Let Them Have Cake (25 page)

             
“No. Not really. A friend told me of your store and said you had some interesting merchandise,” Jeff offered.

             
The old man pushed the glasses further up his nose and tried to stand a bit straighter before asking, “Who would that friend be?”

             
Jeff and Anna exchanged perplexed looks before Jeff replied, “Maggie. Maggie O’Reilly. She’s an artist.”

             
The old man clasped his hands together and broke into a smile. “Of course. The beautiful Maggie. She sends me many clients.”

             
Anna and Jeff relaxed at this.

             
“May we look around?” Anna asked.

             
“Please do. I’ll be at my desk if you need any information.”

             
Without any further conversation, the old man limped to a
desk in the corner of the room, pulled out a chair, sat, and appeared to go immediately to sleep.

             
“Okay. Well, I guess we passed some sort of inspection,” Jeff said.

             
“This is too weird. Let’s go,” Anna said while tugging at Jeff’s arm.

             
“We didn’t ride all that way on the Metro just to turn around and leave. Besides, he’s just old. Let’s look at what he has before we go.”

             
“You’re right. I’m just being silly,” Anna said and relaxed a bit.

             
They were soon so involved in pouring through the piles of old clothing, cooking utensils, shoes, boots, and household goods that they forgot their unease. Most of the artifacts looked much more modern than French Revolution goods.

             
“I don’t think there’s anything here from the French Revolution era. This is just one old man’s collection of odd objects,” Anna said.

             
“I think you’re right. This is more of a second hand store than an antique store. Let’s look at this table of linens before we leave.”

             
Jeff walked to the next table and began pouring through the piles.

             
“Anna. Come here.”

             
“What is it? I’m ready to go. All the dust in here is making my allergies kick up.”

             
“You need to see this.”

             
Anna looked at the object Jeff held in his hands. It was a white linen handkerchief, similar to the one Marie Antoinette had given her. She took it from him and spread it out on top of the other linens.

             
“This is just like my handkerchief. Look, it has the same embroidered flowers on the edge. This one is really old, though. It has holes in it and is stained.”

             
“It’s the same design,” Jeff confirmed.

             
They stood silently, looking alternately at the handkerchief and then at each other. Disbelief turned into understanding, and then mutual belief.

             
“Your handkerchief looks new because it is new, right?” Jeff asked.

             
“I told you it was. I told you it was a gift to me from Marie Antoinette.”

             
Jeff sighed before saying, “I think we’d better search through every inch of this man’s store before we leave. Who knows what else is here.”

             
“I’m going to go through the chest that’s on the floor over there.” Anna pointed to the far end of the room.

             
“Okay. I’m going to check out these furs and then I’ll join
you.”

             
Jeff reached for the first fur and jumped back when it bit him.

             
“Shit. Ouch. This thing’s alive.”

             
“What’s wrong?” Anna asked.

             
“These aren’t furs. It’s a pile of cats and one of them nipped me when I tried to pick it up. Thank God it didn’t break the skin.”

             
“So, he’s got watch-cats on the job. Come over here and help me look through this chest.”

             
They carefully looked at every item in the chest, and were ready to go on to something else when Anna pulled out a group of cloth figures. She clutched them to her chest and began to cry.

             
“What is it? What did you find?” Jeff asked.

             
She held the figures out for Jeff. He took them gently and inspected them.

             
“Anna, I don’t know what to think.”

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

             
“I remember these. You made them. I mean Anne-Marie made them. How can that be?”

             
Anna stopped crying and drew to attention.

             
“What do you remember?”

             
Jeff shook his head in puzzlement.

             
“It’s strange, but I remember that they were for Marie
Antoinette to wear in her hair. I remember she wore the oddest hairdos.”

             
“Jeff, how would you know that if you weren’t there? I did make them for her to wear in her hair. I didn’t tell you about that. How could you have possibly known?”

             
“I don’t know, Anna, I don’t know.”

             
“Let’s go. I want these. I wonder how much he wants for them?” Anna asked.

             
“Let’s wake him up and ask,” Jeff said.

             
They approached the sleeping man. An enormous black cat was curled in his lap. Huge yellow eyes glared ominously at them as they stopped at the desk and gently patted the man’s exposed hand.

             
“Oh, there you are. I must have dozed off. So sorry. Did you find what you were looking for?”

             
The man pushed the cat to the floor, straightened himself in the chair, and came to attention.

             
“Actually, we weren’t looking for anything in particular. We were just looking. We did find an item that interests us, however. Anna, show him the figures.”

             
Anna spread the little cloth people figures out on the desk and asked the man, “How much do want for these?”

             
“Oh, goodness. I don’t know. I don’t know what they are or how old they are. I guess they are just some children’s toys.”

             
“Please. I like them. Don’t you have some idea of how much they’re worth or at least how much you want for them?”

             
“Madame. If you would like the little toys, I’ll part with them for twenty Euros.”

             
Anna smiled as she reached for her wallet. Jeff had the money out of his own wallet before she could even find hers. He handed it to the old man who immediately stuffed it into a drawer in the desk.

             
“How much for this handkerchief?” Jeff asked.

             
“You may have it. It is old and worn and you paid me a fair price for the toy figures.”

             
Jeff pocketed the handkerchief and said, “Thank you, sir. You’re very kind.”
             

             
“Madame, Monsieur. Please, come again to my little store. Anytime.”

             
“Thank you, Monsieur...Monsieur...”

             
The door closed behind them before they’d learned his name.

             
“That was certainly odd,” Anna commented.

             
“Odd but productive. I think we need to make a return visit before we go back to
California
. I’m afraid we missed something.”

***

             
Anna and Jeff walked hand in hand down the
Champs Elysees
. They stopped periodically to look in store windows and comment
on the fashions displayed there, but mostly walked in companionable silence.

             
“Are you tired yet?” Jeff asked.

             
“No. I’m fine. I’m enjoying this.” Anna released Jeff’s hand and put her arm through his. “Look at our reflection in the window. We look good together.”

             
Jeff smiled at the image reflected back at them. “That we do, Anna. We’re going to have a wonderful future together. We’ll make a great team.”

             
Anna hugged him and pressed her cheek against his chest. “Forever, right? We’ll be together always?”

             
“Of course. Apparently we’ve already been together since a century or two ago. Who am I to mess with history?”

             
“So, you’re beginning to come around, are you?”

             
“Yes, I guess I am.”

             
Jeff took her hand again, and they resumed walking. “Let’s  walk along the
Seine
, shall we?”

             
“There’s a bridge I’d like to see. I think we turn here.”

             
Anna turned right at the Place de la Concorde. They walked a short distance further and stopped when they came to the bridge spanning the
Seine
.

             
“This is it, Jeff. This is the Pont de la Concorde. It was built between 1788 and 1790 with stones from the Bastille.”

             
The bridge wasn’t particularly beautiful, but functioned to
connect Place de la Concorde on the Right bank to the Palais Bourbon on the Left bank. It was constructed of alabaster colored stone and was streaked with years of city grime. Graceful arches under the bridge allowed boats and barges to pass through.

             
“I shudder to think of what those stone blocks have witnessed in their years of use as prison walls,” Jeff said.

             
“I know. It makes me sad to think of what must have happened to the people I met in the hamlet. I hope my friends weren’t among the ones beheaded. Of course I know that Marie Antoinette was, but I’m thinking about Jacques, Genevieve, Monique and the others.”

             
“Don’t think about those things. It only makes you unhappy.” Jeff put his arm around her and started walking along the
Seine
. “Let’s sit down on this bench and watch the boats on the river.”

             
“There’s the
Bateaux Mouches
. Remember the night we cruised down the
Seine
on one?” Anna asked.

             
“How could I forget? That was the first time we realized we were in love,” Jeff replied.

             
“In this century, anyway.”

             
They watched the boats lazily floating up and down the river. A fisherman on the opposite bank pulled a large fish from the water and deposited it in a bucket at his feet before
casting his line once more. Several joggers passed by them without glancing their way. The air chilled and Anna shivered.

             
“Do you want to go to the hotel? Is it getting too cold for you?” Jeff asked.

             
“Not yet.” She snuggled into his arms. “Let’s stay a little longer.”

             
“Tell me more about your plan to become a nurse practitioner,” Jeff prodded.

             
“Where did I leave off?”

             
“You told me your aunt left you enough money for you to be able to work part time and go to school at the same time. Where are you going to apply?”

             
“I’ll probably apply to Cal State L.A. They have a good program. I don’t think it will take me too long, and then I’ll be set in a career for the rest of my life,” Anna answered.

             
“You’re already set in a career with the tremendous nursing shortage that’s going on. You’ll never be without a job.”

             
“Yes, but I’m thinking about when I’m older and it will be too hard to do bedside nursing. You do realize it’s hard work.”

             
“How hard can flirting with doctors all day long be?” Jeff playfully asked.

             
Anna frowned at him and pulled her hand away. “I’m serious. It is hard work.”