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Their brownstone looks similar to the others on the street – beautiful, old and well kept They have reens and ivy in theboxes, an A from the second storey, an auturee mezuzah affixed to the door fra for an answer froanization it is that watches over this nation’s ain, and a stocky rey hair, and a security earpiece opens the door "May I help you?" His voice is as solid and sturdy as his appearance
"Isla Martin" My own voice treirlfriend From France? I knoon’t be ho, so I was hoping you could pass this along to hiuy act is dropped for a ly warm "I’m paid to know that"
"Oh" My cheeks turn pink "Well, would you please give this to hie from me "Sure But I’ll have to scan it for explosives first As long as it passes, he can have it upon his return"
I laugh
"That was a serious statement All parcels are checked"
My cheeks deepen into red "Of course Thank you, sir" And I scuttle away
The next night, when I check my phone in Paris, I have a text from an unknown Manhattan number He doesn’t mention the return of the es wildly out of order – but he does say this: I can’t believe how much I missed your scent Merci for the scarf, my sweet rose
Chapter twenty-four
The pallor of winter further overcasts the already grey city Olyht and colourful, provide the only visual relief They’re plastered on every advertising surface, including the sides of entire buildings This February, the Winter Olyion of south-eastern France, though, by the adverts, you’d never know they weren’t in Paris proper The French athletes are the stars of the posters, naturally, but a few of the biggest names from other countries have also made the cut
Kurt and I exit the Denfert-Rochereau er-than-life poster of a fierce-looking Aure skater named Calliope Bell
"Who do you root for?" I ask "The Americans or the French?"
The Olys for me I know I’m supposed to feel a sense of national pride, but which nation? I feel loyalty towards both
Kurt glances at the poster "I root for the best athlete in each event They don’t have to be American or French"