14 Juillet holds a special place in my heart because I’ve had the great fortune to actually be in Paris for the celebration. Though many (many) years ago, I still remember the thronging crowds, delicious steak dinner in a café, and teenagers hanging from the trees along the Champs Elysées. All in all, it was magnificent, raucous, rowdy.
It stuck with me so much I included it in a story.
Now, like many authors, I have manuscripts galore in various stages of writing: some languishing, some hibernating, and a few complete, but in dire need of spit and polish…or a major overhaul, whichever the case may be. Wisdom/Desire/Love falls in that category (At a whopping 245,00 words. IK,IK, it’s 3 novels). To say that I adore this story would be a massive understatement. I love it so much that I can’t even title it properly because doing so would mean I’m one step closer to finishing it, and I don’t want to leave this world.
Weird? Yes, but I think other writers get it. Readers, too. Have you ever finished a book and been sad that you had to leave that world? Yeah, it’s like that, but unlike a published novel, I get to control the outcome still, though I guess control is the ultimate purpose of fanfic.
But I also want the world to meet Anna, and Marc, and Alex, and Sophie, and Drew. It’s a conundrum.
Anyway, back to my original train of thought…there’s a pivotal scene (chapter, if I’m honest) that happens on 14 Juillet. And I’m going to share some of it here, with all its flaws and warts.
“Tell me about the fireworks,” Anna said. “What do I need to know?”
“They are beautiful,” Sophie offered.
“That they are,” Marc agreed. “We should be able to see them quite well. Of course, the best seats are on the Champs de Mars. They are right underneath the display. They symphony plays music for each year’s theme. We won’t be able to hear that, though.”
“What is this year’s theme?” Anna wondered.
“I don’t recall.” He gave a diffident French shrug .
“City of Light. City of Love. It’s on all the posters.” Sophie’s disdain for the inattentiveness of adults laced her voice.
A test firework went off in the distance. Sophie turned around at the sound. “Look!”
She pushed away her cake and turned completely around so that she was facing the tower. “Sit with me, Anna,” Sophie patted her bench seat.
“You will be able to see better.” Anna had been seated at one end of the table, and though her view was good, it would be better next to Sophie.
“Thank you, Sophie.” She scooted in beside the child.
The lights in the restaurant dimmed. The chatter died down. “Can you see, Papa?” Sophie asked. Marc was seated on the other end of the table and would have a great view. “You can sit there,” she indicated the other side of Anna.
She hadn’t given up on her machinations.
“Yes, Sophie, I can see just fine.”
Anna glanced at him. Apparently, he knew what Sophie was up to as well. Anna gave him a small smile. He returned it.
People towards the back of the restaurant began to move so that they could see. It would be a challenge moving and not blocking the view of others. That was why they’re out of the way table would be good. There was not much room for people to come stand nearby. However, two little boys, around the ages of 4 and 6, came to stand in the space next to Marc.
Their mother saw them, “Paul, Michel, non. Come back here, please.” Anna turned. It would be harder for kids so small to see from back there. Marc was watching them, too. Sophie turned and looked at her father, then went back to waiting for the fireworks. He glanced at Anna and gestured to the space next to her. She nodded.
“Madame,” he said, rising and going over to the woman, “Would it be okay if your boys sat here?” He indicated his bench seat.
The mother hesitated.
“I wish to sit over next to her, anyway.” The boys looked at their mother pleadingly.
“Thank you, sir,” the woman said. “That is very kind of you.” She nodded to the boys, and they climbed into the bench.
“Hello,” they said to Sophie.
She looked at them, measuring their fitness for friendship. “Hello.”
Anna scooted over so that Marc had room. He sat and then moved closer. Another test firework went up. Sophie clapped.
Marc leaned over and picked up Anna’s champagne glass and handed it to her. Then he reached across and grabbed his own. “Cheers, mon reve,” he said quietly, so that only she could hear. This was the first time he had used a nickname for her since yesterday morning.
“Cheers, mon désir,” Anna replied softly. She never used nicknames in French. They usually felt awkward, but this one felt right. Marc was surprised. Anna could see that, but he also looked pleased.
The fireworks began in earnest. Anna sipped her champagne and set it back down. She knew she had to be careful how much she had. All of her filters disappeared after too much champagne.
Unlike in America, where there are oohs and ahhs at each firework. Here it was fairly quiet, except for Sophie and the boys chattering after each one and the distant booms of the explosions.
Anna was aware of Marc’s proximity. He was close, but they weren’t touching. The fireworks flashing around the Eiffel Tower were incredibly beautiful and terribly romantic.
Marc leaned over and said, “Did you mean that?”
“Mean what?” Anna glanced at him. Sophie looked to see what they were talking about.
He moved closer and whispered, “What you called me.”
Anna smiled, but had to shift so that she could whisper back, “Mon désir? Of course. I wouldn’t say it otherwise.” She studied his expression for a moment. “You have to know I desire you. It must be written on my face every time you look at me.” Once she had said all of that, she realized her filters were gone.
He shook his head. “No, I did not see it, but I do now.”
Anyway, happy Sunday. Happy 14 July!
D.S.Dehel 