Hidden in Paris

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Hidden in Paris Page 31

by Corine Gantz


  “I feel better,” Althea answered, and she did feel wonderfully relaxed at the moment.

  Madame Defloret looked straight at her. “You need to listen to this, Althea. This is a serious matter. You might not be able to assess things accurately. Your body is completely run down by this, and most likely there was a grave toll on your emotional welfare as well. In my experience, even with the best of intentions and family support, you won’t be able to overcome this on your own.”

  Althea blinked, her eyes wanted to close. “On my own,” she echoed.

  “I work for the eating disorder department at Sainte-Anne Hospital. We have a wonderful service that deals specifically with your kind of problem. We don’t always have spaces available, but I have a spot for you.”

  Althea looked incredulously at Madame Defloret. She couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “Do you have any questions, dear?”

  Althea’s words and thoughts struggled to come out “How...do you know...for sure I have a mental...anorexia?”

  “Honey, you weigh ninety pounds and measure five-foot-seven. The ratio alone is a real indication of malnutrition. When was the last time you had your period?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “I’m here to help. Do you want to be helped?”

  Tears swelled up in Althea from way down in her throat. “I don’t think you can help me.”

  “Oh,” Madame Defloret said with a smile, “I’ve helped young women such as yourself time and time again, even some whose lives were only hanging by a thread. I absolutely can help you. But you have to want to be helped. It will be hard work, but, dear, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.”

  Althea could no longer think or speak. She only found the strength to say, “Please, yes.”

  “Here is the paper you need to sign.” She placed a pen in Althea’s hand and Althea watched her hand sign on the line. In the far distance, she heard a voice. “She’s in. Let’s have her transported to Saint-Anne right away. Lucky girl.” And a moment later, Althea surrendered to sleep.

  Leaning against the school gate, Lucas rubbed his chin, surprised to find it rough with beard. He had not showered, brushed his teeth or shaved since the morning before and was still wearing the same clothes. Why, he practically looked like a transient. Now that Jared’s life was no longer in danger, Lucas had returned to worrying about Annie, or Annie as she pertained to him. The last playful words exchanged as she was running out of the hospital and back home to assist Lola had only reassured him briefly. He replayed the evening and the night in his mind, going from smiling to himself to feeling despondent. And now, why was he at the children’s school taking part in the charade between Lola and her husband? Maybe he should be at the house instead to make sure things were safe. Even if Lola’s husband wasn’t violent, Annie was just as likely to escalate a confrontation.

  The children came out, cutely dressed in school clothes and wearing backpacks. But the warm welcome he had expected did not happen. The children weren’t delighted to find him standing outside the school gate. Maxence looked at him accusatorily. “Why are you here?”

  “Your mothers,” Lucas started and then cleared his throat, “are visiting Jared and Althea at the hospital.”

  Maxence looked dubious. “I thought it was just Jared.”

  “What’s wrong with them?” Paul said.

  “It’s a complicated question and--”

  “Did he shoot her?” said Laurent.

  The children asked and asked, he noticed, but seldom waited for an answer. “Nothing of such a dramatic nature, I’m afraid.”

  “Are they dead, though?” Paul wanted to know.

  Laurent pushed him. “If they were dead, they’d be at the cemetery, not the hospital you turd-head.”

  “Are they bleeding at least?” Paul asked.

  Lia trailed behind. “Where are we going?”

  “We’re picking up your baby brother and then to the...”

  “When’s Mom coming back?”

  “...park,” Lucas continued, wondering about his blood pressure.

  Maxence raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? Why not the house?”

  Lucas had figured out a long time ago that the boy was exceptionally sharp. “That would be because...”

  Paul interrupted. “Which park?”

  Laurent made an awful face and held his throat. “I’m thirsty.”

  Lucas strained to continue, “...they forgot to give me the key.”

  “Whatever happened to your own key?” Maxence said.

  “I...misplaced it.”

  “Well, that sure is bad luck!” Maxence exclaimed, not buying it for an instant. Before he asked another one of those disagreeably inquisitive questions, Lucas took Maxence aside. This was the best thing to do, the only thing to do.

  “Lia’s father has come, quite unexpectedly I’m afraid, and there needs to be some grown-up discussion before...”

  Maxence nodded knowingly. “We’re in hiding then?”

  “Well... we... but... In a way...”

  Maxence patted Lucas on the arm. “Don’t worry, man. I’ll cover for you.”

  The group walked gingerly to Simon’s daycare and Lucas decided that his fear had been just plain silly. At the daycare, Simon was busy at work with Legos and did not want to leave. Finally he got up from the rug and followed them. But as soon as they were outside, Simon stalled.

  “What is it now, small one?” Lucas asked him.

  Lia shrugged. “He hates to walk.”

  “You could just carry him,” Laurent instructed. Lucas lifted Simon up onto his shoulders. The child was light but strangled him with his powerful little arms.

  There were too many of them, so a taxi was out of the question. Strong from his morning experience, Lucas decided he would take the children on the métro. He was a bit miffed when the kids casually took passes from their pockets and entered the station as easily as he would have entered Fauchon. Lucas studied the map and came up with an itinerary. They would have to change trains three times, but to get to Buttes Chaumont would present the advantage of being near the park and steps away from his apartment. They rode the métro from La Muette to Buttes Chaumont. At each métro change, Lucas lifted Simon onto his shoulders and huffed and puffed to the next train, the children complaining of thirst, heat and hunger the entire time.

  When they finally got out of the métro, Laurent said, “How come we didn’t take the métro at Passy? We would have had to change only once.” Lucas planted his gaze on the child and wondered if he should put his own understanding of the world into question. As they climbed up the steps out of the subway and toward the street, he nudged Simon. “Come on, little one. You can walk. I’ve seen you do it plenty of times.”

  “Mamma,” Simon began wailing.

  “How does your mother do this?” he asked Lia. “This gigantic baby must weigh over fifteen kilos!”

  “Mom?” Lia said. “She doesn’t carry him like that.”

  “She takes the stroller,” Paul added.

  “What stroller?” Lucas heard himself wail. “Where is it?”

  “At the daycare,” Laurent answered.

  Lucas wailed, “Should you not have told me about the stroller?”

  Lia just shrugged as if to say, “What is the problem with you?”

  At the park, Lucas was desperate to rest on a bench, but the children saw the ice cream vendor. From there on, things worsened. Lucas purchased five ice creams, but by the time the last child was served, the other four were a mess. The ice cream melted faster than they could eat it, and already their clothes and faces were smeared in horrible ways. Lucas made a silent prayer that Annie would call him and that he would not have to bring them up to his apartment. The playground was shaded and Lucas moaned with relief when he finally sat on the bench.

  “All right now. You can play,” he said and waved in the direction of the jungle gym.

  Lia planted herself in front of him.

 
“I need to pee.”

  The bathroom was within eye distance. He pointed to it.

  “Mom takes me into public bathrooms,” Lia told him, making a face.

  Indeed, the toilets of public parks had to be squalid, and what about the strange people that might be lurking around. But how could he take one child to the toilet and leave the other four unsupervised. The boys were busy amusing themselves with fighting other children on the playground. They called it play, but it was more like war. Youngsters could be remarkably aggressive, Lucas noticed, but he also noticed with contentment, and maybe a hint of pride, how his children formed a tight little clan against the others.

  Lucas turned to a mother on a nearby bench who had heaven knew how many children of her own. “Would you mind keeping an eye on those boys there?” He pointed to Lia. “This little lady needs to use the restroom.”

  He stood with great discomfort at the door of the girl’s bathroom. “The lock is broken,” he apologized to the mother and daughter waiting in line behind him.

  Lia’s voice came out of the stall. “There is no paaa-per! Can you hand me a Kleenex?”

  “Dear,” Lucas whispered, “I do not carry such things.”

  The woman behind him laughed and produced Kleenexes from her purse as though she were some kind of genius. Lucas thanked her as graciously as he could, considering he felt like clubbing her over the head. But already, on the playground, the woman allegedly supervising his children was yelling at Paul for hitting one of her brats with a plastic shovel.

  It was getting late. Annie had not called him and he knew better than to call her. How he was ready to bring the children back to their house. To hell with keeping them! But the thought of taking the métro again was more than he could bear. Of course his own apartment was five minutes away, but the thought of five children with shoes filled with sand and hands sticky with ice cream residue all over his Persian rugs made him shudder.

  The children, sensing his weakness, began making demands.

  “We’re hungry!”

  “You just had ice cream.”

  Laurent shrugged. “Ice cream doesn’t fill you up.”

  “It’s just sugar. Empty calories,” Lia added.

  “Empty?” Lucas echoed.

  “I have an idea. You go get the food,” Maxence suggested. “We’ll stay here and play.”

  “I regret, but this will not be possible.”

  Laurent pointed an ice cream smeared finger toward a yellow arch Lucas had never noticed in the past. “McDonald’s is right there,” he said.

  “Me want chicken nuggets,” Simon blurted out, followed by frantic orders from every kid:

  “I want a Whooper.”

  “They don’t do Whoppers dumbass.”

  “Can I have a toy with my happy meal?”

  Lucas stopped them by raising both palms. “Let me make something clear,” he said, “I refuse to set a foot in that horrible place.”

  “You never had MacDo?” Maxence was flabbergasted.

  “Never have, never will. Not only is it rubbish, but it is the symbol of American imperialism.”

  “What?”

  “France is the world’s capital of gastronomy, so why ingest the worst that the world has to offer?”

  “How do you know you don’t like it if you’ve never had it?

  “You’re like Sam I Am.”

  The children explained that it was an American joke about eating green eggs.

  “But it’s sooo good.”

  “But we’re really, really hungry.”

  Lucas discovered he was walking on the edge of the razorblade too late. “No McDonald’s! Never!” He yelled.

  The playground turned silent. Birds stopped chirping, dogs quit barking, and mothers and children froze. Everyone was staring at him as though he were a child abuser. Lucas hurried the children out of the playground. He felt quite famished himself. With the circus at the hospital, he’d had neither the time nor the enthusiasm for breakfast or lunch. He, too, needed to go to the bathroom but he could no longer ask those hostile mothers for favors. He resigned himself to bringing everyone to his apartment. He would make some pasta; maybe he had enough for a salad. He hoisted Simon on his shoulders, and now was also carrying Lia and Paul’s backpacks. He was fuming. The children could see he meant business and cooperated. But they all came to a stop in front of McDonald’s, jumping up and down, begging and claiming starvation. The fact was, he was starving. Really starving. He had not eaten a thing in nearly twenty-four hours.

  The double cheeseburger with bacon turned out to be surprisingly tasty.

  Chapter 27

  Giving a bathroom break as an excuse to leave the kitchen, Annie left Mark and Lola alone and rushed to her bedroom to call Lucas. She wasn’t going to miss much. Mark seemed on his best behavior in her presence, asking only carefully crafted questions about the children, which Lola answered happily. Whatever was really on Mark’s mind was well concealed and he sounded nothing like the a-hole he had been on the phone. In her bedroom, Annie sat on her bed and dialed Lucas’ number. It was well after six p.m.

  “What’s the news on Althea and Jared?” she asked right away.

  Lucas answered with an injured voice. “I called about every hour, both are stable and safely hospital bound at least for the weekend. And Althea is being transferred to that service that takes care of her ... issue.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “My apartment is ransacked, I have a terrible headache and I still haven’t had a chance to take a shower,” he said.

  Annie smiled to herself. “Welcome to the last ten years of my life,” she said.

  “I’m glad you called,” he said, “there’s been this thing on my mind, I wanted to ask you if --”

  “Mark is so smooth. You’d think he’s just here on a little visit. If I did not know better, which I do because I heard with my own ears what he is capable of, I’d think Lola was a lying sac of dung. But so far he’s been entirely in control and he’s not said the least aggressive thing. I’d bet he’s waiting for the moment he can be alone with her to rip her a new one.”

  “Do you believe him to be dangerous?”

  “I can’t imagine he would be, unless I’m a poor judge of character. Still, you should see how much power he has over Lola.”

  “Who doesn’t have power over her?” Lucas sighed.

  “I’m enjoying the challenge.”

  “I’m delighted you’re having such a wonderful time,” he said with defeat in his voice.

  “Oh come on, how bad can it be? They’re wonderful children.”

  “Yes, wonderful. And absolutely filthy. And all over my nineteenth-century Kurdish rug. They’re watching television now.”

  Annie took a breath, mustering courage for what she was about to ask of him. “I really think we should keep the children away from the house. Lola and Mark need to be alone to sort things through. The kids’ presence would jeopardize any chance of an adult conversation.” On the line there was silence, then a heartbreaking moan. Annie braced herself. Of course Lucas already knew what she was about to say. “We need to find a solution for the night,” she added.

  “I can’t possibly... ”

  “You have to.”

  “But there is no room, no beds. I can’t very well make them sleep on the floor can I? And doesn’t this man have the right to see his children?”

  “He’s got no rights in my book.”

  “Meanwhile, I’m being an accessory to a crime.”

  She sighed, “Oh now the big words.”

  “Annie,” Lucas hesitated, “I need to ask you something.”

  “Besides he’ll see them. Only not tonight. Listen, I have to get back to Lola and Mark.”

  “There is the possibility of my cabin in Honfleur. We could get there in about two hours by car. There are enough beds. But my car is too small. We would need your van.”

  “Honfleur! The beach!” she yelped. “Oh Lucas, I could hug you righ
t now!”

  “About that, I wanted to ask you if...”

  “I’ll load up the minivan and pick you and the kids up and off to Honfleur!”

  “You! Pick us up?” he asked.

  “So what?”

  “You don’t drive anymore, remember?”

  “I’ll drive the darn thing to your place, and you can do the drive to Honfleur.”

  “Lola’s not coming?”

  “That’s the whole point. She needs to stay and humor that Neanderthal.” She teased, “Are you worried to find yourself alone with me?”

  “Alone? With five children?” Lucas said. “Let me ask you something.”

  “I better pack bathing suits!”

  “Annie, we’re not going anywhere until you shut up for a second and listen to me!”

  She wanted to hang up while she was still ahead. “I’m all ears, she said after a long pause.”

  “Did you...?” Lucas cleared his throat, “well, was last night meaningful to you?”

  “Meaningful? Of course, it was meaningful,” she mumbled.

  “Annie, help me out here.”

  “Don’t we have the weekend to talk about this?”

  “Would it be more towards the positive-meaningful, or the negative-meaningful?” Lucas asked.

  Her mind went blank. She was not prepared to answer that question, any question.

  “Annie?”

  Her nose felt prickly. “You’re pretty cute, you know.”

  “I’ll take that as a positive, then?”

  She looked around the room for a Kleenex. She’d be damned if he heard her cry. “I would. Yes, definitely.”

  “Are you really sure about driving the van?”

  “Listen, I can drive the van, okay?”

  “All right, all right. We’re waiting. Bring vast quantities of aspirin.”

  The drip into her arm was gone and replaced by a small bandage. She did not feel weak anymore, but she was exhausted despite sleeping so deeply for hours that she did not even feel herself transported by ambulance from the hospital to where she was now. Althea dressed herself, stepped into the hallway, and asked for the room where she was supposed to meet Madame Defloret. She walked through several hallways, refusing to make eye contact. It was after nine p.m. and the light of the day was only now showing signs of waning. Outside, the sky had a purplish tint. Every window in this place had a metal screen over it, like a prison. She entered a room that resembled a classroom. In the center of the room, ten chairs had been arranged in a circle. Madame Defloret sat in one of the chairs. A long strand of pearls rested on her motherly bosom. “Have a seat, Althea,” she smiled. “The rest of our little group is about to arrive for our evening meeting.”

 

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