Page 32 of The Flying Kite

My return to class had been celebrated, and I hadn’t realised how much I missed my students. Lacie and I even reached a kind of truce, with her easing up on the teasing and me loosening up in the classroom. Meanwhile, after a long discussion about the future of the landscaping company, Lillian, the old man, and I came to the agreement that we would all share responsibility until Frank slowly reduced his hours. Most of my days I spent at work, but most of my nights I spent in Emmanuelle”s bed. Sometimes sleeping. Oftentimes not.

It was my luck that Frank spent just as much time at Martha’s house as he did at home, though I knew he’d already noticed my absences. I was gearing up to tell him about Emmanuelle, and I found myself excited about the prospect.

All in all, life was perfect. Or as close to perfect as it had ever been—except for that small, pink, floppy-eared elephant in the room, invisible to anyone but me. The longer Emmanuelle heard nothing from Laurent Lambert, the more nervous I got. At this point, I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

A couple of days later, we met with Remi, McKenzie, and Lauren for a barbecue at the beach house. It was sunny but bitingly cold outside, and my breaths formed small clouds whenever I exhaled. At the moment, time felt equally suspended.

Emmanuelle’s phone rang after dinner, while we were trying to find constellations among the bright specks. The skies were cloudless enough that it seemed as if you could see even the tiniest star if you only squinted hard enough. It was cosy and homey as we huddled beneath our respective blankets, and I only tensed a little when the little melody rang out. She glanced down and excused herself with a slight frown, wandering to the edge of the raised plateau in a bid to get some privacy.

My chest constricted, but I only took a calming sip of my wine. It was sweet with a tang but had a little bitter aftertaste, and I imagined that that summed up my feelings pretty well.

You couldn’t follow what was being said, but I spied the moment where Emmanuelle’s whole body stiffened as if she was afraid to even draw breath, too shocked at what she was hearing. It could have been anyone on the other end, but in my heart, I knew who it was.

“What’s up?” Remi asked when she came back to the table with an expression of utter disbelief, but her eyes were shining like I’d never seen them shine before.

“That … was … Laurent Lambert.”

Remi almost spilled his wine. “The Laurent Lambert?”

“Yeah, I mean … yeah.”

I could see that both Emily and Lauren had no idea, but McKenzie’s jaw dropped open. “Holy shit!”

“What did he want, Elle?” Remi asked and threw the blanket away to jump up from his chair. “What did he want?” he asked again and gripped both of her arms.

“He wants me to go to Paris. He wants me to work for him.”

Her brother sucked in a breath, while she shook her head as if lost in a trance. But Emmanuelle barely had a moment to hold onto the shock, as Remi picked her up and whirled her around. “That’s fantastic, Elle. Mon Dieu, it’s what you’ve always wanted, getting a chance to show him your work!”

“Yes.” Her cheeks were pink, both from the cold and the excitement. “Yes. I can hardly believe it!”

Whoops and cheers rang out into the night, and congratulations and well-wishing alternated when Emmanuelle called first her parents, then her grandmother. Even though my French was a bit rusty, I understood most of the excited chattering—maybe too well. I did my very best to be happy for her, but it was a long time before Remi and her friends finally left. In the end, I was exhausted.

She was still on the phone when I began to clean up, stacking up the plates and carrying them inside, throwing away the waste and doing the dishes. For a moment, I contemplated turning on the radio just so I didn’t have to hear her excited chatter but doubted that would get rid of my slight nausea. I was almost done when two arms wrapped around me. I froze with my hands still in the soapy water.

“Hey,” she murmured into my ear.

“Hey.” I glanced back and smiled, then gestured down with my chin. “I’m almost done.”

“I can see that. Thanks for getting a head start. Sorry for being distracted.”

“I think that’s only natural, Elle.”

She hummed at the nickname before putting her chin on my shoulder. “I still can’t really process it, you know. It’s a cool idea to bring all these artists together for a joined exhibit. Unconventional, but very French.”

“He wouldn’t ask you if he didn’t think you were great.”

“Hmm, you’re probably right, but still…” Emmanuelle shook her head. “This is going to change so many things. All the plans I made and … I didn’t think…” The arms around me tightened.

I finished the last plate and dried my hands before turning around. Her face was only a few inches away, but I could see the consternation on it.

“Of course, you didn’t. How could you?” I cradled her face. “I’m proud of you, you know. This is such a great opportunity.”

“Thanks, I—” When she wanted to continue, her jaw muscles tensed, and she moved her face aside before she brought a hand up to stifle her yawn. “Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s been a very long day.”

We stood there for another moment, and I tried to decide whether to ask her about her plans, whether to ask her about us. She put a finger in front of my lips. “I know we need to talk, but I won’t know all the details until tomorrow afternoon. His assistant said she’ll call me. In light of that, and the lateness of the day, do you think we could postpone it until then?”

I hesitated, but then I forced myself to smile. It really was late, and I was tired, too.

What’s one more day of being stuck in limbo?

“Let’s go to bed.”

“Thank you.” She sighed before grabbing my hand and pulling me after her. I felt safe when she cuddled me close to her side, and though I slept fitfully, being able to freely touch my fingertips to her warm, smooth skin almost made it worth it. I wanted to memorize every inch of her, commit the curves and contours of her frame to memory in a bid to quiet my fears.

That night I began to hate time. It had always gone too quick when I was around her, but now, I desperately wanted to find some way to just get it to stop.

When morning came, I quietly got up, pausing for just a moment at the edge of the bed. Her body was sprawled on the mattress, the blanket having dropped to her hips. I had a perfect view of her tousled dark hair, sensuous lips, and well-formed breasts. It made me instinctively reach out, yearning to touch her, but then she moved, bursting the spell, infusing sense back into my mind not to wake her. I let my hand sink and moved away from the bed.

I would be busy today, but I wrote a note to say that I’d be back in the afternoon. Leaving the house made me feel like I could breathe just a little bit easier, but I knew that was only a temporary reprieve.

The last lecture of the semester had my students sitting relaxed in the lecture hall. The assignments were done, and today marked the last day of presentations. It filled me with a sense of accomplishment to stand at the front and know I’d been involved in maybe shaping some of the artists of tomorrow. That feeling was important because it held the darker thoughts at bay.

“I wanted to express how much I enjoyed teaching this class,” I told them. “It’s been a privilege and a pleasure to be able to share my knowledge with you, and I hope it has been at least a little fun for you as well.” A chuckle rolled up the rows, and one student lifted his hand. “A moment, Mike.”

He nodded, taking his hand down again.

I pushed off the table. “For anyone who hasn’t heard it yet, I’ll be staying on as a teacher.” There was a quiet cheer at my words. “And now, Mike, was there anything you wanted to add?”

The chubby student gave me a jovial grin. “Just that I know what my optional subject is going to be in a year.”

I smiled. “That’s sweet. Thanks, Mike.”

At the bell, Lacie sidled close while the other students were leaving the room. With a grin, she knocked on the lectern. “You know, I’m actually sad that it ended. And I haven’t said that about a lot of my classes.”

“Well, then I feel a little special now.”

“Yeah, right. As if you would.”

“Who knows.”

She shook her head. “It won’t be half as much fun without someone who blushes as easily as you … Professor.”

I groaned. “Enough. I’m happy to see that you applied yourself so earnestly, at least. Even got an A.”

Lacie shook out her red hair and swiped it over her shoulder with an airy gesture. “I know, isn’t it great?”

When I looked at her, I could see that she’d changed. Her clothes were still tight, but her deeply plunging neckline had disappeared, and on the way to the lectern, she’d even given Pete a little bit of a wave. There were no students rolling their eyes when they saw her talking to me now either. Lacie’s rep seemed to have cleared.

“Yes, it is,” I said. “You did good.”

She grinned, and with a wink, left the lecture hall. It seemed that I wasn’t the only one who’d managed to learn something this semester—and I didn’t mean the content of the curriculum. This time, I only felt amusement at watching Lacie Lennard sashay out of the classroom.

I packed my bag and glanced at my watch. Already two o’clock.

Time to face the music.