La Petite Fleur

Mémoire

Just before Steve could set his keys on the counter, a rapid knock startled him. Who could that possibly be? Antoinette stood in the hallway in the bedroom door with an anxious expression. "It's alright, I have an idea who it is," he assured her.

She responded with a tiny nod before watching him with wide eyes as he opened the door. Three energetic blurs darted inside the door and attacked Steve with massive hugs.

"Monsieur Steven!" they exclaimed, voices mingling into one mangled sound.

"Whoa now, calm down," Steve admonished, chuckling.

"You are back!" Jerome exploded, jumping in place.

Antoinette smiled and joined them kneeling on the floor. Jason greeted her with a wide smile that revealed a lost tooth.

"Does your mother know you are here?" she asked the boys.

Jean nodded enthusiastically, answering, "Oui, she told us to invite you both for dinner so we came running over."

"Oh," she said in surprise. "How did she know we were here?"

"She was watering les fleurs et saw Monsieur Steven closing ze door."

Antoinette nodded a little and glanced over the heads of the boys to meet Steve's eyes. He shrugged a shoulder and nodded. Why not? This family meant them no harm, so dinner couldn't possibly be a terrible idea.

She smiled in return and rose to her feet. "Well then we accept your invitation to dinner."

Jason grabbed Antoinette's hand and led her down the steps and across the street to a house with colorful flowers beginning to lose their petals in the window boxes. Jerome sprinted after his brother and Jean followed quickly behind, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Steve was following.

At the end of the night, when the boys' mother had offered Steve and Antoinette as much as they could eat and it was time for the boys to go to bed, they thanked her for the meal and left, crossing the street in the velvety September night.

Antoinette paused on the second step to the front door and stared at the cloudy sky with a wistful expression. He let her stand like that for half a minute before she snapped back to earth and entered the apartment.

He followed her in and locked the door behind them, setting his keys on the counter and removing his bomber jacket. He smiled to himself when a thought passed through his mind. She must have seen his expression because she asked, "What are you thinking of?"

He chuckled and said, "Madame Chevalier reminds me of my own mother every time she's got that spoon."

"Why? Were you punished a lot as a child?" she asked, laughing a little.

"Not really," he replied. "Just threatened. Anytime I needed discipline, I wouldn't be hit, instead my mother tickled me. Quite effective."

She laughed again and removed her sandals before stepping into the kitchen. When she returned with a glass of water in her hand, she stopped in front of him. "What are you smiling about now?" she asked.

He hadn't realized he was smiling and quickly changed his expression. It'd been a while since he'd heard her laugh like that- honestly laughed- and it had sounded nice. It was a light melodic sound that lessened the burden on his shoulders he'd been carrying for the longest time. The burden of all the lies he'd told her, all the promises he'd made and couldn't keep, the guilt he felt by not telling her the truth and having to hide so much that weighed him down.

With a start he remembered he hadn't answered her yet which would make her suspicious and suspicion led to questions, so he simply answered, "Nothing, just another memory."