Saving Wishes

Saving Wishes Part 9

18. The Parisienne

Pipers Cove quickly descended to crazy town. News of Gabrielle and Alex's not-so-secret love affair spread like wildfire, and our little café did more trade in the next three days than it had done in a month.

Alex never coped well with crazy. I steered clear of the café – and so did he, closing early each day to go surfing.

Mademoiselle Décarie's life seemed even more difficult, but she took it in her elegant stride. The Beautifuls and their associates filled in the many blanks with details of their own. Lily and Lisa didn't miss a day of school, overcoming the problem of iridescent hands by wearing gloves – teamed with matching newsboy hats as if Winter Barbie was the look they'd been aiming for. Jasmine hadn't surfaced since the incident in the shop, calling in sick with a terrible case of the flu. Nicole saw no need to enlighten Carol. Collateral, she called it.

The only good part about Gabi and Alex becoming the victims of the ruthless local gossips was that Adam and I were left in peace. It was like a get-out-of-jail-free card. It no longer felt like all eyes were on us. Mercifully, we'd become yesterday's news.

It didn't stop us hiding, though. The boat was nearing completion and most of our afternoons were spent in the shed. I didn't mind watching him work but had long since given up offering to help. Adam humoured me for a while, giving me menial jobs like sanding already raw wood, but it never lasted long. There was something lacking in my technique. He'd watch me for a few minutes with a look so pained, anyone would have thought I was sanding the flesh off his bones. It always ended the same. I'd stop what I was doing just to put him out of his misery. Instead, I busied myself doing what I did best, taking pictures. I photographed Adam a million times, never once finding a flaw.

"You're going to wear that thing out," he teased.

I snapped a quick picture, trapping the brilliant smile he flashed me. "A small price to pay," I replied, looking at him through the viewfinder.

"For what, Coccinelle?" he asked.

I grinned up at him, high above me on the deck of the boat.

"A moment in time that I'm never going to get back."

He ruffled his fingers through his hair, creating a cloud of sawdust.

"That sounds so sad," he said finally.

"It's not sad," I insisted. "It doesn't matter that I'm never going to get it back. I was there at the time."

The distance between us dulled none of the shine in his sapphire eyes. "I love hanging out in La La Land," he declared.

Behaving at home was the least I could do. I made sure I was home on time every night and did my best not to rattle Alex's cage too often, which was difficult considering he was teetering on the edge of a meltdown.

I was in the kitchen, trying to scrape something half decent for dinner together when I heard his keys hitting the hallstand just before he rounded the doorway.

"What are you up to?" he asked accusingly.

"Nothing. I'm just trying to sort something out for dinner," I said, staring vacantly into the fridge.

"Charli, no more," he said wearily. No more what? I'd been an angel all week. "I can't work out if you're up to something or if you're just being good. Up to something I can deal with. Being good...well that's just creepy."

"Whatever do you mean?" I shut the fridge door much harder than necessary.

Alex sat, looking a lot like someone with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Madame Décarie reported that you passed your French assignment. That troubles me."