect above all else, then I know that a future with you would never be acceptable to me.”

  Martine moved away and decided to provide us with some privacy.

  “I desire your affection, but not at the expense of losing your respect or the respect of your mother.”

  “I understand. Then you have no solution.”

  “With great respect for you Mademoiselle Bourguignon, might I ask if there’s a way for me to spend time with you without asking for you at your home?”

  “Of course, there is. I take our dog Lou Lou for a walk each day at noon. If you happen to go to the Jardin des Tuileries each day at noon, then there’s no harm in walking together.”

  “I see Mademoiselle Bourguignon, and I suppose there’s no harm in having a sip of coffee to ward off the chill as well?”

  “Oui.”

  “Ahhh and I suppose that you enjoy chocolates?”

  “Do you not notice that I’m a woman? Of course I love chocolates. You must be mad to think otherwise.”

  “Heavens, I shall not presume anything with you Cherie. You’re quite independent and unlike any woman I have ever met. I would never postulate to know what you desire simply because you’re a woman.”

  “Now that’s a beautiful answer. Merci, chocolates are my favorite, dark ones.”

  “Good information for me. Would you like to instruct me on other details of how to court you, such as what I should wear, how I should speak and what other lies I should present to your parents?”

  “Are you mocking me?” I asked.

  “I am simply wondering how much of this courtship you should like to dictate? If you lead me to court you will I still impress you? Will you believe that I act of my own will? How will you know that I might think for myself without being given that opportunity?”

  “You are mocking me! Well I can tell you that your words are not directed by me at this moment and you are not doing a good job of winning my affection,” I replied.

  “So then, I need further instruction on how to fall into favor with you?” Jean-Paul asked.

  “Fine, as you wish, I shall leave it up to you to decide if you will pursue me. I didn’t intend to instruct you on how you should behave. My intention was to be helpful. My mistake.” I said and turned towards the stage. Although I had led him around to say what I wanted him to say, he discovered my manipulation and called me on it directly. How was I to get what I wanted if he was so astute?

  Suddenly the candles dimmed and I sat embarrassed in the faint light between Jean-Paul and Martine. Much to my frustration, his scent perfumed the air and relaxed me as I tried to stay in my frustration. Some magnetic force made me want to have him touch me. I didn’t show my weakness, however. If he had affections for me, he wasn’t making them known, quite the opposite with his firm repartee.

  I watched the dancers in silence without my usual smile and enjoyment. The first half of the performance was uncomfortable for me, yet Jean-Paul seemed relaxed and pleased with himself. My tension eased at intermission when he brought me a rose and glass of red wine. “Your mood may be buried in fog, but your smile is sunshine to me,” he said handing me the rose.

  I smiled, happy to receive his warm words.

  Following the night at the ballet, Jean-Paul came to the park each day at noon, although he never promised to be there the next day, so each time was a surprise. He walked beside me with Lou Lou on long strolls through the park. Each week the weather warmed towards spring, as if our budding love warmed the earth. Several times a week he bought me cafe latte. On a few occasions we skipped the long walk and sat in the protection of a cafe to enjoy our tasty beverage. During January and February, Jean-Paul asked many questions while he studied my face.

  Twice each week he surprised me with different kinds of chocolate, dark and rich. During the second week I asked him, “Why do you always smile the whole time I’m eating my chocolates?”

  “Because…when you’re eating your chocolate you always have some left over on your lips.”

  “All this time you’re watching me with chocolate on my lips and you’re not telling me?! Jean-Paul, you’re rude.” I slapped his shoulder with my right hand.

  “But Cherie, it pleases me….because I keep thinking about kissing the chocolate off of your lips. I imagine that the little bit of chocolate was saved for me to enjoy from your skin to my tongue.”

  I blushed from embarrassment. Obviously I enjoyed the chocolates enough to not pay attention to how I ate them. Jean-Paul was not generally so forward, but I had seen him each day for three weeks. Perhaps he was feeling more comfortable around me.

  We continued this routine through early March. On March 4th, Jean-Paul admitted, “I feel quite fortunate to have this time with you while Andre does not. I’ve grown jealous of Andre and he has not even been near Paris.”

  “Oui, however, I just got word that Andre is coming for a break from school. He shall arrive in Paris mid-March.”

  Jean-Paul walked beside me in silence with his head down. He nodded his head a few times without a word. I didn’t speak. After a few moments he turned towards me and then turned me towards him by guiding my arm. He looked into my eyes. “Cherie,” he paused and seemed to be searching for his words, “in these past two months I have fallen in love with you. I can’t imagine my life without seeing chocolate on your lips.” He smiled and I returned a smile. “Yet I feel torn between my love for you and my duty to my family, as well as your duty to yours. If I chose to marry you, I would have to forgo my obligation to Jacques and Martine in order to keep you near your parents. This option feels like betraying my family. I have thought deeply about which choices I must make. Cherie, I could go to California….San Francisco, for two years, establish my uncle’s trade connections and then come back to France for you. Would you wait for me?”

  “Non, I would not wait here alone. If you leave me then it would be good-bye. I would come with you if you asked me. I want to see the great country of America. We could come back to France when you complete your work.”

  Jean-Paul was quiet again. His eyes darted about, right to left, up and down, as he frowned. After several minutes, he answered me. “You’re an amazing young woman. Your bravery and sense of adventure surprise and delight me. However, I must not remove you from your homeland and family.”

  “I wish to be with you, wherever you may be in the world.”

  Jean-Paul took a step backwards, away from me and lowered his gaze from mine. “I will consider it. Family is important. I must speak with your father about such a proposal as well as asking for your hand.”

  “Jean-Paul, my parents have not seen Andre for some time. Neither have I, for that matter. I wish to tell Andre in person where my heart is. He
deserves to hear it from me. Given my honesty, he should withdraw his interest out of respect for me. This gesture will make it simpler for my father to accept your request. Do you see the logic in this?”

  “Oui, oui. Of course, I must wait until after Andre’s visit. I understand. You will not fall for Andre while he’s on holiday?”

  “Jean-Paul, how sweet of you to be concerned. You needn’t worry. Andre is an intelligent man, but he has never captured my affection. My heart is encircled in your passionate love.”

  We looked deeply into each other’s gaze. My throat became tight and I swallowed hard. I took a deep breath and took in his masculine scent. His hand came to my face. His fingers climbed through my wind-tossed hair. He covered my ear and cheek with his palm as he stared at me. I wanted our lips to connect, to express our passion with our tongues, breath and sound. People surrounded us, moving about in different directions. Dogs and children walked with parents and owners. There was no privacy where we stood. Jean-Paul glanced around, I followed his gaze. There were tall bushes across the park, one hundred yards in the direction in which Jean-Paul looked. Yes, I thought. Please. I looked at him pleading, wanting his kiss above all other considerations. “Please?” I expressed.

  “I will not attack you in the bushes as if you were some street girl here to satisfy my whims. You’re too precious for such an idea. We must be patient. We will be together, in time.”

  Disappointment changed my smile to a pout. My heart dropped and my shoulders sank. I wanted to taste his lips and feel his hands on my hair while he whispered his love to me.

  Yet his thoughtfulness made me desire him more. “Jean-Paul, could we go to your Uncle’s flat?” I didn’t explain myself or make an excuse. He knew the seriousness of my request. His aunt and uncle would be at the country house. We would be alone, with our desires tempting us. The consequences could be grave, to be certain. Jean-Paul thought quietly.

  “It’s not what’s best, Cherie. We have much at stake. My goal is to win your family’s approval, not destroy it. If we were found out…”