She Reads Fantasy

' 14th of April, 1920

Dear friend,

I am writing to you in the most fabulous of times. I dare say I have not felt butterflies such as yesterday's in.. Well, forever! Yes, I indeed recall your warnings and the tears you wiped from my cheeks countless of times. But hear me out.
   When returning from the theatre at the exact time of 23 past nine I have stumbled upon a very interesting man. His name, I think, was Abou. We met on the Pont Au Duble, where he was painting the river.
   Oh, Em, I have not been this excited since Claude! Abou and I are to meet at Parc des Buttes-Chaumont on Tuesday at three in the afternoon, this week. And since you are my only moral support, you absolutely must come in case Abou turns out to be like Jean or Williem! You are to find me fifteen minutes beforehand near the lake to discuss my further plans for you.

With much love,
Annette, '

   is the letter that awaited me on my working desk that day, when I returned from work. And you cannot imagine the expression on my face when I read it!
   Annette only writes like this when she thinks she's in love, which for her seems to be on a monthly basis. It would all be relatively well, if the men she had chosen to go out with, would not be as old as her own father!
   And what is even sadder, is that because of her, I was not able to attend the 3:30 pm lecture by historian Lucien Febvre on his thesis about Philip II and the Franche-Comté!
   I checked the time and it seems that Annette forgot to send the letter off in time for me to mentally prepare. The clock was staring at me with a silly frown. It was twenty-five minutes to three.
   I picked up the book 'Analysis On The Life of Alexander Selkirk', and carefully stored it back into my leather bag from which I unpacked it, prior to reading the letter. I quickly grabbed the coat off the rack and hopped into my shoes. Stepping out and closing the door behind me, I nervously checked my pockets for the key but found it nowhere.
   How can it be, that when you're in such hurry, the universe makes it all go wrong, I thought to myself. Charles Edward Stuart would make a great example of this.
   After finding the key on the counter next to the stove and clumsily locking the door in a hurry, I turned on my heels and almost ran towards Buttes-Chaumont.
   Eighteen minutes to three. Damn you, Annette!
   I finally made my way through heavy traffic and found Annette standing over the green lake. She had crowned herself with a cloche hat and wore a pink dress of what looked like silk, lovely as ever. She was holding a picnic basket and a colorful blanket. But she wasn't alone! Next to her stood another woman, this one in a crimson dress and a black headband. She held a cigarette between her slender fingers.
   "You're late, Em, " remarked Annette as the girl was looking at me with intrigue in her big eyes. I looked down at my wrist. Five minutes to three.
   "I thought I was your only moral support, " I argued.
   Dropping the basket and blanket, she grabbed my hands and pulled me aside. "Please, Em. This is one of my theatre friends. I thought you'd look quite suspicious on your own, so I brought someone to keep you company!" I tried objecting, but Annette wouldn't have it. She led me back and grabbed us both by the shoulder. "I'd like you two to play a couple! I packed some cheese in there, some wine... I'm sure you two will have fun!"
   "But-" I tried once more.
   "There he is, my sweet Abou, " gasped Annette. "Make the best of it, lovebirds!" She ran to him, almost tripping in her heels, then clumsily threw herself at the tall painter and kissed his cheek just below the gray mustache.
   Picking up what stuff Annette left behind for us, I stepped a little closer to the lake and the girl followed. I unfurled the blanket on the ground and sat myself down. The girl stared at me for a few moments and then made her way to the other side of this god-awful pattern. She shifted a little closer to me and I could smell the cigarette on her. I shifted a little away. She again shifted closer, so I put my leather bag between us with a light thud. She didn't get the hint. In fact, the girl offered me a hand, not moving her gaze away from me even for a second.
   "Elize, " she smiled.
   "Am I supposed to kiss it?" I demanded.
   Elize giggled. "Shaking it would be enough!"
   "Maximillien." I quickly shook her hand before moving on to search the picnic basket. Annette always had a taste for good food. She packed a big, round slice of Moelleux Du Revard cheese and a bottle of last year's Pomerol. The bottom of the basket was taken up by Annette's homemade bread rolls, the top crease of which looked like a braid. I always wondered how she managed to do that. Next to the bread rolls conveniently rested two small glass cups, decorated with golden stripes.
   I opened the bottle and poured myself a cup, intentionally not offering it to Elize. Right before I put it back in the basket, she snatched the bottle from my hand and took a small sip, laughing in a silly manner all the while.
   "Well Maximillien, what do you do?"
   I turned towards her. This was the first time I took a proper look at her face. She wore very little makeup, and the headband in her dusky hair nicely complimented her chocolate eyes.
   "I teach history lessons at the University of Paris, " I answered hastily, turning my gaze towards Abou and Annette roaring with laughter on the other side of the lake.
   Elize took off her strap shoes and set them aside in a gentle motion. I secretly watched as her petite hands traced down her pale calf. She then moved a little closer to the lake and dipped her feet in the green water.
   I took one more sip of the sweet wine and then heard my name in the distance.
   "Maximillien!"
I turned around. Near the road stood a group of my colleagues.
   "Are you coming with us to Febvre's? It's almost half four, " one of them shouted.
   Damn you, Annette. I could be listening to Febvre right now, but I must sit here with this giggling, reeking-of-cigarettes frail!
   "I– Unfortunately I don't have time today, gentlemen. You'll have to go without me!"
   Though they stood a good twenty meters away, I could almost feel a hint of disappointment coming from them.
   "See you on Thursday then, " hollered the shortest of them. They hurried off, their lecturer's cloaks flapping in the air.
   I laid down on the grass. The short green blades were poking at my ears, so I had to sit back up. My cup of wine started tasting like blood.
   "Who is this Febber they spoke of, " inquired Elize.
   "Febvre. A fellow historian. He has a few theories on King Philip II that he is going to share in his lecture today." I took the book from my leather bag and ran my fingers over an engraved silhouette of a man that stood on the hard gray cover. Opening it on the chapter 'Marking Goats', I continued reading from where I left off the day before.
   "Ooh, " gasped Elize. "I also brought a book with me!" Her hands were shaking from excitement, as she pulled her legs from the water, splashing my shoes. Sigh. She opened her bag and pulled out a small paperback with heavily illustrated covers.
   My heart immediately dropped and I could feel my face go pale. Robinson Crusoe! The book she was holding was FANTASY!
   "How can you even read that!" I demanded.
   She looked at me with those shimmering eyes. "It's a good book. I picked it up a few days ago, at the local book sale."
   "I can't believe it. You smoke, you drink out of the bottle. But worst of all, you read fantasy!" I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "What else is Annette going to make me endure in the following weeks?"
   "It isn't really that bad, " Elize defended herself. "Would you like to read it?" She offered me the book but I pushed it away.
   "It's fantasy, I don't want it."
   "Should I read it aloud instead? You might like it."
   "I said NO!" The volume in my voice had risen with every word. "We're supposed to be a couple, but with your attitude, we won't come very far!"
   "Ah, so my attitude is the problem." Elize's eyes were getting glassy. She put her book down and turned towards the lake, cross-armed.
   Is she crying? What will Annette think of me now? I retraced every moment spent together with Elize and realized that her eyes lost all the shine, and her lips all the redness that she kept on her face from the moment I first saw her. Up until I shouted at her for being nothing but jealous. At that moment I lost all motivation for hating her and decided to bring the shine and redness back. It's not her attitude, is it? How do I fix this? I never was good at apologies.
   After a few silent minutes full of thinking, I turned back to Elize.
   "Listen... I've been really hard on you today. You didn't deserve it. I was really mad because I missed Febvre's lecture. Annette is my best friend, and I should be happy for her. I should even thank her for bringing me company. So, can I somehow make it up to you? I really am sorry, " I babbled out. The apology tasted bitter in my mouth, but the heaviness lifted off my chest.
   Elize let out a chuckle and crossed her arms. "Read a paragraph from my book. AND promise me that we'll act this date out properly from now on."
   I hesitantly opened the paperback fantasy on a random page and started reading aloud. "I had two elder Brothers, one of which was Lieutenant Collonel to an English Regiment of Foot in Flanders... Formerly commanded by the famous Coll. Lockhart, and was killed at the Battle..." I came to a sudden stop.
   "Keep going, " beckoned Elize.
   "Wait!" I opened my book at the beginning and flipped a few pages back and forth until I found what I was searching for. "Selkirk had two elder brothers. None of his family members knew what happened to the younger, but the older– Lieutenant Colonel of a Flanders Footmen regiment– was killed in the Battle of  Dunkirk by the Spanish..."
   "What is it?"
   I frowned. "They're– They're the same book! Well, obviously not the same, because yours if fictitious, but they talk of the same person!" I skipped to chapter Rescue and Publication. "... Woodes Rogers brought Selkirk home and inspired his friend Daniel... "
   "... DeFoe, " Elize finished my sentence.
   I checked the paperback cover and found the name Daniel DeFoe written on it in thin letters.
  "See? It isn't entirely bad." Her sad face was now cracking in the corners of her mouth and a slight smile emerged.
   It was from then on that we made quite a convincing couple for the day. We even started meeting outside of Annette's dating life, even though she failed to score it with Abou. We met mostly in libraries, where we discussed differences between a fictitious and a historical account of the same event. I still cannot believe that I fell for someone who reads fantasy. But although Elize and I are so very different, I never let her redness and shine fade again.