Le ciel est bleu

Chapter 4

Arriving at Boston Logan International, Timothée and Floret take a cab to reach the town of Lexington, where Floret was born was brought up. On the ride, Floret utters,

"Do you know the statistical odds of finding the one special person with whom you'll spend the rest of your life together?"

"No, run me through the numbers," inquires Timothée.

"One in 262,144. That's the magic number. I bet the people who hit it are really lucky," Floret answers.

"Hmm, so, 30 minutes till your father's house?" Timothée asks.

"What're you getting bored of me already?" Floret says crossing her arms, she opens the window and the wind wafts through her hair. She covers her face with her right arm, having her eyes shut due to the dust.

"Well, we can make this more interesting, how about we play a game?" Timothée says looking into her hazel eyes.

"What can we play?" Floret puts her hand on her chin.

"Some word game perhaps?" he replies intertwining his fingers.

"Like scrabble?"

"Kind of, only I'll shuffle the rules, I'll give you a word, okay let me think, okay. It's an eleven-letter word, with two letter repetitions, both are vowels, there's your first hint."

"Okay, umm, Occupations?" she says brushing her hair with one hand and resting another on his.

"No."

"Okay then give me another hint."

"It has the letter r, no O's and no C's."

"Belligerent," she shrugs her shoulders.

"No, here's your final hint, fill in the blank, when I first met you, it was because of-?" he says beholding her eyes.

"Serendipity," she smiles brightly interlocking her arm around his.

Setting foot at 93 Adams St, Lexington, Floret and Timothée take a moment to study the exterior of the Mediterranean-styled house. Floret reminisces about her childhood as the smell of the garden brings her back to the Chrysanthemums she'd plant with her mother and the basketball court where she'd play with her neighbourhood friends. Timothée comments,

"I love the olive trees, they're so beautiful. You were born here?"

"Yes, my mother was in her final year of college at Harvard Law when she got pregnant with me," Floret sighs, "It's all memories now and it's hard to believe."

Timothée pats her shoulder and kisses her forehead, "Let's go inside."

Floret rings the doorbell feeling the tepidity of the place. Spencer opens the door and hugs Floret, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"I missed you, daddy," Floret says embracing her father.

"Oh, I missed you too honey, I missed you so much," Spencer retreats his body. "Hello, you must be Timothée," he said shaking Timothée's hand. He lets them inside the house and shows Timothée the living room offering him a seat on the white couch, meanwhile, Floret steps into the kitchen and decides to prepare herbal tea for the both of them.

"So, Tim, I heard you and Floret met at Brian's house. He introduced you to Floret, right?"

"No, actually, that was the second time I saw her, the first time was in a coffeehouse where I had left my stuff and I came inside and I saw her, then we talked for a bit," he said nervously tapping his foot on the mat.