“Did she mind?”
“Not at all.” It was true, she didn’t mind. Charlotte was good about that; giving me my freedom. But not this much. How unfair. I tried not to think of her.
Julia spread her hands out along the railing and took a deep breath. “It’s the most beautiful view in the world,” she said finally.
“No, I have the most beautiful view in the world.” I pressed up against her back and put my arms around her waist, then rested my chin on her shoulder. She leaned back against me and turned her head to kiss my cheek.
“Did you and Daniel come up here?”
My stomach tightened. “It was closed.”
“He would have loved this view. He would hike all day just for a good view.”
“I can never be Daniel,” I said suddenly.
She turned quickly toward me. “I don’t want you to.” She stared into my eyes, then kissed me hard on the lips. I enjoyed the feel of her body pressed against mine.
“Let’s see Paris,” she said, taking my hand and heading back down the stairs.
We stopped first at Napoleon’s tomb, staring at the smooth red porphyry and imagining its contents. I tried to remember the various types of coffins but I couldn’t, so I read them out loud from a guidebook. Then I explained to Julia that the twelve large statues surrounding the tomb were winged goddesses of victory, each representing a different campaign. She pointed out that their heads appeared to be bent in eternal defeat. As we stood there I thought of Daniel standing on the same spot and rubbing his hands against the same smooth stone and I remembered how he was sadder that day than I’d ever seen him. Did he just know? Did he look at Paris and see all the things he would never be able to show Julia? It must have been awful for the men who just knew. There were so many of them.
When we left the Dôme des Invalides we walked to the Palais du Luxembourg and sat in the gardens talking, then stopped for lunch along the Boulevard Saint-Michel. We sat for two hours, telling stories and laughing and holding hands under the table. I’d never seen Julia so happy, and it made me wonder what she looked like before Daniel died.
After lunch we went for a stroll, leaning close and whispering comments about the various people passing by. “Look at those two,” I said, pointing toward a squat, boorish-looking man walking with a tall, spindly woman with ferretlike features. “Do you think opposites really attract?”
“Only until all the differences overwhelm them,” she said.
“So what about those two?”
“They are in the overwhelmed-by-the-differences stage.”
“No sex?”
“Two or three times a year. Lights out. Not a peep,” she said, wrapping her arm around mine. Then she tugged at me and said, “Look at that woman’s face there, the one on the bench. What does it tell you about her?”
I looked over at a middle-aged woman sitting alone, her purse clutched in her lap. “You tell me first. I want to know what you see.”
Julia studied the woman for a moment, then said, “She’s married, unhappily. She’s just discovered that her husband has a lover but she doesn’t really care because she’s no longer attracted to him. She has two children, maybe three, and it’s more work than she ever dreamed of. And now she’s sitting on the bench wondering how she got to this place in her life and trying to gather the strength to run her errands and return home.”
I looked back at the woman on the bench. Julia seemed exactly right.
“So what did you see when you first saw me?” I asked.
She was quiet for a moment. “That’s a hard question.” She opened her purse, pulled out a cigarette and lit one. “I’ll tell you. I saw a kind, compassionate man who was much lonelier than he dared to realize.”
I felt my eyes redden. I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
I shrugged. “You were right.”
“So what did you see when you first saw me?”
I ran my fingers through my hair, then shoved my hands in my pockets.
“You don’t have to answer that,” she said.
“I want to.” But how to put it?
She looked at me, waiting.
“I saw what I’d always been looking for.”
She smiled shyly, as though she didn’t really believe me. I wanted to continue but couldn’t think of what to say, not without saying too much.
We kept walking for a while, stopping to browse at the bookstalls along the quay. Then we bought a bottle of wine and sat along the embankment drinking and holding hands and watching the boats go by.
“I wish I had been able to find you, after the war,” I said.
“I wish you had too.”
“Things would be different.”
She nodded. “At least we finally met. I think Daniel would be glad of that.”
“I have to tell you that I feel guilty,” I said.
“That makes two of us.”
“Not just for Charlotte but for Daniel too.”
“Don’t feel bad for Daniel. Not because of us.”
“But I do.”
“Yes, I know. I see it in your eyes.” She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.
“You’re so different from Charlotte. I don’t understand how I could have possibly… ”
“You don’t need to tell me. It’s not my business. Anyway, it just makes me feel bad to hear about her.”
“Then I’ll stop,” I said.
“Besides, we can’t do anything to spoil this day.” She was smiling again.
When we finished the wine we got up and walked for a while, stopping to look at La Madeleine. Then we sat in a cafe and split a large piece of chocolate mousse cake. I dropped my piece in my lap, then dropped it again on my shoe as I tried to pick it up. Julia burst out laughing, momentarily choking on the piece of cake in her mouth. Then she hiccuped.
“Oh, Christ,” she said.
“Serves you right for laughing,” I said, leaning over my shoe and trying to scoop up the cake with my spoon.
She pounded her fist against her chest.
“Try holding your breath.”
“You don’t think I’ve tried that?” she said, hiccuping mid-sentence.
“Just a thought.”
“But there is something that might work,” she said, eyeing me with a sultry grin.
“Oh, really?”
“Really.”
When we got to her hotel room she unbuttoned my shirt and pants in silence, then slowly ran her hands along my chest as we stood by her bed. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse and slid out of her skirt. When she finished undressing I took her in my arms and carried her to the bed, then laid over her, supporting myself with my arms so that I could look down at her.
“You’re so utterly beautiful,” I said.
“So are you.” She raised her head and kissed me, then pulled me against her. As I slowly ran my lips along her neck, down to her breasts, to her stomach, she arched her back and gently rocked her head back and forth. When I entered her she whispered my name, then pulled me deeper into her and arched her back more. I held her with all my strength, slowly lifting her into the air.
After we made love we lay in bed for an hour looking at each other and listening to the sounds of the city below us. My mouth tasted of her sweat and every so often I pressed my nose against her flesh to breathe in the smell of her.
“I’ve thought about you my whole life,” I said, running my fingertips across her skin.
“But you didn’t know me.” Her face was right up next to mine and damp strands of hair were stuck to her forehead.
“But I did, don’t you see? It’s the strangest thing but I’ve always known you, only I couldn’t see your face until Daniel described you.”
“Then you saw my face?”
“Yes, quite clearly. I just never dreamed I would be able to touch it.”
When we made love again I was surprised by the strength of her arms and her legs
and when I was inside of her I wanted to tell her that I loved her but I didn’t. Or at least I don’t think I did.
Afterward as we lay against each other I felt my limbs trembling from exertion and when I tried to make a fist I couldn’t, which made me laugh.
“Why are you laughing?” she asked, nuzzling up against me.
“Because I feel so good,” I said.
“Me too.”
Her eyes watered.
“I’ve upset you.”
“No, it’s wonderful. It’s just that I haven’t been with anybody for years.”
I pulled her closer and kissed her eyelids.
“You should never be alone,” I said.
“Nobody should,” she whispered.
I DRESSED first and then sat in a chair in the corner and watched as she got dressed, pausing to sit on the edge of the bed to brush her hair.
“Let’s go to the track,” I said. “We could make the last couple of races at Auteuil.”
“You really want to? I’ve never—”
“We’ll hop in a taxi. Come on.”
She smiled and took my hand as we headed out the door.
We sat at the top of the grandstand, watching the field through a pair of rented binoculars. Julia quickly mastered the various strategies—more than I had after a dozen efforts—and soon established a complicated betting system based on the names of the horses and jockeys. She won two hundred francs.
“I had no idea it was so easy to make money,” she said, drawing stares as she tucked her latest winnings into her purse. I’d been losing precipitously.
“Maybe so, but you just don’t get that sense of achievement that follows a nine-hour workday,” I said, still breathless from running back and forth to the gambling windows.
Julia jumped to her feet again as the last race began and cheered her horse on. It was wonderful to see her so happy.
“I can’t believe they can clear those hedges,” she said, peering through the binoculars.
“Here comes the water jump,” I said.
Two horses fell. Only one got up.
“Is the jockey hurt?” I asked.
“No, he seems all right. But the horse can’t get up.”
“Is it yours?”
“No. I don’t care though, I just want it to get up.” She kept staring through the binoculars. The horse remained on its side.
“What will they do?” she asked, after the race finished and the grandstand began to empty out.
“They’ll wait until everybody leaves, then put it to death.”
“That ruins the whole thing, doesn’t it?” she said as we got into a taxi.
“Yes, I guess it does,” I said. For the rest of the ride into the city I couldn’t stop thinking of Giles telling me the best way to shoot a horse.
THE BRIDGES over the Seine were lit up when we got back and we walked for half an hour along the river watching the fishermen and the flatboats and the way the light played off the water.
Suddenly Julia stopped, pushed me up against a lamppost and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around the small of her back and pulled her against me. When we started walking again she smiled at me and said, “I’m famished.”
“Food?”
She nodded and said, “Then more kisses.”
I kissed her again. “Deal.”
We made our way to the Boulevard Saint-Germain where we stopped for dinner at a large brasserie.
As we took our seats Julia leaned toward me and asked, “Do you think I should have visited Daniel’s parents? I’ve thought about it a lot—they are Robin’s grandparents—but I couldn’t stand the idea of being turned away.”
“I don’t know. They’d be pretty old by now.”
“It bothers me,” she said.
“I can understand why.” I paused for a minute, then said, “You must miss your mother a great deal.”
She nodded slowly. “There are so many times when I wish I could ask her for advice. She was so good at the difficult decisions. I’m afraid that I’m not.”
How was I at the difficult decisions?
“And I wish Robin could have been old enough to know her. She was all the family I’ve got.”
“At least Robin’s got a wonderful mother like you.”
“But I’m not sure that’s enough. I worry about her, not having a real family, not having a father or aunts or uncles or grandparents or even a house full of memories.”
I couldn’t think of what to say. Finally I said, “I’d love to meet her someday.”
“Yes, I’d like that too.”
The waiter brought the menus. “Do you understand any of this?” asked Julia, looking up at me.
“Not a word. I just choose randomly.”
“Then I’ll have what you have.”
“Of course I may get the brains.”
“Don’t you dare.”
She picked up the wine list. “Do you feel like champagne? I’ve only had it once before.”
“Then let’s remedy that.” I ordered a bottle.
After we drank a toast I leaned forward and kissed her and said, “You know something? Daniel was right, everything does look different now.”
“What do you mean?” She was smiling.
“I mean that I’ve never seen things this way before. Not this fork or that plate or the people at the next table or the trees or the buildings or the sky. It’s all completely different.”
She reached over and squeezed my hand. Then her smile slipped from her face. “When I first met you at the monument I felt scared,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because certain people can change your life forever.”
Did she really believe I could change her life? No, I’d never be what Daniel was to her. Nobody could. “You’ve changed mine,” I said.
She nodded slowly. “To us,” she said, raising her glass.
“To us.”
She lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke up toward the ceiling. “What time do you have to get back?”
I looked down at my watch. “Not for hours.”
“Would you take me dancing then? Just for a little while?”
“As long as you promise not to laugh at me.”
“Why would I laugh at you?” she asked.
“Because I’m a lousy dancer.”
“Good, we’ll be perfect together.”
We found a small nightclub not far from the restaurant, ordered drinks and then danced nonstop for an hour, laughing and kissing and trying not to fall over each other. Julia was full of animation as she tried to show me some steps and I noticed how the band members watched her and how she made them smile and I realized that she was the kind of person who changed the feeling in a room, so that others suddenly feel that they are in the right place. Is that the secret of life, to surround yourself with people who are so full of passion, people who know sadness but not bitterness? I looked into her face, which was alive with excitement, and then into her eyes, which were full of all the things you can only say with your eyes.
“Now just move your left foot like this,” she said, demonstrating.
“You’re gorgeous,” I said, whispering into her ear.
“You’re not listening.”
“I was distracted. Anyway, I was raised not to stare at a woman’s feet.”
“I’m granting a special dispensation,” she said.
“I’ll take it,” I said, staring down at her legs as she demonstrated a dance step once again.
When we returned to our seats my shirt clung to my chest and back with sweat but I didn’t care. I wanted to stay out all night.
“This has been such a wonderful day,” said Julia, pulling her chair next to mine. “It’s so different from my life.”
“Mine too.” I thought about that: how I felt as though I’d walked right out of my previous life and all its constraints and assumptions, if only for a few hours. Then I thought of Sean lying in his bed asleep, curled up like a tiny animal. Did he wonder
why Daddy didn’t give him a kiss good night?
“I think it’s the unlived parts of our lives that fascinate us the most,” she said, swiveling her empty glass in her hand. “So much remains dormant.”
“But it doesn’t have to be that way.”
“No, but it usually is, isn’t it?”
We sat for a while and then danced again, until I stepped on Julia’s foot for the third time.
“It really doesn’t hurt,” she said, covering her mouth with her hands and trying to stifle laughter. “Honest.”
“Let’s give it a brief rest in any case,” I said. When we returned to our table a well-dressed man with a friendly red face approached us.
“You like the band?” he asked, leaning over us.
“They’re wonderful,” said Julia.
He nodded approvingly.
“You’re the owner?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said proudly.
“It’s a very lovely place,” said Julia.
He studied us for a moment, resumed his large smile and said, “You are engaged, no?”
“Oh, no—”
“Yes, yes we are,” I said. “How did you guess?”
Julia turned quickly and looked at me. I ignored her.
“I can always tell,” he said. “It’s in the language of the body and the eyes and the face. I never miss it. Allow me to buy you a drink.” He turned and signaled a waiter. Then he leaned toward me and said, “Your fiancée is very beautiful.”
“She is, isn’t she?”
Julia was still staring at me, blushing.
“When will you be married?”
I turned to Julia and took her hand. “Darling?”
She looked at me, then at the owner. “That’s a little tricky,” she stuttered. “Things to iron out and all. The relatives. Finding the right spot… ”
“Don’t put it off,” he said, looking at me. “Such a woman is easily lost.” He winked. I hesitated before winking back.
When he left Julia leaned over and pinched me. “You’re drunk,” she said, smiling coyly.
“I just wanted to see what it would feel like to say that. I hope you’re not embarrassed.”
“Maybe caught off guard.” She folded her cocktail napkin, then unfolded it. “So how did it feel?”
Losing Julia Page 28