Let Them Have Cake (22 page)

             
“I promise.”

             
He smiled and squeezed Anna’s hand. His blue eyes sparkled and a bit of sunlight was reflected in the pupils. For a brief
moment, Anna saw Geoffroi instead of Jeff. She remembered that Geoffroi’s eyes had looked the same way the first time they’d made love. They’d been in his cottage and the light from a candle next to the bed was reflected in his eyes. She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply as she leaned closer to Jeff. He stopped walking and took her in his arms. She clung to him and buried her face in his chest in order to hide the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. His masculine scent was mixed with the scent of wool from the sweater he was wearing. She felt like she was in Geoffroi’s arms and the thought made her begin to sob.

             
“Anna? What’s wrong? You’re shaking.”

             
“I don’t know.”

             
“Are you sick?”

             
“N...no.”

             
“Then what is it?”

             
She pulled away and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I was thinking about what I told you when I first woke up. About having been back in time, you know, in the hamlet.”

             
“Honey, you know that was a hallucination. It was because you were sick. That doesn’t happen. People don’t time travel.”

             
“It was so real, Jeff. I can’t believe I wasn’t there. I met people. I made friends. They thought I was my ancestor, Anne Marie Toussaint. I met the man she was in love with. His name
was Geoffroi Andrieux.”

             
“Anna, Geoffroi Andrieux was my ancestor. Remember? I told you his name. You were dreaming. That’s what we’ll call it. That sounds better than hallucinating.”

             
“You’re probably right, but it was all so very real. What about my linen handkerchief? The one Marie Antoinette gave me?”

             
“What about it?”

             
“Well, look at it. It’s really old. Where would I have gotten such a thing?”

             
“I don’t know, Anna. If it will make you feel better we’ll take it to an antique dealer and see if they can tell how old it is.”

             
“Okay. That’s a good idea. I’ll wash it and press it out when we get back to the hotel.”

             
“We’re almost there. Let’s go into this little market here and buy the wine for tonight.”

             
They entered the tiny market and scanned the aisles until they found the special wine they’d shared prior to Anna becoming ill. Jeff purchased two bottles and they resumed their walk to the hotel.

             
Anna thought about the painting she was going to be seeing later tonight. She couldn’t remember exactly what it looked like, but did remember that it had given her an eerie feeling when she’d first seen it. She wished it were
eight o’clock
.

Chapter 20

             
“Jeff, Anna, come in. I’m so pleased you agreed to come for dinner.” Maggie took their coats and led them to her quaint kitchen.

             
“The pleasure is ours.” Jeff handed Maggie the bottles of wine and a bouquet of flowers they had purchased from a stand on the corner by Maggie’s building.

             
Maggie took the flowers and reached for a large vase to put them in. She filled the vase with water, and then expertly arranged the irises, daffodils and tulips.

             
“These are lovely,” Maggie said. “It was thoughtful of you to bring them.”

             
“You certainly have an artist’s eye for arranging them. They do look beautiful,” said Jeff.

             
Anna glanced around, hoping to see the painting displayed, but it was nowhere in sight.

             
“Where do these flowers come from at this time of year?” asked Anna.

             
Maggie glanced at the vase. “The flowers are imported from
Holland
where they’re grown in hothouses year round.”

             
Anna walked into the tiny living and dining room combination and continued her search for the painting.

Maggie and Jeff entered, carrying glasses of wine. Jeff handed Anna hers.

             
“Where’s the painting?” Anna asked.

             
“It’s in my studio. It’s actually an enclosed balcony off my bedroom, tiny, but with good lighting so I paint there when the weather is bad.”

             
“Can we see it?”

             
“Please, let’s eat first. The
Fricassee de Mer et sa Julienne de legumes
is ready, and must be eaten at once. But first we have our
Salade de Tomates et Mozzarella.”
Maggie directed them to sit at the dining room table.

             
“I have no idea what we’re going to be eating, but it sounds interesting,” Jeff commented as he placed his napkin in his lap.

             
Maggie served the first course, which turned out to be tomatoes with mozzarella cheese. She next served a seafood dish of scallops, salmon, sole, carrots leeks and shallots, in a buttery sour cream and wine sauce. It was rich and delicious.

             
“This is luscious, Maggie. How did you learn to cook like this?” Anna asked.

             
“I made it a point to learn French cooking when I moved here. My French friends expect it. I’ve wondered how it is that the French have less heart disease with all the rich sauces they eat.”

             
“Jeff’s a doctor. Perhaps he knows. Jeff?”

             
“I think it is because they are more relaxed than we are and they drink more wine. That’s the solution. We all need to drink more wine,” Jeff said as he refilled their glasses.

             
“This meal is marvelous, Maggie. You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble,” Anna offered.

             
“I enjoy cooking, and it isn’t a terribly difficult dish. Would you like the recipe?”

             
“I would. How did you come to live in
France
?”

             
Maggie passed around dessert,
Pommes au Four
; oven baked apples.

             
“I followed a man here. I was working as a waitress in
Dublin
, in the
Temple
Bar district, and one night this handsome Frenchman walked in. I fell head over heels in love with him instantly.”

             
Maggie paused to clear the dishes away and to bring out a bottle of brandy.

             
“Anyway, he checked out of his hotel and moved into my flat with me and stayed a month. He encouraged me to paint full time and convinced me that I could make a living at it, that I was
really good. He talked me into moving to
Paris
because there’s more of an art culture here.”

             
“Did you move here together?” Anna asked.

             
“No. He had to return to go back to work. You know that Europeans take a month off at a time for vacation, don’t you?”

             
“I didn’t know that,” Jeff said. “Maybe I need to move to
Europe
. They’re more civilized here.”

             
“Anyway, I stayed behind and sold most of my belongings. I sublet the flat and packed up my art supplies and moved here. That was three years ago.”

             
Anna surveyed the apartment for signs of a male inhabitant. “Where’s your Frenchman?” she asked.

             
“Sadly, the love of my life turned out to be the love of another woman’s life, too. He was married. They had an open marriage and she was fine with him having a mistress on the side. I wasn’t though, so that was the end of my romance.”

             
“I’m sorry. That must have been terribly disappointing for you.” Anna reached across the table and took Maggie’s hand. Maggie smiled at her in appreciation of her empathy.

             
“I’m over it now. The move turned out to be a good thing. I’m able to make enough money to live on by painting for tourists. It doesn’t take me long to do a reproduction from a picture or postcard, and the rest of the time I’m able to work on my creative endeavors. It’s a good life here but I’m going to
return to
Dublin
one of these days. I’m not getting any younger.”

             
“I could make a joke that we aren’t, either, but I’ll be good. Seriously, though, it’s getting late and I need to get Anna back to the hotel. Can we see the painting?”

             
“I apologize. It’s so nice to have company that I’m afraid I’ve been keeping you too long. Come. Let’s go see it.”

             
They walked through Maggie’s tiny bedroom and stepped out onto a balcony that had been enclosed with windows. The view of
Paris
was breathtaking. Maggie turned on several strategically placed lamps and positioned one so that it shone on a canvas that was covered with a large cloth.

             
“I want you to know that I took extra care with this reproduction. I worked on it much longer than I usually do. As I told you earlier, it has been a favorite of mine since I first saw it in the Louvre. The couple looks so much in love, and strangely, they look like you two.”

             
She stood with one hand on the cloth covering the painting. “Are you ready?”

             
Anna grasped Jeff’s arm. “I think so. Please show us.”

             
Maggie swept the cloth away and Anna thought her heart was going to stop. She held her breath and clutched her chest. Chills were coursing up and down her spine. It was the painting that Jacques had done of them in the hamlet. There was Geoffroi
in his hunting clothing, so handsome and strong. His blue eyes sparkled and he had his hand on Anna’s shoulder. Now, though, Anna could see that he looked just like Jeff, except that he was wearing a beard. How could this be? When she’d first seen the painting in the
Tertre Square
she’d noticed how much the woman had resembled her. Now she knew why. It was Anna in the picture.

             
“It’s me. Do you see that, Jeff? I told you I was there in the hamlet. It’s me, masquerading as Anne-Marie Toussaint, and I’m with Geoffroi Andrieux. Don’t you see?”

             
“Honey, that looks a lot like you, sure. But that doesn’t mean you were there. He looks like me, too. They’re our ancestors. That’s why they look like us.”

             
Maggie offered, “She does look like you. If your hair was done like that and you were wearing the same type of clothing, you could definitely pass for the woman in the picture. But, I agree with Jeff. It couldn’t possibly be you.”

             
Anna felt they were both placating her, and stood quietly looking at the painting. It was she and Geoffroi. There was no doubt in her mind. She reached into her wallet and pulled out $200.00 and handed it to Maggie.

             
“We agreed on $100.00. Why are you giving me this?” Maggie asked.

             
“You went to extra trouble, saving it for me. You didn’t know if I would ever be back. Please take it. It’s worth it to
me. I haven’t spent any money since I’ve been here. Can you wrap it so I can take it home?”

             
Maggie removed the painting from the stretcher bars, rolled it and inserted it into a cardboard tube for transporting. “Here, this way it won’t get damaged in travel. You can get it stretched and framed when you return home.”
             

             
“Thank you, Maggie, this has been a wonderful evening,” Anna said.

             
“Yes, thank you. We’re going to leave our addresses and telephone numbers so we can keep in touch. Who knows, you might get to
California
some day and we might get to
Dublin
.”

             
They exchanged addresses and bid each other good night. Maggie called a cab to take them back to the hotel.

             
Once they were outside, Anna said, “Do you see what I mean about that painting? I was there, Jeff, I was there.”