Revolution - Jennifer Donnelly [111]
He chews his lip for a minute, then nods. I tuck the painting under my arm before he can change his mind.
“Thanks,” I say, heading off. I’m so excited that I tell him Adieu, which is a final goodbye, pretty much like saying, See you in the next world, instead of Au revoir, which means see you later. I apologize for the mistake, tell him Au revoir.
He shakes his head, smiles at me with his rotten teeth. “You had it right the first time,” he says. “Adieu.”
53
I’m running late.
The Métro was super slow—track work or something—and it took forever to get back to G’s. It’s nearly six o’clock. I should be getting into a cab now, not running up the stairs to his and Lili’s loft.
Lili’s home. She’s watching the television and talking on the phone at the same time—with G, I think. There seems to be some confusion over his flight. After a few minutes, she hangs up.
“The airline workers have walked out,” she says to me.
“What? No way!” It can’t be. Not now. Not tonight.
“Orly and DeGaulle are a mess. G was supposed to come home tonight but his flight was canceled. He is trying to get on a train but it’s difficult. Apparently, everyone else has the same idea.”
“When did this happen?” I ask her.
“They announced it about an hour ago.”
I drop my bag on the floor. “I can’t believe this,” I say, totally crushed.
“Andi? What’s the matter? Oh! I completely forgot you were leaving tonight. Did you get a call from the airline?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve been stuck in the subway.”
I call my voice mail and sure enough there’s a message.
“What do they say?” Lili asks as I hang up.
“That my flight’s canceled, too,” I tell her.
“I’m sorry, Andi. I know you wanted to see your mother.” She comes over, puts an arm around me. “At least we will get to keep you for a few more days. G and I are happy to have you.”
I force a smile. “Thank you, Lili,” I say.
She tells me she’s on her way out to have dinner with some students and that there’s bread and ham and cheese in the kitchen and I should help myself.
I thank her, pick up my bag, and put it in my room. Then I sit down on my bed. I didn’t see this one coming and I should have. The workers have been threatening to strike for days, but I paid no attention. I was too worried about getting my outline done.
I look around my room, wondering what I’m going to do with myself for the next two days, or three days, or eight years, or however long it takes before I can get on a plane to New York. I feel a bit panicky at the thought of having nothing to do and nowhere to go, and being around my father for God knows how long. I feel totally down about not being able to see my mother tomorrow.
I dig in my bag for my pills and swallow a couple. The Qwells kept me pretty stable all day long—maybe a little stupid and clumsy, but stable. As I put the bottle back, I see that the diary’s still sitting there, right where I left it last night. I still have four or five entries to go. I’d planned to read them when I got back from Clignancourt. Before I called a cab to take me to the airport. As I reach for it, I realize I wouldn’t have had time to read the last entries. I was running way too late.
“Happy now?” I say.
As I open it, Lili comes in.
“I’m leaving, Andi. I’ll only be a few hours.” She says goodbye, but stands in the doorway instead of leaving. “You know,” she says, “there’s this place on the Rue Oberkampf. A few streets west of the Ménilmontant Métro stop. G and I used to go there. When we were students. The food is good and there’s live music on Sundays. It’s called Rémy’s. I really think you would like it. It would be good for you to get out. To hear some music. Maybe meet a few people your own age and have some fun. You might be here for a few days, you know. We French love our strikes.”
“Rémy’s, is it?” I say, like I’ve never heard of the place before.
“Yes. Think about it.” She kisses me and leaves.
I sit on the bed for another minute or so, staring off into the darkness, hoping it’s not too late. For Alex. For Louis-Charles.