Page 90 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
“Okay, so you worked at Mère Macaron, it was wonderful but awful… How does René play into that experience? Was he a customer?”
Simone clapped, a broad grin on her face. “No—well, not exactly? So when I would leave at night, sometimes this homeless guy would be sitting outside the back door to the shop. Not right up by the door in a creepy way, but off to the side a bit. I could tell he was trying to keep his distance and show me he didn’t mean any harm. I figured he probably ransacked the trash after we closed for the day and threw food out.
“Well, I saw him there some nights and just thought, ‘Why don’t I set some things out for him?’ So I put our day-old breads and sandwiches in a bag—sometimes something fresh if I could manage it—along with a cup of coffee just outside the back door so he could get it. I never saw him up close, but he looked young, like me, and I just felt bad. Hard times can fall on any of us.”
Violet sat wide-eyed. “Oh my God. The homeless kid was René!”
Simone froze, her smile dropping. “Why are you spoiling the story?”
“Sorry.”
Simone rolled her eyes, but with a smile. “Anyway,yes, it was René. He told me about it when we had the pre-Christmas party at your house, after you left and went in the kitchen with Jasper. I almost spit my muffin in his face, I was so surprised. He asked me to have dinner with him to say thank you. He said he was so disappointed in himself back then for the state he’d fallen into, but my leaving bags of bread, dessert and coffee for him outside the door gave him a little bit of hope. So I said yes to dinner.”
Violet wrapped her arms around her body, hugging herself. “Ohh, I really like this story.”
“Even though you spoiled it.”
“Even though I spoiled it. And how was dinner?”
“It was… pretty amazing. We talked a lot—comfortable conversation. Easy. At one point, he reached across the table and held my hands. He looked me in the eyes and sincerely thanked me for showing him kindness and called me beautiful. It was wonderful… and a little scary.”
“Why scary?”
Simone sighed, looking down at her fork as she slowly twirled it with her fingers. “I’m comfortable alone. I’m content and I’ve made that decision. But then this tall, ridiculously good-looking man comes along and I don’t know. I don’t want… I don’t want my peace to be disrupted by hope and then yet another letdown.”
“Aw, Simone—”
“I know it sounds depressing, but it’s honestly how I feel. He asked me to dinner again.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him yes because I felt so swept up in the moment and conversation and candlelight. But now that I have a clear head, I’m thinking of cancelling.”
Violet reached across the table and wrapped her fingers around Simone’s wrist. When their eyes met, Violet said, “Don’t cancel. Go and enjoy. Let yourself enjoy.”
Simone frowned. “If I let myself enjoy now, what happens later when I’m in pain? What if I don’t want to go through that?”
“Maybe you won’t have to? And if you do, I’ll be with you. We’ll go through it together and I’ll hold you in the palms of my hands like a baby bird.”
Simone laughed. “I don’t think I’ll fit in the palms of your hands.”
“Then in my arms.” Violet stretched her arms out, declaring, “I’ll wrap you up tight and we can curse the day he was born. Well, not literally…”
“Alright, alright.” Simone smiled. “I do like the sound of that. You’re on.”
38
Now
The afternoon of New Year’s Eve spent with Jasper was shaping up to be like any other day with Jasper: quirky conversation littered with warm chuckles, hot liquids and harmless snuggles. Earlier, he had sat for his portrait and read quietly while Violet sketched. It was coming along nicely, she thought, but still needed a lot of work.
The eyes. Capturing the bright innocence laced with sharp intellect—the quiet mystery and depth of pain and solitude. A curse fighting against small sparks of hope… It was difficult to render. Maybe impossible within the confines of a flat, black-and-white sketch. She needed dimension, depth and shadows.Somethingto bring her a little closer to what she wanted to express.
“The detective called me yesterday,” Violet said, sitting tight against Jasper’s side on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she rested on her hip.
“Did they find your stuff?”
“No,” she said, taking a breath. “He thinks the chest and everything is gone. Jillian and some accomplice she was working with pawned it all, and they can’t find Gram’s chest. It’s really hurtful, you know?”
