I Looked for the One My Heart Loves (26 page)

44

Over the course of
the following months
, Anne managed to spend several weekends in Vienna, where she met some of Alexis's friends. Since Anne couldn't stay with him in the guesthouse, Alexis rented a room for them in a hotel near the Stephansdom. As he now spoke German and knew the city very well, Alexis was the perfect tour guide for Anne. In both the summer and wintertime, they walked the city's streets, visited churches and museums, spent long hours chatting in cafés where some of the artists Alexis was writing about hung out. Sometimes, they were joined by Stephan Goetz, a teacher of literature and translator. Since meeting at the Lycée Français, Alexis had made good use of Goetz's advice and connections in the city. He had helped Alexis with his research for the book on which he had worked hard and long. It was now complete.

“I can't wait to read it,” Anne said.

As soon as she returned to Paris, she began poring over the manuscript, trying to forget who had written it. But she couldn't. She could hear the voice of Alexis telling her all about a society tearing at the seams, as well as the masterful works of art created in this apocalyptic environment. Utterly fascinated by his topic, Alexis described and analyzed an artistic movement that would become world-famous. The prose was vivid and clean, devoid of any academic heavy-handedness. It was a brilliant study. As soon as she finished reading it, Anne picked up the phone and told Alexis he had to send his book to French publishers.

Four weeks later, an editor contacted Alexis, saying he wanted to publish his book. He suggested that the text be accompanied by illustrations and photos. That suited Alexis perfectly. A contract was signed, and the book came out in November 1975.

To celebrate the event, Alexis invited his mother to spend a few days with him in Paris. The movable partitions were set up so she would have some privacy in the Montmartre apartment.

“She hasn't come back to the neighborhood since the war,” Alexis said. “I hope she won't be too shaken up.”

Madame Messager managed to keep a nostalgia that might have poisoned her stay with her son in check. After having gone by herself to her old apartment building on Rue Becquerel, then to the bookstore, she concentrated on the present. She thought that Alexis seemed to be at peace with himself now. He had a good career, long-term projects, and enjoyed his daily life. And she was even more reassured when she met Anne. She could tell that Alexis had found the right woman for himself. Without providing too many personal details, Alexis told his mother about his relationship with Anne, how she had fallen in love with him when they were kids, how they had found each other years later. During the first meal the three of them shared, she perceived the depth of the feelings Alexis and Anne had for each other.

“When I was nine,” Anne told her, “I went to your house thinking my brother might be there. You offered me a glass of lemonade. There was a sewing machine …”

The following Sunday, Alexis and his mother came over to Anne's for dinner. Madame Messager arrived with a box of
caissons
, which Anne loved, and Alexis with a record.

Loving the way Anne had decorated her apartment, Madame Messager fell back on her old reflexes as a dresser, admiring the cushions' silk, the curtains' trimmings. Then she gazed at the pictures on the walls. Anne had brought back home the René Magritte drawings. After she and Alexis had gotten back together, Anne wanted to give him one so he could hang it in his room in Vienna. But Alexis didn't want for them to be split up.

As Alexis opened a bottle of wine, his mother stopped in front of a photo of Isabelle and Aurélie.

“Those are my daughters!” Anne said. “A friend a mine managed to make them stay put long enough to take a picture.”

Simonetta had been the one patient enough to convince the girls to sit still.

“Neither one of them really looks like you,” Madame Messager said.

“That's what I think, too,” Alexis chimed in. He had never found in the girls' faces what had attracted him to their mother.

The oldest had a bit of an arrogant expression, whereas the youngest seemed to be flirting with the camera.

Alexis knew that Anne's relationship with her daughters wasn't always easy. Especially since their father was set to remarry in the early part of 1976. Anne was dreading what impact it would have on the girls' lives, as well as her own. Alexis was in a precarious situation himself. Geneviève's state had further worsened, and Guillaume was being raised by his maternal grandparents. But the boy didn't want to leave Montreal, where he had his life and his friends. Things were difficult enough for Guillaume, and so Alexis didn't want to try to make him change his mind. Alexis also decided to wait until his son was an adult before asking Geneviève for a divorce, as he knew that it was going to be a long and bitter battle between them. …

In the meantime, Alexis took Anne on trips with him. Amsterdam, Dublin, and Barcelona were their first destinations. Under the sun or in the rain, they walked those cities' streets together. February 1978 was a landmark in their relationship, ten years since they had found each other again! To celebrate the occasion, Alexis organized a surprise trip. He told Anne to pack for three days. This was no problem, since Anne had hired an assistant to help out at the gallery.

At the train station, she still didn't know where they were heading.

“It's eight thirty,” Alexis said. “What does that make you think?”

“That we're taking an overnight train?”

“Right. And we're going to …”

“Italy, maybe?”

“Right again, but where exactly?”

“Venice …”

“Bingo! I went for the cliché. When we wake up tomorrow morning, we're going to be on the Venetian lagoon.”

Carnival hadn't started yet, and so they arrived in a city without tourists. Ignoring the gondolas, they took the vaporetto to cover long distances and go from one island to the other. They fell in love with Burano and its colorful fishermen's houses, as well as the town of Torcello, where they were the only ones visiting the Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta. Back in the City of Doges, they left Piazza San Marco to walk the alleyways leading to the Arsenale. In the heart of Via Garibaldi, Anne bought a deck of
scopa
cards for Simonetta. When they were tired or cold, she and Alexis took refuge in cafés where the windows were fogged up. Invariably, Anne ordered a cappuccino, Alexis a grappa. Laughing all the time, they felt light, without any care in the world. The only thing that mattered to them both was to enjoy the incredible moments they were spending together.

“We're so fortunate,” Alexis whispered. “So many people never get to meet the person they're meant to be with.”

“Maybe they're not aware enough? Or they're too impatient?”

Alexis thought of Geneviève. How could he have gotten himself in a relationship that was doomed before it even started? He thought she was pretty and not dumb at all. And she fell in love with him, which had flattered his ego. When he married Geneviève, he couldn't even begin to imagine her problems. Some moments of euphoria and others of megalomania on her part should have warned him. What would his life have been if Anne hadn't asked him to write a text for Amanda Kircher? He gave Anne a worried look. Their separation had caused him so much pain that he now wouldn't be able to stand any kind of friction between them.

It had been seven years since Alexis started teaching at the Lycée Français in Vienna. He was giving himself two more before settling in to Paris on a permanent basis. That would give him enough time to write a biography of Gustav Mahler. After the critical success of his first book, Alexis wanted to give a second life to this composer whose genius hadn't been recognized fully while he was alive. Anne was one hundred percent behind the project.

Since her oldest daughter had decided to study at the University of Cambridge, she felt more relaxed. Far from her father, Isabelle was no longer waiting for him to take care of her emotional needs, and she loved living in England. Remarried and the father of a little boy, François kept coming up with excuses not to spend his weekends or vacations with his daughters.

“I was right about that,” Anne told Alexis. “It's like he's turned his back on us for good.”

When Agnès came to Paris to spend a few days, Anne gave her friend Thomas's old room. Thomas, who had received a degree in business, was now working for a French corporation in Morocco. Talking about him, the two women couldn't believe how fast the years had gone by—that and how much their lives had changed.

“I ended up with what I always wanted,” Agnès said, “a man that treats me like a queen. That was my dream! You should follow my example. I mean, you shouldn't be all by yourself.”

Anne almost replied that she wasn't, but held her tongue. Ten years of secrecy weighed on her, but she still thought that the arrangement protected her relationship with Alexis from outside pressure. Madame Messager agreed with her. Anne often went down to Lyon with Alexis to visit her.

“I don't trust Genevieve,” she once said. “And I don't like the influence she has on Guillaume.”

“Does he listen to her?”

“His feelings are contradictory. On one hand, his mother gets on his nerves and she embarrasses him. On the other hand, he feels sorry because there's nothing he can do to help her. He's a very likable boy. I miss him terribly!”

Anne knew that Alexis missed him just a much. In the Montmartre apartment, there were photos of the two of them on camping, fishing, and skiing trips. …

45

At the beginning of
May
, Anne began to organize the exhibition of the work of Virginie Dubreuil, a Swiss artist whom Benjamin had discovered. A free spirit, Virginie had no use for things like discipline and punctuality, which got on Claire Fournier's nerves. Claire's responsibilities at the gallery­ were increasing. Anne had hired her as an assistant a few months before to lighten her own workload and give herself more time to spend with Alexis. Though she was competent, Claire Fournier was also easily offended.

The day before the opening, things got stickier between the two women. All the paintings were on the walls when Virginie said she wanted two of the bigger works to be moved.

“But you're the one who decided in what order the paintings should be displayed!” Claire snapped.

“So I decided to change my mind. What's wrong with that?”

“You do it yourself, then. Here's the ladder …”

“I've never been treated this way!” Virginie said, red in the face. “Where's Anne? I want to talk to her!”

Since Alexis had his apartment in Montmartre, and they no longer needed their secret room, Anne had set up her office on the mezzanine floor. She was there doing some paperwork when the fight broke out. She got up from her desk.

“I heard the conversation,” she told Virginie. “Why do you want to change things at the last minute?”

“I just want to make sure things are right. …”

“But we tried that set up yesterday!”

“I know, but I'm not sure. …”

Anne grabbed the ladder.

“You're not the one who should do that!” Claire said.

Without a word, Anne unhooked the first painting and handed it to her.

As the first visitors began to arrive, Anne admitted to Simonetta that she hadn't invested herself one hundred percent in this show.

“Do you think I'm beginning to get tired of the business?” she asked her friend.

“It doesn't look to me like you are.”

“I don't have the jitters like I usually do on opening night. I feel detached. …”

“The truth is that you're not enthusiastic about this woman's work. You did this only as a favor to Benjamin.”

Anne hadn't told Simonetta that something major was occupying her mind. In Paris for a long weekend, Alexis had asked her if he could attend the opening. Incognito, of course!

While Benjamin was registering a purchase, Anne saw her lover walk inside the gallery and mingle with people who knew nothing about their relationship. Their gazes crossed, and he smiled at her before walking to a painting. Anne was dying to go up to him, but she had to take care of a collector whose daughter seemed to be thrilled by Virginie Dubreuil's art.

While the transaction was taking place, Alexis admired Anne's technique; her smile was charming and her arguments extremely convincing. As she put a red dot under the painting she had just sold, he noticed the pinky ring he had given her, a gold band with small, glittering diamond stars. Watching her among strangers, he experienced a kind of jealousy. She was perceived by all as a divorced and free woman. And though she didn't say anything about it, Alexis knew that men were flirting with her, asking her out. After having kept their relationship a secret for such a long time, he now longed to tell everyone they were a couple.

As soon as she could, Anne came over to him.

“Hi, Alexis,” she said.

As Simonetta stood nearby, Anne had no choice but to introduce Alexis to her.

“Alexis Messager, this is Signora Lorenzetti.”

Anne turned to her Italian friend and said, “Alexis is an old friend. He teaches in Vienna.”

In a flash, Simonetta realized that the man standing there was the one who occupied such a large part of Anne's life. Intrigued, she examined him. He was handsome, with the deep and sensitive gaze of an idealistic man. His handshake was firm, his smile warm.

“Have you been to this gallery before?” Simonetta asked.

“Once or twice …”

Anne had told Alexis enough about Simonetta for him to be on his guard as he talked. But the glint in the woman's eyes, as well as her smile, made him think that she had already guessed who he really was.

“And so you live in Vienna?” she said.

“Yes,” Alexis said. “I have for the past eight years.”

“I worked for the Vienna State Opera once.”

“Oh yes?”

“I did the set for
Il Seraglio
. That was back in 1958. …”

Anne had to return to her customers, but she kept glancing at Alexis and Simonetta chatting away. That was rare in Simonetta's case! In spite of her progress communicating with others, she remained suspicious of strangers. When most of the visitors had left, Anne saw Benjamin walking over to Alexis. Simonetta introduced the two men.

“Monsieur Messager is a friend of Anne's,” she told Benjamin.

Benjamin almost replied that he knew that. At Phil and Lizzie's in Sausalito, he'd seen a photo, taken a few years back, of the artist, his wife, Anne, and Messager holding up their glasses of wine. When he saw it, Benjamin thought that this good-looking man must have been Anne's “Californian lover.”

Simonetta and Benjamin made no comments to Anne about Alexis. Besides, Simonetta's upcoming exhibition was keeping them all very busy. After a few years, it was time for another “Lorenzetti Event.” Especially since the Italian artist had so much great work to offer still.

“We have to come up with a theme,” Benjamin said, “as strong as the Bedroom Series the first time.”

Simonetta thought about it, and then suggested models and pastels of roofs and balconies of a variety of palaces and historical buildings.

“We could title the exhibition
The Observatory
,” she said.

Aurélie, who was at the meeting, applauded the idea.

After graduating from high school and turning eighteen, she was now in a fashion-design school, where she was one of the best students. Since Isabelle was living in England, she enjoyed living alone with her mother and had no interest in leaving the nest anytime soon. Like all young women her age, Aurélie liked partying, dancing in clubs, and music.

“I'm desperately normal,” she kept telling Benjamin. “I'm not even jealous of my stepmother,” she'd add, making a veiled reference to her sister's feelings.

Once in a while, she visited her father, chatted with his wife, and brought gifts for her half-brother. She actually liked the boy.

Passionate and ambitious, Aurélie understood that work would be extremely important in her life, and she wanted to give it her all. A wooden mannequin and a sewing machine were in her bedroom. No doubt influenced by Simonetta, she wanted to work for the theater. … Because of that, she also took art history courses in school.

Anne had met Stephan Goetz in Vienna four years earlier. Until his appointment to the Österreichische Institut in Paris, Alexis's friend had taught German literature at the Lycée Français. Now settled in an apartment on Rue des Martyrs, he invited Anne and Alexis to spend the evening there with him. During dinner, Stephan announced that he would love to translate Alexis's book about the Secession movement. Then he told Alexis and Anne about his walks in Paris. With her keen sense for detail, Anne had no trouble following him in his poetic wanderings. Stephan had also bought used books and magazines on the history of Paris.

Certain that he would love Anne's gallery, Alexis took his friend there a few days later. After giving Stephan a tour of the place, Anne led the two men downstairs to the storeroom, something she almost never did.

Standing in front of a large watercolor representing the terrace of a neoclassical palace, Stephan asked, “Who did that?”

“Simonetta Lorenzetti,” Anne said. “An Italian artist.”

Anne placed the canvas under better lighting, and said, “It's a sketch for the set of
Tosca
she created years ago.”

“It's gorgeous!” Stephan said, shaking his head.

The way he gazed at Simonetta's work, Anne could tell it had stirred something deep inside him. …