Shadowed-Death by Design

Chapter Sixteen - Unsettled?

When Lucy found it imperative to catch up on her school work, Jean-Louis Broc's mother volunteered to help. Newly arrived at the Rouen train station, Lucy heard a vaguely familiar voice behind her, “Bonjour, long time, no see!” She turned. In lieu of the typically French kiss on the hand, his arms embraced her. As he tenderly kissed her lips, she dropped her back pack and umbrella, returning his kiss.

Jean-Louis collected her things and curiously stowed in the front seat of his car. The back seat was noticeably empty. She was tightly sandwiched between his hip and the stuffed overnight bag he had strategically jammed between her and her car door. Arm around her shoulder, he drove her to his dormitory at the University of Rouen. In his room, over a late candle lit supper of cheese fondue and French bread squares, he revealed grandiose plans for the next day. He indicated his bed, where he proposed she would sleep that night. He intimated that he would sleep in his conspicuously absent room mate’s bed, but not so subtly suggested that they could shove the two beds together. 

“That would be lovely, Jean-Louis, if we knew each other much longer and much better, and if I still didn’t have a chaperone, as you said your Grandmother will be when we go to Rome together in the summer. Your parents are expecting me to stay overnight with them. They are probably wondering where I am right now. By the way, is the Musee des Beaux-Arts de Rouen on our agenda?”  

"Yes, but first I wish to take you to a creperie for breakfast in the morning, Lucy.”

Lucy made small talk as he drove her to his parents' home. It was after midnight when they arrived, Lucy and Jean-Louis tiptoeing to the Brocs' guest bedroom, where he deposited her bag on the upholstered bench at the foot of the large bed. With one foot, he nudged her bedroom door closed. Again catching her off guard, he seamlessly switched off the overhead light with his elbow, enveloped her in his arms, kissing her a long adieu. Cutting through the stillness of the night, his car’s engine hummed its retreat through her open window. She flipped on the light, silently closed the door, and located the phone.       

“Aimee, I am sorry to phone you so late. Helo! I am in Rouen. Can you come early tomorrow morning and pretend to be me with Jean-Louis Broc? He has no idea about you. He knows I am here to do my school work with his mother the entire weekend. I need her help and I cannot be rude, not availing myself of her generous offer. Yet, it would kill him to have his romantic, time-consuming, grandiose plans spoiled. I just cannot do that to him! Madame Broc and Jean-Louis are not on the same page, now that he resides in the dorms.

At the train station, he surprised me with our first kiss ever. His kiss would have been to die for, if I was already in love with him! But it is too soon! I have only been with him a grand total of twelve hours, even though I met him before I met Pierre. I will have at three weeks to get to know him. So, no kissing on the lips for you or me until he and I go to Italy this summer! He might try it in the dark in a movie theater. A kiss on the cheek will have to suffice, Aimee. But if he unavoidably makes his move, briefly kiss him goodnight, just a peck. Otherwise, he’ll notice the difference between us. 

Jean-Louis said his room mate is gone for the weekend so, whatever you do, do not let him get you alone in his dorm room! Do not change clothes there! And no French accent! Just shake and nod your head, try not to talk. But if you must, try to sound American. I recommend museums, so Jean-Louis will do all the talking as your personal tour guide. You live here, so pretend it's your first time and enjoy whatever he shows you. 

So there are no slip ups, listen to my diary entry from months ago. ‘Monsieur Broc and eighteen year old Jean-Louis drove me to the center of town to see the huge clock, Le Gros Horloge. We visited his paternal grandparents, who knew my Grandpa Edward during the war. Jean-Louis kept looking me over, sizing me up! Then he hit on me! P.S. He was not like that when he came to California as a foreign exchange student!’ That is the end, Aimee.