“Open the big one first,” Vincent replied smoothly. He wasn’t even winded by the rowing.
Gingerly I opened it and saw, nestled within layers of tissue, a tiny handbag made of an Asian-patterned silk matching my own dress, attached on each side to a long, waist-length chain. The clasp was made of two metal flowers enameled in red and silver, matching those on the fabric. “Oh my God, Vincent, it’s gorgeous,” I breathed, running my fingers over it.
“Open it,” he said. The sparkle in his eye told me he was enjoying this as much as I was. Maybe more.
I carefully pushed the two flowers apart to pop the bag open and pulled out a small pile of tickets. Holding them up to the light cast by the streetlamps at the river’s edge, I saw the Opéra Garnier’s logo.
I looked at Vincent questioningly, and he said, “You told me you liked dance. They’re season tickets to the Opéra Garnier, where all the ballets and contemporary dance events are held. I reserved a private box that’s ours for the season. That’s what the dress is for, but since the first ballet is still a couple of weeks away, I didn’t want you to have to wait to wear it.”
I didn’t know what to say. My eyes filled with tears.
Vincent stopped rowing. “What, Kate? Are you upset? You said you wanted to go on some normal human dates, so I thought this was a good idea.”
Finally finding my tongue, I said, “There’s nothing normal about season tickets and a private box at the Opéra Garnier. Or ordering a custom-made dress for me to wear to it. No, Vincent,” I shook my head. “‘Normal’ would not be the word.”
His features softened as he realized that I wasn’t upset—just overwhelmed. “So what would the word be? Abnormal?”
“Exceptional. Extraordinary. The polar opposite of normal.”
“Well, darling Kate, as I once explained to you, I am asking you to trade a normal life for something extraordinary. So I want to make it up to you in an extraordinary way.”
“You’re doing a good job,” I breathed.
“You’ve got another one left,” he said, nodding at the remaining box.
I opened the paper and drew out a hinged jewelry box—the size that would fit a bracelet or necklace. I glanced up at him, alarmed. “Vincent, it’s way too early for something like this,” I said uncomfortably.
“I would hope I know you a bit by now,” he said, obviously enjoying my discomfort. “You think I’d scare you off by giving you jewelry so soon? Trust me, it’s not what you think.”
I opened the box slowly. Inside was a card. In tiny, ancient-looking script was written: For Kate Beaumont Mercier, fencing lessons given by my own person, Gaspard Louis-Marie Tabard. Number of lessons specified by V. Delacroix: as many as you can handle.
“Oh, Vincent!” I cried, lunging forward to hug him, almost capsizing the boat in the process. “This is perfect.” I sat back down and shook my head at him in amazement, as he laughed and righted the boat. “You’re perfect,” I sighed, and he gave me one of his dreamy smiles that just about knocked me over the edge of the boat into the water.
“That gift is more a thank-you for saving me from floating around as a disembodied ghost for the rest of eternity,” he explained.
“But you’re the one who did all the work,” I protested.
“We couldn’t have done it together if you hadn’t had such a strong will. Now you’ll have the skills to go with it. I’m hoping you won’t ever have to use them in a real-life situation, but since you’ve agreed to share at least a little part of my life”—he flashed me a cautious smile—“I would feel better if you were equipped to handle anything that might come your way.”
The tears I had been holding back began to course down my cheeks. “Kate! You’re not supposed to cry,” he said, locking the oars into their rings. He slipped forward off his bench to sit on the floor of the boat in front of me.
We floated under the Alexandre III Bridge, the most beautiful bridge in Paris, with stone garlands draped across its arch and bronze-and-glass lamps gleaming across the top. But I could barely see its opulent beauty as it engulfed and then released us from its shelter on the other side. Because the boy sitting in front of me was all I could focus on. I closed my eyes for fear of being swept away by my emotions.
He wanted to be with me. Enough to change his life for me. Enough to launch upon an unknown, uncharted future. For me.
I love him. I had been keeping those three words stuffed deep inside me, for my own protection. But I was done with self-preservation and my heart was open. I had feared that love would make me vulnerable. Instead I felt empowered.
“Kate, are you okay?” He brushed the tears off my face.