The Inventor's Son

Chapter 15: In Which a Ringing Bell is Nearly a Grandmother's Undoing

SOPHIA BRUSHED ETHAN'S LAPELS one last time and nearly giggled. "I cannot wait until Madame Bonheur meets you! She's absolutely the best at outfitting us in all of France, indeed, I'm not even certain anyone in Europe is her equal, let alone her superior!" Cora shivered a bit, and Ethan tried to give her an encouraging glance. She rapped on the great dark oaken door.

Abruptly, the door opened with a creak. There was no light inside, though Ethan could smell Nag Champa wafting from the interior. "At least it's not patchouli. I cannot abide patchouli," Ethan whispered with a cheeriness he wasn't certain he felt.

"Enter, Seekers," a heavily accented voice called to them from the beyond. Cora squeaked. Ethan patted her hand as Sophia stepped in. Cora tiptoed in as well, and then, Ethan entered the House of Bonheur. The foyer had a tiny table with a dish, and Sophia placed her card there. A remarkably young butler took the card to his mistress. Ethan let his attention wander for a few moments. He was daydreaming about when he'd get to see Beth again on the Eiffel Tower on Saturday.

"Sofie! Ma amiee!" a gleeful shriek called from the depths. A positively ancient woman, whose height rivaled Sam's in lack, danced into the foyer. For someone so positively from the century past, she appeared very animated and alert. She pulled Sophia down to her in an embrace and kissed her cheeks. She even grabbed and kissed poor Cora who was nearly beside herself. At long last, Madame Bonheur assaulted Ethan by grabbing his chin with one bony hand.

"C'est magnifique!" she announced as she assessed something about Ethan of which he himself had no idea. "Your daughter's son?"

"Yes, Madame Bonheur. My dear Jane's only child, shy a few weeks of his thirteenth birthday," Sophia told her.

Madame Bonheur's eyes lit up. "A few weeks! No wonder!"

Against his own better judgment, Ethan asked, "No wonder what?"

"No wonder you are so...magnifique! Venus makes her children beautiful and lovers of beauty as well! Please come in, and we can begin!" She led Ethan through a doorway that was merely made of long strands of beads. Velveteen drapery covered the windows, and elaborate, hand-crocheted doilies decorated every overstuffed chair and sat under every light fixture, not that any of them were turned on.

"Sofie! Does your grandson understand what we are doing today?" Madame Bonheur asked.

"He knows he is here to get his own wand."

"Ah! And no doubt, our Venus child thinks this is all!" Madam Bonheur went to a long table and poured herself a glass of what smelled to Ethan like sherry. "Shall I offer our guest a glass as well?"

He was inclined to refuse, but he took the glass. "I shall only have a little. I want to have my wits about me."

"Aha! Wits will get you nowhere! It is your intuition that shall serve you far better than your 'wits' ever will!" Ethan watched her as she handed Sophia and Cora each a glass. Then, she raised her glass and announced, "We shall begin!" Sophia and Cora both raised their glasses in unison as well and they all toasted. Ethan sipped the sherry, and strained not to make a face. He decided the sherry would not be touching his lips ever again if he could at all help it.

Then, Madame Bonheur gestured to a small round table. A deck of Tarot cards waited for her there. Ethan suppressed a groan. "Come and sit across from me, my handsome fellow!" she told him with a wave of her arm.

Ethan slowly took a seat across from her and complained, "I'm not terribly keen on the Tarot."

"Ethan! I told you to be on your best behavior!" Sophia admonished him.