Making new friends. It probably feels like youâre living in a whole new world. Perhaps a scary one at that.â
As I let her hug me close, I thought, Oh, Mamie, you have no idea .
Vincent was waiting in the hallway when I opened our door. His alarmed expression faded when he saw that I wasnât visibly upset. âKate, Iâm so sorry,â he said, taking me in his arms. I closed my eyes and let myself bask in the hug for a few seconds before pulling him into the apartment.
âHello, Vincent, dear,â Mamie said, walking up behind us and standing on her tiptoes to give him the customary cheek - kisses. âHow have you been?â she asked.
My grandparents loved Vincent, which definitely made my life easier. While they always questioned Georgia about her whereabouts, all I had to do was say I was going out with Vincent and there were no more questions asked. Another good reason not to rock the boat.
âIâll just leave you two alone now,â she said after theyâd caught up, steering us into the living room and closing the glass doors behind us. The room was crammed with antiques, artifacts, and paintings, and it smelled like a cross between a musty library and a Bedouin tent.
I settled on the couch next to a vase of cut flowers, one of several that Mamie scattered through the rooms, letting you walk through a cloud of freesia or lilac or something else delicious, before moving back into the ancient-odor zone. Vincent positioned himself in an armchair right in front of me.
âI canât apologize enough for what happened back there,â he said. âYou know that no one else agrees with Arthur.â
âI know,â I said, though I was aware that Jean-Baptiste hadnât exactly been jumping for joy when heâd officially welcomed me into his house. But since that day, he had been nothing but courteous.
âI just canât figure it out,â Vincent said, looking bothered. âArthurâs such a good guy. I mean, even though he and Violette act like theyâre Godâs gift to revenants at times, he has never been intentionally exclusive or petty.â
âMaybe he was just being honest,â I said. âMaybe he actually does think that itâs dangerous for me to hear your plans.â
âWell, he could have mentioned it before, instead of bringing it up in front of everyone.â He brought his hand up to touch my cheek, and I grasped it and pulled it to my lips before dropping it to my lap.
âIâm fine, really,â I said, although the humiliation still felt cold in the pit of my stomach. âWhat is up with Arthur and Violette, though? They seem to argue like an old married couple, but Iâve never seen them touch. Are they together?â
Vincent laughed, and got up to finger one of Papyâs ancient figurines that sat atop the fireplace mantel. âThey are not togetherâin the sleeping-together sense of the word.â He lifted an eyebrow. âBut you kind of got it right with the âold married coupleâ reference. Arthur considers himself Violetteâs protector. Theyâre from the time when women were thought to need protection, of course,â he added, grinning.
âArthur was Violetteâs fatherâs counselor, and they both died in the same kidnapping attempt. So I guess itâs natural that they would stay together all this time, but I know that âloveâ is not the nature of their relationship. Codependence, maybe, but not love.â
âHow do you know that?â I asked, intrigued by the suddenly sheepish look on his face.
âOh, Violette and I have a bit of a history. Iâve met her a few times over the years. Whenever Jean-Baptiste found a previously undiscovered text that he thought was particularly important, he had me take it to her for inspection. She wasnât exactly shy about confessing her feelings for me.â
I gasped. âViolette
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