44 Charles Street

Chapter 22

MARYA AND CHARLES-Edouard’s last week in New York was totally chaotic. Francesca helped her pack. They were sorting everything and shipping things everywhere, to Paris, and to Vermont. She gave most of her cooking utensils to Francesca, and threw a lot of things out.

“It’s amazing what you can collect in a studio apartment in one year,” Marya said, looking around. There were boxes everywhere, and even a stack of things for Goodwill. They’d been packing for days. And Francesca’s mother came to say goodbye to her too. She was flying to Zurich in two days on her way to Gstaad.

“I’ll call you in Paris the next time I’m there,” she promised. “And don’t invite me to the wedding if you marry Charles-Edouard,” she teased her. “I’d be much too jealous.” The man with the yacht that she’d met in San Francisco over Thanksgiving hadn’t panned out. She was still looking for number six, but Charles-Edouard wouldn’t have fit the bill either. Marya was more his type than she was.

“We’re not in any rush,” Marya reassured her.

“What’s happening with Francesca and Chris?” Thalia asked her as Marya handed her a gift. It was one of her cookbooks that Thalia had said she wanted and couldn’t find because it was no longer in print. Thalia thanked her and smiled.

“They seem very happy. They’re just getting started. I think it’ll take a while for them to figure it out. He went through an awful lot with his ex-wife. And Francesca is very cautious, as you know.” Marya poured them both a cup of tea. Thalia was going to miss her. She was her only conduit into her daughter’s life. Francesca never told her anything.

They chatted about Paris for a while, and then Thalia stood up and hugged her. “Take good care of yourself,” Thalia said softly. “I’m going to miss you too, and not just to fill me in about Francesca.” She had become a good friend to them all, and Thalia was happy for her. Marya deserved all the happiness she had found with Charles-Edouard. She brought joy to a lot of people, and it was nice to see her getting her fair share of it back. The two women promised to stay in touch.

Thalia left Christmas gifts for Francesca, Chris, and Ian, and she told Francesca she’d call her from Gstaad. She was leaving for Europe the day before Marya, but she was going to be busy now until she left.

Avery dropped by to say goodbye to Marya too, and leave Christmas gifts for Francesca, Chris, and Ian. The one for Francesca was enormous, and it was easy to guess what it was. It was one of her father’s paintings, to replace the five she had sold.

Francesca was thrilled when she saw it that night, and she had Chris help her hang it in the living room, and took down one she had never liked, by an artist she no longer represented. Chris loved the new one too. They had told Marya and Charles-Edouard all about the show in Miami, and Chris had admitted to being totally overwhelmed.

“I’ve never seen so much art in one place in my life.” Marya said she would have loved to see it. She had always wanted to go to the June show in Basel. Maybe now, living in Paris, she would. There were so many things she wanted to do. She was sad to be leaving, but getting excited as the day approached. They were planning to spend Christmas in Courchevel with friends of Charles-Edouard. It was a very fancy ski resort, with some excellent restaurants Marya was anxious to try out. It was going to be a much more exciting life than the one she’d had on Charles Street for the past year, or in Vermont before that. And Charles-Edouard moved around Europe a lot. He said he wanted to take her to Prague and Budapest.

And then the day finally arrived when they had to leave. It was wrenching, and Francesca and Marya both cried. Marya could hardly let go of Ian, and Charles-Edouard shepherded her gently toward the door, where a car was waiting to take them to the airport. She promised to e-mail, and she and Francesca stood for a last moment holding each other tight.

“Take good care,” Marya whispered, and Francesca was crying too hard to talk.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she said finally through her tears. This felt like a huge loss to her. And Ian looked mournful too.

“I’ll see you next summer, and talk to you long before that,” Marya promised as she bent to kiss Ian for a last time. Chris kept an arm around Francesca and held Ian’s hand as the car finally drove away, and they all went back inside. The house was going to be deadly quiet without them. Francesca was glad they were going to Boston in a few days, for Christmas with Chris’s family. She was still nervous about meeting them, but it was going to be better than staying home in a house that seemed too big now without Marya and Charles-Edouard.

“I think our kitchen just lost five stars,” Chris said, smiling wistfully at her.

“What do you want for dinner? Pizza or Chinese takeout?” Francesca asked him, and he laughed, as Ian voted for Chinese.

“I think we’re in trouble. One of us better learn to cook.” But Marya had actually taught her a number of her little tricks, if Francesca had time to do them. And Ian had become an expert at making all kinds of cookies. Charles-Edouard had left Chris a box of his favorite Cuban cigars. But the treasures they had left for them were no substitute for the people they had lost. It was going to be a big adjustment without them, and the house felt empty and sad for the rest of the week. It was going to be a relief to fly to Boston, and Ian was excited about seeing his cousins. Francesca was scared stiff. Chris had been giving her little hints about his family, that sounded like warnings. “Conservative, stuffy, not as uptight as they look, religious, Old Guard.” They sounded like danger signs to her.

“What if your parents hate me?” she asked Chris in bed, the night before they left.

“Then I won’t see them anymore,” he said matter-of-factly. “You forget who I was married to before. She’s not exactly a tough act to follow. My mother’s a little serious, but my father’s a good guy. They’ll love you,” he reassured her.

“How is Kim, by the way?” Francesca asked carefully. “Did you ever hear from her father?”

“My lawyer says she’s back in rehab. It won’t last. It never does.” He had given up hope. They had filed a report about her grabbing Ian from school, and she had been strongly reprimanded by the court through her attorney. They considered it a serious violation. Even Chris didn’t think she’d do it again. She hadn’t sent anything to Ian for Christmas. She always forgot, just like she did his birthday. There was no room in her life for holidays. She was too busy either trying to buy drugs, or get off them. It was a full-time job for her. Her addiction was her life.

Francesca’s mother had given Ian a cute little leather bomber jacket, and he loved it. Francesca was touched that she had made the effort. She bought a silver pen set for Chris, and an evening bag for her, which she wasn’t likely to wear often, but it was pretty. The bomber jacket for Ian more than made up for it. And Avery and her father had given him a beautiful drawing set with paints and pastels and pencils and colored pens, and he loved that too. His new substitute grandparents had done well by him. And Francesca loved the painting from her father, and went into the living room to see it every day.

She was going to get busy turning Marya’s room into an office for Chris as soon as they got back from Boston. And he was excited about that. They were spreading out all over the house. It was starting to feel like her house again, not having to make space for roommates. Ian seemed to feel it too-he had left a pile of toys in the kitchen, and loved watching TV with his father in Francesca’s bed at night, and climbing into bed with them on Sunday mornings. Chris and Ian had come home.