looked serious, despite the tiny bit of powdered sugar dotting his lip. “All life should be celebrated. You’ve been given a gift—the chance to rejoice every day, to do whatever you want to give your life meaning.”
“Here it comes,” Claire muttered.
“Both of you—so caught up in yourselves,” Jules went on. “Instead of sitting around being unhappy, why don’t you do something to give your life purpose?”
“Orphans in Africa” Claire said under breath.
“There are people all over the world who need help,” Jules said earnestly.
“I know,” Marcel said, feeling defensive. “I’ve been taking care of the poor in Ireland for the last hundred and forty years.”
“And that didn’t give your life meaning?” Jules asked. “Didn’t it give you some measure of joy, to know you were making a difference in those desolate lives?”
“It was all right.”
Jules let out a deep breath. “You have been granted the opportunity to live extraordinary lives. Quit wasting them.” He stood abruptly and dropped some money on the table for a tip. With a last, unreadable look at Claire, he made his way through the crowded tables and disappeared toward the levee.
“That’s Jules for you,” Claire said, sounding not at all bothered by his lecture. “Sincere as shit. Still—” Her eyes followed his broad back. “He’s a good person.” Her voice sounded uncharacteristically soft, affectionate, and Marcel looked at her curiously.
“What is it with you and Jules?” he surprised himself by asking.
Claire looked surprised too, that Marcel would address it so openly.
“Oh, you know.” She waved her hand vaguely, watching the crowd where Jules could no longer be seen. “I love him. He won’t have me. And so on.
“But the question is,” she said, looking at Marcel shrewdly, “what are we going to do about Daedalus?”
“What
can
we do?”
“You know who we should talk to?” Claire asked. “Axelle. Our Axelle has become quite the power-house.”
“Y ou’re gonna love this place,” Kevin said, patting my knee before shifting gears.
“Good—I’m hungry.” I looked over at him and smiled, trying to seem normal. This had been such a bizarre week. Kevin had been wanting to get together every day. I’d missed him, but he seemed so removed from the rest of my life—there was so much I couldn’t share with him. Or with Clio, or Petra. Meeting Carmela, starting on that path, was weighing heavily on me, like a heavy, dark cloak that I couldn’t take off. What would Clio and Petra say if they knew?
I looked out the Miata’s window, seeing the shadows slanting steeply from the tall oak trees. It was as hot as summer, but the sunlight looked autumny: its quality, its angle. Every day I stepped outside, expecting a crispness in the air—and every day I was disappointed. Back home I’d be wearing sweaters by now and a jacket at night.
“And no school next week!” Kevin smacked his hands against the steering wheel. “How cool is that? Let’s get Sylvie and Claude and go do something tomorrow, maybe get a little sailboat, have a picnic out on the lake.”
“That sounds great,” I said, loving the idea of doing something so ordinary. With Kevin, I got a glimpse of my old life, when I’d been a regular teenager in a regular town. More and more I felt like I was leaving him behind—and last night, at Mama Loup’s …
“You cold?” Kevin’s face was concerned, and he adjusted the AC. “You’re shivering.”
“No, I’m fine,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Hey—are you all right?” He steered with one hand, lacing the other through mine on my lap. Every so often he released it to shift; then he’d take it back. “You seem kind of … distracted.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s been a crazy week. I haven’t been getting much sleep, and my grandmother seems to be getting sick or something. I’m having a hard time focusing.”
“That’s okay—I know how those crazy
“Here it comes,” Claire muttered.
“Both of you—so caught up in yourselves,” Jules went on. “Instead of sitting around being unhappy, why don’t you do something to give your life purpose?”
“Orphans in Africa” Claire said under breath.
“There are people all over the world who need help,” Jules said earnestly.
“I know,” Marcel said, feeling defensive. “I’ve been taking care of the poor in Ireland for the last hundred and forty years.”
“And that didn’t give your life meaning?” Jules asked. “Didn’t it give you some measure of joy, to know you were making a difference in those desolate lives?”
“It was all right.”
Jules let out a deep breath. “You have been granted the opportunity to live extraordinary lives. Quit wasting them.” He stood abruptly and dropped some money on the table for a tip. With a last, unreadable look at Claire, he made his way through the crowded tables and disappeared toward the levee.
“That’s Jules for you,” Claire said, sounding not at all bothered by his lecture. “Sincere as shit. Still—” Her eyes followed his broad back. “He’s a good person.” Her voice sounded uncharacteristically soft, affectionate, and Marcel looked at her curiously.
“What is it with you and Jules?” he surprised himself by asking.
Claire looked surprised too, that Marcel would address it so openly.
“Oh, you know.” She waved her hand vaguely, watching the crowd where Jules could no longer be seen. “I love him. He won’t have me. And so on.
“But the question is,” she said, looking at Marcel shrewdly, “what are we going to do about Daedalus?”
“What
can
we do?”
“You know who we should talk to?” Claire asked. “Axelle. Our Axelle has become quite the power-house.”
“Y ou’re gonna love this place,” Kevin said, patting my knee before shifting gears.
“Good—I’m hungry.” I looked over at him and smiled, trying to seem normal. This had been such a bizarre week. Kevin had been wanting to get together every day. I’d missed him, but he seemed so removed from the rest of my life—there was so much I couldn’t share with him. Or with Clio, or Petra. Meeting Carmela, starting on that path, was weighing heavily on me, like a heavy, dark cloak that I couldn’t take off. What would Clio and Petra say if they knew?
I looked out the Miata’s window, seeing the shadows slanting steeply from the tall oak trees. It was as hot as summer, but the sunlight looked autumny: its quality, its angle. Every day I stepped outside, expecting a crispness in the air—and every day I was disappointed. Back home I’d be wearing sweaters by now and a jacket at night.
“And no school next week!” Kevin smacked his hands against the steering wheel. “How cool is that? Let’s get Sylvie and Claude and go do something tomorrow, maybe get a little sailboat, have a picnic out on the lake.”
“That sounds great,” I said, loving the idea of doing something so ordinary. With Kevin, I got a glimpse of my old life, when I’d been a regular teenager in a regular town. More and more I felt like I was leaving him behind—and last night, at Mama Loup’s …
“You cold?” Kevin’s face was concerned, and he adjusted the AC. “You’re shivering.”
“No, I’m fine,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Hey—are you all right?” He steered with one hand, lacing the other through mine on my lap. Every so often he released it to shift; then he’d take it back. “You seem kind of … distracted.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s been a crazy week. I haven’t been getting much sleep, and my grandmother seems to be getting sick or something. I’m having a hard time focusing.”
“That’s okay—I know how those crazy
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