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There was no layout of the plot. Christine just jumped right in and expected you to know exactly where she had landed.
being the youngest, was able to sweet-talk their parents out of their saliva the way she’d been able to sweet-talk them into extending her curfew by an hour when they’d been younger.
Gwen’s day job was in her father’s accounting firm, but she filled her free time soaking in history. She’d
store’s speakers about girls just wanting to have fun.
Waiting always made her feel like she’d returned to the dark ages of dial-up.
But my favorite story was the one he’d tell us about Le Papillon de Nuit, or as they say in English, the Moth. It took me years to convince him to tell me her real name, but eventually, I learned that she was Elodie Mitchell—who I believe is your grandmother.
there was no topic, no event that she and her grandmother hadn’t discussed before her death. They had been that close. Except
now she knew that wasn’t true. “I just spoke to Dad. He’s never seen the
before Jean-Baptiste went on his way, disappearing from her life until this time again next week.
was a very sharp dresser, her husband. He also spoke fluent French.
It’s a misconception to believe that she still dances in the nude. She’s famous now. She doesn’t have to take off her clothes. It’s a good show. I thought you might enjoy it.
“I refuse to take those tickets back. Come to the show. Don’t leave Paris without seeing Jo. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you walk away from this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And as for the second show, Miss Mitchell, we’ve all been a little homesick sometimes.” And with that, he turned, tossed his trash into the nearest receptacle, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked away.
“Sounds like you’re homesick to me,” Uncle Minor had told her in that airy way of his. “We’re, all of us, homesick because earth is not our home. Heaven is.”
“Your father,” he had said slowly. And then stopped. “Everyone longs for heaven—for that perfect place where there aren’t any more worries. But what keeps you grounded in this place,” he’d said, jabbing a finger into the surface of the table, “is doing the thing God has put you on this earth to do. If you can’t figure out what that thing is, sometimes you want to go to heaven sooner.
“Find that thing you were created to do, Miz Elly. Then the longing won’t be so bad.”
“I make no promises, but I think they’ll be the last batch of cookies.”
“I think he will be. Looking this good, he won’t be the only man pleased.” All three of them laughed. But several hours from now, Elly would realize with regret just how true that statement was.
A lot of it was just cleverly placed bodily movement and shaking: shaking her hips, her chest, and her backside to the beat. It fed into that whole exotic African picture she liked to paint; the same one white people lapped up like puppies.
But she’d been raised where anyone older than you was a ma’am or a sir and beware if you failed to address someone correctly.
But she’d been heavily influenced by her own ancestry; by the town she’d been born in where a statue of her many times great-grandfather had been erected. The grandfather who had been born and raised in France but later lived and fought the British in Acadia. After losing, he was summarily exiled to what was now known as Louisiana. The same grandfather then decided to join the slave-owning community of the South, which led unsurprisingly to the creation of colored Valcourts who passed down sprinkled French like salt onto every generation that followed.
side,
asked, “But wouldn’t it be nice
didn’t live in a world where everyone was separated by these small, trivial divisions? Wouldn’t it be nice if we were kind just for the sake of being kind? If we didn’t consider race or religion or sex?”
However, I am not a kind person and I rarely do anything that doesn’t, in the end, benefit me.”
Still, at the end of the day, you were running that show. You had all of the control and you could have exposed us if you had wanted to. You gained nothing by helping.”
“You came here because you wanted to live. That tells me that whatever you were doing back in the States wasn’t quite cutting it. The act isn’t over; the show hasn’t concluded. So answer me this, why are you leaving?”
“Because on paper it doesn’t make sense. You’re a woman—which Germans greatly undervalue. Then add the fact that you’re colored and an American and now you have a recipe for the least suspicious person in the room. Unique to you is your knowledge of the world around you and your ability to think on your feet, which you proved last night. You could be a very valuable asset to France. Why wouldn’t we try to recruit you?”
Polly reached for the makeup tins, closing them. “I was born and raised in Tennessee, honey. The birthplace of the Klan. The way I figure it, we colored folks have always lived dangerously.”
King of his own castle. Elly slid her eyes in Jo’s direction. “You mean treat him as though he were special?” “Treat him as though you’ve been waiting to speak to him your whole life.” Elly took that advice and mentally slipped it into her purse.
“No, but how kind of you to offer to assist the elderly,” he said faintly.
“Old enough to be in a wheelchair soon, apparently.”
It embarrassed her to disclose that her father thought he’d make more money in blackface.
Why on earth her father had bought into such nonsense was beyond her.
A shame that it must be that way.” A shame that such things were considered amusing. “Let’s sit.”
then to her astonishment, lowered his head onto her lap. “What are you doing!” “This is how couples picnic.” “I’ve never seen such a thing.” “In France,” he corrected. “This
“There’s a spy I know, who is French, and he says a good spy never needs weapons. They aren’t there to fight or to kill, merely to collect information. If weapons are needed, you’ve already lost. There is truth to that statement. But the fact is, people do get caught.”
“It was the Spanish flu that took them both. I was an empty shell by that point. Death seemed to hit on every side, leaving me stranded and alone. My parents were gone. Most of my unit—made of men who had become very dear to me—was wiped out at Château-Thierry. Quite a few of those who survived the war returned to America only to die of … breathing problems.” “Mustard gas?”
to my last dime when someone came and sat next to me on a park bench.” “Like you did with me?” Elly’s voice was hushed. “Yes. Just like that. Her name was Josephine Baker. I’ve been slowly gathering the pieces of myself ever since.”
“Grant, I barely knew you from Adam. Here you are—this musician from America telling me how to fight a shadow war on behalf of France. Of course I doubted. But I won’t doubt you again,” she vowed, meaning every word. Because thanks to Catau, she knew what Grant had been a part of and all that he had done. Grant’s only response was to run a hand over his face.
“You’ve got to do what’s best for you because no one else will do it for you.”
“Love is self-sacrificing. It’s a willingness to put the other person’s needs and desires above your own. You cannot boil it down to mere touch and affection.”
it’s that I never regret the times I take a risk.
wishing and hoping that I lament. Live your barred-up and jailed life if you want to and leave me to the freedom of mine.”
that she probably could not change Jo’s mind so why on God’s green earth had she tried? Barred up and jailed. She supposed that was one way to describe how she approached relationships. But it was a jail cell that Elly held the key to. It kept her from some things but it also protected her from other things. Things Elly was just fine being protected from. Jo’s sort of freedoms would drive Elly mad.
“That’s not surprising at all,” Danny said with a shake of his head. “But this is just about the worst timing.” “No, it’s not the best timing,” Polly said, looking up at Pierre for some sort of reassurance. He was not looking at her. Elly tugged on another grape, snatching it from the stem’s tight grasp. “It does mean that we’re returning to the States.”
fishin’ is by boat.”
“Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow? Madame is being very difficult. I know she is from a different generation—” “We are not dating.” “What?” “I just want to make sure that you understand that all of this is fake.”
“Nothing in this life is free. If you expect me to share my wisdom, you will owe me.” Elly considered that. She
not because he’s afraid of vulnerability. But because the more he knows a person, the more it’ll hurt when they leave. So
He has learned how to make it from day to day and leaving Paris would require him relearning all over again. That’s why I don’t think it’ll ever happen.” Pierre sighed deeply.
