CHAPTER 15 - MAL

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Ch. 15: Mal's Vulnerability

September 2 | Day

We spent the morning scrolling Parisienne rental properties, Cherie over my shoulder yelling requirements and Ava, her nose stuck in a book, shooting down our wackiest ideas. Laughter brightened the dining room. My laptop nestled amidst a breakfast spread of fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, and meat. R. Greene, the lizard, scampered over jars of jellies and jams. Tea, coffee, and milk were on offer. Our appetites for soul food wouldn't be whetted for a while.

From the longboard across the room, a duduk resting on a wooden pedestal played of its own volition. The wind instrument was bathed in djinn dust, shimmering golden and brilliant. Its haunting notes evoked the lush green promise of an oasis, or a desert palace, or a haram full of beautiful concubines learning the antidote to slavery was knowing more than the master.

"What about this quaint third-story flat overlooking the Eiffel Tower?" I asked.

Ava squinted at the image that filled the laptop screen. "Hm, there's a dance studio nearby, too. Says the instructor has experience with people on the spectrum. Really?"

"Let me see." I hit the link in the apartment description and read aloud a write-up about the award-winning French dance instructor.

In my periphery, the gilded painting above the fireplace rippled to life, and a woman in a mountainous heap of crinolines slowly turned the page of the book she was reading. My gaze swept to Cherie as my sister skipped out the wide French doors to the porch swing. She pushed it almost past its limits. I eyed the creaking chains.

"That's magnificent!" Ava chimed when I was done with the article. "And if I complete my studies and acquire my law degree in France, we can kiss Louisiana au revoir forever,"

"That's the dream," I sighed amiably.

"What about you, Mal? What do you see yourself doing in Paris?" Ava tucked a plump green muscadine past her teeth and chewed, smiling at me.

I hummed at the high ceiling in thought. Fleeing overseas had always been Ava's dream. Now that the odds of leaving were in our favor, I wanted to accommodate my sisters, even if it meant giving up the firm. Ashivant, Ashivant, & Claibourne had been entrusted to me by our late father, but without him or his original partner, Delilah, I felt no pressing need to keep the legacy going.

"Maybe I'll find a handsome suitor, settle down, and raise some kids," I joked.

From the porch, Cherie snickered. "You can't have babies."

"Cherie!" Ava gasped sharply. The swing creaked to a halt, and Cherie's eyes widened. She bowed her head to let her blond tresses curtain her face.

I smiled tightly as I closed the laptop. "Oh, don't scold her, Ava. She's not wrong."

"Yes, but it's unkind to bring up, and it's..." Ava's scrutiny ricocheted from the youngest to me. "Well, you'd make a lovely mother, Mal."

"I don't even like kids!" I exclaimed as Cherie crept back to her dining chair, forlorn. "Ah, hell, Cher. I'm fine. Both of you, I'm fine. I was joking about settling down anyway. It'd be like The Taming of the Shrew, twenty-first century edition. Whatever idiot falls in love with me will fall right back out once he comes to his senses. I'll happily devote the rest of my life to the two of you."

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