Under the Wide and Starry Sky

CHAPTER 20

“I  have  good news,” Louis said when  he  visited her  apartment  a  few  days later.  “You remember Henley, of course. He’s starting a publication called London. And he’s going to publish the story I read to you.”

“‘The Suicide Club?’”

“As soon as I polish it up. I think the length will be good for the magazine. I want to do a series of these shorter stories for him. Then, if luck holds, put them together as a collection for publication.”

“That’s grand, Louis.”

“I don’t know if publishing in London will mean much money, but it’s one more foray in the right direction. He’s going to need a lot of help. I was thinking you could do some work for him to get the thing o? the ground—?nd writers, do some editing, perhaps. He could pay you a little something.”

“Yes!” Fanny sat up wide-eyed on the sofa. “Say yes to him. I will absolutely help. It’s perfect timing, Louis. Sam can’t pay me next month. And I want to do it.”
“Then I will pay.”

“But you haven’t got any money for—” “We’ll find a way,” he said.

Walking back to Will Low’s studio for the night, Louis tried to ?gure how much was left of the thousand pounds his father had given him upon graduation from law school. It had seemed like a solid amount when he got it. He hadn’t been a spendthrift, exactly, but he’d picked up the bill for a group dinner now and then, loaned friends money, and pitched in for this or that. The biggest chunk of it, he’d given to Colvin when someone stole a set of valuable prints in his keeping. Louis loaned him 250 pounds, lest Colvin be sued. Poor old Colvin probably would be paying that loan back for a good long time. Louis had given a fair  amount  to  Bob  and  his  sister  as  their  money  ran  out.  None  of  his  generosity,  he thought, was out of the ordinary. His friends had done the same for him when he was short of funds; it was how all of them lived.

He could sleep and work at Will’s place and toss a few francs his way. At least he’d had the sense not to accept the invitation to stay in Bob’s ?at. The place was crawling with bohemian friends and hangers-on. One fellow was sleeping in a closet. They were drunk by

afternoon  and  up  until  dawn.  Louis  had  pledged  himself  to  work  every  morning  until dinner, and he knew he could do it in this city.

The next afternoon, when he walked over to the Montmartre apartment, he found Belle in the parlor entertaining Bob. One look at his cousin con?rmed what Bob had already admitted: He was smitten. Louis burst out laughing at his stupe?ed cousin watching the American girl, whose excited, free-limbed storytelling had Bob gazing at her as if she were an exotic bird.

“Luly!” Sammy shouted when he saw his friend. Louis and the boy bear-hugged. Fanny’s  eyes  met  his  in  the  round of  chatter  that  followed.  They  went  out  into  the
hallway together.

“I wish we had our own parlor, just for you and me,” he said.

She pecked his cheek, then drew back and crossed her arms. “Did you know your eyes are red?”

“I went back to Will’s last night and wrote until three or four in the morning.” “The canoe essays?”

“Inland Voyage. That’s the name I came up with last night. I have two hundred pages so far. Added about fifteen last night.”

Her smile was coquettish. “Have I told you today that you are amazing?” “That’s all I want to hear. Ever.” He put the back of her hand to his cold cheek. “Who
was your model at the studio today?”

“A man dressed as Napoleon Bonaparte.” Louis tittered. “And your foot?” he asked.

“Still achy,” she said. “The price of canoe wars. I probably shouldn’t have been out there in the first place. I can’t swim, you know.”

“Fanny!”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t going to miss the fun.”

“I love you because you’re game,” he said, and he put his lips on her neck. “I love you because you have the heart of a man inside the body of a luscious—”
“No,” she said. “Not here.”

“Fanny … “

“A woman’s reputation is a fragile thing. Even in Paris.” Her eyes darted toward the parlor. “Speaking of which, Bob has added a whole new wrinkle to my daughter’s life.”

Louis reluctantly drew back. “Where does Frank O’Meara stand?”

Fanny shook her head. “She’s in a complete dither about which one she loves better. She can hardly concentrate in art classes. Frankly, she’s driving me mad with her chatter about them.”

“It’s so beautiful outside. Let’s round up everybody and go to the crèmerie to get a bite to eat,” he said.

They walked out into the street, and Belle took Louis’s arm. Just ahead, Fanny linked arms with Bob, while Sammy scampered around making snowballs.

“Do you love snow, Belle?” Louis asked.

“Yes, I do.”

“That’s good. Because we couldn’t be friends otherwise. “ “You have strong opinions about the oddest things,” Belle said.

“Some people look at snow and think about catching their death of a  cold or how a person could get lost in it and meet his end. What could be better than to be wrapped up warm in a coat and to see the soft ?akes coming down?” He nodded toward Fanny and Bob up ahead. “Come to think of it, I believe I love my friends better when snow is falling on them.”

Belle, who had been ambivalent about Louis’s presence in their lives, allowed a grin. Her enormous eyes peered at him from beneath her fur-lined hood. “You have made my mother laugh again. I haven’t heard her sound so happy since Hervey was a baby.”