thinking? In her place, I would wonder if I had made the right choices, if my beliefs had barred the possibilities presenting themselves to those bold enough to grasp them.
Uncle Michael returned from his call with Jack. With the phone tucked away, I couldn’t see the thread anymore. “He’s settled in and suggested we stop by after Monaco. He’s been in Paris numerous times, but he’d like to see you two again.”
My aunt recovered and mustered a smile. “It’ll be good to see Jack. I’m sure he’ll want to see the tea shop.”
“He’s offered to take promotional photos for your website or future advertisements.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It is supposed to be a nice visit, not work.”
Uncle Michael held his palms up. “It was his suggestion. Of course, if you give him a tin or two of his beloved tea, he wouldn’t object.”
“He’s just as bad as you are.” Aunt Evelyn shook her head. “You found a good one, Michael.”
“It was actually Vanessa who did. She introduced me to Jack. Thought we’d be perfect for each other.”
I preened at the compliment. “You are—I was right.”
“You’re lucky it worked out,” my aunt said.
For her, love was sacred and yet unattainable. Before Marc had returned, I believed it too. Now I was convinced that my instincts were right: she and Girard belonged together. No one should be alone unless they desired it. But she moved to Paris for Girard, and for herself. I would text Marc tonight for an update and to tell him what happened yesterday.
“With risk comes reward, Auntie. As an entrepreneur, you know this well,” I said.
She sighed. “Yes and, lately, too well.”
“What is happening with the tea shop?” Uncle Michael asked.
I listened as my aunt informed him about the boycott and a few other challenges she neglected to tell me: nasty rumors defaming her character, some of her suppliers dropping her, extra repairs, delayed shipments, and miscommunication and errors with the ads she purchased in local papers. I felt like a child watching two adults speak.
My uncle frowned. “Does this boycott have traction?”
“I find myself standing outside my shop more often, trying to draw customers in. The foot traffic in the market is there, but they’re not coming in. They visit everyone else.” My aunt sounded worried, more worried than she had ever revealed to me. “I was closed again today. With the current climate, I can see people getting behind the boycott. I could lose my suppliers. No customers and no stock means no business.”
“Evelyn,” he said, embracing her. “I don’t want you to fail, but the family back home will be there if you need to return.”
She lowered head. “I can’t. Even if the business collapses, I’m staying here. There’s nothing for me in California.”
“You thought all this through, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” Aunt Evelyn straightened her posture. “I’ve made my decision. There’s no room for anything but success. I’m not going back, Michael. I’ll still visit, but Paris is my home now. I already started the immigration process.”
Another bombshell that I should have expected since she declared her move to be permanent. My aunt’s trust in my uncle was a testament to the strength of their friendship. They were best friends, but I doubted he knew about Girard.
“I was hoping your stay here was only temporary. A few years to experiment since you’re such a Francophile. As long as you’re happy, Evelyn, I’ll support you.”
I stood beside my aunt and placed my hand in the crook of her arm. “Don’t worry, she is.”
She might not be now, but she would be by the time I left.
Thirty-Seven
Happiness is a state of mind; however, just declaring yourself happy did not, in itself, persuade others, nor did it fool you. No one but you would know the lie, if you told it. Aunt Evelyn wanted to be happy. It was the reason she moved to Paris and chose this neighborhood. I had to help her.
I searched for an opening to speak with my uncle in private about my plans to reunite Aunt Evelyn with Girard. When my aunt excused herself to take a call from Ines’s mother, I took advantage of the situation and asked Uncle Michael to go for a short walk. He balked at the suggestion, but I convinced him that we wouldn’t cross any intersections and that fresh air was conducive to recovery. Besides, I needed to test out the cane and learn how to navigate with it.
“I don’t think Evelyn will be pleased.” He closed the