Christmas at Henry's sister's, it's his cute idea of a neutral ground. I come unarmed but slightly intoxicated, just enough to get me through the night. In spite of her gray Protestant demeanor she generously makes sure our glasses are never empty (but only drinks red wine herself). Sanguinis Christi.
He gives me a book about Coco Chanel, neatly wrapped in an editorial from Libération. A weaker version of myself would have thought he was trying to tell me something. "That man" he says after dinner, "the one I met this
spring. He said 'never get them diamonds'. At first I though he meant
girls in general, but now I know he was talking about you".
we stumble back home together in the clear Parisian winter night he
tells me about a friend in Prague that he needs to see for New Year's.
He doesn't ask me to go with him and I think I'm relieved. I've been
falling down this Boulevard Saint-Germain for too long now, voices are
calling me from other places and I've only just begun to listen.