Danielle Steel - 44 Charles Street

They had a wonderful time in Vermont together, driving around, and they took a gondola up the mountain at Stowe. She drove back into New Hampshire with him. They ate lobster, and simple meals at local inns. They went to farmers’ markets and cooked at home, and took turns at who did what dishes, and collaborated on some. They tried out recipes for their book, planted vegetables in her garden, picked flowers, took long walks, swam in a nearby lake, went fishing and cooked what they caught, and waded in streams, and made love at least once a day, which astounded Marya. She had never thought the sex life they had possible at their age. Charles-Edouard was a very sexy man, with the drive of a much younger man, and the ability to carry it out. Marya was thriving and flourishing with his attention and the love they shared. The only dark spot in their time together was the news of Eileen’s death. Marya was deeply saddened by it, and went to church with Charles-Edouard to pray for her. She cried as she lit a candle for her soul. And she was going to miss her. She wondered if Francesca was going to replace her as a tenant.

When Charles-Edouard and Marya drove down from Vermont at the end of the Labor Day weekend, she looked healthy and brown and happy, and Charles-Edouard’s bright blue eyes danced in his tan face, which made his hair look even whiter. He was wearing a blue shirt, jeans, and espadrilles, with a red sweater on his shoulders when they got out of her car in front of 44 Charles Street, and they unloaded their suitcases and shopping bags full of fresh vegetables and fruit from her garden and the farmers’ market in Vermont. Marya sighed as she looked up at the house, thinking how different it would be without Eileen. She had given them all an infusion of youth.

Chris and Ian were home when they walked up the steps with their things. They were surprised to see Charles-Edouard, and it was obvious that he’d been in Vermont with Marya. Chris hadn’t realized that was the plan, and they seemed to be happier than ever together. Chris was still sorry for her that he was married. They seemed like a perfect fit.

“Welcome home,” Chris said as he came down the stairs when he heard them come in. And Ian came up just as fast from the kitchen with a milk mustache and a cookie. He smiled broadly at Marya, and threw himself into Charles-Edouard’s open arms.

“I have an egg in my ear!” he shouted excitedly, and instead Charles-Edouard pulled out a coin, and handed it to him.

“You sold your eggs for money,” he said, and kissed the boy on both cheeks, and then embraced Chris. He had gotten used to Charles-Edouard’s effusive French greetings by then. Ian helped him carry the bags of food down to the kitchen, while Chris whispered to Marya that he hadn’t told Ian about Eileen. He had said she had moved back to California to be with her parents, which was true. He hadn’t explained that she was going back in an urn, in the form of ashes. The idea of her getting murdered in the house would have frightened Ian, and he’d been through enough trauma with his mother. Marya agreed entirely, and said she’d mention to Charles-Edouard not to say anything to him about the murder or even her death. It was a sad circumstance for them all. She gave Chris a hug, and they exchanged a warm, loving look of understanding.

“So how was your summer?” he asked her. “Ours was great at the Vineyard.” He looked it, and so did Ian. They were healthy and tan, and so was she. With the exception of the tragedy that had befallen Eileen, they had all had good vacations.

“We had a wonderful time in Vermont,” Marya said, glowing, “and Europe is always terrific. I’ve been back for a month. It feels like ages ago.” Chris and Ian had returned from the Vineyard the week before. And there was no sign of disruption in the house. Eileen’s rooms upstairs were closed and locked. And Francesca had finally bought living room furniture to replace what Todd had taken eight months before. It was a very comfortable room now, and she had decided not to sell the house, in spite of Eileen. She had told Chris when he got home. It was a tragedy, but they had to go on. Chris approved of her decision and was relieved. He and Ian were happy there. It was a perfect setup for them, and he couldn’t imagine his life now without Marya and Francesca as friends for him, and beloved aunts for Ian, although he knew Ian would miss Eileen too, the stories she read him, and the origami birds she made.

As they always did when Marya was home, they all congregated in the kitchen. She put some mushroom soup on the stove that she had made in Vermont before they left that morning. It smelled delicious. Charles-Edouard was playing the egg game with Ian, who was squealing with delight. Suddenly the house seemed full of good smells, and joy and noise and laughter again. It hadn’t been that way when he and Ian got home, and it had felt very somber to him at first, and as though they were all in mourning. It was better now. Marya and Charles-Edouard gave them back energy and life. It had been too quiet without them.

Francesca could hear all of them laughing in the kitchen, as she unlocked the front door when she came home from work. She smiled as she walked downstairs, and saw Marya. She already had her apron on and was cooking. She had put a chicken in the oven for dinner. And Charles-Edouard put some pâté that he had made on a plate and then threw his arms around Francesca and kissed her when he saw her.

“Ahhhh!!! La châtelaine!” he said with delight. He called her “the mistress of the château.” 44 Charles Street was hardly a château, but it was their home and they loved it. “You look beautiful with a tan, Francesca.” And her hair looked like spun gold.

They were all talking at once as Marya looked around the kitchen. A few things were out of place, and she set them to rights and put things on the shelf where they belonged. And then she noticed that the kitchen computer was gone. Francesca had given it to the police as evidence. They all had their own computers in their rooms, and didn’t need one in the kitchen anyway. Marya suspected that was why it had vanished, since Eileen used it so often.

The five of them couldn’t stop talking, to catch up on everything, and for the first time since Francesca had returned from Maine, the house felt alive and happy again and joyful. They each brought their special magic to it, and were a family together.

They were sitting at dinner at the round table in the kitchen, trying not to feel Eileen’s absence, when Francesca noticed something different about Charles-Edouard and Marya. She didn’t want to say anything, but as she cleared the soup dishes with her and rinsed them, she whispered to Marya.

“Am I crazy, or is something going on with you and Charles-Edouard?” It was subtle but noticeable, and Chris had sensed it too but would never ask. He was far too polite.

Marya grinned mischievously as she answered in a whisper too. “His wife left him this summer. She filed for divorce. She’s marrying his main sous-chef.” Francesca stared at her in amazement.

“Omigod! Are you serious?”

Her voice was slightly louder in her excitement for Marya, and she lowered it again. “Are you getting married?”

“I don’t know yet. I want to see if he can be faithful for more than five minutes. But we’re happy and having a good time. This is all very recent. He showed up in Vermont a few weeks ago. It’s very new.” She looked beautiful and young as she said it. And Charles-Edouard glanced at the two women whispering at the sink, and suspected what they were talking about as they giggled. He smiled at Marya.

When they sat down again, and Marya served the chicken, he looked at Francesca with a warm smile. “Marya told you?” She nodded and beamed at both of them, while Chris looked confused.

“I’m very happy for both of you,” Francesca said with a loving look, and got up to kiss him on both cheeks, French style. “That’s wonderful news.”

“Did I miss something?” Chris looked puzzled. “Did something happen with you two this summer?” It looked that way to him.

“We’re in love. My wife is divorcing me.” He looked extremely happy about it, as he beamed at Chris.

“Good for you both!” Chris said with a broad smile. “I’m happy for you.” He meant it, although he wouldn’t have wanted to be in that situation himself. He had sworn off love forever after Kimberly. He always insisted that he didn’t miss it. His life was peaceful and sane, and he had Ian. “That’s exciting! When did all this happen?”

“In Vermont,” Marya filled in. Charles-Edouard got up to pour them all champagne, and they toasted the couple, and then as Francesca looked around the table, she wanted to offer another toast. She had a lump in her throat when she did.

“To Eileen. I hope she’s in a better place now,” she said softly, and they each solemnly raised their glass and took a sip.

“Why did she move back to California?” Ian asked plaintively. “I miss her. She was nice.”

“Yes, she was,” Francesca agreed. “Sometimes people we like move away,” she said simply. Ian nodded and started cutting his chicken, and after that they talked of Marya and Charles-Edouard, their respective summers and plans for the fall. Ian had started third grade, Francesca had a heavy exhibition schedule at the gallery, including two one-man shows, and she wanted to go to Art Basel in Miami in December. Charles-Edouard and Marya had their book to write. For the first time in weeks, life felt normal again at 44 Charles Street. Eileen wasn’t forgotten and never would be, but life went on.

AT MARYA’S URGING, Francesca invited her mother to dinner the following week when she returned from Europe. She wanted to see her anyway, and had to, and doing it at one of Marya and Charles-Edouard’s dinners was an easy way to get together.