Papa can’t keep the shop. It’s a hard truth he’ll have to understand.”
“But—where will we go?” Aubrielle sniffed.
“You’ll both move in with me, of course. I rattle around in an empty apartment. Besides, I’m over here more than at home.” She nodded and pulled Aubrielle close.
Aubrielle clung to the dear woman as equal parts defeat and relief washed over her. “Why would you do that for us?”
“Here now, enough tears.” Tante Mae pushed Aubrielle’s dark hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “Your Mama was my dearest friend for many years. She held my hand when my beloved Oscar died.” Mae lifted Aubrielle’s chin and met her gaze. “She and I swore to take care of each other, and before she passed, I promised her I’d watch over you and your Papa.”
“Are you sure?” Aubrielle shook her head. “How can we impose like that?” Tears slipped from her eyes, and she hung her head.
“Ah, my sweet Brie. It would be easier for me to have you close so I can tend to Lou.” She lifted Aubrielle’s chin with her finger. A smile lifted the corner of Mae’s lips. “There is even room for Éclair in the back if need be. You could still sell your flowers.”
Aubrielle wiped her face and grinned at Tante Mae. “I am done with selling flowers. Soldiers do not buy them, and the tourists have left Paris.”
“Well then, you’ll have to sell something else. How about baguettes and croissants? I have plenty and soldiers need to eat.”
“That’s true, but there is another boulangerie selling croissants in the park.”
“There will be room for two. It is a very large park.”
CHAPTER 8
John held his sea chest beneath his arm. The flowers in one hand and his bag in the other. He admired the dark-haired beauty.
My love!
She was young, but certainly no child.
In his heart, John made a solemn vow, one he made each time his eyes first rested on his soul mate’s new face.
I will love and protect you all the days of your life.
The flower vendor barely glanced at him as she pocketed his coins. She kept her chin tucked, and her eyes downcast while she unblocked the pony cart and led it away.
John clenched his teeth and took a slow breath as she vanished into the fog. He shoved the bouquet of flowers into the trash receptacle, and with renewed determination, he pursued her into the cloud bank.
I don’t even know her name.
Far enough behind to remain hidden by the fog, but near enough to reach her should a need arise, John kept pace with the young woman. He could do nothing else. From the end of an alley, he watched as she closed the gate behind her cart. As soon as she climbed the stairs to her house and disappeared inside, John circled the block. She lived on a winding street of vendors, above a millinery shop. He passed the busy boulangerie next door, and the smell of fresh bread followed him around the corner.
On the street of shops behind her house, he found what he wanted—a sign in the butcher shop window. Appartement à louer. Inside the store, John spoke to the owner about the apartment rental.
From the third-floor living room window, John’s view was of the back of the bakery. Next door to the boulangerie , Agaria’s covered flower cart stood beside the small stable.
“There is a box to receive mail at the bottom of the stairwell.” The butcher walked through the living area and stopped in the kitchen. “The furniture comes with the apartment unless you have your own.”
“I don’t.” John inspected the bedroom and water closet. “I’ll take it.”
“For how long, monsieur ?” the butcher inquired.
“Indefinitely, mon ami . I have business in town.”
“That is good for us both, no?” The butcher stopped outside the door. “There are two keys in the kitchen drawer. You may pay your rent on the first.”
* * *
Aubrielle turned off the light in her father’s room and softly closed his door. She made her weary way
“But—where will we go?” Aubrielle sniffed.
“You’ll both move in with me, of course. I rattle around in an empty apartment. Besides, I’m over here more than at home.” She nodded and pulled Aubrielle close.
Aubrielle clung to the dear woman as equal parts defeat and relief washed over her. “Why would you do that for us?”
“Here now, enough tears.” Tante Mae pushed Aubrielle’s dark hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “Your Mama was my dearest friend for many years. She held my hand when my beloved Oscar died.” Mae lifted Aubrielle’s chin and met her gaze. “She and I swore to take care of each other, and before she passed, I promised her I’d watch over you and your Papa.”
“Are you sure?” Aubrielle shook her head. “How can we impose like that?” Tears slipped from her eyes, and she hung her head.
“Ah, my sweet Brie. It would be easier for me to have you close so I can tend to Lou.” She lifted Aubrielle’s chin with her finger. A smile lifted the corner of Mae’s lips. “There is even room for Éclair in the back if need be. You could still sell your flowers.”
Aubrielle wiped her face and grinned at Tante Mae. “I am done with selling flowers. Soldiers do not buy them, and the tourists have left Paris.”
“Well then, you’ll have to sell something else. How about baguettes and croissants? I have plenty and soldiers need to eat.”
“That’s true, but there is another boulangerie selling croissants in the park.”
“There will be room for two. It is a very large park.”
CHAPTER 8
John held his sea chest beneath his arm. The flowers in one hand and his bag in the other. He admired the dark-haired beauty.
My love!
She was young, but certainly no child.
In his heart, John made a solemn vow, one he made each time his eyes first rested on his soul mate’s new face.
I will love and protect you all the days of your life.
The flower vendor barely glanced at him as she pocketed his coins. She kept her chin tucked, and her eyes downcast while she unblocked the pony cart and led it away.
John clenched his teeth and took a slow breath as she vanished into the fog. He shoved the bouquet of flowers into the trash receptacle, and with renewed determination, he pursued her into the cloud bank.
I don’t even know her name.
Far enough behind to remain hidden by the fog, but near enough to reach her should a need arise, John kept pace with the young woman. He could do nothing else. From the end of an alley, he watched as she closed the gate behind her cart. As soon as she climbed the stairs to her house and disappeared inside, John circled the block. She lived on a winding street of vendors, above a millinery shop. He passed the busy boulangerie next door, and the smell of fresh bread followed him around the corner.
On the street of shops behind her house, he found what he wanted—a sign in the butcher shop window. Appartement à louer. Inside the store, John spoke to the owner about the apartment rental.
From the third-floor living room window, John’s view was of the back of the bakery. Next door to the boulangerie , Agaria’s covered flower cart stood beside the small stable.
“There is a box to receive mail at the bottom of the stairwell.” The butcher walked through the living area and stopped in the kitchen. “The furniture comes with the apartment unless you have your own.”
“I don’t.” John inspected the bedroom and water closet. “I’ll take it.”
“For how long, monsieur ?” the butcher inquired.
“Indefinitely, mon ami . I have business in town.”
“That is good for us both, no?” The butcher stopped outside the door. “There are two keys in the kitchen drawer. You may pay your rent on the first.”
* * *
Aubrielle turned off the light in her father’s room and softly closed his door. She made her weary way
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