Elodie and Heloise (11 page)

“And thanks for asking me. I like this, taking turns asking each other on dates. Next time, I’ll have to do the asking.”

Heloise chuckled. “You don’t have to.”

“No no I insist. You asked me out for this one, now I’m going to ask you out for our next date.” He looked on at her with a joyful face, his eyes brightening as he spoke those last words as if he was already planning ideas for their next date. “Let’s keep it simple and hang out at my house on Sunday afternoon?”

“Sounds good to me.” Heloise unwrapped herself from around Kyle’s arm and took his hand in hers, the two of them facing and looking at one another, wondering who should make the first move or not. It had been two months but neither of them had kissed other than light kisses on each other’s cheeks. Maybe tonight would be the night for lips?

It was not to be. They both looked at one another but neither of them made any move other than a kiss on the cheek. Tonight wouldn’t be the night. 

“
Bonne nuit, Heloise
,” Kyle spoke, letting go of her hand. They both turned away from one another, Heloise walking toward the front door and Kyle walking down the front steps. She watched as he strode towards his house, with Kyle occasionally looking behind him to see if Heloise was still there watching him or not. She remained there until he walked into his house, and only then did she open up the front door and immediately close it behind her.

Heloise threw herself against the door with a huge sigh, her eyes closed and hands behind her back. The entire evening came back on her in one fell swoop. Are we boyfriend and girlfriend though? He hasn’t even kissed me beyond just kissing me on the cheek.....Then again, we are both pretty shy people.

When she opened her eyes, she saw her father watching television across the room, or at least pretending to be watching. Elodie and her mother were nowhere to be found. All the better. She was in too good of a mood to want to see her sister right now.

“Et alors, tu as passée une bonne soirée avec Kyle?”
Francis saw his daughter enter the room and he immediately switched off the television.

“
Oui, une très bonne soirée.
” She sighed at the memories of that evening: holding Kyle’s hand in the movie theater, walking home with him in the cold night air and feeling his warmth as he pulled her close to him, and their animated conversations.

“He is a very nice boy,” Francis remarked, patting the seat on the couch next to him. “I can see every time he comes over to practice French with you. He looks at you like I still look at your mother. And he respects you too. You have chosen well,
ma fille
. Much better than some of those boys that your sister brings home.” He punctuated that last thought with a snicker and a nudge on Heloise’s shoulder.

“
Merci bien, Papa.
” She felt the blood rush to her cheeks, delighted that her father liked someone who had become so important in her life for the last two months. Her father meant the world to her, and though he didn’t express himself as much as her mother, whatever he didn’t say, he made up for in his actions: the caring way that he showed her how to play chess for the first time, his endless support of her academic endeavors, and the time he spent showing her how to cook and passing on his French recipes to her. 

“I do not worry about you like I do with your sister. You stick with your studies instead of getting wrapped up in all the superficial things that she does. I have never worried about you. You have a good, sensible head on your shoulders, and you should be very proud of what you have done. You have always been such a smart girl and I am glad you have found someone that appreciates you as you should.
Viens ici, ma fille.
” He held out his arms for Heloise and she gladly accepted her father’s warm embrace.

“Now I have an idea for doing something for dinner tomorrow that I do not think I have ever shown you. Have I shown you how to make coq au vin?”

“I’m surprised to say that I don’t think you ever have.”

“Well, tomorrow I will show you how to make it.”

“Wonderful!”

She and her father hugged once more, wished each other bonne nuit, and then she broke away to go get her shower. She then heard the distinct sound of fingerpicking and soft singing coming from the study room. Had to be Elodie. She’d made a habit of going into the study room to play her guitar and sing to herself, though Heloise did not express any other interest in her sister’s activities beyond that.

As Heloise opened the bathroom door, she heard the study room door open from across the house. She heard soft footsteps on the hardwood floor, and sure enough, when Heloise turned around she saw her sister emerging from the study room looking a bit drained in the face.

Elodie saw her sister and acknowledged her with a blank stare. If this had been four years ago, Heloise would have been more than happy to gush about her date with Kyle. But Elodie didn’t need to know about her love life. They weren’t at that place anymore and hadn’t been for a very long time. 

“
Bonne nuit.
”

“
Bonne nuit.
”

And that was that. Heloise went into the bathroom and switched on the light. As she began disrobing, she heard her sister’s footsteps go past the bathroom door on her way to their bedroom. By then, Heloise had switched on the bathroom fan and started up the water in the shower. Their bedroom door slammed and Heloise let out a sigh. 

The weather was cloudy and misty as Elodie cut through the town park on her way home from school one afternoon, trying to delay the thought of doing homework and chores. The clouds hung low and gray over Shady Valley, typical late March weather that painted the town in dark hues and made everything, even a place as bright and welcoming as the park, look unfriendly. At least spring would be coming soon. It was not as cold today as it had been for the last few weeks.

In any case, it was the perfect afternoon for Elodie to brood and write a new song.

Her frustration when she saw Quentin with Veronica had dissipated, so when she watched them holding hands in the hallway or making eyes at one another, she didn’t care much anymore. In fact, she started seeing them less often together, leading her to believe that maybe they weren’t as hot and heavy as they used to be. 

Little did she know that soon, those suspicions would be confirmed.

That afternoon, hardly anyone was in the park for the moment. Figures, Elodie thought to herself as she sat down on a bench near the quiet fountain that was not running in the lingering cold of March. It’s such a cold day. At least this will give me peace and quiet for writing.

Elodie set her backpack down on the bench and she took out a pen and her new writing notebook, which was tucked away behind her other books in her backpack. She opened the book to the last page she wrote anything on, a page that was scribbled with all sorts of potential lines for a song. There were lots of short ideas written on that page in various color inks: into the woods, happiest girl, time for silence, white houses..... None of them really drew up any inspiration at the moment, so Elodie looked off into the distance, tapping out a rhythm with her pen.

Da da. Da da. Da da da da. Da da. Da da. Da da da da.

“I’ve been into the woods and out again. Into the woods, glad to be out again. Into the woods, into the woods.” She softly sang a melody against her made-up-on-the-spot rhythm, repeating that phrase “into the woods.” “I’ve been into the woods and out again. Now I’m shaking off the pain. It’s time to let you go. Time to let you go......” Never had she felt more free than when she half-sang, half-spoke those lines. It was a perfect chorus, she just knew it. A bit awkward start but it was only a first draft. It wasn’t supposed to be perfect.

She quickly turned to the next page in her notebook and began writing. First came the chorus. Then came pieces of verses:

I tried to dance, all I saw was your face

It was your voice and lies I couldn’t erase

I wanted to pour myself into your well

But all you did was give me hell

You led me deep into your woods

To everything I thought was good

Then tricked me with illusions

And left me with bitter confusion

You were the saint, then a sinner

And I thought I was your winner

Yeah I’ve been into the woods and out again

Now it’s time to shake away this pain

It’s time to let you go, time to let you go

And the rest seemed to write itself. Elodie frowned when she looked over what she’d written, not sure how she really felt about it. Maybe it’ll sound better with music, she thought to herself, staring at the page of what she’d just written. It’s a first draft remember. It’s not supposed to be perfect.

She found her thoughts drifting away from the words she’d written, staring off into space while tapping her pen against her notebook. Instead her mind was a complete blank, empty of anything of substance that could be used for songwriting or much of anything. 

Suddenly, her concentration was broken by loud voices over on her right side about five hundred feet away. She turned her head to see what was going on, and that was when she saw Quentin’s lanky figure and Veronica’s almost masculine shape standing near the fountain at the center of the park. Elodie had not even noticed they had been standing there talking for a while, since she didn’t pay much attention to Quentin these days.

Yet there they were, engaged in such a deep discussion that they took no notice of Elodie watching them. She could not hear much of what was being said, but she could tell something not so good was happening. All at once, they began arguing, Quentin reaching out for Veronica to embrace her and Veronica yelling at him to not touch her and pulling away from him.

“Cheater!” she screamed. She stalked away in her tall boots as Quentin desperately followed her, telling her to come back and that it didn’t mean anything, whatever it was. Veronica however was far too quick for him and she quickly disappeared into the distance. Quentin couldn’t catch up, so he stopped following her and instead stood there in the park with a very sheepish look on his face. 

He started walking back toward the fountain when his eyes fell on Elodie. He paused as they stared at one another for about thirty seconds. He knew she had seen what happened. Even from this distance, Elodie could see it in his eyes. No matter. What did he expect in such a public place?

With a toss of her hair over her shoulder, Elodie turned back to her notebook and reviewed what she had written, ignoring Quentin’s eyes still looking at her in hopes that he would not come over to talk to her. It did the trick. The next time she looked up, he was gone and she was relieved. She stared at her writing and realized that nothing more was coming to her, so she decided to give her mind a break.

“Guess that’s it for my writing today.” 

Elodie shut her notebook and put it back in her backpack. As she did so, her eyes came to rest on a young man who looked a few years older than she, walking a small black dachshund around the center fountain. Though to Elodie’s eyes, it looked more like the dog was walking his master than the other way around. The dog tugged repeatedly on his leash, fascinated by something in the grass that no one else except he could see. The young man sighed in frustration as the dog paused in the middle of the grass, sniffing something very intently.

Could that be..... But wait, I thought he’d moved away.....  

He wore a heavy black coat over a pair of loose jeans and heavy brown boots with slightly unbrushed light brown hair parted in the middle. Bushy eyebrows framed his light blue eyes and his intense, angular face stared straight ahead, not noticing that Elodie was watching him, while thin glasses perched on his nose as he watched whatever he was looking at. From the way he peered off into the distance, he appeared to be thinking intensely about something.

Suddenly his eyes came to rest on something near Elodie and she got a closer look at his face. That was when it all came back to her. She knew exactly who he was. 

Duncan, that was his name. The guy who used to be good friends with Elodie when they were kids despite the two-year age difference. His mom and Shannon were also good friends, so Duncan would come over to their house occasionally and play around in their pool on sweltering, humid summer days or play with her, Heloise, and Noah up in their treehouse. Then he stopped coming over because he and his family were going to move away during the summer before she and her sister started fifth grade.

How could I forget him. 

My first major crush. 

She’d had the biggest crush on him for those summers that he would come over to play, wondering in her young mind whether he liked her too, though she was way too shy to do anything about it. That was before she became really popular, when she wore thin black glasses for her slight near-sightedness, before she insisted that her mother give her contact lenses because no one popular ever wore glasses. When she was constantly bullied in school for looking different than everyone else. She was a completely different person then. 

However, she and Duncan were never anything more than friends. He was just the type of guy that she secretly liked but would have never admitted to her friends: tall, a little bit skinny but not like a string bean, and slightly messy brown hair that looked good no matter what. There was something about a guy’s slightly unkempt hair that Elodie really liked, and she still liked it. Seeing him always made her day that much brighter. It also helped that no matter what, he was always there with a friendly hug and a cheerful word when she was feeling upset.

Elodie wasn’t sure how long she was watching Duncan for, or even if he noticed her watching. But even from twenty feet away, she was just as entranced with him as she was as a little fourth grader, only even more so now. He ran his fingers through his hair, waiting impatiently for the dog to do its business, and Elodie thought she would become a frozen puddle on that bench.

Going over to strike up a conversation with a guy was not a usual problem for Elodie, but seeing her old crush brought back so many memories that Elodie had previously forgotten. She was taken back to being an awkward fourth grader with glasses on her nose and bangs covering her forehead, before she really knew any better about how to look her best. Despite not having seen him for seven years, Duncan did not look that changed, except that of course he stood about five feet nine, obviously much taller than he was seven years ago, and his face was a little more filled out. He still wore those black wire-rimmed glasses and his casual taste in clothes hadn’t changed either. If anything, seven more years added to his appearance made him even more handsome to Elodie’s eyes. She couldn’t stop watching him, looking him up and down from his big boots up to his face.