The Mistress(74)
“We’ll need someone to run it on a day-to-day basis. I don’t want to be tied down here all the time. We want to spend time in Paris, and be free to move around.” She sounded like a new woman, and was much happier than the old one who had mourned Lorenzo for so many years. And although she still honored him, Gabriel was her main focus now. She fussed over him like a mother hen, and he was thriving. And Marie-Claude was thrilled they would be in Paris together in September.
They left St. Paul de Vence at the end of August, and Maylis was excited about all the things she and Gabriel wanted to do in Paris, the exhibits she wanted to see, the museums she hadn’t been to in years, the restaurants Gabriel promised to take her to. And the day after they arrived and settled into his apartment, which suddenly seemed small for both of them but very cozy, they had dinner with Marie-Claude and her husband and children on Sunday night at Marie-Claude’s apartment. There was lots of laughter, and jokes, and good food and the children interrupting, and one of them brought a friend to dinner. Maylis made a hachis Parmentier for all of them that everyone said was delicious. She had learned to make it from the chef at the restaurant. They felt like a real family, sharing Sunday-night dinner together.
It was exactly what Marie-Claude had hoped for her father for all these years, while Maylis had been worshipping at Lorenzo’s altar, and forgetting who was beside her. Maylis was fully cognizant now of how important Gabriel was to her and always had been, and how much they loved each other.
“Thank you,” Marie-Claude whispered to her when they kissed each other goodbye and Maylis thanked her for dinner.
“For what? I’m a very, very lucky woman,” she said, glancing over at Gabriel, who was talking to his son-in-law and his grandson. “Thank you for putting up with me for all these years. I was blind.”
“We all are sometimes,” Marie-Claude said, and hugged her again before they left.
—
The month of September was busy for them, with exhibits to see, places to go, and antique fairs they loved prowling, and they stopped at his gallery on Avenue Matignon often. His health had never been better, and they were both happy. They had plans to go to Venice in October, and Maylis told Gabriel she hated to leave Paris, and he laughed at her.
“Well, that’s a new song for you.” She was so relaxed and happy these days that he hardly recognized her. For years there had been an underlying sadness about her as she continued to mourn Lorenzo, now she had finally laid him to rest. She still cherished the memories and talked about him, and was dedicated to the body of his work, but he was no longer a saint, and her memories of him were more accurate and still deeply affectionate. But she was fully present in Gabriel’s life now, and had allowed him wholly into hers.
“Now, there’s something that might be fun for you,” Gabriel said one morning in mid-September, when he opened his mail and handed her a catalog. It was a sale of vintage and new Hermès bags, and the one on the cover was a gorgeous red. And when Maylis flipped through, there were Birkins and Kelly bags in every color, both alligator and leather. The sale was taking place at the H?tel Drouot, the city’s most illustrious auction house, where they had fifteen auction rooms and forty-five auctions a week. Gabriel loved to poke around the exhibits where people could see the auction items before the actual sales. “Why don’t we stop by and check it out?”
“The prices are crazy,” she said wistfully, looking at the estimates. “They’re as expensive as they are new at Hermès.”
“Most of the bags at auction are new too,” he commented. He was familiar with the sales at Drouot and went often. “The only difference is that you don’t have to wait three years to get them.” Maylis was sorely tempted to take a look.
She left the catalog on his desk, and the following week, on a Friday, he reminded her that it was the day of the exhibition and asked her if she would like to go.
“I’m ashamed to say I would,” she said, looking sheepish.
“Don’t look so guilty,” he teased her. “You can afford it. If you find one you love, buy it.” She was interested in a beautiful black alligator Birkin, the red leather one on the cover, and a deep navy blue one. They were the size she liked and incredibly chic for her new Paris life with him. She hadn’t bought new clothes in several years, and didn’t need much in St. Paul de Vence, but he had been shopping with her and enjoying it since she got to Paris.
They went to the H?tel Drouot that afternoon, amid the hustle-bustle of antique dealers running in and out and to look at the exhibitions, take notes, and decide what they would bid on at the auctions the next day. And it wasn’t all antiques. It was everything from vintage clothes to gardening equipment, military uniforms and insignia, contemporary furniture, Persian rugs, wine, old books, taxidermy, and anything one could imagine. If there was something you wanted to buy, you could find it at Drouot, and the auctions were exciting. Sometimes Gabriel bid on the phone, especially in art auctions, but he liked the thrill of the treasure hunt and introduced Maylis to its delights, as they went from room to room, through the exhibits for all fifteen auctions, until they reached the one with the Hermès bags. They were a feast for the eye, with beautiful handbags on display. She looked at several intently. Maylis said she didn’t like the ones with the diamond clasps, and they were ridiculously expensive anyway.