Page 16 of Across Time

It was a little brave, I realize. And stupid, yes. But brave first and foremost.

I hide a smile. For the first time in ages, I feel as if I’ve done something right.

8

I spend the morning planting Marie-Therese’s pumpkin and watermelon seedlings in the sunny patch of ground to the side of the house.

When I come in at lunch time, Henri is already there. On the surface, nothing has changed between us. And yet I can feel the change before he even opens his mouth.

"Still here then, I see,” he says.

"Apparently God has answered your prayers."

"The only thing I've prayed for of late is more wild game to shoot." He looks me over, as if perhaps I am the wild game.

I grin. “So we’re back to death threats.”

He shakes his head. "I've given up on that plan. My day is already too full. There'd be no time to dig you a grave."

"You could always burn me," I suggest.

"Like the witch that you are," he says with a smile, rubbing his chin contemplatively. "I like it."

"Dieu," says Marie. "I have no idea what to make of this conversation. And who ate all the pie?"

* * *

For the first time that night, my body is not weighted by sleep when dinner is over, which is when I discover how very dull their evenings are: Marie is in the other room, working on a lesson plan, and Henri is reading. I pick up a book, but not only is it in French, it’s also about economics, which I wouldn’t be willing to read in any language.

“Why did you run away?” I ask Henri.

He looks up from his book. “Pardon?”

“Your mother sounds like she was nice,” I elaborate. “I’m just surprised you wanted to run away at all.”

“I wasn’t actually running away from her,” he says. “There was just something I wanted to see outside of Paris, and she refused to take me so I decided to go on my own.”

I tilt my head. “What did you want to see?”

“Corbusier had just completed this villa in Garche. He’d used the golden rectangle—this pattern in nature—in its design.” He smiles. “I thought I could just head toward the sunset, since Paris is due west, except it turns out the sun doesn’t take very long to set. I left late and it was dark by the time I got to the end of the orchard. I was too proud to actually return home, so my mother came to me.”

“I had no idea you were so interested in architecture. Did you ever consider studying it?"

He nods, something darker coming over his face. "I did study it," he says. "School was not for me. I prefer to stay on the farm."

I’m not sure what just happened, but I miss the warm, open version of him that was here a moment before. "I understand wanting to remain where you grew up," I say softly. "Lots of people prefer small towns and places they know.”

He looks at me for a long moment. "But not you,” he says. “You’d hate it.”

My childhood has more bad memories than good, and I want to get as far from what I know as I can possibly get. “No,” I reply. "Not me.”

Marie enters the room, looking a little shocked to see me and Henri actually speaking, free of sarcasm or insults. She picks up her sewing and sits beside me on the couch.

"So this is what you do every night?" I ask with a sigh.

"We don’t have to do this,” she says, putting her sewing down. Her eyes widen. “I know! We could play hide and seek. Time traveling hide and seek!"

"No," Henri intones. "Absolutely not."