"PARIS"

"Push"

"I can’t. I'm too tired."

He was whispering in her ear, trying to give her the encouragement she needed, but he was feeling so helpless.

Sweat was pouring off her. Her eyes were beginning to lose their focus. She was so very tired.

"Didn't I just do this?" She pleaded.
"Didn't I just give birth less than an hour ago?"

"Yes, we had a healthy baby boy, but his sister is waiting to make her appearance. It shouldn't be that much longer."

"Easy for you to day", she hissed. "You’re not the one doing this."

"I understand, baby."

"How could you possibly know what I am feeling at this very moment? Have YOU ever given birth?" She had a hold of his shirt and was staring menacingly into his eyes.

"No, it was just a figure of speech. You're right, I have no idea."

So now what! You're patronizing me?"

The doctor injected that it was just the pain and she didn't mean what she was saying.

"You want to bet." She said. "I mean every word of it."

Before anyone could say anything more another contraction washed over her like a giant wave.

"Oh God, I think this is it." She screamed. She was squeezing his hand so hard that his fingers were being crushed. He had forgotten how strong she was.

Sure enough, the shoulders were through. A few more pushed and the baby was born. Claudine Marie had made her entrance into the world. One hour after her brother, William Joshua had made his.

Annie was exhausted, exhilarated and her muscles were shaking violently. 24 hours of labor will do that to a person.

JC was just so happy he couldn't stop smiling. He bent down and gently kissed her parched lips.

"I love you. You are the most beautiful woman in the world and I am the luckiest man. God has been so good to us. I thank Him everyday for bringing you into my life. You complete me."

"JC, that is the sappiest thing I have ever heard."

"Yea, I know."

"And that's why I love you."

Later, as the little family was settling into their room; JC looked around and was overwhelmed. He didn't feel like an international superstar. He was just an ordinary, every day guy whose wife had just given birth to twins! William was fast asleep in his arms, while Claudine was nursing at Annie's breast. Annie had remarked earlier that William was just like his dad, a breast man. JC had gotten a hurt look on his face and then just started laughing. Annie was right. She knew him oh so well.

Claudine was finished and Annie was starting to fall asleep. He put William in his crib and gently took his daughter into his arms. He looked at her and thought how much she looked like Annie while William seemed to favor him. William Joshua was named for Annie's father and him; while Claudine Marie was named for two dearly departed friends and Annie's mother. They both had dark hair but he was hoping that at least one of them would have the auburn hair of their mother. He loved the way the light played off her hair. Their eyes were, of course, blue, most babies are. Again, he hoped that one of the children would have Annie's eyes. Those golden brown, hazel pools that changed with her moods. They were the feature he loved most about his wife.

He was starting to nod off. He had been with Annie the whole time and it was starting to take it toll on him, too. He placed Claudine in her crib and settled back in the chair to rest. He had pulled it next to the bed, so he could hold Annie's hand. As he slowly drifted off, he started dreaming about Paris.

Paris - Chapter One


FLASHBACK, Paris 1996

JC was in Europe. He and the guys were starting on their journey to becoming *Nsync. They were working 16-18 hours days and slowly driving themselves into a state of exhaustion. Justin’s mom (Lynn) had a "mom fit" and they began to get one day a week off to rest and relax. They had finished up their work in Stockholm earlier than planned and now found themselves with a little extra time on their hands. Joey, ever the adventurer, suggested that they take a day or two and explore Paris, particularly the Moulin Rouge. After being politely informed that he wasn’t old enough, part of his happy little euphoria seemed to wear off. JC wanted to stay at the hotel and sleep, but the others wouldn’t hear of it and managed to convince him to come. All five guys, Lance and Justin’s mothers and two tour-guides/translators (who had met them at the airport) rolled into Paris. Little did JC know, but destiny was already starting to crack its knuckles in preparation.

After they had checked into their hotel, they split into two groups. JC and Joey along with Lance and his mother (Diane) took one of the tour guides; a pleasant lady named Jeannette, to explore the west part of town. Chris, Justin and Lynn took the other and went east. As they traversed the streets of Paris, Joey noticed a little café. He convinced (JC had particularly liked "before my legs fall off from starvation") the others to stop and get some coffee and croissants. It was a very French thing to do, but it was fun trying to fit into another culture.

They hadn’t been seated very long (Joey was only on his third croissant) when a young woman came walking down the street. She was wearing slim, black jeans with black flats and a white T-shirt. She wore two small silver hoops in her ears and a tiny filigree silver cross could be seen discreetly hanging around her neck. Her auburn hair, which gleamed as the sun danced off it, was held up with two clips. Some tiny pieces of hair had come loose, resting beautifully against her golden skin. Her long legs went well with what they assumed to be her 5’10" height. The young lady wasn’t over-endowed, shall we say but everything was put together very well and fit perfectly. She was a rarity, a truly drop-dead gorgeous creature that doesn’t even realize that she is. The woman swept past them and settled into the table right next to theirs. Her perfume was intoxicating, yet subtle. It had been made especially for her by a dear friend and suited her well. She ordered tea and a croissant. She was not a big fan of coffee and Pierre, the café owner, always made sure he had a supply of her favorite Russian tea on hand. She was slipping her tea and reading the newspaper when she realized that someone was staring at her. Well, make that three someones. Joey, Lance and JC were mesmerized. Finally, Diane tapped them on the shoulder. "You’re being rude, staring at her like that. Stop it." Then, to take a little of the sting out of it, she smiled. "And shut your mouths, you’re attracting flies."


Eventually, Joey got up the courage to walk over to her table. "Hello". She glanced up at him from her paper, her hazel brown eyes looking slightly amused. "Bonjour." Joey realized now that he might have a problem. It hadn’t occurred to him before that a woman he met in Paris might actually speak French instead of English. If he couldn’t speak her language, how was he going to hit on her? He quickly ran back to the table and dragged Jeannette with him, who engaged the young woman in conversation.

Joey immediately began firing off a dozen questions in rapid succession, forgetting that Jeannette had twice as much to do with speaking than he did.
Somehow, the poor woman managed to keep up. She asked the young lady if she would be interested in eating at the young man’s table, possibly joining him and his friends afterwards on their tour of the city. She politely declined, saying that she had an appointment and was busy all day, but thanked them for their kind offer. Dejected, Joey stalked back towards the table.

A few minutes later, the young woman stood. As she was leaving, JC overheard her tell Pierre where she was headed. Once she was out of earshot, JC turned to the others. "Let’s follow her."

"What are we? Stalkers?" Joey grinned at him, showing great interest in the idea despite his words.

"No. I’d just like to talk to her." JC had never been this bold before, especially when it came to women. He was so insistent that they finally relented and followed her to a little art gallery.

(Note: When French is spoken, it will be in parentheses.)

It was a quaint little shop off on a side street with an Old World charm that theme parks try to emulate but can never quite pull off. The building was a small, one-story structure with a smaller second story for use as a storage space. The gray stones on the exterior complimented the windows, which were squarish with rounded tops, nicely. It had been owned by the same family for generations and still bore scars from the war. If you looked closely, you could see the Star of David and "Jude Verboten" in faded yellow paint on the front windows. The proprietor had insisted that it not be removed as a sign of remembrance for those who had died.

The interior of the shop was almost a mirror image of the outside. A hardwood floor worn by years of customers traveling over its surface bore the displays above it with pride. The walls were of a faded white deco, so as not to attract attention away from the art pieces they were meant to showcase. One of the walls was nothing but shelves filled with small, original sculptures. None of the cheap, tourist-specific created ones, like miniatures of the Eiffel Tower. A glass counter at the back held within it several pieces of antique jewelry, restored with special devotion and love. An old-style cash register rested at one end.

The owner himself was a merry little man named Claude, who sat on a stool behind the counter by a curtain that led into the house portion of the building. He had white hair, a scruffy beard and a cheerful disposition and his clothes would remind some people of an Old European Mr. Rogers, complete with shawl-like sweaters, faded yet dignified slacks and comfy loafers. Both hands rested on the handle of his cane; an unremarkable piece of wood designed only to help support his weight. On the ring finger of his left hand, a small gold band could be seen. It was only his faded jade green eyes that revealed a deep level of suffering that he hid away inside, betraying the pain that he had seen over the years. Yet, despite this, he smiled at the young woman as she entered.

("Bonjour, Annie. How are you doing today?")

She smiled and patted his hand as she stepped behind the counter. ("Very well, thank you.") Her expression sobered a little. ("How are you?")

Claude returned her earlier smile. ("Wonderful, now that you’re here.")

He watched as Annie greeted Jacques, his grandson. The boy had dirty blonde hair that sometimes fell in front of his brown eyes, reminding Claude of Marie. His cargo pants and non-descript T-shirt made him look slightly artistic, though not nearly as much as Annie.

Claude had fought in the underground resistance when the Nazis came into Paris. He had lost many of his close friends and family to the slaughter that had followed. Sometimes the agony of the memories was almost unbearable, but small reminders of his present life helped keep it from growing too big. In fact, one of the only times he felt truly happy was when Annie and Jacques would start teasing each other and run to him for back-up. He loved her as if she were his own granddaughter, would have given his life for her without a second thought. When Annie had her first gallery showing, he’d almost burst with pride. It is for these reasons that Claude was instantly on guard when three young men came bursting through the door of his shop. Annie had just gone into the back room to get her portfolio when the guys came stumbling in, looking much like puppies who hadn’t quite grown into their feet yet.

"Bonjour" Jacques greeted them. "May I help you?" He noted that all three of them were taller than himself.

Great, he speaks English; Joey mentally sighed in relief. "Yes, we’re looking for a young woman who just came in here. We saw her earlier at the café down the street, and my friend would like to meet her."

"Why?" Claude asked suspicious. He rose from his chair and approached the boys, using his cane to steady himself. He came towards them with a slow, menacing gait, his cane tapping sharply on the wooden floor. Lance was beginning to feel uneasy. "My grandson and I run this shop. Although we pride ourselves on our customer service – yes, believe it or not, not all Frenchmen are rude – we are not in the habit of introducing total strangers to ladies in our employ."

Just then, Diane and Jeannette entered the shop. Over the tinkling bell, the former was heard to say "What a marvelous place."

This temporarily broke the tension. JC stammered as he tried to explain how he felt to Claude. "I thought…no I was captivated...no, she’s very intriguing and I was hoping to meet her."

The old man met his gaze icily. "So, do you make it a rule to follow young women you don’t know? I don’t know about America, but here in France there are laws governing that type of behavior." He was slowly advancing on JC.

"No sir." JC was visibly shaken.

("Claude? Do you or Jacques need any help? It sounds like you have a lot of customers.") Annie had returned from behind the curtain leading to the back rooms. She had a portfolio under her arm.

("No, we’re fine. We can handle it.") Claude turned to smile at her. ("You run along to your appointment. Mr. Basille doesn’t like to be kept waiting.")

("All right, I should be back in a few hours if all goes well. Wish me luck.")

("You don’t need luck, you have talent. But I shall say a prayer for you.")

("Merci") She kissed him on top of his head and breezed past the boys. Without even so much as a backward glance, she was out the door and in the street.

Lance watched after her, bewildered. "She didn’t even see us."

"Yeah, we’re real smooth." Joey sighed. "Made quite an impression on a beautiful babe."

JC remained silent. He felt too disappointed.

Jacques glanced over JC’s shoulder and saw Annie at the window with a big smile on her face. She knew the effect she’d had on them and was flattered. She motioned for him to slip out the back and meet her in the alley. Jacques excused himself quietly and went out.

When he met her in the alley, Jacques was surprised by how happy she seemed. It appeared that the attention those young men had given her meant a great deal to her.

("Jacques, those are the young men I saw in the café this morning. The dark Italian one tried to pick me up.") She giggled slightly at the memory of it. ("What are they doing here?")

("The Italian one said his friend, the handsome one with the not quite perfect face, wanted to meet you. He said he had never seen such a beautiful woman in all his life.")

Annie laughed and rolled her eyes. ("Sure he did.")

("Seriously, that’s what he said. Grandfather is trying to intimidate him. I think he’s doing a pretty good job of it, though they seem harmless enough.")

("You have to admire them; it’s very sweet. Tell you what, let them know I’ll be back around 5:00 this evening. It they want, they can wait or come back later. Then I’ll meet them.")

Jacques looked at her, a little confused. ("Are you sure?")

("Why not? You and Claude are here to protect me. They seem a little naïve, so we might as well treat them to a memorable French experience.")

("Okay, see you in awhile then.") He hesitated. ("Good luck!")

("I’ll need it. If I land this job, then I can stay here and finish up my Master’s. Everything is riding on this interview.")

("But I thought you wanted to change your focus and concentrate on sculpting.")

("I do, but if I can paint at his studio, I’ll have enough money to buy supplies and sculpt on my own time.") Annie shook her head, focusing back on what she had to do. ("Gotta run. Please add your prayers to Claude’s.") She blew him a kiss and walked down the street.

Jacques watched her leave his feelings in turmoil. ‘Those boys are right,’ he thought. ‘She is the most beautiful woman in the world. Unfortunately, she’ll always just think of me as her "Big Brother"; nothing more, nothing less.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, I can settle for that. I can be near her, loving her and hoping that maybe, just maybe she will look at me the way I look at her.’
Jacques sighed, walking back into the front area of the shop. The scene was pretty much as he’d left it. Diane and Jeannette were admiring art pieces with
Lance, who had joined them. In fact, the latter was picking out something to take home to his sister. Joey was standing almost protectively in front of JC, who was trying to look anywhere but into the piercing eyes of Claude.

("Grandpa.") Jacques called out softy to him. ("Please come here for a moment.")

Claude moved towards him, all the while keeping his gaze fixed firmly on JC and Joey. Jacques whispered in his ear what Annie had told him in the alley. By the time, Jacques had finished, Claude was fuming. ("Are you sure?")

("Oui.")

Claude turned to the boys. "If you two wish to meet the young lady in question be back here at 5:00 this evening." He fixed a glare on JC. "You will then be properly introduced. Now unless, you are going to buy something, please leave my shop. Thank you."

Lance and Diane made their purchases and went out into the street, Jeannette with them. Joey and JC soon followed.

Joey smiled and nodded his head towards the door of the shop. "Feisty old guy, isn’t he?"

Lance nodded, conveying his agreement. "I wouldn’t mess with him."

"You are a wise young man." Jeannette noted. "Claude is well known around here as a former resistance fighter during the war. He may seem old and frail but there’s a lot of fight still left in him."

"JC, your call." Diane turned towards him. "What do you want to do?"

JC seemed to consider it for a moment. "I don’t want to waste your time on our only day off, so all you go on and see the sights. I think I’ll stay here and get to know Claude."

Diane’s mothering instinct kicked in. "You sure you’ll be all right?" She was concerned about leaving him alone in a strange place with a somewhat hostile atmosphere.

JC nodded to put her fears down then turned to the translator. "Jeannette, could you introduce me and tell him what I want?"

"I’ll give it a try." The two of them returned to the counter, where Claude had reclaimed his seat.

Jeanette stepped forward. ("Monsieur, my young friend realizes that he has gotten off to a bad start and would like to begin, in a more proper manner.")

Claude appeared to think about it. ("Agreed, I’ll give him a second chance.")

"Monsieur Claude Garçon, I would like to introduce you to Joshua Chasez."

JC extended his hand and shook Claude’s firmly, surprised by the strength he felt there. "Pleased to meet you, sir. My friends are going to do some touring, but I’d be honored if you would allow me to stay and talk to you."

Claude narrowed his eyes at him. "Why is that?"

"Well, Jeannette told me that you were a resistance fighter. I’ve always been a bit of a history buff and I’d love to learn from someone who was actually there what things were like, to hear about your adventures, unless they’re too painful for you." JC paused. "From the little Jeannette told me, I gather things were not like they are portrayed in the movies.

"That is very true." Claude’s expression softened as he heard the sincerity in JC’s voice. "I would also be honored it you would join Jacques and myself for some lunch. I have a little trouble with English sometimes, so Jacques helps. I hope you don’t mind."

"No, not at all."

Seeing that everything would be all right, Jeannette went back outside to join the others. "We’ll see you at 5:00."

Paris - Chapter Two

Flashback

After Jacques had placed the "Closed for Lunch" sign on the shop door, he and Claude led JC into the kitchen behind the shop. It was small and cozy. The walls were two-tone, with faded wallpaper that had once displayed small flowers along the top and old wood along the bottom. A rail, at about waist height, separated the two different patterns. The walls themselves showed their age, but in no way did they look decrepit or uncared for. There are simply some things in life that show their age, no matter what you do to them and most of those things actually turn out possessing quite a bit of charm from their new look.

The floor was well-worn linoleum with a blue and white checkered pattern. A white, old-fashioned sideboard stood unobtrusively in a corner. In the center of the room sat a little round table, with a blue and white checkered tablecloth that matched the floor and a small vase as it centerpiece.

Jacques went over to the sideboard and gathered up the plates, glasses and silverware while Claude got out the meat, cheese, mustard and fruit from the tiny icebox.

JC asked it there was anything he could do to help, but instead was seated by Jacques, who explained that since he was the guest, he should relax and let them deal with the food.

Claude turned from his preparations and glanced at JC, appearing to size him up. "How old are you, son?"

The question took JC a little by surprise, so he needed a brief moment to think about it. "Twenty."

"Ever had wine before?"

"Just a little, sir."

Claude nodded. "Then I’ll give you a glass like we give children; half water and half wine. Then its water for you."

JC was about to protest that he wasn’t a child, but then decided against it.

A few minutes later, they all sat down around the table. Claude gave the blessing and they all dug in.

It was simple fare, but JC was in heaven. This would be the birth of his love for fine food and wine. The cheese was pungent, the bread crusty, and the fruit had just the right amount of sweetness to contrast with the rest of the meal. After he had finished his wine, JC saw the wisdom in Claude’s actions. The wine had been very strong and the boy now found himself a little light-headed. He gratefully accepted a glass of water and sat back in his chair. He had so many questions; he wasn’t sure where to start.

"Tell me sir-" he began, but he was interrupted.

"It’s Claude."

"Okay." JC paused for a moment to get used to the name. "What was it like during the occupation?"

Claude leaned back a little, letting the memories he hid deep inside to rise to the surface. "Well, it was a gradual process. In some ways, it was so gradual no one saw it coming. In others, it arrived with a terrifying swiftness. My wife Marie, my son Alex and I were living behind the shop in this little place. She was half-Jewish and as such was subject to many rules and regulations. I didn’t have as many, but was considered an undesirable because I was a "Jew-lover."

"Before the fall of Paris, we would listen to the radio each night, hearing more as the Germans moved from one land to the next. We knew it was only a matter of time before they arrived here, so I tried to get Marie to leave. We discussed going to England or possibly even America."

JC, enthralled as he was, gently broke in with a question. "Why didn’t you?"

"Money. It cost a great deal to flee, plus Marie’s father lived with us. He was getting too old and frail to travel, and of course, we wouldn’t think of leaving him behind. We could never have lived with ourselves."

"When the Germans marched into Paris, I was sickened as they were cheered by so many. The people were blind to the fact that they weren’t here to liberate or help us, but to subjugate or destroy. I couldn’t believe that everyone was so blind to their true intentions."

"The regulations started almost immediately. Jews were forbidden to go out after dark, associate with non-Jews, shop at non-Jewish shops, use public transportation…the list seemed endless. Gradually, all of the freedoms were taken away, stolen from them while they looked it in the face, yet so slyly that no one noticed it happening until they were gone."

"Jews had to wear a yellow star on all their clothing that read "JUDE". It practically killed me the day Marie, her father and Alex had to put on the star for the first time. I was exempt but a yellow star was painted on my shop, which said "Jude Verboten". Jews were no longer allowed to shop here."

Claude paused, then looked JC in the eye. "Did you see the faint markings on my front windows?" He asked quietly.

JC nodded somberly. "Yes."

"I keep it there as a reminder of all that occurred." Claude took a sip of wine, then continued. "With the star on my shop, I started losing customers. The Jews couldn’t shop here and the non-Jews either couldn’t or wouldn’t because Marie worked here. I didn’t know that we were going to do. If it hadn’t been for the few friends who smuggled in supplies to us, we would have starved."

"My brother Pierre and his wife decided to leave for England. Even with the occupation, you could still get out if you had the money. He offered to take Alex with them, saying that since he was childless and if anything happened to me, that the family name would go on. I told him I didn’t care about the name, that I just wanted my son to be safe. After thinking it over for a while, I agreed. It was the hardest, yet somehow easiest, decision I have ever had to make."

"We packed up his clothes, a few toys and a letter which was to be read to him when he was older, in case we didn’t survive the war." Claude paused again.

"They left on a Saturday. I would not see my son until 5 1/2 years later. He was only two when I sent him away."

"Monday I went down to the market to see if I could find us a little food. When I returned, the shop door was open, hanging off one of its hinges. I rushed in and saw all of the paintings had been slashed, the pottery broken and scattered across the floor. The cash box was missing as well."

"At first, I could only stand there shaking with rage. ‘ Who would do such a thing?’ I thought to myself. "Who would want to vandalize and destroy my shop?" Then I realized that it was eerily quiet, and that I didn’t hear Marie or her father."

"I ran into the living room. It too was in shambles. Papa’s wheelchair was overturned, the back door torn completely from the frame. I called for Marie, but there was no answer, nor was there any sign of her to be found.

"I raced into the street, calling her name and praying to God that he would help me find her. All I felt was fear and confusion...we had followed all their rules, had never been in any trouble with them. Why had they done this to us? It just didn’t seem right."

"Finally, I was exhausted and collapsed in the street. As I knelt there, tears streaming down my face, I saw a glint of metal and looked closer. It was Marie’s locket, the one she always wore."

"It was then I knew, without a doubt. I picked it up, squeezing it so hard it left an impression in my hand. I don’t know how long I sat there, but eventually I felt my neighbor lift me by the arm and take me back inside his house."

"I asked if he had seen Marie or my father-in-law. He confirmed he had, only ten minutes after I had left. He said the Nazis had come and dragged all the Jews into the street, forcing them to enter large trucks. He had followed at a safe distance as they were taken to the train station and loaded onto cattle cars. Then the train had left."

"I found the courage to ask him where the train was headed. He only looked at me sadly, then said that we both knew the rumors. They were going east."

"I remember crying out and sinking to the floor, inconsolable. He had taken me to a spare room, where I slipped into a catatonic state for nearly a week.
Then, just as suddenly, I snapped out of it."

Claude’s face grew hard with the memory of his determination. "They may have destroyed my business, taken my wife and forced me to send my son into exile, but I swore they were not going to succeed without a fight. The very next day, I went out and joined the resistance fighters. For the next few years, I would do everything in my power to destroy, disturb and defeat the seemingly unstoppable Nazi machine."

Claude stopped, taking another sip from his glass. Jacques had been busy throughout the story quietly clearing the table, putting food away and doing the dishes. He had heard the tale many times before and would hold his grandfather in the night when the man had nightmares and cold sweats.

JC was transfixed, feeling as if he couldn’t move. He felt a dampness on his cheeks, and it was only then he realized he’d been crying. The boy felt like he was suffocating, overcome with the full weight of what Claude had been through as it were his own. "I’m sorry." He whispered, barely audible. "So very sorry. How can you possibly bear it? I would’ve been crushed, could never have found the courage to do what you did. You’re much stronger than I could ever hope to be in a situation like that."

"No, I am not." Claude looked up at JC, the pain of his memories displayed across his face. "I was living unimaginable horror, doing things that to this day I pray that God will forgive me for. In some ways, I was no better than the very people I was fighting against."

"That…can’t be true."

"In a way, it is. The man sighed then slowly stood. "But let’s stop here. That’s enough talk about the war. Instead, I would like to show you something."

Claude left the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a small, ornate box. He gently set it on the table and opened the lid. He lovingly withdrew a few pictures and a small locket.

The pictures showed a small child with mother and father, a happy couple dressed formally and 3 more of a lovely dark-haired woman. Claude held the first one out to JC. "This is the only picture of Marie, Alex and myself together." The second one took the place of the first after JC had studied it. "This is our wedding picture."

Claude seemed almost reluctant to give up the last three. "These are of Marie."

JC looked at them closely. "She was very pretty."

"Yes, she was." Claude sat down in the chair again. "Marie was the gentlest creature. She had such a love for people; so trusting, so helpful. That is why it was so hard for her to believed that people who had been her friends for so long suddenly didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. In some ways, I think that hurt more than when she was taken away. That was an enemy she knew, not a faceless invader."

JC leaned forward and put his hand on Claude’s arm. Very quietly, he asked. "What happened to everyone? To Marie, her father and Alex?"

"Survivors told me that Marie’s father died on the way to Auchswitz. Marie "lived" there for two months until-" Claude broke off, tears coming to his eyes.
"One night, six guards took her to their quarters and raped her. She died of her injuries the following morning."

"After the war, I was reunited with Alex. It was hard. We’d both been through so much. We tried to have as normal as life as one can after all we’d been through.
He grew up and married at an early age. Jacques was born almost immediately. One night, I was watching Jacques while Alex and his wife went out. They’d had too much to drink and were killed in a car accident on the way here to get him.

"In some ways, I blame myself for Alex’s death. We both had too many demons to overcome. That is why I have tried to be a father and grandfather to Jacques."

("You’ve done a great job, Grandpere.") Jacques enfolded his grandfather in his arms, kissing him on the forehead. ("I love you.")

JC sat back stunned. The day seemed bittersweet, illuminating and heart wrenching at the same time. He looked down at the photographs in his hand, the ones of Marie. To love someone so much, it must have hurt unspeakably to go on without her. And yet, if people could learn from the past, keep the same mistakes from happening again, than everything that Claude and the others like him went through all those years ago wouldn’t be in vain.

It also made JC realize how precious life was, that nothing could be taken for granted because it could all be ripped away at any moment. After that day, JC made a conscious effort to take a few minutes whenever he could to make sure everyone important in his life realized just how much they meant to him. He would hate to die letting someone think he hadn’t appreciated them, had neglected them because his career was higher on his list of priorities than human beings. He vowed he would never make that mistake, no matter what it took.

Paris - Chapter Three

Present Day

"JC? Can you hear me?" Someone was calling his name. "Josh" And whoever it was seemed to be getting louder and more insistent. "Joshua!"

JC finally opened his eyes, the last remnants of the dream ending. He was back in the present.

Annie was staring at him from her bed. Seeing he was finally awake, she smiled at him. "Josh honey, have you called anyone yet to let them know what happened?"

JC suddenly felt very alert…and sheepish. "Omigosh, I completely forgot! I was so happy and wrapped up in the moment. It just slipped my mind." He grinned at her. "Of course, it wasn’t like I had much choice, since you had a death-grip on my hand."

Annie pointedly ignored his last comment, but did roll her eyes. "Well, now that the evil gripy-hand has released you, don’t you think you might want to do that now? Lance sure was worried when we left his house right after dinner, especially since this all happened earlier than expected."

JC picked up the cell phone and started dialing. After a few seconds, he started speaking. "Mom? Dad? It’s Josh. Annie and I…well, actually, Annie…had the babies about 3 hours ago. I would’ve called sooner but we fell asleep."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry."

"Everyone’s doing fine."

"Boy and girl."

"He’s 6 pounds, 21 inches. She’s 5 pounds, 8 ounces, 20 inches."

"Yes, they both have all their parts. I checked."

"She’s fine but very tired."

"Love you too."

"See you tomorrow. Bye."

An almost identical conversation repeated itself with Annie’s parents.

JC called Johnny, who suggested placing a brief announcement in the newspapers in the morning, if it was all right with them. After some discussion, Annie and JC agreed, saying that it was fine. It would read: JC Chasez, singer/songwriter of *Nsync and Annie O’Reilly Chasez, artist and medical sculptress, are pleased to announce the birth of their twins at St. John’s Hospital Birthing Center. Mother, son and daughter are doing well.

JC decided Chris should receive the next call, since Justin was probably with him. They had said they were going to play some golf, which meant they’d probably ended up at Chris’ house to play video games and watch movies.

"Hey man."

"Sorry, I woke you. Forgot it’s 4 am."

"Just called to tell you that you and Justin are "uncles" again."

"Chris, my ear! I need it to sing, especially since I have a family to support now."

"Hey Justin, sorry. I see Chris woke you up."

"Yeah, his couch is comfy."

"Boy and a girl."

"Everyone’s fine."

"Thanks man."

"I’ll talk to you tomorrow. The folks are flying in tomorrow to see the babies. You can come in too."

"No, still have to call Joey and Lance."

"Bye."

JC hesitated before calling Joey, but Annie said that he’d be hurt if they didn’t tell him."

"Joey"

"Hey guy, sorry to wake you, but I wanted to tell you the babies are here."
"Yeah, we’re all fine."

"Annie says to tell Kelly she was right. She’ll know what she means."

"There’s nothing like it, Joe. I feel like I’ll explode if I don’t keep telling people."

"When Claudine looked into my eyes and was holding onto my finger…I just melted! And William…I have a son, man!"

"Thanks, talk to you tomorrow when you come over."

JC hung up the phone, sighed and began to dial Lance’s number.

"Okay, one more to go."

"Lance? Hi, it’s JC."

"Where are you? The signal is so clear."

"The waiting room?"

"Have you been there all night?"

"I’m coming to get you. Stay put." He was about to hang up, but then remembered Annie. He managed to stop himself in time. "Wait a moment, let me check with Annie." This time, he turned to her. "Annie, Lance is in the waiting room."

"I heard."

"Do you mind if I being him back?"

Annie seemed to deliberate for a moment. "Get my bag."

JC complied, still keeping Lance on the line.

"Just give me a minute." She got out her brush and ran it through her hair while JC ended his conversation with Lance. Then, using a few clips, she piled it on top of her head.

"I love brushing your hair."

Annie laughed. "If I remember, that’s what led to this present situation, isn’t it?" She put a light dusting of blush on her cheeks, a touch of mascara and a little lip gloss, then turned to him. "Well, how do I look?"

"Beautiful. But then, you always do."

"No seriously." She was straightening her gown; JC had bought for her. It was pale blue and looked wonderful against her skin, a reminder of just how good JC’s "developing artist’s eye" was becoming. "Go get Lance."

JC went out the door, returning about five minutes later. Lance followed in behind him, carrying two teddy bears. One was pink the other blue. "These are for the babies."

Annie could only giggle at him. "Lance, those are as big as you are."

"I know. Guess I got carried away."

"Thank you. They’re wonderful."

Lance set them down, then came over and kissed Annie on the cheek.

"You look radiant."

"And you’re a lying southern dog." She winked at him. He gave her his best puppy dog eyes, making all three of them laugh. "Do you want to see the babies?’

"Yes, I’d love to."

Lance walked over to William’s crib first. The boy had his thumb in his mouth and was quietly sucking away. "He’s so little and perfect. You’re so lucky, JC."

Then he walked over to Claudine’s crib. She had just opened her eyes and was looking at him. He’d never experienced a feeling like this before. Oh sure, he was Brianna’s godfather and loved her dearly, but he hadn’t seen her so soon after birth. He found that he was overcome and a tear made its way down his cheek.

Just then, Claudine let out a little sigh. It startled Lance so much he jumped.

JC walked over and gently picked up his daughter. "Would you like to hold her?"

Lance looked up at him. "Can I?"

"Of course, but first you have to put on one of these lovely hospital gowns like I’m wearing."

Lance complied and sat down in the chair next to Annie. JC placed the baby in his lap. "She won’t break, you know. Just make sure that one arm is supporting her head."

Lance held the little body in his arms and again was overwhelmed by emotion. All the while, JC was covertly taking pictures. "Hey Lance, look at me."

He looked up and JC snapped a picture. "I think I’ll send this one to the "Enquirer." Headline – Lance Bass: the real father of one of JC’s twins. The Untold Story."

Everyone laughed, waking William who immediately began to wail and let everyone know of his need for food. JC went over and picked him up, then looked at Annie. "Should I change him first?"

She nodded. "I can’t wait to see this."

JC put on his pouty face. "Hey, I’ve been practicing."

"Then go for it."

He got out the supplies and started changing his son. He was almost halfway through when Annie spoke up. "Remember what they told us about boys."

Her warning came too late, for no sooner had the words left her mouth; William peed in JC’s face. He leapt back in surprise while Annie and Lance both began to laugh hysterically. Annie was soon holding her stomach, although a few stray giggles still erupted past her lips. "Please stop. It hurts too much to laugh."

JC wiped his face and took a little bow. "And now, for my next performance. He finished changing William without further incident and handed him to Annie.

Lance stood nervously, handing Claudine back to JC. "I, uh…maybe I should be going now."

Annie, however, wouldn’t hear of it. "Oh no, stay. JC get me the blanket, please." He handed it to her. "Lance, close your eyes for a moment." He did so, waiting while he heard the shuffling of fabric. Finally, he heard her voice again. "Okay you can open your eyes now."

Annie was covered by the blanket. Except for the quiet sucking sounds, you wouldn’t have known what was going on.

After several more minutes of idle chat and continued congratulations. Lance decided to take his leave. "I think I’ll go home and get some sleep. Besides, you two are probably really tired and need some rest as well."

He walked over to the door, then looked back at them over his shoulder. "Thanks for letting me share in this. I’ll see you later."

With that said, Lance was gone."

Paris - Chapter Four


FLASHBACK CONTINUED


Annie burst through the door, a huge smile lighting her face. ("Claude, Jacques! I got it! I got it!")

JC was still at the kitchen table, studying the pictures Claude had shown him. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, but the woman’s sudden arrival startled him. He dropped the picture he’d been holding.

"Oh." She stopped abruptly in her tracks. After regained her composure, she smiled at him. ("Pardon me, but what are you doing here?")

JC shook his head. I’m sorry, I don’t speak French." Under his breath, he added "Really wish, I’d taken it in high school now."

Jacques entered from the front. He’d been helping a few tourists who had ended up leaving without buying anything. "Need help, JC?"

"Yes." JC rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I don’t understand what she’s saying. Can you help me?"

"Sure." Jacques turned to Annie and slipped into French seamlessly. ("How’d it go?")

("I got the job! He told me I could start Monday.") Her earlier excitement returned in a rush, then just as quickly subsided. ("Now, could you please explain to me why there’s a gorgeous young man sitting at your kitchen table?")

("He asked to stay, so Grandpa told him stories about the war.")

A grin appeared on Annie’s face. ("How’d he take it?") She asked, nodding her head towards JC.

Jacques couldn’t hold back a little smirk. ("He cried like a baby.")

Her face turned serious. ("How’s Claude?")

("He’s resting.") Jacques sighed. ("You know how talking about his life with Grandmere always tires him out. Each time, it seems to take him longer to recover. I worry about him.")

("So, do I, but he needs to talk.")

He nodded. ("I know.")

"Excuse me." Both of them turned towards JC seemingly surprised to see him sitting there. "Would you like me to go into another room?"

"Oh, I’m sorry," Jacques apologized. "That was very rude of us. We shouldn’t have been ignoring you. You are our guest, after all."

JC finally saw an opportunity to ask a question that had been nagging him since the café. "Jacques, would you please introduce me?"

"Certainly." He waited until JC got up from the chair, then continued. "Joshua Chasez, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Annie O’Reilly. Annie - Joshua."

Annie held out her hand to JC. As he touched it, he felt a spark of electricity that certainly wasn’t static in nature. Her hand was warm and soft but possessed a strength. JC drew her hand to his lip and lightly brushed it with a kiss. "Pleased and charmed to meet you, Annie."

"Merci." She replied, blushing as she withdrew her hand from his. ‘He is so charming. ’ Annie thought. ‘I wonder where this is going to go? I’ve never felt like this before. It was all I could do to concentrate at my interview with Mr. Basille’s since my mind kept wandering back to those soulful azure eyes and that beautiful smile. It’s so genuine, with a hint of shyness. Plus, the rest of his body isn't bad either’. Annie suddenly realized the direction her thoughts were taking and shook her head a little. ‘Focus Annie, focus! You’re acting like a teenager mooning over her first crush. Concentrate!’

Annie turned her attention to Jacques. ("Jacques, would you mind translating for me?")

He shook his head. ("Annie, how much longer are you going to keep this thing up?")

("Just a little longer – it adds intrigue to the mix.") She winked at him. ("Besides, we said we were going to give him a ‘memorable French experience’, remember?")

("All right, if you’re sure you know what you are doing. I’ll go along with it, but be careful. He seems like such a nice young man; I would hate to see him hurt. Also, Grandpere likes him.")

Annie rolled her eyes. ("Okay, okay.")

Jacques was beginning to get exasperated. ("For crying out loud Annie, you speak five different languages! Cut him a break.")

She held one hand up, gently breaking off his frustration - fueled outburst. ("Tell you what – suggest that he and his friends join us for dinner at Pepe’s. That guy owes me a favor anyway and this seems like as good a time as any to use it. It’ll be our treat, plus it’ll be a celebration of my new job. Then
I’ll tell him afterwards. Agreed?")

Jacques nodded; knowing it was the best he would get out of her. ("Agreed.")

He faced JC once again, transitioning back into English. "JC; Annie, Grandpere and I would be honored if you and your friends would care to join us for dinner tonight at Pepe’s. Our treat, because we’re celebrating Annie’s new job. Can you make it?"

JC’s eyebrows knit together in thought. "Are you sure you want everyone? There’s five of us plus two translators, not to mention that two of the guys have their moms along with them."

"No problem; the more the merrier."

"Well, if they agree, it’s fine with me." JC cleared his throat. "Is it okay if I ask Annie some questions?"

Unfortunately for JC, the clock chimed 5 o’clock and almost as if on cue, the bell of the shop’s front door rang. Joey’s voice came in from the front. "JC, you here?"

JC sighed, then walked through the kitchen door to the main part of the store, where he was practically assaulted by the guys as they rushed in. "Did you meet her?" "What’s she like?" Everyone was speaking at once, making it hard to make out who was saying what.

Jacques and Annie came out from the kitchen, causing Justin and Chris to have the same reaction that the others had done earlier.

"Close your mouths, boys," Lynn scolded, tapping Justin’s jaw to emphasize her point. "You’re drawing flies."

JC turned so he could see everyone. "Listen, Jacques, Claude and Annie have invited us to dinner at a little café nearby to celebrate Annie’s new job. Can we go? Please?" His tone took on that of a small child who wants just one more cookie before going to bed.

Diane shook her head, smiling. "How can we turn down such a generous invitation, especially when coupled with a face like that? Of course, we accept. Where; at what time?"

Jacques stepped in. "Pepe’s at seven; it’s just around the corner on Canal Street. We’ll see you there."

"We’ll go get ready." Lynn stepped forward. "Any special clothing requirements?"

"No, just be neat and clean. It’ll be a private party."

She nodded. "Okay guys, let’s go. Lynn began herding them all towards the van, then turned back. "We’ll see you at seven." Once everyone finally got settled in the van, they left.

Once they were gone, Annie threw her arms around Jacques. "Thank you, thank you and thank you."

He grinned hugging her back. "Annie, with all my heart, I hope that this evening is everything you hope it to be."

"So do I Jacques. So do I."

Paris - Chapter Five


FLASHBACK

Claude, Jacques and Annie arrived at the café first.
Annie was in the kitchen talking to Pepe when she
heard the front door open and the guys filing in. Out
in the dining room area, everyone was looking around
the restaurant in silent wonder.

The floor was unremarkable, light hardwood that seemed
slightly worn, especially around the entrance and the
kitchen. The walls were completely made of plaster,
with white crown molding along the top by the ceiling
and white woodwork with pink accents placed over top
the bottom half. The rest of the uncovered plaster had
been painted a light, airy green akin to the color of
a tree frog’s skin. Water color paintings done by
local artists hung on the walls, with a sign by the
door that tactfully pointed out that this was a
restaurant, not an art gallery and that under NO
circumstances were the paintings for sale.

Tall windows made up of several smaller panes graced
the outside walls of the café. Gauzy, see-through
curtains allowed natural light inside, but at the same
time offered a significant privacy factor for those
dining inside. Heavier, darker ones hung on the sides
and could be closed for seclusion. Lighting inside was
provided by several lamp scones protruding out from
the wall. Beneath the small lamp shades on each one
could be seen flame-shaped light bulbs, creating
slight, diffused lighting throughout the entire café.

A large round table with enough seating for twelve,
obviously reserved for special occasions, stood in the
center. It was covered with a crisp, white tablecloth,
with flowers floating in brandy snuffers and a few lit
candles. Several smaller tables, only designed with
two to four people in mind, were scattered around the
rest of the dining area. A small dance floor and
orchestra area were off to the left of the entrance,
while a tiny greeting area with desk was the first
thing visitors caught sight of.


Annie stepped out of the kitchen into the dining room
through a door opposite the front entrance. Her hair
was haphazardly piled on top of her head, making her
look incredibly sexy. Her clothes consisted of a pink
cashmere sweater, pencil thin black pants and blacks
flats on her feet. The same filigree cross was at her
neck, which only served to draw an observer’s
attention to her face, slightly flushed from the heat
of the kitchen.

She walked over and stood beside Claude and Jacques,
who had been helping put some final touches on the
center table. As introductions were made all around,
Annie shook each of their hands warmly.

When she got to JC, Annie took hold of his hand and
then leaned forward to gently kiss his cheek.
"Bonjour, mon ami Josh."

This created an instant blush to start across his
face, while also causing the whole group to go
momentarily speechless. Note the "momentary" part.

"Way to go, JC." Chris leaned forward and nudged him
with his elbow, grinning wickedly. "Very smooth."

Somehow, JC managed to get redder. "Quiet," he hissed,
secretly praying that fate would decide to call an end
to "Embarrass the Living Bejezus Out of JC" day.

Fate must have decided to give it a brief
consideration, for at that moment Pepe, the owner of
the café, came out from the kitchen. He bowed
cordially before speaking. "Dinner is nearly ready, my
friends. Please." He motioned towards the large table.
"Be seated. The appetizers will be out momentarily."

Everyone filed into their seats, JC making doubly sure
to get a seat next to Annie. Once everyone was
settled, Pepe addressed them again. "Everyone, I am
please to have you in my humble establishment. Your
fare tonight will consist of traditional country
French Cuisine. Not excessively fancy, but delicious
and filling. I hope that you shall enjoy your meal.
Bon Appetite."

Platters of appetizers were brought forward and
arranged on the table. They consisted of shrimp,
mushrooms, veggies and the Ultimata of all French
food: Escargot or, to be more precise, snails.

Claude called for everyone’s attention. "Before we
begin, I will say the blessing." They all bowed their
heads and waited patiently. When he had finished, a
unified "Amen" went up and the party dug in.

The guys, who were accustomed to burgers and fires,
were having a ball trying everything. Everything, that
is, except the snails. Chris and Joey, for some
reason, began reverting to little-kid mode. The former
made the first move.

"You try it." He offered, holding up one of the
mollusks.

Joey, who for some reason was not feeling nearly so
adventurous anymore, shook his head and pushed it back
towards Chris. "No, you try it."

Chris glanced at the snail, made a face and forced it
back into Joey’s face. "I dare you."

Joey smiled, accepting the challenge. "I dog dare
you."

"I double dog dare you."

"I triple dog dare you." Joey then leaned back,
smiling. There was nothing higher than a triple dog
dare, which meant Chris would have to eat it himself.

Fortune, a close friend of Fate, decided to smile on
Chris, for Annie chose that moment to step in. ("Isn’t
anyone going to try the escargot?")

Chris, already nervous enough about the snail he was
now holding, turned to her voice. "What’d she say?"

Francesca laughed. "She wants to know if anyone is
brave enough to try the snails."

Joey held up one finger. "Tell her we were just
discussing that."

JC took a deep breath. "I will." This caused Chris to
breathe an audible sigh of relief as he placed the
snail back down on his plate.

Annie selected a snail from the main plate. She gently
pulled it out of its shell and dipped it in butter,
then held it out towards JC. He went to take the fork
from her, but she intercepted his hand, ("No, I will
feed it to you.")

Francesca translated automatically. "She wants to feed
it to you."

JC swallowed. "Okay."

Her eyes never leaving his, Annie placed the snail in
his mouth. He bit down, tasting a salty flavor and
being pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t slimy as
he’d imagined.

("Good?") She smiled softy, raising one eyebrow
slightly to convey her word.

It was enough, because JC nodded. "Yes."

("More?") She picked up another snail, motioning it
towards his mouth.

Again, he nodded. "Yes, please."

Annie fed him three more, while Chris and Joey
continued staring in disbelief.

Chris stuck out his tongue. "I think that’s about the
grossest thing I’ve ever seen."

Joey indicated his assent. "Yeah, it’s pretty
disgusting all right."

"How can he eat snails so casually like that?"

"Snails?" Joey gave him a confused look. "I was
talking about the fact that JC’s getting fed by a
gorgeous woman that I saw first."

The romantic bubble Annie and JC had blown was popped
when Pepe brought in the main course. It consisted of
roasted potatoes, grilled vegetables and roasted
chickens. Everyone ate until they were stuffed, at
which point Pepe returned with coffee and dessert.

Justin groaned. "We can’t possibly eat another bite."

Pepe smiled at him. "We have a tradition here at
Pepe’s. No one gets dessert unless they earn it." He
passed his smile around the rest of the table.

"You’ve heard the expression "sing for your supper?"
Well here, you must sing, dance; tell a joke, whatever
you wish, before you’re allowed dessert. Besides, it
will give your dinner a little time to settle.
Agreed?"

Everyone at the table nodded their consent.

Claude stood, clearing his throat. ("Before we begin,
I would like to say a few words.") Jeannette and
Francesca quietly translated for everyone who didn’t
know French. ("The reason we are here tonight is to
celebrate Annie’s new job. She has worked towards this
for a long time. Both her skill and her determination
make me as proud of her as if she were my own
granddaughter.")

("I am also please to have had the privilege to meet
these five young Americans. I strongly believe that
nothing happens in life without a purpose, although it
can sometimes take years to discern exactly what that
reason is.")

He turned slightly so he was facing JC, slipping into
English. "However, I do know this; your meeting Annie
this morning was special, almost as it if were
foretold. Today was the first time Annie has ever
arrived late to my shop."

Claude refocused his attention on Annie, transitioning
back into French. ("Annie, I have a gift for you.
Please accept it with all my love.")

She took the small box he gave her. It was wrapped in
copper colored foil-like paper with a simple white bow
on top. When she opened it, her breath caught in her
throat for a moment. Then the tears began. ("I can’t.
I’m not worthy. Why?")

JC leaned over for a better look. It was the locket
Claude had given to Marie, the same one he himself had
only glanced at earlier that day. Now that it was a
little closer, he saw it was a gold, oval locket on a
golden chain. The back was plain, but there seemed to
be something written on the front. Unfortunately, JC
couldn’t see what it said, or even if it was in
English.

Claude smiled at Annie, patting her cheek. ("I can’t
think of anyone else in the world who deserves this
more. As I said earlier, you’re like the granddaughter
I never had.")

Annie’s hands were trembling as she undid the clasp.
She went to put it on, but her hands were shaking so
badly she could hardly hold it still. Finally, JC
reached over, taking it from her and placing it around
her neck. She smiled at him through her tears.

JC smiled gently at her, while at the same time
feeling a bit self conscious that the translators had
to interpret his every single word to her. "It’s
perfect. Claude is right. It looks beautiful on you
and belongs on you."

She stood and threw her arms around Claude’s neck in a
large hug. ("I will cherish this forever. It will
become as special to me as my cross.") She kissed his
cheek. ("Thank you.")

Claude returned her hug for a few moments, then
cleared his throat and returned to English. "Okay, let
the entertainment begin before we all get too
maudlin."

Diane and Lynn got up and told some horrible
knock-knock jokes. Then Francesca and Jeannette sang a
traditional French folk song. Claude and Jacques
followed up, the former singing a lullaby and the
latter accompanying him on the acoustic guitar.
Halfway through, Claude’s voice cracked and became
choked with emotion. Annie went to him and, taking his
hand in her own, helped him finish the song. Her
singing voice was that of a lilting soprano.

When it was over, she turned to the guys. ("Okay, it’s
your turn.")

After a brief discussion and working out of harmonies,
they went up to the small stage and sang "Somewhere
over the Rainbow" in accapella. Throughout the whole
song, Annie remained transfixed. The harmonies,
despite being created on the spot, were tight and the
sound was so pure! She got the feeling this group of
young men were destined for great things in their
lives.

When they sat back down at the table, Joey turned to
Annie. "Okay, now it’s your turn." Jeannette stepped
in to do her job.

("But I already sang with Claude!") She protested,
giving him a look of disbelief.

"No, that was only half a song."

"Please?" Joey tried giving her puppy eyes, which he
wasn’t exactly very good at.

It must have been enough though, because she laughed
and got to her feet.

("Alright. I’ll play the piano for you all.") She
walked over to said instrument and sat down. ("Would
you all like it fast or slow?")

Justin was the quickest on the draw. "Fast. It’s
getting way too somber in here."

Annie nodded, then began to play slowly. She had
chosen a Hungarian Rhapsody, which started off softy
but built to a fiery conclusion. Her fingers danced
over the keys as she played, her feet moved with the
speed of a tap dancer as she lightly touched the
pedals. The song slowly began to build, expressing raw
emotion and strength almost palpable to the touch.
Then, all the tension was released at once, as the
song needed thunderously.

Everyone leapt to their feet, applauding and cheering.
They showered her with praise as she returned to her
seat, the translators interpreting and adding their
own compliments in as well.

Pepe nodded, obviously pleased with all the
performances. "You may have dessert now, if you wish."
He and a few members of the staff went to the stage
and began playing some light jazz. Instead of eating,
everyone decided to dance. Lance and Justin danced
with their mothers, while Chris and Joey took
Jeannette and Francesca, respectively. Jacques decided
to sit in on the guitar, while Annie asked Claude to
dance. This left poor JC without a partner, so he sat
at the table and quietly watched.

After a few moments, Claude motioned him over to where
he and Annie were. "Josh, will you finish this dance
with Annie? I’m feeling a little tired." Indeed, he
looked at bit worn out.

("Claude, are you all right?") Annie held on to his
arm, concerned.

He gently shook her off. ("I’m fine. Dance with
Josh.")

JC put one arm around her waist, then took her other
hand in his and drew it to his chest. Finally, she was
here, in his arms. So close, her perfume was
enveloping him. He felt her breath on his cheek and
silently prayed that his body wouldn’t betray him. He
didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. ‘Although’, he
thought, then caught himself. ‘No! Focus JC – think of
Chris and Joey in the morning.’ He let out a tiny
sigh. ‘Okay, that’s better now.’

They both continued to dance slowly, savoring every
moment, oblivious to their surroundings. So much, in
fact, that they both jumped when Lance came over and
tapped JC on the shoulder. "Hey, the music stopped
five minutes ago." He gave JC an apologetic look. "I
hate to have to do this to you, but we have to get
going."

JC sighed. "Yeah, I know." He released Annie and
joined the others in saying good-byes. Afterwards
Claude, Pepe, Jacques and the rest of the staff went
into the kitchen while the guys and their entourage
headed for the door.

JC went over to Annie, taking her hands in his. If
only I could speak, French! He thought, frustrated
beyond, well words, actually. There was so much he
wanted to tell her.

She smiled at him. "Josh, thank you for a lovely
evening. I’ll never forget it, as I believe it has
changed both our lives."

JC swore he could feel his jaw hit the floor, and he
was fairly sure his eyes were as big as cartoon saucer
plates. At least, that’s how they felt. "What?"

Annie laughed lightly. "I said, thank you for.."

He shook his head – had a miracle occurred? He could
understand every word she was saying. Maybe he was
hallucinating. He’d only had one glass of wine with
dinner. "You speak English?"

"I never said that I couldn’t. Joey simply assumed
that, plus I never thought I’d see any of you again
and figured I’d just play along with it. Then you
showed up at Claude’s and it kind of spiraled out of
control. Jacques made me promise to tell you before
the night was over, then I got the idea to give you a
memorable French experience." She looked down, then
back at him, giving him her best "I’m so sorry" look.
"I apologize for deceiving you. Can you forgive me?"

JC laughed. "Of course. It actually was pretty funny
watching the world’s "Greatest Flirt" stopped dead in
his tracks because of a language barrier. Besides, it
added an air of mystery to the day."

Annie’s face turned serious. "Josh, thank you; for
making Claude so happy. Most people don’t care to
listen to this stories."

JC sobered as well. "I was happy to. I learned a great
deal, and not just about the war." He paused. "Well"

"Well."

"I gotta go."

"I know."

"May I kiss you?"

The question caught her by surprise, but only for a
moment. "Yes."

JC gently lifted her chin with his fingertips, kissing
her softy on the lips. Both of them got a fluttery
feeling in the pit of their stomachs, and it had
nothing to do with anything they’d eaten that evening.
After a few moments, he broke it off. "Well."

"Well."

"I gotta go."

"I know."

"So, does this conclude the memorable French
experience you had planned?"

Annie smiled softly. "Not quite. You can only end a
French date with this – a French kiss." She placed her
palms on either side of his face and gently dated her
tongue into his mouth, their tips barely touching. It
was a soft kiss, not the tonsil hockey, tongue fencing
ones commonly portrayed in romance novels and
expressed by high school teenagers.

When it ended, JC felt breathless. "Oh my!"

Annie’s smile was still on her face. "Agreed."

He leaned towards her a second time, the taste of her
mouth still lingering in his like a delicate dessert.

"JC!" Chris was yelling for him at the door. "Come on!
We have to go!"

JC closed his eyes, feeling the last bit of her fade
from his lips. "I gotta go."

She nodded. "I know."

They walked over to the table where JC retrieved his
jacket before turning to her. "Address, phone,
something, anything!"

"Here, you can have one of my cards." Annie grinned at
him sheepishly, glancing down. "I was so happy after
the interview, I went straight out and had a few of
them made on the spot." The card had her home address
and phone number. "What about you?"

"I’m not sure where we’re going yet. I’ll send you the
address as soon as I know, and I’ll write you every
day. I have so many questions. I want to know
everything about you."

"Bye Josh, mon ami."

"Bye Annie." JC had to turn to make sure he didn’t get
delayed any longer, mostly because he didn’t want the
other guys butting in. As he got in the van and closed
the door, he suddenly found himself surrounded by all
four of them.

"Did you kiss her?" Justin was leaning forward
expectantly; one of his legs twitching like a dog
getting the sweet spot on its ear scratched.

"Details man!" Joey seemed like he was going to
explode if he was kept out of the loop for any longer.

JC shook his head. "Listen Justin, I would never kiss
and tell that would be one of the worst betrayals." He
leaned back in his seat, intending to maybe get in a
quick nap on the way back to the hotel before he
remembered something.

"Oh Joey? She speaks perfect English."

With that, JC closed his eyes, allowing a sly smile to
spread across his face, leaving Joey bewildered and
feeling, if possible, even more confused than before.

Paris - Chapter Six


Flashback continues 1996- early 1998

Naturally, JC was true to his word. Two days following
the dinner at Pepe’s, a letter arrived. It was
addressed to Annie in JC’s scrawling hand, so she
immediately tore open the envelope. The letter stated
that the guys were in Stockholm and were soon headed
towards Germany. After the travel plans, dozens of
questions littered the page. After reading them all,
she shook her head and smiled, then started to work on
her reply.

Dear Josh,
I received your letter today. Although it sounds more
like a job application, I will try to answer the
questions as best I can. To avoid confusion, I’ll put
titles before each answer.

Birthday: 17 July 1975 (which makes me - 21)

Birthplace: Nashville, Tennessee

Parents: William John and Marie Christina O’Reilly.

How they met and what they do: Daddy is an engine
builder for NASCAR (more specifically, Darrell
Waltrip’s team). Mom is a writer and illustrator of
children’s books. They first met at a college dance.
To make a long story short at the risk of making it
cliched, it was love at first sight. However, seeing
how Mom is Cuban and Daddy is Irish, it took a while
longer for the families to accept it. Eventually love
won out and they got married after which they moved to
Tennessee where they’re still living today.

Brothers & sisters: I have none. I’m a spoiled rotten
only child. Only kidding??

School: I went to public school for awhile, but it was
hard with Daddy on the road so often and such.
Eventually they just started home-schooling me
instead, so I managed to finish in record time. I then
went to the University of Tennessee, where I got a
scholarship my senior year to study in Paris. The
school extended it to cover the first year of my
Master’s degree, but eventually funds ran out and,
naturally, I had to get a job. It covers my tuition
and books, so there’s no worry about that. Currently,
I’m working on getting a Master’s in Fine Arts. I have
always loved to paint and have been told that I have
the unique ability to capture the inner person. That I
can see someone as they really are (not "twilight
zone" kind of see, more like insight.) But lately,
I’ve been drawn to sculpting. I’m not exactly sure
why, so I’m taking a few classes, to see where it
leads.

Pets: I had a dog while growing up. He was a Sheltie
named "Champ" and was my constant companion all
throughout my childhood until I graduated from high
school. Then he got really sick and we had to take him
to the vet to be put down. I remember the look he gave
me as he fell asleep. It seemed like he was saying
"Thank you." I loved him dearly. At my flat here in
Paris, I have a black cat named "Rosemarie". She got
her name because when I brought her home, the Simon
and Garfunkel song "Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme"
was playing on the radio.

Languages: Ahh, not looking forward to any more
surprises? Just kidding I speak five – English
(obviously), French (also obviously), German, Italian
and Spanish.

Claude and Jacques: Jacques and I were in a class
together. He brought me home to have dinner one night.
Which was where I met Claude. I started going once a
week and now have dinner or some other meal there at
least once a day. I also try and help Claude out in
the shop when Jacques has classes.

God: I believe strongly that there is one and have
committed myself to Him.

The letter continued on in a similar manner for nearly
12 pages. Finally, she realized that she’d better
stop, or at least get a publishing deal for her
autobiography before it was too late.

JC, it is going to cost me a fortune to mail this
"novel" to you. I anxiously await your next letter.
Love,
Annie

Whenever he had a day off, and was close to Paris, JC
would come to visit. Of course, this wasn’t very
often, so they treasured the time they got to spend
together.

One rainy afternoon JC showed up at her door with
flowers and a poem he had written. Just as he went to
knock on her door, he felt as if someone was staring
at him from behind. He turned to see a young woman
standing at the flat door near Annie’s.

She was what could safely considered the French
version of a true Goth. Her black hair was very, very
long and shiny, with streaks of blue dye here and
there. She was dressed entirely in black, her skirt
flowing to the floor and swirling around her feet like
a dark cloud. Her dark eyes seemed almost sinister
with all the mascara and eye shadow she wore on them,
matching her black lipstick but contrasting harshly
with her pale skin. A silver ankh hung from a chain
around her neck, the only accessories she wore.

She eyed him as she took a puff from a clove
cigarette, lightly playing with a piece of her hair.
"You, Annie’s lover?"

JC was positive he’d heard her wrong. "Excuse me?"

She smiled in a truly ghastly manner. I’ll slow it
down for you. "I said are….. you….. Annie’s….. lover?"

Okay, so he’d been right. "No, just a friend."

This seemed to cheer the Goth up, if such a thing is
possible. "So, you’re free?"

JC felt like he was missing something very important.
No, I’m Annie’s friend."

Luckily for JC, Annie chose that particular moment to
open her door.

He turned to her, a smile of relief spreading across
his face. "Thank you, I’m saved."

She gave him a confused look that strangely conveyed
exactly what JC was feeling at that particular moment.
"What’s going on here?"

An embarrassed look came over his face. "She keeps
asking me if I am your lover?" He whispered.

Annie rolled her eyes, letting out a half
–exasperated, half-pitiful sigh, then turned to the
woman. "Babette, I would like to introduce to you my
dear FRIEND Josh. Josh – Babette."

JC extended his hand and shook hers, trying to avoid
getting stabbed with her long fingernails without
appearing to do so. This close to her, he could smell
not only the cigarette, but also the excessive smell
of incense. After what he felt was a polite period of
time to shake, JC tried to retrieve his hand. Babette
refused to let go and the harder he tried to pull
away, the tighter her grip became.

Finally, Annie intervened and pried the two of them
apart. Still holding the Goth’s hand by the back, she
looked her in the eye. "Babette, I think it is time
for us to go. Maybe we can visit another day?"

Babette ripped her hand away, staring at Annie coldly,
then slowly backed into her flat before slamming the
door shut in a final statement to the world.

Annie sighed, then led JC inside her own flat. Once
the door was safely closed behind them he turned to
her. "Who and what was that?"

"That was Babette. She’s fairly harmless. She’s more
of a danger to herself than others." Annie sighed.
"She was involved in a very BAD relationship. He was
physically and emotionally abusive to her, which is
when she started wearing all the black clothes and
make-up; to hide the bruises. About 6 months ago, they
had a huge fight and the police were called in. When
they took him away to prison, I guess something inside
of her just snapped. From what I understand, she used
to be a very talented artist herself at one point. Now
all she does is spend most of her days in her flat –
painting pictures that no one ever sees and crying. I
think she still has some hope though, since she flirts
with Jacques every time he shows up."

JC shook his head. "That’s so tragic."

"I know – but in many ways it’s just another romantic
Paris tragedy. I live in the "perfect Paris loft"
complete with a crazy woman down the hall." She
glanced at him, suddenly ashamed. "Sorry. I don’t mean
to make light of it, but sometimes, after you’ve seen
the same thing so often, you just kind of grow numb to
it. Lately, she has been a bit more delusional. I may
have to report her, for her own good." Annie shook
herself from the line of unpleasant thoughts, then
smiled at him warmly. "So, how have you been?"

"Good" A devilish little grin spread across his face.

"I’ll even show you." He stepped forward and pulled
her close, then dipped her a little bit and kissed
her. After letting her up, he handed the flowers to
her. "These are for you."

She took them from him. "They’re lovely. Let me put
them in water."

While Annie was hunting for a vase, JC finally had
time to take a look at her flat. The front door opened
into her living room, the majority of which was on his
left. Annie had gone towards the right, which was
where the kitchen was. The walls throughout the entire
flat were white, with a beige floor runner going all
along the edges. The carpet was also beige and spread
in every room except the kitchen and bathroom, both of
which had beige and white patterned tiles. He realized
that the color scheme, while maybe a little on the
boring side, did make the room feel light and airy, a
good atmosphere for an artist. Her furniture was an
eclectic mix of European styles, obviously whatever
she had been able to find. Not everything matched
perfectly (some things didn’t match at all) but it was
still pretty to look at.

But the walls. JC found himself amazed and completely
engrossed by the walls. Obviously, several artists had
lived there before, because there were paintings and
drawings all over the walls. Fortunately, whoever had
moved in after the first one had decided to keep up
some sort of order, because each room seemed to have a
theme. The living room had various types of animals
scattered around, while the kitchen (where Annie was
still searching in vain for a vase) had multiple
scenarios. The hallway, the door of which was at the
wall opposite the front door, was filled with doodles
and sketches.

JC passed by the first door on his right, which was
closed. He’d get it on his way back. Poking his head
into the bathroom, first door on the left, he was not
disappointed to see a variety of water paintings. The
second (and last) door on the left was Annie’s
bedroom. It surprised him, because the walls had a
menagerie of abstract works scattered so close
together, it was sometimes hard to see where one
stopped and the next began. He was about to enter, but
then thought of what it would look like if Annie found
him there. Not only, would it be a little rude, it
would also be seriously embarrassing. Going back
towards the living room, JC poked his head into the
room he’d previously passed up. What he saw in there
so captivated him that he found himself being pulled
inside to see more.

This was quite obviously Annie’s art room. It was
bigger than her bedroom and seemed to stand out more
than any other room in her flat. It wasn’t due to the
walls. The ones in here were completely blank,
absolutely nothing on them whatsoever. A huge loft
window with a rounded top faced the street, pouring
natural light into the room. It had its own window
seat, upon which a little black cat was currently
lying, staring down at the cars below. But this wasn’t
what had captured his attention so completely.

That honor belonged to her paintings. Every single one
he could see was of him. They were done in multiple
styles and some of them looked a little creepy, but
there was no doubt as to the identity of the man in
each one, it was him. He must have been standing there
in dumbfounded amazement for a while, because he
didn’t even notice Annie until she was right next to
him.

She smiled at him. "So what do you think?’

"I’m speechless, he managed to say. What is all this?"

"I was experimenting with a new type of paint and,
since you are a subject I love to use, l did."

JC studied a Picasso rendition of his face. "Do I
really look like this?"

Annie giggled. "Well you know, you do have a classic
face in the Greek sense, but your nose is a little too
big for your face."

He stuck his tongue out at her. "Thanks a lot, I’m
crushed."

She put a hand under her chin as she stared at him in
thought. "You know, I was thinking if you let your
hair grow a bit longer-"

"It curls."

"It would soften your features. And who knows; maybe
you still have time to grow into your face."

"Okay, enough already!" JC shook his head. "I didn’t
come here to have my face critiqued."

"Alright then." Annie folded her arms over her chest.
"What did you come here for?"

He grinned wickedly as he walked over to her. "This."
And he kissed her again.

When the kiss ended, Annie smiled. "Nice appetizer.
How about lunch?"

"Sounds like a plan to me."

They walked into the living room where Annie had a
tablecloth spread out on the floor. They had been
planning to go on a picnic so naturally it was pouring
– typical Paris weather. Not to be discouraged, they
sat down and ate the lunch safely inside. Afterwards,
JC read her the poem he’d written and brought with
him. It made her cry.

Later on, JC was lying with his head on Annie’s lap as
she was feeding him grapes. He reached up and drew her
down to him, kissing her gently at first, but then
with more passion. His hand, almost of its own accord,
went straight to her blouse and began undoing the
buttons.

Annie grabbed that hand right where it was. "Hold it
right there." She straightened up, letting go of his
hand. "We made a promise, remember?"

JC gave her a hurt look. "I know, but I just want to
look. He gave her his best puppy-dog look. "I promise
I won’t touch."

"No way, although you get kudos for the big eyes. It’s
not really you, but myself I don’t trust. And you know
how much I hate it when people break promises."

"Yeah" he muttered dejectedly, playing with the
tablecloth.

"I know it seems silly but I made a vow that I
wouldn’t have sex till I was married. Most people
probably think I’m insane, or at least horribly
old-fashioned, but it’s a gift I’m going to give to
the person I love. I can only give it once, and I
don’t want to make a mistake." She laughed a little to
take some of the sting out of her words. "Besides, I’m
pretty sure something like virginity has a no-return
policy."

JC looked up from the floor and smiled back. "I’m
sorry. I agree with you, it‘s just that sometimes I
get carried away." His smile grew a little wider.
"Imagine how much some people would laugh if they knew
I made that same vow and for the same reason."

Annie messed up his hair a little. "You’re so sweet.
Now let’s think of something more productive to do."
She seemed lost in thought for a brief moment, and
then her eyes lit up. "I know, we can listen to the
music Claude sent over."

She lithely jumped to her feet and got the CD from the
kitchen where she’d placed it on the table. Coming
back, she popped it into the stereo,

As she was getting ready, she turned to him. "This is
music that Claude and Marie liked to listen and dance
to. Jacques had a friend burn the CD for him."

She went over and took his hands, pulling him to his
feet. "Now, here’s what I want you to do." She led him
over to the couch, which was by the stereo. "I want
you to sit on the sofa and close your eyes. You can’t
open them until the song is over, but I want you to
just sit still and listen. Be warned in advance, it’s
an Italian aria."

"But I won’t understand it!" JC protested, even as he
sat there with his eyes closed.

"Yes you will. Just listen to the words, phrasing and
the emotion with which the singer is singing. You’ll
get it."

Annie started the music, then sat cross-legged next to
him. She studied his face and saw that indeed, he did
understand. He knew – even if he didn’t fully
understand. When it was over, she leaned close to him.
"I’m going to play it again." She spoke quietly. But
this time, I’ll whisper the translation in your ear."

As the song played a second time and she interpreted,
she also kept studying JC’s face. A look of amazement
came over his face. When the song was over again, he
opened his eyes and looked at her. "You were right. I
could understand."

"I know." She touched his face. "You have an artist’s
soul."

They were both quiet for a while, then JC cleared his
throat. "Annie?"

"Yes?"

"We’re leaving for a Far East and African tour in a
week or so. I won’t be able to see you for a long
time." He looked deep into her eyes. "I’m going to
miss you so much."

Annie shook her head and rubbed the back of his neck.
"We both knew this day would come. If it’s meant to
be, it’ll work out alright. I’m just so happy that
things are finally starting to click for you." She
smiled and put a finger to his lips. "And before you
even say it, I think the idea of you giving it up to
stay here with me is stupid. I know I couldn’t live a
life full of "what ifs" or should haves." She studied
his face. "I don’t think you could either."

JC stared at her in amazement. "How did you get to be
so wise?"

Annie grinned. "That would be Claude’s doing."

They spent the rest of the day wrapped in each other’s
arms, listening to the music. When it was time to go,
she walked him to the door. As they kissed in the
hallway, JC promised that he’d be back next week for a
final, but by no means permanent, goodbye. Then he
leaned over and whispered that when they made love for
the first time, it would be to that CD.

As they finished their good-byes, neither one saw
Babette listening from her cracked-open flat door. Nor
the shadowy figure behind her, watching the scene with
a clenched fist and tears streaming to the floor.

Paris - Chapter Seven


One week later…

JC bounded up the stairs to Annie’s flat, whistling
tunelessly. He’d received a message at the hotel that
she’d been let out of work early and they should meet
at her place around 1:00. With him, JC carried a large
bouquet of wildflowers and a gold bracelet he’d bought
for her in Ireland. He paused on his way up to study
it some more. Looking at it, he sighed; he was so
pleased with it. It had both their names entwined
within two hearts. JC truly hoped that she’d love it
as much as he did. Although they were still young, he
wanted to give her something that would reflect his
love for her and hers for him.

JC practically skipped the rest of the way to Annie’s
door and knocked on it. No answer, so he knocked
again. Still no answer, but he could hear Rosemarie
meowing on the other side. ‘That’s a little strange’,
he thought. ‘Oh well, maybe she got held up at work or
something.’ He had just settled on the floor to wait
for her when he heard something strange. Actually, the
sound itself wasn’t that odd, it was just someone
softly whispering his name. The fact that it seemed to
be coming from nowhere was what was disturbing him.

Glancing up (he’d been studying the bracelet again),
JC was slightly surprised to see that Babette’s door
was slightly open. Whoever was calling his name, they
were inside her flat. He left the flowers by Annie’s
door, but put the bracelet in his pocket as he stood
and slowly started towards the voice. "Babette?" he
called softly as he opened the door a little wider.
"Are you in here?"

Hearing no answer, JC ventured another step inside.
That was about the time something smashed into the
back of his head. Crashing to the floor, JC tried to
focus on something, but everything was so dark inside
the flat. So dark…

The last thing he remembered hearing was a door slam
shut before the world fell in on itself.

One hour later…

Annie raced up the stairs to her flat, unknowingly
following the exact same course JC had taken
previously. She did know that she was expecting him to
be there any moment and couldn’t wait to see him.
She’d practically run the whole way home, she was so
excited. It was going to be the last time they’d get
to see each other for who knew how long and she wanted
to squeeze every minute of cuddle time in that she
could manage.

In her purse was a small picture in a silver frame.
The picture itself was actually a little portrait of
JC she had painted just the other day. Done in a
realistic style, Annie felt it was her best effort and
really reflected JC’s personality. She was planning to
give it to him as a little going away present and
hoped he liked it as much as she did.

As she started down the hallway, Annie suddenly
realized that something didn’t quite feel right. It
was strange, but she couldn’t seem to put her finger
on it. She was reaching into her purse for her
apartment key when she suddenly tripped over
something. Her bag and its contents fell to the floor,
since luck would have it that way. As she bent down to
retrieve her things, Annie caught a look at what she’d
tripped over.

It was JC’s jacket. She picked it up, feeling a little
panicked. Allowing her eyes to trace over the floor,
she saw first one shoe, then another leading to
Babette’s door. "Oh my God," she muttered under her
breath, starting for the door as her purse and the
dropped contents were forgotten. She burst into the
apartment, only to be greeted by a continuing parade
of JC’s clothes leading to what could only be the
bedroom.

Annie raced to the door and literally kicked it open,
her voice high-pitched and hoarse as she alternately
screamed JC and Babette’s names. In the bedroom,
Babette lay on the bed smoking one of her trademark
clove cigarettes. She was completely naked, save for
JC’s shirt which she had on, draped casually open in
front. Resting on her stomach was a bouquet of
wildflowers; the petals of some spread helter-skelter
about the bed and even a few in her hair. Next to her
under the covers was JC. He was covered by a sheet,
but it was fairly obvious that he was naked as well.

"Shhh," Babette whispered, blowing a thin stream of
smoke out between her teeth as she hissed the word.
"You’ll wake him. After all, he’s had such a strenuous
afternoon." She reached over and patted JC on the head
gently, then gave Annie a truly poisonous look. "He’s
quite an animal. You don’t know what you’ve been
missing."

"Babette, I don’t believe this." Annie somehow managed
to remain standing, clinging to the door frame for
support. " I don’t believe this at all. Why…" She had
to pause, trying to swallow past the lump that had
taken up residence in her throat. "Why in heaven’s
name would he do this?!"

Babette’s face suddenly lit up. "Oh, how rude of me.
Would you like to see the pictures?" She threw a wad
of Polaroid’s at Annie. They bounced off her chest and
landed in a jumbled heap on the floor, face down.

Annie slowly bent down to the floor to retrieve the
photos, but paused just short of them. Maybe…maybe
there was still hope. Just maybe there was a perfectly
rational explanation for JC being naked with Babette
in her bedroom, in her bed, that didn’t mean he’d
betrayed her love. If she picked up those pictures, if
she looked at them…it would shatter everything she
presently knew to be true. And where would that leave
her when it was over? Angry, hurt, alone…wouldn’t it
be better to just not look at them?

It might…but what kind of life would she be living if
she just turned her back on something like this?
Taking one last deep breath, Annie picked up the
photographs and turned them over. Her breath turned
into a cry that sounded eerily akin to a wounded
rabbit. ‘This was a mistake,’ her mind screamed at
her. ‘Just throw them down and get out of there!’ But
like a siren, Annie found herself drawn to look at the
next one.

It only served to make things worse.

Every single one was a picture of JC and Babette
having mad sex in ways that would make even the porn
industry jealous. As she flashed by each one, Annie
felt a truly black emotion welling up inside. She was
torn between wanting to throw something, choke
Babette, kick JC straight in the crotch or just curl
up in a corner and hide from the world. Her heart felt
like someone had ripped it out with a spoon covered in
salt, while her stomach churned as if someone else had
used it as a punching bag for a few hours.

After a few more pain-racked emotions that all seemed
to involve a very large group of rather heartless
people doing generally unpleasant things to her, Annie
managed to pry her hand open long enough to drop the
pictures. With a final, scared little whimper, she
retreated back to her flat. She struggled to open the
door, then remembered that she’d never unlocked it.
Annie started tearing through the spilled contents of
her purse on the floor, tears blurring her vision
while she desperately searched for a way to escape all
that she’d just seen.

Finally, the key slid into her hand. She jammed it
into the lock, nearly breaking it as she wrenched the
door open and stumbled inside. Rosemarie, who had been
listening curiously to the commotion out in the hall,
gave out a startled hiss and ran full speed into the
bedroom, where she dove under the bed.

Annie didn’t notice. She had gone straight to the
bathroom and proceeded to be violently ill. After
flushing the offensive contents of the toilet away,
she stood over the sink splashing water into her face.
As she stared at her haggard and frightened expression
in the mirror, she felt a jumble of emotions jaunting
for supremacy in her mind. Annie knew she couldn’t
possibly remain in her flat, so close to where…she
just couldn’t stay. ‘But where could she go? Who could
possibly understand what she was going through right
now?’

It suddenly dawned on her. "Claude," Annie sobbed,
straightening up. "He’ll know what to do." She turned
off the light and began walking down the hallway. But
as she passed by the room she used as a studio,
something seemed to possess her. Annie stalked into
the room, staring at all the pictures she’d painted of
JC. Each one filled her with more and more anger,
until she couldn’t take it anymore. Crying and
screaming with rage, Annie tore every single painting
to pieces, even going so far as to throw the now empty
easel against the wall.

Running out of the apartment, she stopped only long
enough to shove her purse and all its contents inside
the door. She then slammed it shut, forgetting to lock
it and not even bothering to check if it had even
closed completely. Because of the rush in which she
left, only the picture she had been carrying in her
purse had escaped her rampage of sorrow. The one that
she’d meant as a present for him.

Babette, hearing the warpath that Annie had subjected
her own home to, began laughing maniacally when she
heard the door slam. However, she stopped suddenly
when she saw that JC was beginning to stir. She kissed
him in a sad parody of maternal love, then got up and
moved into a chair next to the bed. All the while, she
continued smoking and playing with the bracelet she’d
found in JC’s pocket.

JC woke up slowly, reluctantly. For some reason, his
mind was having trouble telling him where he was and
why, while his head felt as if a thousand angry little
squirrels had tried stuffing coconuts in through his
eyes. In other words, a VERY bad headache. Apparently,
one of the squirrels had succeeded, for there was a
huge knot on the back of his head that seemed to throb
spitefully whenever he touched it. JC opened his eyes
to see if that might help jump-start his brain into
reminding him what was going on, but he didn’t
recognize the room, mostly due to the fact that his
eyes seemed to be trying to turn around in their
sockets to see if indeed it was a coconut and maybe
not just a walnut stuffed inside his head by those
evil squirrels. Basically, nothing was focusing.

He realized that he felt strangely chilled and a
fabric unlike any of the clothes he wore was lying
against his skin. Pushing that disconcerting thought
aside, JC noticed that his eyes seemed to be focusing,
so he took another glance about the room.

The walls of the room were a purple so dark it seemed
black, which went well with the ceiling and carpet
which were black. There was a eclectic collection of
rock posters hung on the walls. At least, he assumed
they were rock…all the titles were in French. Against
one wall was something that looked like
a…dresser?…with lots of little skull and skeleton
decorations. JC saw that some of them were incense
burners and realized that the room’s only light was
coming from dozens of candles, all of them lit.

It gradually became clear to JC that he was lying in a
bed. It appeared to be just a simple double bed with a
headboard of some type of dark wood. He noticed
several necklaces hanging from the bedposts, one of
them looking eerily familiar… It was then that he
realized the strange fabric against his skin was in
fact the black satin sheets of the bed. This led him
to the unpleasant fact that he was completely naked!
He suddenly felt something blow against his skin, and
he looked quickly to see what it was.

It was a blossom from the bouquet of wildflowers he’d
bought for Annie. But how had they gotten in here? For
that matter, how had he gotten in here, wherever here
was.

Someone giggled in amusement nearby and JC spun to see
where the sound had come from. To his further
surprise, he saw Babette lounging in a chair next to
the bed. She was completely naked, save for his shirt
which she wore draped open casually in front and the
bracelet he’d gotten for Annie on her left wrist. The
majority of the flowers were resting in her arms, and
even as he stared, she giggled again and blew another
towards him. "Mon ami, you’re finally awake," Babette
purred, tilting her head at him seductively. "I want
to thank you; you are, without a doubt, the best lover
I’ve ever had."

JC gave her a look like one would give to an oncoming
train. "I…I don’t remember a thing."

She gave him a pouty look as she dropped the flowers.
"Oh Cheri, did I mean that little to you?"

"Honestly, I don’t remember." He gave her a slightly
disgusted look. "And no offense, but I can’t imagine
that I would ever sleep with someone like you."

Babette curled up sideways on her chair, playing with
a lock of her hair as she took another puff of her
cigarette. "But you did ‘sleep’ with me," she
insisted, giving him a playful wink.

JC was starting to get angry. "Enough of this. Where
are the rest of my clothes? I have to get to Annie."

"Oh, she was here."

He froze at her words. "She was?"

Babette nodded. "Absolutely. And when that slow little
head of hers finally realized that you really cared
for me instead of her, she ran out of here." Another
breath of smoke. "It’s really a shame you slept
through it…it was quite a lot of fun to watch."

"Annie was here?!" JC felt pure terror run through his
veins like liquid ice. "I have to find her and
explain. That is…if she’ll believe me." He put a hand
to the bump on his head. "Dammit, if I could just
remember." He glared at her then, almost hating her.
"Give me my shirt back," he growled darkly.

"Okay, okay." Babette sighed and slowly removed his
shirt, sniffing it once before tossing it to him.
"Here." She then stuck her tongue out at him.
"Whiner."

JC snatched the shirt out of the air and hastily put
it on, then leapt out of the bed towards the door. To
his surprise, he realized the carpet had literally
been painted black; it crunched under his feet as he
ran across to the door. He quickly gathered the rest
of his clothes from various parts of the apartment,
sliding into them as he rushed to Annie’s door. He was
instantly alarmed to see that the door was slightly
ajar. Pushing it open a little further, he grew even
more anxious to see her purse and its contents
scattered over the floor near the entry.

"Annie?" JC called softly, desperately hoping to hear
her answer. "Annie?" He entered the flat, closing the
door softly behind him. "Please, please answer me.
Annie?"

He cautiously made his way back to her bedroom, but no
one was there. Under the bed, though, he saw Rosemarie
and moved toward her. "Hey," JC called softly, not
wanting to scare her. "You okay?" The cat’s tail was
huge, all puffed up and flicking back and forth
wildly. As he reached for her, she hissed and took a
swipe at his outstretched hand. JC pulled it back, but
not before she managed to score a tiny scratch on the
back of his hand. "Ow!"

Rosemarie took advantage of JC’s temporary
disorientation and darted out from under the bed,
making a bee-line for the studio. JC jumped up and
chased after her, not wanting the cat to accidentally
knock over one of Annie’s paintings.

Arriving in the studio, however, JC saw that the
destruction of Annie’s work by the cat was a definite
impossibility. He could feel her anger, saw the
intensity of her hatred in every slice, every broken
frame of the pictures. Even her easel had not escaped
her wrath; it lay broken in one corner, looking like
it’d been thrown against a wall.

Rosemarie had retreated under a space created by
several of the larger paintings leaning against one
another. JC wisely decided not to try and comfort the
cat again. Besides, he had to find Annie. "Where could
she have gone?" he muttered to himself under his
breath, staring at the destruction around him. Then it
struck him. "Claude!" he exclaimed, snapping his
fingers. "Of course! He’s like her father over here in
Paris. Annie’d be sure to go to him if she didn’t know
where else to turn."

JC raced out of the apartment, but did have the
presence of mind to shut the door and make sure
Rosemarie didn’t escape. As he flew down the hall, he
hardly noticed Babette. She was clad in an old, dirty
robe barely closed in front to be considered decent.
As she was picking up the photos Annie had dropped on
her way to destroy the studio, Babette’s mouth turned
up in a sly little grin that slowly spread into a full
smile.

"Well, that was fun," she sang to herself, almost
bouncing with child-like joy as she closed the door to
her flat.

JC made it to Claude’s in time that would challenge
the world’s land speed record, had anyone with a
stopwatch and official authorization bothered to be
present and watching. He burst into the door of the
shop and was instantly greeted by a fuming Claude.

"Is…is Annie here?" JC was doubled over panting, hands
resting on his knees. "Please…I have to…speak…with
her."

Claude glared at him darkly over the counter,
clenching his cane in his fist. "How dare you come
here, after what you’ve done. Such audacity…" His gaze
became harder. "I had such faith in you. How could you
betray her like that?"

"But I didn’t! I don’t remember…everything is a blur."
He straightened up, putting both hands on the counter.
"Please, can I talk to Annie?" His eyes pleaded with
Claude, hoping to find some well of sympathy. "I need
to explain. Please…"

Claude seemed to soften just the slightest bit. "How
are you going to explain things to her if you yourself
can’t remember?"

"I…I’m not sure. But I do know that I need to see
her."

Claude’s face turned hard again. "You can’t."

"Why?"

"Because…" He paused for the barest space of a second.
"She’s not here right now."

JC was becoming more desperate. "Do you know where I
can find her?"
"No I don’t. But I seriously think you should leave
right now." Claude made as if to turn away. "The very
sight of you disgusts me."

"Please!" JC began to reach over the counter for
Claude’s arm. "Please help me!"

The old man froze as JC’s hand brushed his arm.
"Joshua," he began, his voice dark and low as a
foreboding thunderstorm, "if you know what is good for
you, you will leave now." Claude turned his head back
towards him just enough so JC caught the almost
dangerous glare in his eyes. "Don’t make me do
something that we both shall regret."

JC pulled back, full of despair. "All right, I’ll go.
But please…if you see Annie, tell her there’s been a
HUGE misunderstanding. And tell her I’m sorry…" Tears
were beginning to well up in his eyes. "I love her."

Claude turned away. "You have an odd way of showing
that love." He waved his hand as if dismissing a fly.
"Now get out of my shop…and never come back."

JC left reluctantly, looking back over his shoulder at
the shop one last time before he started down the
street. As soon as he was out of sight, Claude went
into the back towards his bedroom.

Annie was still lying on his bed, her face buried in
his pillow as she sobbed uncontrollably. When he sat
next to her, she threw herself into his arms. "How…?"
she asked him through her tears. "Claude, how could he
do this to me? Just last week…we had vowed to wait.
Then he has…SEX…with Babette." Annie spit out the
Goth’s name in disgust. "Babette, of all people.
Crazy…dirty…loony Babette. It makes me sick just
thinking about it."

Claude rubbed her back consolingly. "Are you sure?"

"I saw the pictures!" Claude felt more of her tears
soaking into his shirt. "They were…disgusting. She
said…he was an animal…They certainly showed that."

He tried to get her to face him. "Annie, he says he
doesn’t remember."

Annie forcefully kept her head down. "He’s lying. How
could someone possibly forget something like that?!"
She abruptly sighed, like her strength had all at once
abandoned her. "Claude, I don’t want to talk about
this anymore." She laid back down on the bed and
curled into a fetal position. "If it’s okay with you,
I’d like to just sleep for a while."

Claude nodded, getting up and covering her gently with
a blanket. "Sleep, Annie. We can figure this all out
when you’re ready." After closing the door, he walked
into the kitchen and sat down at the table where
Jacques was writing a paper for one of his classes.
("Something’s just not right about this,") the former
mused in French, stroking his chin meditatively.
("Annie is so sure that Joshua had betrayed her, but
he’s just as adamant that he didn’t.")

Jacques looked up from his work. ("Maybe so, but Annie
says she saw pictures of it.")

("I know…") Claude sighed. ("That’s what troubles me.
I’ll have to give this some serious thought.")

JC blindly wandered the streets of Paris for hours in
a daze before finally stumbling back to the hotel
where he and the guys were staying. As he passed by
the front desk, the clerk waved him down and handed
him a letter. The writing on the front, while messy,
was quite obviously Annie’s. He ran to his room,
hardly closing the door behind him as he ripped open
the envelope.

Joshua,
There are no sufficient words in any language to
adequately express the emotions that I am feeling
right now. I can’t believe you would do something like
this to me. You told me you loved me, that I was your
world. Well, obviously you need a far more sexual one
than originally planned. So much for that "special
gift" you were planning to give. That’s shot to hell
now, isn’t it?!

Josh, I never want to see you again. I thought about
placing an ancient Irish curse on you, but that would
be nonsense. Besides, I don’t want to hurt the other
guys…only you!

Have a "wonderful" life with "great" success. I hope
you get everything you deserve and more. If I think of
it, I’ll have the photos enlarged and sent to you at
my own expense. Better yet, I could have Babette
autograph them for you. Just thank your lucky stars
that I am not a vengeful person or you’d see them
plastered on the front page of every newspaper I could
get them to in time for tomorrow’s issue.

Goodbye forever.

Signed,
Annie

JC lost it. For what would be the first and only
time, he completely destroyed his hotel room. When
Johnny and Lance came to get him in the morning, the
former quietly paid double for the damages and kept it
out of the papers.

JC didn’t say more than 2 words the rest of the trip.
He simply sat in his seat, staring straight ahead with
Annie’s letter wadded up in his hand. Lance was
concerned, but realized that right then wasn’t the
time to ask what had happened. He’d wait patiently
until JC was ready to open up and tell him willingly.

It would be a long time before he was.

Paris - Chapter Eight

Flashback continues May 1998 – September 1998

After their success in Europe, *Nsync was ready to
return home and conquer America. They arrived
triumphantly home to the sound of crickets throughout
the airport and their parents picking them up in the
parking lot.

Throughout the trip, JC had written countless letters
to Annie. Every single one had been promptly sent
back, unopened and marked "Return to Sender". Lance
had been patient and faithfully at JC’s side through
the whole ordeal, but even polite Southern gentlemen
have their limits. Eventually, he could remain silent
no longer. "JC, don’t you think it’s time to quit
being hung up on Annie? She keeps sending back your
letters and it’s pretty obvious she does it without
even looking at them." Lance took a deep breath. "I
don’t know that happened and I don’t mean to pry, but
I think it’s pretty hopeless." He paused for a moment,
then continued. "JC, what did happen?" A very
embarrassed look then came over his face. "That is, if
you don’t mind me asking."

"No, it’s okay." JC sighed. "I’ll tell you everything
that I know for sure." And he did, filling in
everything he could remember.

Lance stood awestruck as he listened, unable to
believe what his friend was saying. "This wasn’t the
JC he knew, that JC would never do anything like that.
After his friend finished his story, Lance was at a
loss for words. "Are you sure?" He asked quietly.

"I guess" JC sighed. "Even I’m starting to believe it
happened that way. Annie certainly did, so did Claude.
I’ve tried over and over again to talk to her, but it
seems so useless." He bowed his head, closing his
eyes. "Maybe it is time I just put it behind me and
move on like you said."

Lance put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. "I’m
sorry."

JC opened his eyes. "Lance, do me a favor."

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Please don’t mention this to the rest of the guys."
He looked pleadingly into his friend’s face. "Okay?"

Lance nodded once. "Promise."

JC let out the breath he didn’t realize he’s been
holding. "Thanks."

Meanwhile Annie was still trying to cope. She ended up
staying with Claude for several weeks before finally
building up enough courage to go back to her flat.
Both Claude and Jacques had given much love and
support, but were baffled by what had transpired.
Claude especially felt that something was very wrong,
yet couldn’t come to a reasonable explanation.
Something to do with those bothersome pictures, but
Annie refused to talk about them. Instead, she spent
hours on the phone with her mother and father. Of
course, they were a great comfort to her, but there is
only so much one can do to console over a phone line.
They were at a loss about what to do as was their
daughter.

As Annie walked down the hallway towards her
apartment, she tried to steady herself. She would be
passing right by Babette’s door before reaching her
own. Fortunately, she made it past without incident,
breathing a sigh of relief as she entered her home.

There, she saw that Jacques had cleaned up the
destruction in her studio. Not to mention he also had
made sure to feed Rosemarie, stocked her fridge and
left some flowers in a jar on the table. Unbeknownst
to Annie, he’d also taken the liberty of hiding the
small picture of JC she had painted, the only one to
escape her wrath since it had been dropped in the
living room, in a box in the closet.

She sighed and picked up Rosemarie, who responded with
a meow of protest. Having been left alone for so long
with no real petting had gotten the cat seriously
miffed. Annie hugged her by way of apology and went to
sit by the window. She remained there for hours,
stroking Rosemarie and thinking. Eventually, she came
to the conclusion that life was too short to spend
wallowing self-pity.

An important decision was made that day. Annie decided
to contact the gentleman who had left his card at
Basille’s studio, the American who wanted her to
return to America with him and help him in his
business.

His name was John Evans, an ex-CIA man who now made
prosthetic appliances for people who had become
disfigured by illness, accidents or burns. John had
complimented her work, saying that her art reflected a
special "eye" for seeing people as they really were.
Annie had accepted his compliment, then realized the
truth behind his words. By doing this, she could
actually do something worthwhile with her art, instead
of just making the world a prettier place to look at.
She could give people back their lives, their hope,
dignity.

Annie called everyone to let them know. Claude thought
it was a marvelous opportunity, saying this seemed to
be her calling, a life’s mission. Naturally, her
parents were doubly thrilled. This meant she’d be
coming home at last!

No sooner had she hung up the phone; Annie heard a
knock at her door. Yet when she opened the door, no
one was there but there was a photo. The woman felt
her face flush slightly with anger. Babette! How dare
she do this! After all-, Annie cut herself off,
sensing that this reaction was probably exactly, what
Babette wanted to happen. She picked up the picture
and placed it in a box by the door without looking at
it. Sitting down at her desk, she started making a
list of things to take back with her to America.
Anything not on the list would be left behind. Not
long into this activity, another knock at the door.
Opening it, she was somehow not surprised to see
another photo on the floor. It befell the same fate as
the first; into the box without so much as a glance to
acknowledge it.

At this point, Annie suddenly realized that she hadn’t
had anything to eat since breakfast. The kitchen was
her next stop as she descended on it and made herself
dinner. While she was eating, yet another knock
resounded on the door. Annie ran to it, flinging it
open just as Babette was starting to scurry away.

"Babette" Annie called harshly, stopping the woman
dead in her tracks. The woman slowly turned back to
face her, looking more undone than she had ever
before. "What is the meaning of this, Babette?"

Babette’s eyes were glazed, seemingly unable to focus
and flitting from object to object like a hummingbird
on crack. Somehow, they managed to connect with
Annie’s for a brief moment.

"He’s gone." She whispered, her voice cracking. "He’s
never coming back." She trailed off as tears began to
fall from her eyes. "Why did he leave me?"

"Who left you?"

A sob racked her frame. "Jake."

Annie felt a moment of strange relief, but about what?
"Babette, Jake’s in prison." She lowered her voice,
trying to remind her. "Don’t you remember? He hurt
you."

Babette sank to the floor, crying quietly. She curled
up, hugging her knees and whimpering as the tears
coursed down. Every now and then, the words "he’s
gone" could be made out between sobs.

Annie helped the woman up, leading her to her flat.
The apartment itself was in such shambles one could
hardly walk around. The carpet, which was supposed to
be shag, crunched with every step. Looking at it, one
could see why; it was thoroughly encrusted with food
stains from unknown periods of time. The whole place
looked as if Babette hadn’t thrown anything away for
years. Dirty clothes, garbage and piles of old food in
various stages of decay littered every available
space.

Somehow Annie managed to clear a space on the couch
that looked halfway suitable for sitting and helped
Babette to it. The former was no longer angry; how
could someone be angry at the sad and miserable
creature Babette had become?

Babette emerged out of her cocoon and looked soulfully
at Annie. "Where’s Josh?"

Mixed emotions of anger, betrayal and sadness rose in
Annie all at once. "He’s gone back to America."

She seemed to be descending back into her personal
prison of torment. "He left me too."

"Babette?" The American girl moved to sit on the
couch, then thought better of it and instead rested a
hand on Babette’s shoulder. "What happened back in
May?"

Babette supported her forehead with one hand,
appearing to be debating about something. After a few
moments, she nodded slowly. "I’ll tell you, but
first". She raised her gaze to meet Annie’s. "May I
have a cup of tea?"

Annie nodded "Sure."

She made her way into the kitchen then stopped dead in
her tracks. The trail of decay in the living was only
a segue to what lay in back. Old food seemed to be
migrating out of a pile of garbage where one would
assume there had once been a can to hold it. An old
table with a single chair in the center of the room
seemed only to serve as an island of refuge for any
insects who may have gotten lost in the sea of scum.
Dirty pots and pans that appeared to have gone months
without feeling the soft touch of water or soap
littered the counters. A single plant stood dead in
the corner by the stove, its leaves black and
withering. Suppressing a shudder of revulsion, Annie
started searching for the tea supplies.

Babette stared out the window, watching the world go
by as she always did from her living room. Down below,
people went about their daily lives. Going to work,
falling in love, eating meals, being alone; all these
things could be seen from her perch. It was the same
view as it always was, though, and she was beginning
to get bored with it.

Wait there, across the street. Was it? It couldn’t be;
he was in jail far away. Babette stood to get a better
look, but her window as too dirty. Frowning she
started to push it open.

Annie leaned with her back against the refrigerator,
her face slightly white. Out of curiosity or just
plain naiveté, she had opened the fridge to see if
there was any milk. The sight that had greeted her
was, no, she didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Hidden under some relatively clean newspapers had been
an equally, relatively clean kettle. She got the water
started, then scoured the kitchen for a tea bag
suitable for being made into tea and a cup as suited
for holding said tea.

No sooner had she found them, the sound of shattering
glass sounded from the living room. Accompanying it
was a small shriek of surprise, then a sickening thud
along with something that sounded like crunching.

Annie ran out into the living room. Babette was not on
the couch. In fact, she wasn’t anywhere in the room at
all. The window was wide open, that wasn’t true. The
window was slightly open, yes, but there was a large
hole in the center where the glass was missing. Like
something had fallen through it. Or someone!

Annie ran to the window and looked down. Babette’s
body was sprawled out on the sidewalk, a large pool of
blood already beginning to spread out beneath her. The
woman’s neck and back were at odd, opposite angles to
one another. She was clearly dead and her secret dead
with her. People were gathering around to see what had
happened. Unsure of what to do, Annie went down to
join them.

SUNDAY

Babette was buried the next day. A small funeral
marked her passage, with Annie, Jacques and the
landlord the only ones in attendance. Afterwards, all
three of them began the daunting task of cleaning out
the dead woman’s apartment. It seemed the right thing
to do.

In the bedroom, Jacques found the rest of the photos
depicting JC and Babette’s "wild night", as well as
the bracelet that was supposed to be a gift for Annie.
He placed all these items in his pocket with the
intention of disposing of them later. No need to make
Annie upset at a time like this. Tonight was her
going-away party and he wanted everything to be
perfect.

After having dinner with Claude, Annie and Jacques
went to Mimi and Frank’s, friends from school.
Entering Annie couldn’t help but let herself get
carried into the spirit of the party. Everything was
very pretty, neat and clean, as it always was there,
but the festive decorations somehow made it look even
more inviting than usual.

Everyone was having a good time when Frank turned on
the TV. He had just gotten a new satellite feed for it
and wanted to show it off. A concert in Disney World
caught his attention; one of the guys in the group
looked vaguely familiar. "Hey Annie! Can you come here
a minute?"

Annie answered his call from across the room, sipping
from her wineglass. "What’s up?"

Then she caught a look at what was on the screen and
froze, the glass almost dropping from her hand to the
carpet.

It was a close-up of JC singing a ballad. He looked
and sounded like an angel, putting all of his heart
and soul into a song called "Sailing." The energy and
raw emotion was tangible in the room. Annie felt her
knees starting to buckle as her breath became shallow
and loud in her ears. A seat! She had to sit down. She
was going to pass out.

"Annie?" Frank put a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

She put a shaking hand to her forehead. "Yeah, I’m
fine."

"Don’t you know that guy?" He nodded towards the TV.
"Wasn’t he the guy you were seeing a couple of months
ago."

"What?" Oh no, he was just a friend."

By this time, more people were starting to crowd
around to see the concert.

"These guys are good," Someone murmured from the
background.

"Listen to those harmonies," came another awed
whisper.

Someone nearby nodded. "You rarely hear harmonies that
good except among family members."

"Great dance moves, too."

Annie had to leave; to get away. Her emotions taking
her on the equivalent to the Draken Fire roller
coaster of Busch Gardens, Virginia. This was a truly
nasty device that eventually had to be deconstructed
because it injured many of its riders with whiplash,
headaches and cuts to the poor fools dumb enough to
leave their earrings in while riding it. Basically,
not a very pleasant experience.

She made her way over to Jacques. "Please, let’s go to
the balcony. I need some air."

He guided her out, then went and brought her a glass
of water.

She accepted it gratefully. "Thanks." She took a long
drink, then smiled weakly at him. "He looked good,
don’t you think?"

"Yes." Jacques gave her a sidelong look. "Annie, are
you alright?"

She sighed, closing her eyes and holding the glass
against her forehead. "No, I can’t breathe. I thought
I could handle this, but I can’t." A tear traced its
way down her cheek. "Please take me home."

Both made their excuses and left, riding in silence
back to Claude’s. They walked in and Annie made a
beeline for her room there. Everything from her
apartment had already been taken care of, so she was
staying with them for the remainder of her time in
Paris.

Claude watched Annie enter her room, then turned to
Jacques. "What happened?" The young man told him, then
watched as the older man went to her room and knocked
on the door. Annie responded through the door that she
wanted to be alone, so Claude honored her wishes.
Rosemarie, however, was a different story. One pitiful
meow at the door was enough to get her access inside.
The cat was going to be staying behind with Claude and
Jacques when Annie had to return to the United States.

MONDAY

The next morning, Annie got up and entered the
kitchen, smiling. In her hands was a small box
addressed to JC. She went over to Claude and kissed
him on the cheek. "Claude, thank you for everything
that you’ve done for me. I don’t know how I could have
survived without your love. I’m going to miss you so
much." She turned to Jacques. "Jacques, could you
please send this to JC for me? I want him to have
this."

"Okay." To himself, though, he smiled. ‘I’ll just add
a few things to it before it gets sent off.’ Jacques
knew the pictures of JC and Babette were faked; it was
obvious to anyone giving them more than a cursory
glance. But, of course, he had another reason for
knowing they were fake. Jacques had been the one who
had taken the photographs.

Naturally, Babette would never have agreed to do
something so malicious. She was insane and delusional,
yes, but not cruel. So, he had persuaded her by
calling it a game. All she had to do was pretend that
she and JC had sex, then make sure to give the
pictures to Annie. And of course, JC couldn’t know
about it either.

Looking back on it though, Jacques had to admit
Babette had been very clever, preying on Annie’s
emotions and vulnerability. Deep inside, he felt that
he should tell Annie the truth. But he just couldn’t
bring himself to do it. She still wanted JC, while
Jacques had been ever at her side, always faithful and
true to her alone.

Besides, what could that "Pretty Boy" give her? He
didn’t even have a steady job, yet; surely, Annie
deserved better that. Someone who had more in common
with her. Besides, he thought to himself, who would
tell? Babette was dead, and JC certainly wouldn’t want
to reveal anything. He’d be too embarrassed by the
photos, destroying them before anyone could get a good
look at them. Oh sure, she was going away, but he
would still court her from afar. There was always
hope.

Everyone ate their breakfast in silence. This was
their last day together. When it was time to go, Annie
walked from room to room, touching things here and
there as if to cement them in her memory. She
re-entered the kitchen with tears in her eyes.

"It’s time for me to go," she sobbed. "I have dreaded
this day since I first met both of you. You are my
family. Please" Another sob cut off her words.
"Promise that you’ll write."

Claude took her hand to provide comfort. "Of course.
Everyday". Annie moved closer and threw her arms
around him. "I will miss you the most." She whispered.

The two of them continued hugging locked in the
embrace. After several moments, Jacques touched her
shoulder gently. "It’s time to leave for the airport
now."

Claude caressed her face. "Annie, may God watch over
you and keep you safe. I pray He gives you blessing
and joy." He wiped one tear away with his thumb,
staring into her face. "I love you so much."

Annie smiled through her sadness. "I love you too,
Grandpere Claude." They embraced one more time, and
then she walked out to the car.

Jacques drove her to the airport. While they were
waiting, he handed her a small box. Annie gave him a
strange look, then opened it. What she saw inside took
her breath away. "Jacques." She whispered. "What is
this?"

He took her hands in his. "Annie, I know that you have
always loved me as a brother. Yet, I was hoping I
could change your mind. Will you marry me?"

"No," she replied gently, turning away. "I can’t. You
are a dear, sweet, loving man, but I don’t love you in
that way."

"But, I have enough love for the both of us. In time,
you could grow to love me."

"No, it wouldn’t be fair. You deserve better." She
faced him again. "You shouldn’t settle for less than
someone who loves you like you love them. I am very
flattered, but I cannot accept your proposal."

Jacques face darkened. "It’s JC, isn’t it? He still
holds your heart."

"No, that’s not true."

"Annie, I saw your reaction to him last night. You’re
fooling yourself."

"He betrayed me, for that, I can never trust him. In
my heart, I have forgiven him, but it can never be as
it once was."

Jacques sighed, then looked pleadingly into her eyes.
"Annie, would you at least do me the honor of putting
the ring on your finger for a few minutes? At least
that? For me?"

Annie hesitated. "I don’t know."

"Please"

"Alright." She held out her left hand as Jacques
slipped the ring on. Nearby, someone dressed to fit
into the crowd covertly took a picture of the scene.

Once the ring was on, Jacques gave her a hug, followed
by a kiss.

"Jacques, please." Annie took off the ring. "Don’t".
She returned the ring to him.

The loudspeakers of the airport chose that moment to
save Annie. "Flight 802 for New York City now boarding
at Gate 11."

"That’s my flight." For some reason, Annie was
grateful for the interruption.

"I have to go." She seemed about to hug him, then
changed her mind and picked up her bag. "Please don’t
forget to mail my package." Annie then disappeared
down the walkway towards the plane.

‘Oh, I’ll take care if it,’ Jacques thought to himself
as he watched her go. ‘I’m a patient man, Annie.
Someday I’ll convince you that we belong together.’

As Annie’s plane began its taxi down the runway,
Jacques was adding the final piece to JC’s package.
"I’m sending this out to you, JC", he chuckled darkly.
"With all my love."

TUESDAY

Johnny was giving the boys of *Nsync a pep talk in his
office, raining praise on them for their performance
at Disney and how well the concert had been received.
It was now official; they were on their way.

"Oh, JC. This came for you today." He slid a package
across the desk towards the young man. Taking it, JC
saw it was postmarked Paris.

In Paris, Jacques was minding the store when Claude
came storming in from the back. In his hand were two
of the pictures featuring Babette and JC. Somehow,
they had fallen out of the box of things Annie had
left behind. The ones Babette had hand-delivered to
Annie on the day she died.

Claude came up, eyes burning with anger. "Jacques,
what is the meaning of this?! Does Annie know these
pictures are a fraud?"

Paris - Chapter Nine


FLASHBACK CONTINUES - Tuesday

JC tore open the package. The first thing that caught
his eye was Annie’s letter, sitting on top.

Dear Josh,

I saw you and the guys on TV tonight. I have to say
your performance took my breath away. From the first
time I met all of you, I knew you’d be going place.
Congratulations! It was wonderful.

Although I have forgiven you in my heart, I just can’t
find it in myself to trust you again. I wish I could
and maybe in time I will. To harbor ill feelings
towards you will only make me bitter and hard to the
world. I don’t want that.

I wish you joy and happiness, and I pray the Lord
continues to bless you in all you do. Goodbye, and
have a prosperous life.

Annie

P.S. Here is the picture that I painted for you. I
hope that you like it. I was very pleased with how it
came out.

JC looked back in the box to see the picture resting
underneath where the letter had been. He took it in
his hand, studying it in its silver frame. The face
staring back at him was his own, but with longer hair.
Annie had been right; he did look better with it like
that.

Possibly feeling slightly jealous that JC had gotten a
package and they hadn’t the rest of the guys came up
behind him to peer over his shoulder.

Joey let out a low whistle. "Wow."

Justin nodded. "She’s really captured you."

Lance took his turn admiring the artwork. "That’s
fantastic."

Chris grabbed JC in a headlock, mussing up his hair.
"How and why did you let her get away?" he laughed,
taking on what seemed to be his perpetual role as big
brother.

Meanwhile, Joey, who seemed to be developing some sort
of attention disorder, had already become bored with
the painting and was now rooting through the other
contents of the package. "Hey look! There’s more stuff
in this box." He pulled out a stack of photos. "What’s
this?"

Joey started looking through them, Justin joining him.
The latter pointed at them. "These look like some of
the videos you like to watch, Joey." This prompted
Joey to quickly drop the photos on the floor and get
into a very lively wrestling match with Justin.

Lance sighed, then picked up one of the fallen
pictures, looking at it curiously. "JC, have you ever
seen these?"

JC glanced up from the painting of himself. "No."

The southern boy held one out to him. "Well, you might
want to now."

He put down the frame and came over to where Lance
stood a worried expression on his face. "Why?"

Lance tossed one at him. "Because they’re all
obviously staged."

"What?!" JC studied the stack Lance had given him.

"Didn’t you say you didn’t, couldn’t, remember what
happened that day?"

"Yeah."

"Well, look at this." Lance pointed at one of the
photos. "For one thing you have a huge lump on the
back of your head." His voice grew quieter. "Plus,
you look unconscious."

JC’s head jerked up. "Then I never."

Lance shook his head. "Nope"

"But" JC scratched the top of his head. "Annie must
have seen these. I mean, they’re in the box she sent
to me." He went to the next picture. "I don’t
understand."

"Hey, there’s still more stuff in the box." Justin had
somehow escaped the wrath of Joey intact and was now
pulling out the bracelet JC had bought for Annie.
"Jace, isn’t this the same one you bought in Ireland?"

Chris was now joining in the search through the box.
"And here are some pictures of Annie and that one guy
in the Paris airport." He squinted at them. "Looks
like she’s putting on an engagement ring."

"What?!" JC dropped the photos he had been holding and
rushed over to see what Chris had.

"Why didn’t she say something about this in the
letter?" He looked away, crushing the picture in his
hand. "Why? Why is she being so hurtful, so cruel?
Especially since she must know the pictures are
bogus."

Chris shrugged his shoulders. "I don’t know. Maybe she
just wanted to hurt you like she thought you hurt
her."

JC put a hand to his forehead. "I’m so confused."

Lance put his hand on JC’s shoulder. "I think it might
be best if you move on."

"You’re right." He took one last glance at the photo
in his hand, then threw it to the floor, a tear
running down his cheek. "It’s over."

Paris – Tuesday evening

Claude angrily handed the pictures to Jacques. "What
is going on?!" He growled, furious. "I found these in
a box Annie left behind. After my initial shock, I
examined them more closely and realized JC was telling
the truth. Babette staged the whole thing." His eyes
bored into those of the young man.

"Does Annie know? Did she ever really and I mean
REALLY look at them?"

Jacques looked away. "No. Babette left them for her
the day of the accident. I found a lot more while we
were helping to clean out Babette’s flat. After that
tragic afternoon, Annie and I never talked about the
pictures." He now looked Claude genuinely in the eye.
"I didn’t want to bring back painful memories to her."

"Jacques, what are you hiding?" Claude narrowed his
eyes. "Tell me the truth. You’ve never lied to me
before."

The young man could no longer hold the elder’s gaze.
"Grandpere, I love Annie so much, but she doesn’t love
me. Well, not in the way that I love her."

Jacques took a deep breath. "I asked her to marry me,
and she turned me down. So I figured if I waited long
enough, then one day, one day she would love me."

He clenched one fist at his side. "But JC stood in the
way. She still loved him or still does even now; I’m
not sure which. So, I figured if I sent the rest of
the photos, Annie’s’ bracelet which I found at
Babette’s and a picture of her accepting my ring, he
would finally give up and go away for good." A tear
traced its way down his cheek. "I’m not proud of what
I did. Please believe me when I say that I am truly
sorry, Grandpere."

Claude sighed. "Jacques, I am disappointed in you, but
I understand. You were confused and misguided in your
thinking. Sometimes love does things like that to a
person but that is still no excuse for this. We’ll
have to straighten it out." He shook his head. "I will
write Annie and explain this sorry mess to her." He
returned his hard gaze to his grandson. "Agreed?"

"Yes. Grandpere I’m so sorry."

"I know, and I forgive you." Claude began to move
towards the door. "But it is not my forgiveness that
you must obtain. " It’s Annie and JC’s. He sighed,
deeper this time. "I am suddenly very tired. Goodnight
Jacques." On his way out, he turned one last time. "I
love you, never forget that."

Jacques nodded. "I love you too, Grandpere.
Goodnight."

That night, in his sleep, Claude quietly went home to
be with the Lord.

Paris - Chapter Ten


Flashback (TUESDAY)

Annie’s plane landed safely in Orlando, Florida. After
going through the usual horror of getting off the
plane, retrieving her luggage from the beast living in
the conveyor belt, dancing through the fun of Customs
with an officer who looked like she’d have been better
suited to checking the luggage of incoming souls to
Hell rather than exhausted travelers, and tactfully
avoiding the people selling T-shirts outside the
airport, she managed to hail a taxi and get to her
hotel. Once she was checked in, Annie called her
parents to let them know she had arrived in one piece.

Following that phone call, Annie made a second one to
her job to see what time they wanted her to report in.
Next came the unpacking of all her bags, always a
daunting task after any trip.

Growling protests from her stomach finally convinced
Annie to go eat dinner, after which she set her alarm
and flopped down on the bed. She quickly fell asleep,
not caring that it was still early. She wanted to
avoid as much jet lag as possible.

WEDNESDAY

Annie returned to the hotel early that evening. If
there was one thing she was sure proved the existence
of Evil, it was orientation tours. At this point, she
wanted only to take a shower, eat and go to sleep for
a very long time. She put on a CD of Italian music
while she prepared to get cleaned up. For some reason,
it always relaxed her.

The CD was still playing when she got out of the
shower, just in time to pick up the phone ringing next
to the stereo.

Eco ora mai, il momento temutto da tempo, sai
Gia so quello che mi dirai, e la fine, di noi
It is my hour, the moment of time
Already I know this which you give me, and the end of
us

"Hello?"

("Annie! Where have you been?!") It was Jacques voice
on the other end of the line, sounding urgent. ("I’ve
been trying to get a hold of you all day!")

Slightly irritated, she couldn’t keep the sting of
sarcasm out of her voice.

"Duh, Jacques. At my new job."

("Annie, please! Just listen to me!")

So che con lui tu te senti piu libera esere di voleve,
di prendere di contare di piu
I know that with him you feel more free to be, to
want, to have to sing of more

("Jacques, what’s wrong?") Annie suddenly felt very
chastened. It had just now dawned on her that he was
speaking in French which meant something was terribly
wrong.

("It’s. It’s Grandpere.") He sobbed.

Any remaining traces of irritation fled from Annie’s
mind. ("What happened?")

("He, he died last night; in his sleep. The doctors
say that he probably didn’t feel anything at all.")

Che scioco io io che ti o dato tutto di me
O, che vai stai portando il mio cuore con te
That I? I who gives you all of me
Oh, what happened?
You are taking my heart with you.

Annie fell heavily onto the bed, grasping the phone
tightly. ("Oh Jacques! I’m so sorry. What can I do?")

("Nothing right now.")Jacques was sobbing
intermittently now. ("The service won’t be for a few
days.")

("Jacques.") A tear fell down Annie’s cheek. ("If it
is in my power, I will be there for it.")

("I know.")

Un amore per sempre dura solo un istante
Sono tanti recordi che svaniscono en te
Resta forse quel sogno
Una stoira di amanti ma la fine vai via da me
A love for always, last only for an instant
I remember so much that, disappears in you
Perhaps the dream remains
A story of love but the end goes away from me.

("I love you, Jacques.")

There was a pause on the other end before he answered.
("I love you too, Annie. Goodbye.")

Annie hung up the phone with trembling hands, then
slid off the bed to the floor. She began to cry in
earnest now, deep gut-wrenching sobs that tore from
her throat. Her thoughts whirled about in her head
like a dervish; none stopping long enough for her to
focus on them. What to do, who to call? She snapped
her head once to clear it. Focus! Lying on the floor
like a child wasn’t going to help her right now.

Cuesta cita che mi penso deserto di lacrime
Sento il cuore affogare en me
Mentre tu sei con lui
This cites what I think, desert of tears
I feel my heart is suffocating
While you are with him.

It came to her then; Josh! She had to tell him. He had
a right to know. Holding back her sobs, Annie tore
through her purse for the card JC had given to her.
After a few tense moments of searching and fearing,
she’d somehow lost it on the plane, she found it and
picked it up. On the front of the card was WEG
Productions’ phone number, with the number of Johnny’s
private line on the back.

Annie had no trouble getting the number to work.

"Johnny Wright of WEG Productions. How may I help
you?"

"Hello, this is Annie O’Reilly." She paused; knowing
that what she was about to say was going to sound very
stupid. "You don’t know me, but I need to get in touch
with JC. I have a very important message for him."

Dicono che no se muore mel amore
Non perdi mei
Io me sento morire ormai fuoco dentro di me
I say that my love dies
You never lost I feel it die by this time
Fire within me

Johnny’s voice lost every trace of its former amiable
nature. " How did you get this number?" He demanded
quietly.

"JC gave it to me. In case, there was something
extreme or urgent I need to get to him". The man’s
tone had thrown her off slightly, and she felt about
two feet tall when she heard herself stammering.

"Johnny’s voice managed to grow even darker. "Haven’t
you done enough already?"

Annie’s voice conveyed her ever-increasing confusion.
"Excuse me?"

"JC got his package yesterday." Johnny’s voice cracked
with barely contained anger. "Were you calling to see
how deep it cut?"

So pure che dovre essere felice per te
Ma, mentirei, perche volgio che resti con me
I know however that I should be happy for you
But it is a lie, because I want what remains with me

"No!" Annie felt like things were starting to spin
away from her control. "I don’t know what you’re
talking about!"

Johnny scoffed. "Forgive me if I find that hard to
believe."

"No, really!" She was starting to panic a little at
the thought that this man might hang up on her without
even listening to her. "I don’t understand!"

"Well, neither did JC." Johnny sighed heavily,
exasperated. "I can’t think of a single reason why I
should want to continue this conversation with you."

"Wait! Please." Annie’s earlier tears were starting to
creep back into her voice. "Let me explain!"

"Like you let JC explain?" Sarcastic laughter rang
through the receiver into her ear. "This talk is over,
Annie. Goodbye."

Un amore per sempre
Dura solo un istante
Sono tanti ricordi che svaniscono en te
A love for always
Lasts only for am instant
I remember so much that disappears in you

Johnny was just about to hang up when Lance walked
into the office. Overhearing part of the conversation,
he turned to the man. "Is that our Annie?" He asked in
a hesitant tone.

Johnny’s voice was more akin to a growl. "Yes, it is."

Lance seemed to be debating something, then nodded
once. "Give me the phone."

He held out his hand.

The manager appeared hesitant at first, then shook his
head. "Sure. You talk to her."

"Annie?" Lance’s voice was cold. "It’s Lance."

Resta forse quel sogno una storia di amanti
Ma la find di verio vai, vai con duole
Perhaps this dream remains a story of love
But I see the end, you have to go, go with pain

"Oh Lance." Annie’s breath caught in her throat at
hearing the voice of someone who might still listen to
her. "I don’t know what’s going on, but I need to
leave JC a very urgent message. It’s vitally important
that he gets it."

"Didn’t you do that already?" His voice was beginning
to take on a tone similar to the one Johnny had used.

"I don’t understand. What’s happening? Everyone keeps
saying things that make no sense." She took a
shuddering breath. "I’m so confused."

Lance had no sympathy whatsoever. "How’s it feel to
have the shoe on the other foot now? Does it hurt you
as much as it hurt him, Annie?"

"Lance, I’m so mixed up." Annie’s voice was beginning
to crack. "Things are such a mess. I really need your
help. Please listen." She finally dissolved into tears
as the weight of the day’s events collapsed in on her.

Lance’s earlier anger slid away like sunlight from an
eclipse. "Annie?’ His voice was now soft, consoling.
"Please stop crying. I can’t understand a word you’re
saying." He ran a hand through his hair. "Where are
you?"

Un amore per sempre dura solo una istante
Sono troppi ricordi che scaniscono en te
Resta quei che momento forse solo un istante
Ma la fine vai via lontano da me
A love for always, lasts for only an instant
I remember so much, that disappears in you
This moment remains perhaps only an instant
But the end goes away, far away from me

"I’m at the 4 Seasons Hotel, room 472 here in Orlando.
Do you know it?" Annie somehow managed to get the
words out in between sobs.

"Yeah." Lance glanced at his watch. "I can be there in
about 1/2 an hour."

"Thank you."

As soon as Annie hung up, Lance raced out of the room.
He almost knocked over JC and Joey, who were on their
way in to discuss a photo shoot schedule.

"Whoa!" Joey slid to the side of the doorway as Lance
rushed by. The former then entered the room, glancing
over his shoulder. "Where’s he going in such a big
hurry?"

"The 4 Season Hotel". Johnny was busily scratching
something down on paper. "He just got off the phone
with Annie. Seems she’s here and rather hysterical
about something."

JC’s head jerked up from the papers he’d been looking
at. "What?’ He asked incredulously. Slowly, a very
dark scowl began to creep its way across his face. "Oh
I see." He straightened up deliberately. "Move on,
JC. Yeah, right!"

JC stalked out the door, very quiet. Johnny watched
him go, then turned to Joey. "You’d better go with
him." He stared out the door where JC had gone. "I
didn’t like the look in his eyes."

JC was struggling to unlock his car and not doing very
well. His hand was shaking so badly; it looked like he
was just someone random on the street keying up
another person’s vehicle. This, of course, only served
to further fuel his growing rage.

Joey put a hand on JC’s shoulder, another hand on the
keys. "Jace, let me drive. You’re just going to get
yourself, or someone else, hurt badly if you go racing
off like this."

JC gave him a glare, then handed over the keys without
saying a word.

No sooner had Joey pulled out of the parking lot, JC
shoved a CD in the player. The sound that came out of
the speakers sounded like a flock of chickens getting
run over by a pack of wolves who were trying to gargle
gelatin while howling "The Water is Wide." And that
was just the singing part.

The music if it could be called that in some sort of
twisted reality, sounded like an automobile from the
1940’s with all its original parts trying to run a
drag race against a 1997 Ford Mustang. Basically, a
total frontal assault on the senses.

Joey shook his head, trying to see if that would make
the music sound halfway coherent. It didn’t help at
all. He made a move to turn off the offensive sounds,
but JC slapped his hand away. "Don’t touch it. " The
latter growled, staring out the window.

"But what is it?"

"Swiss band. I can’t remember their name, but I picked
up the CD while we were in Germany." He glanced at
Joey from the corner of his eye. "And even though I
have no idea what they’re saying, it reflects
perfectly how I feel right now. So don’t touch it."

Joey decided that it would be best to go to his own
little happy place and try not to think too hard about
the noise blaring around him. Fortunately, it didn’t
take that long to get to the hotel.

"Now, JC, just let me do the talking." Joey approached
the manager with one of his best smiles. Out of the
corner of it, he whispered, "Because all you’ll get
from her is a restraining order."

JC stood off to the side, clenching and unclenching
his fists as Joey sweet-talked the manager, seething
quietly. After Joey got the room number, they took the
elevator. This only further irritated JC’s already
foul mood. By the time the door opened to their floor,
JC was in a decidedly unhealthy state of mind. He
literally sprinted out of the open door like a
racehorse, leaving Joey to keep up as well as he
could.

MEANWHILE

Ma la fine vai via lontano da me
But the end goes away, far away from me

As the song ended, Annie hit the repeat button
starting the song over again. She’d been listening to
that one song non-stop ever since getting off the
phone with Lance. During that time, she’d gotten some
underwear on and her hair half-way dry, but was still
clad in her robe.

No sooner had the song begun again, there was a knock
on her door. Annie raced over, practically ripping the
door off its hinges as she opened it. Lance stood
there, staring at her in concern. As soon as she saw
it was him, Annie dissolved into further tears,
falling forward.

Lance caught her, leading her carefully over to the
bed where they both sat down. He didn’t say anything
at first. It was one of those moments when you knew no
words were needed. He simply held her, occasionally
stroking her hair. As she continued to cry, he hugged
her close to provide comfort, whispering. "It’s okay,
Annie."

They were still sitting like that when the door bust
open. What could be most quickly described as an
extremely enraged JC came flying in, followed closely
by Joey, who was panting for breath.

Even bent over panting, Joey kept an eye on JC. His
friend’s behavior had him, to put it mildly, seriously
worried. In all the time he’d known him, Joey had
never seen JC this angry. JC had actually kicked the
door in, not such a far-fetched feat considering that
the door hadn’t even been latched. In his concern for
Annie, Lance had completely forgotten to make sure
that door had locked.

Seeing Lance, sitting there with Annie in his arms,
did absolutely nothing for JC’s state of mind. If
anything, it continued to bend what was already the
severely twisted remnants of his temper, his patience
and his heart.

"Well now." JC growled softly, spitting out each
syllable. "Isn’t this just the sweetest thing you ever
saw in your life?" His eyes locked on Lance’s face.

"Just move on? Forget about her?" JC clenched a fist
at his side. "Makes perfect sense now."

He stalked slowly towards Lance. The latter stood up
calmly, placing himself between Annie and JC. As he
got closer, JC raised his fist up, keeping his eyes
locked with Lance’s. In the background, Annie’s music
continued to play.

So che con lui tu te senti piu libera esere di voleve,
di prendere di contare di piu
I know that with him you feel more free to be, to
want, to have to sing of more

They both blinked, then JC threw his fist right
towards Lance’s jaw with all his weight, his anger,
and his pain behind it.

Disclaimer: The song featured in this chapter, "Un
Amore Per Sempre", had its music composed by Walter
Afanasieff, lyrics written by Marco Marinangel and was
performed by Josh Groban.

Paris - Chapter Eleven


JC’s fist did in fact connect with something, but it
wasn’t the side of Lance’s face. Joey had moved in
front of the punch, catching it in one hand. Now he
stood there, his bear-sized hand gently, yet firmly,
holding JC’s fist at bay.

"JC, stop this." Joey made sure he had JC’s full
attention before continuing. "It’s stupid. Is she
worth risking a friendship over?" He motioned toward
Annie over his shoulder.

Lance stood there, silently. He knew exactly why JC
had been so angry and it was all his fault.

Annie leapt off the bed, fire suddenly flashing in her
eyes. "What the hell is going on around here? Has
everyone completely lost their minds, or was there a
blue-light special at K-Mart?"

JC disentangled himself from Joey’s grip. "I don’t
know Annie," he growled, voice low and mocking. "Maybe
you, in your infinite wisdom, could enlighten us." His
eyes met her with cold fury. "I really thought you had
more imagination than this. I mean, you are the
artist."

Annie stared at him, bewildered. She opened her mouth
to speak, but the next words heard in the room were
still JC's. "Besides, among all of us here, you’re the
expert at dealing with crazy people." One of the most
unpleasant smiles streaked its way across his lips.
"By the way, how is Babette?"

Annie’s anger fell like a vase of flowers from a
second story window. "She’s dead," came the almost
whispered reply.

Annie now had the attention of everyone in the room.
Lance roused himself out of his thoughts, looking up
from the night table he had been leaning against. Joey
snapped his head around to look at Annie directly, but
still kept his place between JC and the room’s other
two occupants.

JC’s anger melted away. "What? How?"

"She fell out the window of her flat." Annie’s
shoulders shook, remembering that day. "It was a
tragic accident."

"I had no idea. I didn’t know."

A bit of strength returned to her voice. "Apparently,
there are a lot of things that you don’t know."

An awkward silence followed in the next minute, broken
only by the sound of Annie’s CD skipping.

Joey reached over to turn the music off, then faced
the group. "Okay, everyone sit down and we’ll see if
we can’t make some reasonable sense out of this whole
mess." He waited until everyone was settled. "Lance
you go first."

"I walked into Johnny’s office and overhead him
talking to Annie on the phone. He was about to hang up
on her until I took over. She was hysterical, crying,
so I came over to find out what was going on. I was
trying to calm her down when you guys burst in."
Lance’s eyes turned beseechingly to JC, "I should have
told you what was going on when I passed you in the
office, I know that. But I was so caught up in getting
over here before something happened. I guess I wasn’t
thinking straight. I swear, we were just sitting here.
Nothing happened!"

Joey held up a hand to stop Lance before he got
carried away. "Annie, what’s your version?"

"Pretty much like Lance said. I had just gotten some
terrible news about Claude, and I felt that JC would
want to know." Her voice had gotten softer. "No matter
what sort of things had happened between the two of
us. JC loved Claude."

JC stared hard at Annie, fear in his eyes. "What
happened to Claude?"

"He died last night." She whispered, not returning his
gaze.

Tears glistened at the corners of JC’s eyes. "Annie, I
don’t know what to say. He was.. He was so kind to
me."

Lance swallowed once, hard. "Did he suffer?"

"No, the doctors say he went peacefully in his sleep.
Most likely a heart attack."

Joey waited for several moments while everyone let
their grief pour out, himself included. When he was
sure, he could speak without his voice cracking, Joey
looked back at the group. "Okay, JC. Your turn."

JC wiped away a few more tears before turning to
Annie. "Why did you send that package? Did you want to
hurt me on purpose? Why?"

"Again with the package." Annie threw her hands up in
frustration. "I don’t have the slightest idea what
you’re talking about. All I sent was a painting and a
letter."

"What about the photos, the bracelet and the
engagement pictures?"

"What are you talking about? I never saw a bracelet."

JC rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure you didn’t."

"I didn’t!" Annie leapt off the bed. "Don’t you
believe me? Why are you jumping to conclusions with
half-truths?"

"You should know. It seems to be your way of doing
things." JC’s gaze was cold, his anger simmering back
to the surface by degrees.

"What?" Annie put a hand to her forehead. "I’m so
mixed up." She looked in desperation around the room.
"Please doesn’t anyone believe me?" Each face she
peered into gave her the answer.

All of it was too much. Annie collapsed on the floor,
sobbing uncontrollably. In doing so, she had
unconsciously activated, targeted and unleashed the
most devastating weapon the world has ever known.

"Annie, please don’t cry." Joey begged, looking more
that just a little uncomfortable.

Lance had risen from his spot on the table. "Please
stop. We’re sorry."

JC knelt down next to her, wrapping her in his
embrace. Lance took this as the perfect time to leave,
but Joey was a little slow on the uptake. The former
grabbed his arm, slowly pulling him towards the door.
Some papers he had seen on the night table had him
already forming a plan to help JC and Annie. Plus it
would also be his way of apologizing to them both for
his part in all this.

Once the door was securely closed, JC took Annie’s
face in his hands. "Please, he whispered, wiping the
tears away from her eyes with his thumbs. "Talk to
me."

Annie looked deep into his eyes. "I screwed up, didn’t
I? I never had all the facts, but I thought I knew
enough to pronounce you guilty. I’m so sorry." She
placed her hand along his cheek. "It must have hurt
terribly. Trying to convince some pig-headed girl of
the truth and getting nothing but rejection and anger
in return. I know it hurt me just now, when I thought
none of you believed me." She buried her face into his
shoulder. "I’m so very sorry."

JC stared at the top of her head in confusion. "Then
why did you put those photos in that package?"

Annie looked up at him. "But I didn’t. There was just
the painting, no other pictures."

"Then who else could have put them there?"

A look of shocked horror slowly came over Annie’s
face. "Jacques," she whispered incredulously. "I asked
him to mail the package for me."

JC’s face was hard for a moment, but he shook it off.
"Well, that’s at least one less mystery to deal with.
Next question: Why didn’t you answer my letters?"

"What letters?" Annie shook her head. "I never got any
letters."

"I wrote every day, but they always came back
unopened."

"Jacques was supposed to be getting my mail for me
while I was staying with Claude." Annie’s eyes
narrowed.

JC took her hand in his. "Annie those pictures of me
and Babette they aren’t real. All those things…I never
did any of them." He studied her face. "Didn’t you
look at them?"

"I did, but all I could see was what Babette wanted me
to see. Not the truth."

His face became even more serious. "What about the
engagement pictures?"

"Engagement pictures?"

"The package had pictures of Jacques putting a ring on
your finger, then of him hugging you in an airport."

"Jacques asked me to marry him before I left for
America. I said no, but he asked me to slip the ring
on for a few moments to make him happy." Annie shook
her head in disbelief. "Someone must have been there
to take pictures of it."

JC smiled. "On the home stretch now. Final question:
What about the bracelet?"

"Bracelet?"

"This one." JC procured it from his back pocket.

"It’s beautiful." She whispered, running a finger over
its surface. The bracelet was gold with their names
etched into it between two hearts. "But this is the
first time I’ve seen it."

"I was going to give it to you that day. Will you wear
it?"


"Of course. Could you please put it on me?" Annie
waited patiently until he was done, then looked at it
on her wrist. "Josh, I’m never gonna take this off."

"Annie?"

"Yes?"

"How about we start over? Like all the terrible things
that have happened never did, and we’re strangers
meeting for the first time."

Annie laughed. "Sounds like a great idea. I’ll go
first." She stuck out her hand. "How do you do? I
don’t believe we’ve met before."

JC took her hand and kissed it. "I certainly wouldn’t
forget if I’d met an angel like you before."

She laughed harder. "Okay, maybe not that far." She
mussed up his hair.

"You’re a hopeless romantic emphasis on the hopeless
part." Another giggle. "That was one of the worst
pick-up lines I’ve ever heard in my life."

JC smiled. "Okay then how about this one?"

ONE HOUR LATER

Lance and Joey stood outside the door, arguing softly.

"Just leave them alone, man." Joey stood in front of
the door, arms folded over his chest. "They’re
probably going to be busy for a while. Give them some
space."

Lance shook his head in disgust. "First of all, this
is important enough to interrupt all that. Second, I
can practically guarantee you that they’re not doing
anything in there any more censored than "The Lion
King." Third, I don’t intend to just leave his bag
sitting here in the hallway."

"Look, I know it’s important, but I still think they
need a bit more time to themselves. We can come back
in a few more hours."

"Why don’t you just knock on the door? If they’re not
doing anything, it’ll open up pretty quick. If they
are, I’ll admit you were right and we’ll come back
later."

Joey stared at him a moment longer, then sighed and
knocked softly on the door. "If JC comes to the door
half-naked with a blanket around his waist, I’ll make
sure you never live it down for the rest of your
natural life."

Fortunately for Lance, JC answered the door right
away, fully clothed and without a blanket. He motioned
them in, signaling them to be quiet. They saw Annie
asleep on the bed, also fully clothed. She must have
gotten enough time to change out of the robe.

"She fell asleep about ten minutes ago." JC whispered
as he quietly shut the door. "She’s completely
exhausted, poor thing."

Joey handed JC two plane tickets for Paris while Lance
set JC’s travel bag down gently on the floor by the
dresser.

JC stared at the tickets as if they were going to bite
him. "What’s this?"

Joey gave him his characteristic grin. "Johnny’s
arranged everything. Due to Lance’s quick thinking and
good memory for numbers, we got in touch with Annie’s
new boss. He’s granted her some time off for the next
week and we’ll be putting things on hold for you."

I still don’t_"

"You two are going to Claude’s funeral, then you’re
going to have a little make-up time to get any
lingering problems cleared up." Joey slipped into his
best "Tour-guide" mode. "First thing in the morning, a
limo will come pick you two up and take you to the
airport. TJ will be following along as both bodyguard
and chaperone. Once there, you’ll be staying at a Four
Seasons Hotel in Paris." He winked at JC. "Johnny says
it’s all on him, so go enjoy yourselves. We’ll talk to
you when you get back."

"Tell Johnny thanks for me." JC turned towards Lance.
"Hey man, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to freak out on you
like that." He extended his hand. "Still friends?"

Lance took it warmly. "Of course, And hey, don’t
worry. I’d fight for her too, if she was my girl. No
hard feelings." He smiled. "But you better take care
of her, and I mean that."

"I will."

Joey and Lance turned to leave. "Safe journey. I’ll be
praying for you guys," the latter said over his
shoulder as they shut the door.

"Thanks."

JC walked over to the bed and gently kissed Annie on
the forehead. She woke up smiling as she saw his face.

"You’ll never believe this," he whispered, hiding the
tickets behind his back.

Paris - Chapter Twelve

FLASHBACK

Annie, JC and TJ boarded the plane early in the
morning and settled into the 1st class seats Johnny
had been kind enough to buy for them. (Lou would have
been appalled at all the money being spent. It didn’t
matter to Johnny, though; he figured he could always
find somewhere else to balance it out.)

Annie called the aisle seat before they even boarded,
so she’d have room to stretch her long legs. JC
didn’t mind, he liked looking out the window anyway.
TJ settled in nearby across the aisle from them.

No sooner had the plane lifted off, the former two
fell asleep. They’d been awake almost the entire
night before, talking and repeatedly apologizing to
each other. Not to mention that the past few days had
been extremely draining for Annie, both physically and
emotionally. Since they both had a habit of escaping
into sleep when the world got a little too big, and
this definitely qualified as one of those times, they
were out quicker than a string of Christmas lights
from the Wal-Mart bargain bin.

Annie eventually wound up cuddled with JC. Her head
rested on his shoulder, hair falling into her face.
Her right hand was splayed across his chest, where he
held it in his own.

Aside from getting one of those cool little blankets
that a passing flight attendant had been kind enough
to cover them with, the trip was fairly uneventful.
Nevertheless, they were grateful when they finally
landed at Charles De Gaulle airport. After going
through the usual rigamarole of customs and hunting
down AWOL luggage, they started towards the hotel.

Annie remained strangely quiet through most of the
ride. JC and TJ had been discussing plans when the
former turned to her. "Annie, is that all right with
you?" She was staring out the window and didn’t seem
to hear him, so he shook her gently by the shoulder.
"Annie?"

His touch seemed to startle her; Annie gave out a
little yelp. "Sorry." She laughed weakly. "My mind
was wandering. What was it?"

"I said, once we get to the hotel, we’’ll unpack and
try to get something to eat. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure." She had turned back to the window.

"Annie, is anything wrong?"

"Huh?" Annie pulled herself back from the window a
second time. "Oh, no. I’m just having a hard time
concentrating." She smiled. "Maybe it’s jet lag. I
have been crossing the Atlantic quite a few times over
the last few days, you know."

The trio finally arrived at the hotel and checked in.
In the elevator on the way to their rooms, JC turned
to Annie again. "When you get to your room, make sure
to unlock your side of the connecting door. Then we
can go back and forth without having to go into the
hall."

Annie seemed to be fascinated by the pattern of the
carpet in the elevator. She was staring at it
intently. JC shook her shoulder, once again drawing a
little shout of surprise. "Annie?"

"Yeah, unlock the door. Got it."

After unpacking JC knocked on the adjourning door
between their two room. Receiving no answer, he tried
the door. It opened right up, so he went in anyway.
"Annie, you should come see this view. It’s amazing!"

He trailed off when he came inside. Annie’s bags were
still by the door, unpacked. She was sound asleep on
the bed, her coat and shoes still securely on her
body.

"Annie," he whispered, shaking her gently. "We have
to call Jacques, and you haven’t even unpacked. You
can’t go to sleep yet."

Annie blinked awake. "What? Where? Oh right,
Jacques." She sat up slightly.

"His number’s in my purse. Why don’t you call him?"

"Are you sure?" JC certainly didn’t sound like he was
thrilled at the idea.

"Yeah." She settled down to sleep, then popped right
back up again. "Oh wait, you need the number." Annie
unceremoniously dumped the entire contents of her
purse on the bed, then tore through the resulting
chaos. Several minutes later, she came up with a slip
of paper, which she handed to him. "Here."

With that, she fell back on the bed, instantly falling
back to sleep.

JC sensed that it would be useless to try and wake
her, even more so to point out that he didn’t really
think that he should be the one making the call, so he
simply shrugged his shoulders. Something definitely
wasn’t right with Annie; he would deal with that
situation after the phone call.

JC dialed the number carefully to make sure he didn’t
get the wrong person. After only one ring, someone
picked up. ("Garçon’s Art Shoppe"), answered a very
familiar voice in a friendly manner.

"Hello Jacques, It’s JC."

There was a sudden clatter on the other end, then
Jacques speaking quietly in annoyed French. The phone
made several thuds before it quieted down. Still,
Jacques didn’t talk.

"Jacques?" JC asked, wondering what had happened.
"Are you still there?"

"Yes," the other man stammered. "Just dropped the
phone. Sorry" Jacques cleared his throat. "To what
do I owe the pleasure of this little call?" He was
trying to sound bored and self-assured at the same
time, a rare trick only the French are capable of
puling off. However, underneath the words he sounded
rather nervous.

JC chose to ignore his tone and continued. "Trust me,
it’s not that I really want to talk to you, but Annie
asked me to call you. Just to let you know, we’re
planning to come over tomorrow so you can give us
details about the service for Claude."

"To-tomorrow?" Jacques seemed infinitely confused.
"But how is that possible? I just talked to her in
America the other day. Where are you two?"

"Checked in at the 4 Seasons Hotel in Paris about two
hours ago."

Jacques voice suddenly seemed filled with hope. "Can
I speak to Annie?" Is she there?"

A very evil and not nice idea came into JC’s head,
which he decided to go with. "Sorry." he confessed
with his best
`I’m-the-most-innocent-boy-in-the-whole-wide-world’
voice, "but she’s asleep in bed next to me and I’d
really hate to wake her. Plus, it’s probably a whole
lot more restful for her than the night before, what
with her tossing and turning half the night."

JC looked at his watch and realized what time it was.
"I hate to cut this short, but I think I’m ready to
nod off as well." He smiled at the thought of the
look on Jacques face. "Long flight, you know how it
goes. Anyway, we’ll see you tomorrow at around 10.
Bye." Without giving Jacques a chance to answer or
say anything, JC hung up. He realized that it had been
a rather nasty thing to do, but also Jacques didn’t
really deserve a lot of courtesy at the moment.

"JC wait!"

Jacques tried desperately to keep JC on the phone, but
was rewarded with only a dial tone. He had no idea
how long he remained standing there, still holding the
receiver to his ear, when he heard someone clearing
their throat.

Startled, he dropped the phone a second time and
turned to see a little old lady standing in front of
the counter, a small painting in her hand.

Quickly, he tried to compose himself. ("May I help
you, Madam?")

She smiled back at him. ("Girl trouble?")

He was caught off guard by the comment. ("What?")

("The person you were talking to on the phone.") The
woman gave him a knowing wink. ("Seems like she’s
playing hard to get.")

Jacques cleared his throat nervously and tried to
smile back at her. ("Well, you know how it goes. Can
I help you with that?") he asked, indicating the
picture she carried.

("Thank you.")

As Jacques went through the usual run of completing
the sale; his thoughts turned themselves over and over
in his mind. ‘This was a
nightmare! Not only did I lose Grandpere, but now JC
and Annie are back
together. Worst of all, they’re here!’

("Are you going to be paying with cash or credit?")
‘What should I do?’

Jacques waited while the register connected to the
bank, checking on the woman’s credit card.

‘Are they angry? Do they know what I did? No. They
couldn’t. JC seemed perfectly civil on the phone.
Maybe they really are just here because of their love
for Claude.’

He handed the receipt to the woman to sign, waiting
while she searched for a pen in her purse.

‘Still Annie lying in a bed next to JC.’

("Young man.")

Jacques jumped and turned to the woman. ("I’m sorry.
What was that?")

("I asked you if you had a pen I could use.")

("Oh, of course.") He quickly found one and handed it
to her. ("Here you go.")

The woman signed the receipt and left, leaving Jacques
alone in the shop. He heard a beeping and looked down
at the floor where it was coming from. There was the
phone; he still hadn’t hung it up yet.

As he reached for it, his thoughts once more rang out.
‘No, Annie and JC are here to support me in my hour
of need. They couldn’t possibly know exactly what I
have done. A small smile came to his lips. And
Babette
can’t tell them anything now. ’ He hung up the phone,
then turned with a smile as his next customer entered.

JC hung up the phone and then turned his attention to
Annie. Not wanting to wake her again, he gently took
off her coat and shoes. As he reached for her socks,
JC’s hand brushed her skin. He was surprised at how
warm it seemed.

JC put his hand to Annie’s forehead and almost jerked
it back. Her skin felt like it was on fire! Was it a
fever? Worried, the young man left to find TJ. No
sooner had he left, Annie awoke. "Oh crap," she
thought, putting a hand to her face. "What’s wrong
with me?" A rising, bitter taste started building in
her throat. "I’m going to be sick!" With shaky legs,
she managed to stumble into the bathroom, somehow
shutting the door behind her.

JC and TJ entered just in time to see the door
slamming closed. The former ran to the door, knocking
on it with his palm. "Annie! Are you all right??!
Answer me!" The only answer he received was the sound
of vomiting.

After what seemed like an eternity, the sound of a
toilet flushing and then the sound of water in the
sink, Annie opened the door looking absolutely
horrendous. Her hair was plastered down with sweat,
brushed back from her pale face. Her hazel eyes
looked like they had sunken into her skull, giving JC
the eerie impression of black holes in a white
hospital sheet.

"Josh, please help me," Annie gasped, pleadingly.
"The room is spinning and I think I think I am going
to" Before she could finish the sentence, her eyes
rolled up into her head and she began to fall.

JC rushed forward and caught her before she hit the
floor, then carried her over to the bed. As he set her
down on the bed, JC placed one hand on the side of her
face. Her skin felt like she’d been locked in a
tanning bed for three days with the setting on
"Jamaican."

TJ put a hand on JC’s shoulder. "Stay here with her.
I’ll call the front desk and see if they can hunt down
a doctor."

After a rather rushed phone conversation and several
minutes of anxious waiting, there was a quiet knock on
the door. TJ opened the door to find a severe young
man with very ordinary features carrying a small black
bag.

The man nodded once. "Hello, I’m Doctor Smith." He
walked swiftly in as soon as TJ moved aside, looking
around the room. "What appears to be the problem?"

JC looked up from the side of the bed, a wet cloth in
his hand. He had been mopping Annie’s forehead with
it. "Well sir," he said, rising and moving aside.
"She’s been sleeping almost the entire time since we
checked in, about two hours ago."

The doctor knelt at Annie’s side and took her wrist.
"What are her symptoms?"

"She threw up a few minutes ago, then she fainted."
JC paused, his voice worried. "I think she’s running
a fever."

Dr. Smith put a hand to Annie’s forehead. "She is."
He glanced at his watch. "And her pulse is racing."
He reached into his bag and retrieved a thermometer,
which he placed in her mouth. "You said you arrived a
few hours ago. How did you arrive?"

"We flew in." JC stuttered, caught slightly off guard
by the question. "Flight 821 from Orlando."

Dr. Smith turned to him. "Did the young lady have
anything to eat on the plane?"

"Well, let me think., She had the fish, I think, but
only a little. She took a few bites, said it tasted
funny and didn’t eat anymore."

The doctor nodded. "That fits the profile. A number
of passengers from that flight got sick." The doctor
took the thermometer and looked at it. "Seems the
fish was bad." he turned and gave JC a half
reassuring grin. "She just has a bad case of food
poisoning."

JC felt slightly disturbed by the doctor’s
nonchalance. "What should we do for her?"

"There’s not really much you can do." Dr Smith packed
up his things. "It basically has to run its course.
Keep using cool towels to keep her fever under
control, but don’t let her get chilled." He took the
cloth JC had been using earlier and placed it on
Annie’s forehead. "Also, see if you can get her to
drink some water. The last thing we need is for her
to get dehydrated."

Dr. Smith stood up. "Call me in the morning and let
me know how she is. However, I don’t anticipate any
problems." He placed a hand on her head. "She seems
like a healthy girl."

Annie eyes fluttered open at that point, and she
looked blearily around the room. "Oh doctor," she
whispered quietly.

He looked at her expectantly. "Yes, miss?"

"Come here," she motioned to him. "I want to tell
you something."

Dr Smith leaned closer to her. She whispered in his
ear, causing the young man to blush. He straightened
up and turned to JC. "Uh, is is she known for telling
off-color stories?"

"Of course not!"

The doctor nodded. "Then, she might be delirious as
well. With this high of a fever, it’s quite possible."
His blush deepened. "She just told me a very raunchy
joke in French."

JC’s mouth practically dropped open in disbelief.
"She what?" TJ put a hand over his own mouth to
stifle a laugh.

The doctor looked at JC. "I take it such behavior is
unusual for her?"

"Yes, very much so, I’d say."

Dr. Smith shook his head. "Just watch her and call me
tomorrow." He went to the door, turning before he left
to say "Good Luck" over his shoulder.

"Thank you." TJ said to the doctor as he shut the
door, then turned to JC.

"TJ," the latter said, dabbing Annie’s face with the
cloth, "I think I’ll stay here with Annie for awhile.
Why don’t you get some sleep?"

The large man nodded. "Okay. Just let me know if you
need anything." He left the room closing the door
quietly.

JC had just sat down on the bed when he felt an arm
fall across his shoulder. "Hi sailor," Annie’s voice
purred in his ear. "New in town?" She leaned in
closer. "Want to hear a joke?" She proceeded to tell
him something very quietly and seductively in Spanish.
At least, he thought it was Spanish. He had no idea
how to tell different languages apart. Besides, the
only Spanish he knew he had learned from eight grade
language class; so his only real use of the language
was that he remembered how to say "I like the beach"
and that Speedy Gonzales always went "Arriba, arriba,
andela!" right before he took of. `Man, that mouse
was fast.’

JC roused himself from his thoughts. "Sorry," he
smiled at her. "I don’t understand Spanish."

Annie grinned at him maniacally. "Then how about one
in Italian? They have the very best and some of the
sexiest stories."

"Nope, sorry again." He kept the smile going somehow.
"Afraid I don’t know that one either."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Well, what do you
know?" she pouted.

"Just English."

"Oh, how very boring." Annie smiled devilishly.
"Want to hear a rhyme about a guy from Nantucket?"

Luckily, JC was already familiar with that one, so he
knew better than to accept. "No thank you," he
replied, the smile plastered to his face like a mask.

Annie cuffed him lightly on the back of the head.
"You sure are an old stick in the mud." She sighed.
"Well, what do you want to do?"

"I’m thinking that maybe we should try and get some
sleep."

"Do you mean sleep or," she licked his ear. "sleep?"

"Annie, please," the smile had dropped from JC’s
voice as well as his face.

"Please what?"

JC was actually starting to get slightly annoyed with
the riddles Annie had decided to speak in. Suddenly
her hands were lifting up his shirt, slowly.

He jerked away from her. "What are you doing?!"

"I just want to look," she whispered, a dreamy look
in her eyes. "I promise not to touch."

"Annie, you don’t know what you’re doing. Please
stop."

She stuck out her lower lip. "But I need you." She
leaned closer. "I want you." She put her hand on his
thigh. "I want you to do bad things to me."

"Annie, you’re not thinking clearly." JC plucked her
hand off his leg. "You’re feverish right now, and I
think it’s clouding your judgment."

"Oh, I’m feverish all right." Annie tried to put his
hand down her shirt. "Can’t you feel how hot I am?"

JC pulled his hand away, cradling it to his chest.
"Annie, as tempting as your offer is, I will not, I
repeat, will not take advantage of you in this
condition." He looked desperately into her eyes.
"Besides, our promise-"

"Promise, shomise," she interrupted, her hands going
to the top button of her shirt. "Let’s do it!"

JC grabbed her hand firmly. "Annie! Stop right now!"

Annie stopped, staring blankly into his face for a
brief moment before fainting dead way. Relieved
beyond words, JC got her back under the covers, then
laid down beside her. It turned out to be a very long
night, but at least there was no more incidents like
this one.

The next morning, JC woke to find that Annie was cool
to the touch. It meant her fever had finally broken,
filling him with a deep sense of relief.

"JC?"

Annie was awake! JC turned to her. "Hey."

"Could I have a glass of water please?"

"Sure."

JC got her a glass of water and helped her drink half
of it. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better. But I don’t remember a lot of what
happened after we got into the room. It’s a big blank
until just now when I woke up." She looked at him
over the top of the water glass. "What happened to
me?"

"You had a pretty bad case of food poisoning and were
running a very high fever." He set the glass down.
"That reminds me, I need to call the doctor and let
him know you’re feeling better."

As he reached for the phone, JC felt Annie’s hand on
his shoulder. "Oh no, not this again."

"Did anything else happen?" she asked quietly.

"No, not really." He turned to her. "Why do you
ask?"

"I’m not sure. I just have vague images, nothing
concrete." Annie looked into her eyes. "Did I try to
seduce you??"

"Well, if you want to know the truth."

"I do."

"Then yes, you did." JC held up one hand
reassuringly. "But I resisted. You didn’t succeed."
He smiled a bit at the memory of it, now that Annie
seemed to be getting better. "Actually, I turned you
down and then you passed out."

"Oh, that must have been attractive." Annie rolled
her eyes, then caught a look at herself in a mirror.
"Holy hell, look at me!" she whispered in awe. "In
this state of ‘attractiveness’, I don’t think even an
inmate in solitary would have the guts to lay me
down." She shooed him away. "Now get out of here
while I try to fix this little train-wreck."

About 45 minutes later, Annie reappeared. She was
showered, shampooed and had changed into fresh
clothes. Her face was still pale but didn’t have the
same "I’m dead, bury me now" look it had carried the
night before. "Did anyone think to call Jacques? We
should have done that last night as soon as we checked
in."

"I called him last night."

Annie gave him a look of surprise. "You did? Well,
how did it go?" A smile curved her lips. "Was there a
scene?"

JC shook his head. "No, I thought I was rather polite
and civil." He returned her smile. "Although, to be
honest, I felt like reaching through the phone and
throttling him."

"Well, that mature." She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Shall we go see him now?"

"No," He placed both hands on her shoulders. "You’re
going to stay here."

"But why? I need to go, act as referee. Besides,"
the grin returned to her face. "I might want to
throttle him too."

"Which is exactly why you’re not going." JC touched
her hair reassuringly. TJ and I can handle this. And
I promise not to hurt him."

"I’ll see to that."

Both of them jumped at the sound of a third voice and
turned to see TJ standing in the doorway, arms crossed
over his chest. They had been so absorbed in their
conversation, they hadn’t even heard him open the
door.

Annie looked at the bodyguard seriously. "You sure?"

JC nodded, touching her face. "Of course. You stay
here and rest." He kissed her softly on the tip of
her nose. "We’ll be back in a little while, okay?"

After making sure Annie would be fine and had
everything she needed, JC and TJ went out the door to
Jacques’.

Paris - Chapter Thirteen

FLASHBACK

TJ and JC arrived at the shop just as Jacques was
finishing up with a
customer. He looked up when he heard the bell on the
door ring and was
rewarded with his first impression of TJ. The man was
easily over six feet
tall and built like a wrestler; he took up most of the
store’s doorway.
With light hair, dark eyes and nondescript clothes, he
seemed the type of
man who could come out of nowhere, pummel someone to
within an inch of their life and then fade back into
the crowd with no trouble whatsoever.

This idea made Jacques’ throat very dry. Had JC
brought this mountain of a man to beat him up?

"Merci ma’am Please come again," Jacques squeaked
out as the woman left the store. Now he was
completely alone with JC and this behemoth.
Nonetheless, he cleared his throat and came out around
the counter to meet them. "Hello JC It’s good to see
you." He came towards them with hand extended.

JC just stared at Jacques’ hand for a moment, then met
his eyes. "Is it?"

Jacques lowered his hand, a nervous smile wavering on
his face. "Of
course it is." He peered over J’s shoulder. "Where’s
Annie?" The fact that she wasn’t here with him might
be a good thing.

"She’s back at the hotel." JC answered mildly,
glancing around at some of the newer paintings. "She
wanted to come, but she wasn’t feeling too well." He
moved closer to a landscape that hadn’t been in the
shop last time. "Something she ate."

"I hope it’s nothing serious." Jacques seemed
genuinely concerned, but it
was more than a little disconcerting to have a
conversation with someone
when they weren’t facing you.

"No, she’ll be well enough by tomorrow." JC turned
around again.
"Actually, that’s why we’re here. What time is the
service tomorrow?"

"One o’clock. We can meet here, then head over there
together. Afterwards, everyone is gathering at Pepe’s
for a celebration of Grandpere’s life." Jacques eyed
TJ suspiciously. "Of course, Your friend is more than
welcome to tag along."

JC caught the edge in Jacques’ voice. "Oh, I’m
sorry. Where are my
manners?" He moved aside to let the two men shake
hands. "This is TJ, my bodyguard."

Jacques stiffened visibly. "Bodyguard?" A sardonic
grin spread across his face. "What, did you bring him
along to beat me up?"

"No. He’s here to keep me from pounding the living
crap out of you."

A crazed look flashed in Jacques’ eyes. "C’mon, I’m
not afraid of either
one of you." He raised his fists in an almost comic
parody of a small child
on a playground standing up to a bully. "Let’s go."

JC just stared at him. "No," he said after a few
silent moments.

"Chicken?" Jacques jeered.

He took a deep breath, hesitating for a few moments.
He knew that TJ was tense, ready to leap in at the
slightest advance on Jacques’ part. JC let out the
breath, focused on Jacques. "No. I made a promise to
Annie that I wouldn’t hurt you."

The crazed look only seemed to grow in Jacques’ face.
"Then she does care!" He clenched one fist. "I knew
it!"

"Listen Jacques." JC took a step forward. "I hate to
burst your little
fantasy bubble, but Annie was considering whacking you
herself."

He seemed confused now. "But why?"

"She knows."

Jacques face went a deadly white as he slowly lowered
his fists. "You
mean?"

JC nodded. "Everything. Babette’s faked pictures,
the phony engagement photo, even the bracelet." He
couldn’t contain a mean-spirited smile. "Which by the
way, is at this very moment on her wrist." The smile
dropped away. "It’s over." His face grew
contemplative. "The only thing we can’t figure out is
how Babette managed to take the pictures, but I’m sure
it’ll come to us eventually." He looked at Jacques
hard. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Of course not. Why would I?" His anger spent,
Jacques slumped into a
chair by the counter, holding his head and staring at
the floor. He looked
so pathetic that JC’s irritation left him. Softer
now, in a more gentle voice, JC questioned him.
"Jacques, why?"

Jacques’ shoulders convulsed; he was crying. "I loved
- love - her," he
sobbed. "I always have, but she didn’t love me the
same way." He ran a
hand through his hair. "I was hoping to convince her,
but you showed up." He sighed. "I realize now that
it was always a losing battle. And that old saying
‘All’s fair in love and war’ just isn’t true."

A measure of anger came back into JC’s voice. "No,
especially when one of the injured parties is the
woman you supposedly love."

Jacques straightened in his chair, wiped his eyes.
"Grandpere was right,
you two belong together. I was a fool thinking
otherwise." He looked up at JC. "Can you forgive
me?"

JC came forward and extended his hand. Jacques took
it slowly, then shook it. "It may take a while," the
former said, breaking off, "but I’ll try.
To do anything else would be to dishonor Claude’s
memory."

Jacques managed a shaky smile. "Thanks."

JC turned to leave. "We’ll see you tomorrow at
12:30."

"Sure. See you then."

"Bye." With that, he and TJ left the shop, the bell
ringing softly to mark
their passing. Jacques remained seated, staring at
the floor. After a few
moments, his shoulders started shaking. Anyone walking
in at that moment would have thought him to be
crying. But then, a chuckle could be heard in the
room, very soft.

"So," Jacques whispered, humor tinting his words,
"They haven’t really
figured everything out yet. They don’t know what I
really did." The laugh
escaped his lips. "Babette was so easy to play.
Delusional, paranoid,
stupid little bitch." Another laugh, louder. "Easy."

***********************

As JC walked into the room, Annie got up from the bed
where she’d been
reading. Going over to him, she wrapped one hand
around his waist. "Do I need to inspect you for
bruises?"

JC chuckled, kissing the tip of her nose. "No need, I
believe I was quite
civil." He grinned at her devilishly. "Although the
idea of an inspection
is very tempting."

She cuffed him lightly upside the head. "C’mon, be
serious for a moment.
What happened with Jacques?"

"Well, aside from the fact that you have one of the
most obsessive people
I’ve ever met stalking after you, we managed to clear
quite a few things up between us." JC grew
thoughtful. "I think I got through to him, at any
rate, he apologized and told us the time to show up
tomorrow."

"That’s good I guess." The idea of Jacques being
obsessed with her didn’t sit too well in her mind.
"Anyway, I guess that’ll make things less awkward
tomorrow at the service. Now." Annie put on her best
pouty look. "Why were you so late getting back?"

"We had an errand to run." he replied, nimbly
avoiding giving away the
surprise he had planned. "I’ll tell you more about it
tomorrow." He smiled
at her, loving how cute she looked when she was
pouting. "Okay?"

Annie smiled back. "Sure."

TJ cleared his throat, drawing their attention. He was
standing in the
doorway, which made them wonder when he’d shown up
there. For such a big man, TJ was very stealthy.
"Well, we have the rest of the day free. What would
you like to do?"

JC and Annie grinned at each other.

"Art Museum?"

"Art Museum."

"Guess that settles it," TJ muttered with a shake of
his head, smiling.

They gathered up their things and spent the rest of
the day at the Louvre.

Paris - Chapter Fourteen

FLASHBACK

The following morning broke sunny and unusually warm
for the time of year. JC ordered fresh fruit,
croissants, coffee and tea, then joined Annie on the
terrace of their hotel suite. It was the perfect way
to begin what was sure to be a most trying and
emotionally draining day for both of them.

As they were eating, TJ appeared silently at the
French doors and cleared his throat quietly. "I just
took a call from Jacques."

"What’d he have to say?" JC asked around the last
mouthful of his apple.

Apparently, Claude left specific instructions that no
black was to be worn at his funeral." TJ cleared his
throat a second time. "Since it’s supposed to be a day
of celebration instead of mourning, he requested only
bright and colorful clothes."

When they had finished eating, they went back to their
respective rooms to get changed. Several minutes
later, JC knocked softly on Annie’s door. He had on
beige cargo pants and a teal colored shirt. "Hey, you
ready?"

Annie opened the door and let him inside. Almost. Come
on in while I finish up."

She closed the door and went back to the mirror, hands
in her hair. She was wearing a rust-colored vintage
dress that looked like something from the 1940’s which
she had picked up at a Paris thrift shop several
months ago.

Annie pulled the last bits of hair away from her face,
holding it back with another clip. Once secured, she
let it flow loosely down her back with the rest of her
hair.

In the mirror’s reflection, JC saw she was wearing
both her filigree cross and Marie’s locket around her
neck, while the bracelet he had given her clung to her
left wrist.

JC took a deep breath, completely floored by how
stunning she looked. He walked up behind her and
hugged her around the waist. Taking her hand, he
kissed the palm of it. "You look absolutely amazing."

"Thank you," she replied softly, staring at his
reflection. Then she laughed. "You look fantastic. Who
would've thought you'd clean up so well?"

"Thank you," he answered, kissing her palm again.

Annie turned to face him, looking disappointed. "Why
the hand kiss?" she pouted, sticking out her lower
lip.

JC leaned close, brushing her nose with his. "Because
if I kiss you on the lips, I won’t want to stop and
then we’ll never get to the service."

"Oh," she whispered breathlessly, blushing slightly as
she met his gaze.

Just then, TJ poked his head into the room. "Ready to
go?"

"Sure," JC smiled easily, puling back from Annie.
Giving her hand one last kiss as he stared into her
eyes, he offered his arm to escort her. She took it,
still blushing and allowed herself to be led to the
waiting car.

************************

At the Art Shoppe, Annie stood on the sidewalk staring
at the door. She hesitated then slowly turned to walk
back towards it. Just in front of the door, she
stopped and turned back to JC. "This is the first time
I’ll walk into this shop...and not see Claude. I’m not
sure..." her voice trailed off, and a sheen of unshed
tears covered her eyes.

JC gently took hold of her hand. "We’ll go in
together. Okay?"

Taking a deep breath and tightly griping his hand,
Annie nodded. "Okay."

The bell on the door softly jingled as JC and Annie
stepped inside. They were slightly surprised to see
Jacques waiting for them in the center of the room.
The French man tried not to notice JC and Annie
holding hands or the sunlight that reflected off the
bracelet on Annie’s wrist. Instead, he put on his best
hurt look as he greeted them. Considering that he
really did miss his Grandpere, this wasn’t too hard to
pull off.

"Oh Jacques," Annie whispered, releasing JC’s hand and
going over to Jacques. She wrapped her arms around
him, then began to cry the tears which had threatened
to fall earlier. "I’m so sorry," she sobbed softly. "I
miss him terribly."

Jacques held her in his arms, feeling her warmth and
breathing in her signature fragrance. It took all of
his willpower not to kiss her, especially with her so
close, breath touching his cheek...

And yet, she wasn’t his - she belonged to JC. All the
anger, hurt, pain and frustration was almost too much
for even Jacques to hide. He quickly wiped all emotion
off his face as he slowly pulled Annie away from the
embrace.

"I miss him too," he whispered as he wiped her tears
away. "But no more crying," he said, trying to smile
and cheer her up. "Grandpere wants us to celebrate his
life, not mourn the end of it."

"I’ll...I’ll try," she said hesitantly, brushing away
another tear.

JC walked over and hugged Jacques, causing the latter
to tense up slightly. "I’m so sorry for your loss," JC
said quietly. "Claude was a very special man and I
will miss him."

"Thanks," Jacques muttered coldly as he pushed JC
away, then looked to Annie. "Shall we go?"

Annie returned to JC’s side and took his hand. She had
finished crying for now, although her eyes were still
a little red. She smiled softly at Jacques. "We’ll be
waiting outside while you lock up. Do you want to ride
with us?"

"No, thank you." Jacques seemed slightly upset by the
idea. And he was..the thought of riding in such close
proximity to the "happy couple" was more than he
wanted to deal with. "I think I’ll take my own car."

************************

They arrived at the little chapel and went inside.
Everything gave off an aura of quiet beauty and
solitude. The carved stone, the beautiful stained
glass and the polished wooden pews all seemed to join
together in the very epitome of quiet, understated
elegance; a lot like Claude himself.

Annie instantly saw why he had chosen this place.
Everywhere she looked, there were flowers, their
fragrance sweet but not overwhelming. From hidden
speakers, music played quietly. The song was one that
Claude had heard on the radio once and remarked to
Annie that it reminded him of Marie. Listening to the
words, Annie smiled, silently agreeing.

Who can say for certain?
Maybe you’re still here
I feel you all around me
Your memories so clear

Deep in the stillness
I can hear you speak
You’re still an inspiration
Can it be?
That you are mine
Forever love
And you are watching over me from up above

Are you gently sleeping?
Here inside my dream
And isn’t faith believing
All power can’t be seen

As my heart holds you
Just one beat away
I cherish all you gave me everyday
"Cause you are mine
Forever love
Watching me from up above

And I believe
That angels breathe
And that love will live on and never leave

Fly me up
To where you are
Beyond the distance star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile
To know you’re there
A breath always not far
To where you are

I know you’re there
A breath away’s not far
To where you are

Annie was so caught up in the words and emotions of
the song, she didn’t realize until it was over that JC
was behind her, enfolding her in his arms. She turned
to him, staring into his eyes. "I love you," she
whispered quietly, eyes glistening.

JC hugged her close, resting his chin on the top of
her head. "I love you too," he said gently closing his
eyes.

"I really hate to break up this little love scene,"
Jacques interrupted bitterly, "but we need to take our
seats. The service is about to begin."

JC gently released Annie. "Where do you want us?"

’You back in America, far away from Annie and never to
grace my sight ever again for as long as I live,’
Jacques thought venomously, but managed to keep all
trace of his thoughts out of his next words. "I’d like
Annie and you to sit with me. Annie," he said
pointedly, "is like family."

"What about TJ?" JC pressed, choosing to ignore
Jacques second remark.

"I’ll just sit quietly off to one side," TJ put in,
surprising them all. No one had heard the burly man
even approach, until he was right behind him. "I
wouldn’t want to block anyone’s view," he continued,
then turned and looked right at Jacques. "Is that all
right with you?" It was obvious TJ didn’t trust the
French man at all.

"Sure," Jacques answered, somewhat nervously. He tried
to avoid looking directly at TJ, feeling that the big
man could see right through him. ‘I’ll have to be
extra careful around him,’ he thought.

The small convoy of people took their seats at the
front of the chapel. TJ led the way, followed by JC,
Annie and then Jacques, who sat on the aisle.

The organ gently played as the rest of the guests took
their places. While waiting for everything to begin,
JC glanced up towards the pulpit. On a large table,
there were flowers framing a large portrait of Claude
and other mementos of the old man’s life. As JC would
later learn, the picture had been painted by Annie.

There was no casket to be seen, as Claude had
requested that he be cremated. A large urn next to the
portrait held his ashes. He had once said that since
he couldn’t lie next to Marie - he didn‘t even know
where or if she had a burial place - Claude wanted his
ashes scattered over the places they enjoyed during
happier times. Jacques was going to carry out that
final wish later.

The pastor led the assembly in prayer, read some of
Claude’s favorite Bible verses and then everyone sang
a hymn. When the last bit of music faded away, the
pastor looked out over the people. ("If anyone would
like to come say a few words about Claude, they are
welcome to come forward now. There is no special
order, everything is to be very informal.")

Some of Claude’s neighbors got up and spoke about his
quiet dignity and grace. Many had known him since the
war. Annie quietly translated their words for JC.

Pepe spoke of Claude’s friendship and devotion to
Jacques and his "new" granddaughter Annie, how much he
loved them both. He also mentioned how much JC had
come to mean to him.

When Pepe had finished, JC leaned towards Annie.
"Would you please come up with me?" he whispered. "I
want to say something, but I need you to translate for
me." Annie nodded, taking his hand as they squeezed
past Jacques. The French man was quietly seething as
he watched them make their way to the front of the
chapel, but there was nothing he could do. He
certainly couldn't stop them...at least, not without
making a big and rather embarrassing scene. So
instead, he simply sat there, clenching and
unclenching his hands into fists. Glancing over,
Jacques realized that TJ was watching him intently. He
stopped, turning to give the bodyguard a sickly smile
before focusing his attention on Annie.

At the front of the chapel, JC cleared his throat
quietly as he took a piece of paper from his pocket.
He smoothed it out, then removed his reading glasses
from a different pocket. He began reading, slowly.
"Many of you don’t know me, but Claude was a very
special man to me. Unfortunately, our last meeting was
not a pleasant one and I had hoped to one day rectify
that - but it wasn’t meant to be. Claude was one of
the most fascinating people I have ever met. Our first
meeting was memorable-" A hint of amusement entered
JC’s voice. "He accused me of stalking Annie, and
nearly pummeled me with his cane. I apologized, and he
being the man he was...he forgave me. I’ll always
cherish the times we spent together, the things he
taught me." Tears sprang to his eyes, and he looked up
at the ceiling. "Claude, I will try to use everything
I learned from you in my own life. Some day, I hope,
people will look at me and be proud to have known me."

He closed his eyes, sending tears down his cheeks. "I
love you, Claude," JC whispered, then turned to Annie.
"Thank you," he said gently, just as quietly, then
lightly kissed her cheek before returning to his seat.

Annie looked out over the faces gathered and smiled.
"I hope you don’t mind," she began, "but I’ll be
speaking in English. I’ll go slowly for those of you
who need to have my words translated, but I feel more
comfortable speaking in my native tongue. I could go
on for hours about Claude and what he meant to me. How
he took a homesick girl from America into his home and
made her feel so special, such a part of his family.
He was my biggest fan, best cheerleader, but he also
knew when I needed to be sat down and talked to
honestly. He wasn’t one to use fancy words, but I
always knew how much he loved me." She smiled softly.
"Most of the time, I could make him laugh when he was
trying to be ‘so serious’. He was the one who
encouraged me to change majors and knew even before I
did that sculpting was my true calling. I will be
grateful to him forever for that."

Annie cleared her throat, a sheen of tears visible in
her eyes. "Claude had a strength and calmness about
him, and was the most genuine man I have ever know.
There wasn't an ounce of dishonesty anywhere in his
body. I loved him so much..." She wiped a few tears
away, taking a deep breath. After a few moments, she
continued. "Grandpere Claude, may you and your Marie
enjoy the rewards so richly deserved, as you are
together in God’s glorious heaven. I will always
cherish the memories I have of you. I love you so
much..."

Annie had to stop; she couldn’t go on any longer. Her
tears were falling steadily and her breath catching in
her throat as sobs. JC quietly stood up and walked to
her. Sheltering her in his arms, he led her back to
their seats. Once there, he simply held her, stroking
her hair.

It was all Jacques could do just to control his own
shaking, but it wasn’t from grief. He tried to keep
his composure, but the sight of JC comforting Annie
was driving him to distraction.

In this frame of mind, Jacques rose from his seat and
headed to the front of the chapel. Not looking in
Annie and JC’s direction, he launched into a long,
tortuous and melodramatic eulogy of Claude. Most of it
was rambling and at times downright incoherent.
Mercifully, the pastor came over and cut it short.
People shifted nervously in their seats, confused but
passing if off as Jacques’ intense grief over losing
Claude. Annie and JC sat stunned, while TJ became more
concerned with each passing moment about letting the
French man get to close to either of them. The boy
seriously needed help, and not just the "part-time
college students working at his shop" kind of help
either.

After the last hymn played, the service finally ended.
People slowly filtered out, heading for their cars.
Pepe had invited everyone to his restaurant for a meal
and continued celebration of Claude’s life.

Annie saw Jacques sitting on the floor by Claude’s
ashes. She began to walk towards him, but TJ
intercepted her. "Annie, maybe it would be better if
you spoke to him at Pepe’s." The burly man sent a
worried look at Jacques’ back. "He seems..a bit out of
it at the moment."

Confused, Annie nodded slowly. "I understand, I
guess..but I think he needs me right now."

TJ held up a hand. "Trust me, you need to wait."

"All right TJ, I trust you." Annie sighed. I’ll talk
to him at Pepe’s."

JC came up next to her, taking her hand. "Ready to
go?"

"Yeah."

As the two left, TJ turned to look at Jacques. He was
greeted with the most twisted, crazed and hateful
expression he had seen on anyone’s face in a long
time. He even shuddered as he turned and followed
Annie and JC out.

*********************

As Annie and JC arrived at Pepe’s, they were warmly
greeted by some of the staff. Pepe emerged from the
kitchen, hugging them both. "Annie, could you please
join me in the kitchen for a few moments. I have
something to give you."

"Of course." Annie kissed JC’s cheek, then followed
Pepe back.

Pepe and Annie passed through the kitchen into the
former’ office. Once there, he took out an envelope
from his desk and gave it to her. The front was
addressed to her in Claude’s handwriting.

Pepe turned to her. "Annie, Claude mailed this to me
on the night he died. I have no idea what’s inside,
but the other envelope which came with it told me to
hand deliver this to you." He paused, looking
confused. "It also said...for you not to tell Jacques
you received it."

"That’s odd..and not really like Claude." Annie
returned his confused look, taking the envelope. "But
if that’s his wish, then so be it." She slipped it
into her purse after studying the front. "I’ll read it
when we get back to the hotel." She then hugged Pepe
gently. "Thank you. You’re a loyal friend."

Annie and Pepe returned to the dining room just as
Jacques arrived. He watched as Annie crossed over to
JC and whispered something into his ear. The French
man wasn't close enough to hear what she was saying,
but he noticed JC’s eyes widen slightly. Determined to
find out what was going on, Jacques walked over to
them. As he closed in, he realized TJ was right behind
him.

TJ put a hand lightly, but firmly, on Jacques’
shoulder. "Is there something I can help you with?
Something you need?"

"No...no," Jacques muttered under his breath. "I was
just going over to visit Annie and JC."

"Then please," TJ answered with disturbing courtesy,
"Allow me to accompany you."

TJ and Jacques walked over. The latter immediately
focused his attention on Annie. "So, how do you like
the party so far?"

"It’s wonderful, but I’m pretty anxious to catch up
with some of my old friends. It’s been far too long
since I spoke with them." Annie took JC’s hand. "If
you’ll excuse us, Jacques." She smiled. "It’s time for
JC to run the gauntlet and meet new people."

Once they left, Jacques found himself alone with TJ.
nervously, he cleared his throat, uncomfortable under
the bigger man’s gaze. "I think I’ll go see if Pepe
needs any help in he kitchen."

"Fine by me," TJ answered. "I’m not going anywhere."

‘That’s what I’m worried about,’ Jacques thought,
retreating to the kitchen like a frightened squirrel
from a dog.

Later, Pepe watched as Annie led JC around and
introduced him to her many friends. ‘Claude was
right,’ he thought, smiling to himself. ‘They do
belong together. and they make such a beautiful
couple.’ Pepe knew a few of the problems that the two
had faced, but felt that their love was strong enough
to carry them through anything.

As the party dragged on, Jacques glowered from a table
he’d secured for himself, silently plotting the many
ways he would like to dispose of JC. Unfortunately,
none of them seemed practical, and most were downright
illegal. His frustration grew as every minute went by.
Not helping was the fact that every time he got within
three feet of the "love birds", TJ was there. That
giant shadow that just didn’t want to go away.

Finally, the time to say goodbye came. As the party
began to wind down, people slowly started drifting
out. Before leaving, they stopped by to give their
parting condolences to Jacques.

Annie, JC and TJ were among the last to leave. As
Annie said goodbye to the staff and Pepe, Jacques came
over with a box in his hands. while TJ eyed the French
man cautiously, JC recognized the box as the one he’d
seen that first day in Claude’s kitchen.

Annie looked at the box as Jacques held it out for
her. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"Grandpere wanted you to have this," he answered,
motioning for her to take it. "He said that everything
in it, although of little monetary value, was very
special to him. He wanted you to have them."

"Oh Jacques," Annie almost began to cry, feeling
completely overwhelmed as she accepted the box.
Hugging it close, she smiled at him. "I will always
cherish this."

"I know you will." Jacques returned her smile, then
took a deep breath. "Annie, it’s time for us to say
goodbye. I want you to have a happy life." He held up
one finger. "Be sure to write to me occasionally, so I
can know how you’re doing."

TJ listened with interest, but remained silent. Things
seemed normal...but he still felt uneasy around this
man.

Annie nodded to Jacques. "I promise I’ll never forget
you. You will always be a part of my life."

He kept smiling. "That’s all I can hope for."

TJ felt vaguely as if he’d fallen into "The Twilight
Zone." Jacques was acting so calm, so
reasonable...almost too reasonable.

Jacques turned to face his rival. "JC, take good care
of her. She is a very special lady." Then his voice
turned dark and threatening. "And if I ever hear of
you hurting her, I’ll track you down so fast that..."

JC’s face began to grow angry, but Jacques interrupted
him with a high-pitched laugh. "Just kidding!" He held
out his hand for JC to shake, which he did. Squeezing
just a little too tightly, the former gave him an
almost ghastly smile. "Have a happy life."

"Thanks," JC answered, quickly letting go of Jacques’
hand. "I will cherish her...you have my word on that."

Annie chose that moment to intervene. She hugged
Jacques tightly, then spoke directly in his ear. "I’m
so sorry for your loss and many other things, but
sometimes we don’t always get what we wish for. I hope
someday you come to realize that and be happy."
Releasing him, she turned and took JC’s hand.
Together, they turned and left Pepe’s, TJ close
behind.

Jacques stood in the doorway. watching as all three
got into their car. As they drove off, his thoughts
turned in a very dark direction. ‘Annie, you know the
saying "Be careful what you wish for?"’ he thought,
following their vehicle with his eyes. ‘I wish the
same for you....’

"To Where You Are" sung by Josh Groban - Josh Groban
CD music by Richard Marx - Lyrics by Linda Thompson

Paris - Chapter Fifteen

Present Day

Dr. Cassandra Jamieson (or Cassie), as she was known
to her close friends) smiled to herself as she quietly
opened the door to Annie’s room. JC was sprawled in
what looked like a very uncomfortable position in the
chair next to his wife’s bed. He was holding her hand
in his, their fingers intertwined, while a sweet smile
set itself comfortably upon his lips.

At the sound of the door creaking closed, JC’s eyes
opened to half-awake silts. "Oh, hey Cassie," he
mumbled, stretching and trying to rub some life back
into his tired eyes while also stifling a yawn. Truly
an impressive show of multi-tasking.

Shaking herself from the slightly hypnotic spell JC's
eyes were so capable of casting, Cassie walked towards
him. "Sorry JC. I didn’t mean to wake you."

"Oh, that’s okay." He finally finished stretching and
seemed a bit more coherent now. "I wasn’t really
sleeping anyway. Just kind of daydreaming about when I
first met Annie in Paris." He smiled, shaking his
unruly hair. "Maybe I’ll write a book on it someday,
then Lance can produce it as a movie." He laughed.
"Annie and I have definitely had our share of intrigue
and romantic moments."

Cassie smirked, not wanting to disturb Annie. "You
know, you’re one of the most romantic guys I’ve ever
met."

"Yeah, I know," he said with a self depreciating
laugh. "Annie always says that too."

"But I’m pretty sure that she loves you even more
because of it. She’s always saying how much the
special and unique things you do for her make her feel
that much more loved."

"Thanks," he replied, trying to hide the embarrassed
blush he now felt spreading over his face. To rescue
himself, he decided a change of subject was in order.
"Now enough about me." He stood, trying to stretch
some feeling into what was left of his back.

"Cassie, I didn’t know you worked at this hospital."
JC continued when his exercise in futility was
finished - his spine felt like it was about to go on
strike. He had been so intent on trying to convince it
that bending was a good thing, a safe thing, and it
should do what it was made to do or he would think of
something even more painful to do to it that he hadn’t
noticed until now that Cassie was wearing blue
surgical scrubs.

Cassie was a plastic surgeon and had worked at
Restoration Hope with Annie for the past few years. "I
sometimes do an occasional surgery here to help out
some of my former colleagues. Since the one today is
fairly routine, I thought I’d stop in to see you,
Annie and the babies before I’m needed."

"That's cool. By the way, how did you know we were
here?"

"Are you kidding?" Cassie laughed, shaking her head.
"You’re the talk of the hospital."

JC’s face took on the expression most people get when
waging a three-way war between a stiff back, bleary
eyes and general lack of sleep; a rather incoherent
one. "Really?"

"Well, let’s see." Cassie held up her hand to start
counting off fingers.

"One - Lance, I think that’s his name, was sitting for
most of the night in the maternity waiting room with 2
huge teddy bears."

Another finger up. "Two - the nurses at the maternity
station were gushing about the dreamy pop star with
the gorgeous blue eyes who was so wonderfully
supportive of his pregnant wife during the birth of
their twins." Cassie smiled. "You really impressed
them."

JC’s earlier blush seemed a light predawn tease
compared to the one that now spread across his face.

"Three - The ‘green around the gills’, chalky white
face and panicked look when Annie was getting her I.V.
was noted with some degree of amusement." She chuckled
softy at his expression.

"All right, all right," JC raised his hands in
surrender. "So I have a little needle phobia."

"Little?" Cassie looked at him in disbelief. "JC, I
read the article where you talked about your "little"
needle phobia. You need help!"

"Okay, why does everyone always seem to focus on
that," he muttered, getting irritated.

"Hey, calm down. I was only teasing." She glanced at
her watch. "I’d like to take a quick look at the
babies, then I really have to get going."

"Do you want me to wake Annie?"

"No, I’ll stop by later to talk to her. Right now she
needs her rest - she’s been working really hard in the
past few hours."

"She was amazing." JC smiled proudly. "I know I
couldn’t have done what she did." He laughed, shaking
his hand. "You know, I think the blood is finally
coming back to my hand."

They walked over and peered in at the babies. "They’re
so beautiful," Cassie whispered, staring at the twins.
"I’m so happy for you." The quiet moment was broken by
Cassie’s pager vibrating in her pocket. She glanced at
it as she pulled it out, then turned towards him.
"Gotta run," she said quietly. "I’ll be back later."
After giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, she
slipped out of the room.

As the door closed, Annie stirred. "Who was that?" she
asked sleepily, looking at JC.

"Cassie. She stopped in to say hi, but didn't want to
wake you up. Said she'd be back later."

"That’s nice."

The serene moment was broken as the babies began to
fuss.

"Hungry again?" JC chuckled as he made his way to to
their cribs. He glanced back over his shoulder. "Which
one do you want first?"

"Whoever seems the hungriest." Annie smiled as JC
brought over William. "The nursing instructor said
she’d teach me how to nurse them both at the same
time."

He returned her smile. "That should prove
interesting."

No sooner had the babies been fed and changed, then
JC’s and Annie’s folks arrived. There was the usual
oohing and awing, cooing, crying and speculating of
the babies' looks that always happens with new
grandparents. After about an half an hour they left to
set things up at the new parents’ home. Annie’s mother
was going to stay for a few weeks, but if anything
came up afterwards, JC’s parents lived right down the
road.

Joey and Kelly arrived a little while later. Once
again, the conversation centered around the babies.
Joey made a few crude remarks, which earned him a good
smack upside the head from Kelly.

JC took the opportunity to go out, telling Annie he
was going to stop by the house and see that her
parents got settled in. Then he’d shower, change and
come right back. The other reason was because he’d
thought of a wonderful surprise for Annie, but didn’t
want to let her know just yet.

The day dragged along and consisted mostly of well
wishers calling, and flowers and cards being
delivered. TJ had quietly slipped in when no one else
was there and had a nice visit with Annie. As he was
leaving, TJ told her that he would stop by the house
to make sure the infant car seats were properly
installed in JC’s car.

Things just seemed to be settling down when Cassie
finally made it back to the room. She was chatting
with Annie while holding William when JC returned from
his secret mission.

He walked over to Annie’s bed and kissed her, then
gently took Claudine in his arms. "Reach in my
pocket." he said, turning.

She reached in and pulled out a small blue jewelry
box. Opening it, she gasped at first, then started to
cry quietly, one hand to her mouth. "They’re so
beautiful, Jace." He bent down when she motioned him
and kissed her softly. "Thank you," she whispered.

Annie turned the box to show Cassie. Inside were two
sapphire hearts - a pink one and a blue one. Noting
Cassie’s perplexed look, she laughed. "JC gave me a
charm bracelet on our wedding day which has a single
ruby heart. Every year he adds another one to
represent each year of our marriage. These two are for
the babies."

Cassie turned to JC and smiled. "My earlier assessment
is confirmed."

JC blushed as he handed Claudine back to Annie, but
before he had a chance to speak, Justin and Chris came
in the door. They immediately began teasing JC about
the babies, then walked over to hug Annie.

It was only when JC took William from Cassie that they
even became aware of her presence.

Chris wiped his hand on his pants and held it out as
he walked over. "Hi, I’m Chris," he said easily,
smiling.

"Cassie," she replied, taking the proffered hand.

Playfully, Justin shoved Chris aside and grabbed the
now vacated hand for himself. "I’m Justin," he purred,
kissing the back of her hand. "Trust me, you don’t
want to hang out with an old man like Chris now, do
you?"

Cassie was slightly taken aback and was unable to
answer. Annie watched a hurt look spread across Chris’
face. He noticed her watching and quickly slid into a
more neutral expression.

Justin continued his pursuit. "How would you like to
have dinner with me?" Seeing the doubt in her eyes, he
quickly added, "I won’t take no for an answer."

Cassie was at a complete loss. "Yeah, I guess so," she
said quietly, letting go of his hand.

He offered her his arm and escorted the doctor out the
door while Chris stood there completely dumbfounded.

JC walked over and put a hand on the older man’s
shoulder. "Hey, would you like to join us for dinner?
It’s just hospital food, but it’s not really all that
bad."

"Huh?" Chris jerked as if waking up. "No, that's all
right," he added distractedly. "I think I’ll just go
home." He nodded goodbye to them both, then hurried
from the room.

JC joined Annie at her bed, noticing the worried look
on her face. "What’s wrong, baby?"

Annie looked at him with concerned eyes. "Josh, I have
a bad feeling about this."

Paris - Chapter Sixteen

Flashback

On the ride back to the hotel, Annie remained very
quiet. All the emotions that had been evoked in her
by the funeral, combined with the most horrendous case
of food poisoning the world had ever seen (so it
seemed to her, at least) had finally caught up to her.

JC held her close, absentmindedly rubbing her arm with
his hand while she rested her head on his shoulder.
TJ, sensing with his usual uncanny accuracy that they
needed a little alone time, sat up front with the
driver.

When they reached the hotel, JC and Annie rode the
elevator up in silence to their rooms.

Later that night…

Annie sat on the bed, looking at the box and letters
she had taken out of her purse. She had taken a
shower, made a cup of tea and basically done as much
as she could without directly avoiding the articles at
hand. But now she had run out of ideas, but still
avoided opening them. To do so would mean that Claude
was truly gone.

She sighed, brushing aside a rebellious strand of
hair. Now she knew she was probably being slightly
unreasonable, but she couldn’t help it. Maybe having
someone with her would help.

"Hey, Josh!" Annie called; making sure he could hear
her in case he had his stereo turned up again. "Could
you please come in here for a minute?"

"Sure, just a second."

A moment later JC entered. He had changed into
flannel pajama pants and an old T-shirt. Oddly
enough, Annie was wearing almost exactly the same
thing. They looked at each other for a minute without
saying anything before they both burst out laughing.

When he had finished his good little chuckle at their
expense, JC smiled at her. "What can I do for you,
babe?"

Annie was now completely serious. "I’m going to open
Claude’s box and letters, but I don’t want to be
alone. Could you open them with me?"

He crossed the room and sat next to her on the bed.
"Sure. Are you ready?"

Annie looked into his eyes. "Yes, but first…may I
have a kiss for luck?"

"Funny you should ask," he whispered. He leaned over
and kissed her tenderly, then straightened and waited
patiently.

Annie’s hands trembled as she took three envelopes out
of a larger one. Two were addressed to her and one to
Josh. Of Annie’s two, the first said "Box contents’
description" while the other was labeled "Annie
only!" Annie quickly slipped the latter one back into
the big envelope before JC had a chance to see it.
‘I’ll just read that one later,’ she thought.

Annie handed Josh’s envelope to him. After putting on
his glasses, he opened it and read quietly to
himself. When he was done, he reread the important
parts aloud for Annie.

Dear Joshua,
I now know in my heart the truth about Jacques. I am
so very sorry for the pain that he caused both of you,
but it is something I shall have to live with. I can
only apologize that I didn’t pick up on it sooner and
I hope you can forgive me for that.
Joshua, whatever you have to do…do it to get Annie
back. You two are meant to be together, so don’t just
let her push you away. Fight for her. She loves you
so much…why else would she have spent days crying over
you? Why would she still want to send the portrait
she drew? Easy…because she loves you.
In so many ways, you two remind me of myself and my
Marie. Circumstances beyond our control tore us
asunder, and the obstacles you face are pebbles
compared to ours. All you have to do is pick them up
and toss them out of the way.
Josh; in the box I gave Annie you will find two wine
glasses. These are the glasses Marie and I toasted
each other with at our wedding. It is my deepest hope
that one day you will raise these glasses to each
other at your own special day. I probably won’t be
there to see that joyous event, but please think of
me. I shall be there in spirit.
I am getting tired, so I will close for now.
May God truly bless you and Annie. I love you both.

Claude

When he had finished reading, JC and Annie just sat
and held each other for the longest time. No words
would have been nearly sufficient enough to express
their feelings, so they didn’t try. Finally, Annie
wiped her eyes and broke the embrace. "Time to read
mine?"

"Yes," JC whispered, drying his own eyes.

My dearest Annie,
I have said in Josh’s letter the things I wanted to
say to you both about getting back together. I hope
and pray that you two have made up when these letters
are read. This letter is to explain to you the things
in the box. Don’t worry – I have also left family
heirlooms for Jacques. These can only rightly go to
you.
I believe I have already explained the glasses in
Josh’s letter. Next in the box, you should find two
cups and saucers. (Annie carefully unwrapped them.
They were green with lilacs painted on them. She
remembered Claude had said once that lilacs were
Marie’s favorite flowers.) These are "make-up" cups.
Whenever Marie and I had an argument, we would sit
down over a cup of tea, using these cups. Sometimes
we went through many cups of tea. Please use them for
the same purpose. Believe me…they work.
Next, you will find a white linen handkerchief with
the initial M embroidered on it. Marie carried this
on our wedding day. I hope that you will carry it on
yours.
The two books of poetry are ones we bought for each
other. The one in French was my gift to Marie. I
have marked some of her favorite poems. The other one
is Italian love sonnets which Marie gave to me.
Naturally, I have marked my favorites in it as well.
The one on page 93 is what I read to her on our
wedding night.
One last thing. Annie…look inside your locket. I am
sure that you haven’t opened it since you asked me to
fix the loose clasp on that fateful day. If you had,
you would have commented on it.
Annie, I know that I have told you this before, but
you are the granddaughter I never had, so I feel the
need to say it again…I will always love you. I am so
very proud of you and love you so much. When you came
into my life, you renewed my heart and helped me to
heal old wounds.
Love forever and God bless.

Grandpere Claude

Annie went over to the mirror and opened the locket.
Inside was a picture of her and JC dancing at Pepe’s.
It was almost identical to the one of Marie and Claude
on the opposite side of the locket.

She turned and motioned him to her side. "Josh, come
here. You have to see this."

JC came up behind her, placing his arms around her
waist. Looking over her shoulder, he saw the picture
of them in the locket. "It’s beautiful, Annie." He
pulled back her hair, kissing her neck softly. "Now,
I have something for you. Come back and sit down."

Once they were both sitting on the bed, JC cleared his
throat and pulled a piece of paper from his T-shirt
pocket. "I want to read you a poem that I
wrote for you the other night." Putting on his
glasses, he fixed her with a serious gaze. "I worked
really hard on it, so you have to promise not to
laugh."

Annie put up one hand. "Scout’s honor."

JC took a deep breath and began.

I have been blind
Unwilling
To see the true love
You’re giving
I have ignored every blessing
I’m on my knees
Confessing…

That I feel myself surrender
Each time I see your face
I am staggered by your beauty
Your unassuming grace
And I feel my heart is turning
Falling into place
I can’t hide it
Now hear my confession

I have been wrong about you
I thought I was strong without you
For so long
Nothing could move me
For so long
Nothing could change me

Now I feel myself surrender
Each time I see your face
I am captured by your beauty
Your unassuming grace
And I feel my heart is turning
Falling into place
I can’t hide it
Now hear my confession

You are the air I breathe
You’re the ground beneath my feet
When did I stop believing?
‘Cause I feel myself surrender
Each time I see your face
I am staggered by your beauty
And I feel my heart is turning
Falling into place
I can’t hide it
Now hear my confession

I can’t hide
Now hear my confession

JC looked up to see tears streaming down Annie’s
face. He gently wiped the tears from her eyes.
Leaning close to rest his forehead against hers. "I
mean every word of it – you are the love meant for me.
My reason for getting up in the morning. The person
I want to build my world around." He kissed her
eyebrows. "You are my life."

Once Annie had finally stopped crying, they carefully
wrapped up the items and returned them to the package.
JC then snuck back to his room and returned with a
small box, which he handed to Annie.

"What’s this?" she asked, looking at the gift with a
more than slightly confused expression on her face.

"Open it and see." He smiled, motioning for her to go
ahead and open the box.

Annie opened it, then covered her mouth with one
hand. Inside were two sterling silver rings, one
sized for her hand and the other for his. They were
inscribed with the same Hebrew lettering that was on
her locket. It read: "I am my Beloved’s and my
Beloved is mine." It was taken from Solomon’s Song of
Songs, Chapter Two, Verse 16, and it was inscribed on
both of the posey rings.

Annoyingly bold-faced note from the author and editor:

A posey is a short poem inscribed on a ring. This
tradition dates to the Middle Ages and was a very
romantic gift. It further states that words which
touched the skin have a particular power. The
sterling rings were often given as betrothal rings and
replaced with the same ring in gold on the wedding
day.

"Annie," JC whispered, taking her ring out of the
box. "Will you wear this ring as a sign of our
commitment and love? It’s just a "Promise" ring right
now."

"Of course," she answered as he slipped it on her left
hand. Annie then reached in the box and took out his
ring. "Josh? Will you do the same for me?" she
asked, placing his ring on his finger.

"Yes." He kissed her softly. "I love you so much,
Annie."

"I love you too, Josh."

Just then, there was an insistent, paternal knock on
the door. "Hey, I realize that true love is endless,"
TJ’s voice came from the other side of the door, "but
it’s two in the morning and I need my sleep."

"Sorry, TJ," they answered in embarrassed unison.

"Good night Annie. I’ll see you tomorrow." JC kissed
her good-night, then returned to his room before TJ
had to drag him off, shutting the door
behind him.

Needless to say, Annie and JC slept with huge smiles
on their faces that night.

*Usual disclaimer* "My Confession" is sung by Josh
Groban (notice a
pattern here?) It appears on the "Closer" CD, 2003
Little Dume Music/Seven Parks Music

Paris - Chapter Seventeen

Flashback continues

Annie woke around 3 AM, her stomach aching faintly.
‘Guess I’m still not completely over that bad fish
yet,’ she thought sourly, turning on her side. ‘What
a day’.

After tossing around for almost fifteen minutes,
Annie let out an exasperated sigh and flicked on the
light by the bed. ‘No way I’m getting back to sleep
at this rate.’ She flicked the covers off and
wandered over to the coffer maker. After putting
water in it to boil, she fished out a packet of the
tea she’d bought the other day and stuck it in one of
the hotel mugs.

When the tea was ready, Annie made her way back to the
bed, sipping carefully. It helped calm her stomach,
but it would still take a little while until she was
ready to go back to sleep. What to do in the
meantime?

The other envelope! Annie fished around in her purse
until her hand emerged with the second letter that had
been addressed to her alone from Claude. She’d placed
it there after JC had left, just so there would be no
chance of him seeing it till she’d read it. ‘Might as
well read it now,’ she thought, settling back on the
pillows she'd propped up. Claude’s familiar scrawl
graced the front of the envelope, which still smelled
faintly of the older man’s cologne.

Opening it revealed one piece of paper, carefully
folded inside. Annie removed and unfolded it, sipping
her tea as she began to read.

Almost immediately, she stopped drinking. The mug
began to shake violently and Annie had to put it down
on the night stand before she spilled any of the hot
tea on herself or the letter.

Tears began to steam down her face as Claude’s
scrawlings formed a story almost too fantastic to
believe, but one that seemed to draw together the last
few strings.


Flashback - April 1998

Jacques walked slowly down the hallway, glancing back
and forth. He didn’t really like dealing with this
woman, she creeped him out, but things were starting
to move faster than he was comfortable with. Peeking
around the corner, Jacques let out the breath he
didn’t know he’d been holding. The door to Annie’s
flat was shut. Sneaking closer, he put his ear to the
door and listened carefully. He heard music playing,
muffled by the door, but he couldn’t hear any voices.


Nodding to himself, he knocked on the next door over.
After what seemed like an eternity in which Jacques
was certain Annie’s door would open any moment,
Babette poked her head outside. Upon seeing him, she
smiled. ("Well! Been a while since you last came.")
She sneered slightly, tilting her head to the left.
("I suppose you want to come in?")

Jacques pushed past her, kicking the door shut once he
was inside. Taking in her apartment, he grimaced.
("This place still smells like something died in
here.")

("Maybe something has.") Babette pushed past him in a
flurry of frayed skirts and unwashed filth. ("I used
to have a pet rat, you know. His name was.") She
trailed off, staring at the wall without really seeing
it.

He waited for her to finish, but soon realized that
her mind, or rather, what was left of it, had wandered
somewhere it wasn't exactly familiar with and was now
having a hard time finding its way back. Finally,
Jacques cleared his throat in irritation.

Babette jerked, then looked at him and smiled. ("Hi!
When did you get here?")

("Nevermind,") he growled in irritation. ("Look, I
need your help with something.")

("Oooooo,") she breathed, rubbing her grimy hands
together. ("What’re we gonna’ do?")

Jacques considered the best way to approach this next
part, but eventually decided that the simple road was
probably the safest. Looking her in the eye, he
smiled ("We’re going to play a game.")

("A game?") Babette clapped her hands together in
delight. ("I love games! Which one are we playing
today?")

("We’re going to play ‘Model’.")

"’Model’?") She put one finger to the side of her
mouth, tapping it lightly. ("I don’t think I now how
to play that game.") She danced around in a little
circle. ("What are the rules?")

("Just be patience. First, we need the other
player.") He smirked. ("You can’t very well play
this game by yourself, now can you?")

Babette crossed her arms over her chest, sulking. ("I
thought you were going to play.")

("I am, I am. But we need a third player, or else it
won’t be very much fun.")

(So who’s?") Babette was cut off as she heard Annie’s
door open. Rushing to her own door, she pulled it
open a crack and peeked out.

JC was standing in the hallway, outside Annie’s flat,
facing her in the doorway. They kissed softly, then
JC smiled. "I’ll be back next week to say goodbye."

Annie looked slightly pouty. "I know."

JC lifted her chin with his hand. "Not a permanent
goodbye. Just until I can convince the guys that we
need another break in Paris." He then leaned in and
whispered something in Annie’s ear that neither
Babette nor Jacques could hear. Whatever it was, it
made Annie blush slightly and Jacques felt his blood
boiling.

Babette quietly shut the door and turned to face him.
("Can we play with that one?") she begged, jumping up
and down. (Can we, can we? Please?")

He looked at her seriously. ("Do you want to?")

("Yes! Yes!") she was beside herself with delight.
("He’s so pretty. I think he’d have fun playing
‘Model’.")

Jacques smiled softy then, but there no trace of
warmth in it. ("Okay, but first you have to promise
smoothing.")

Babette stamped her foot impatiently. ("Oh, what
now?")

("You have to promise not to tell anyone. If you
do.") He paused for effect, to make sure he had as
much of her full attention as he was likely to get,
before continuing. ("If you tell anyone about this,
I’ll have Jake come and get you.")

All trace of amusement fell from Babette’s face,
replaced with equal swiftness by paralyzing terror.
("You wouldn’t!")

("Wouldn’t I?" You know, he wouldn’t be too happy if
he found out about the games you like to play, the men
you like to play them with.")

She dropped to her knees, tugging at Jacques hands.
("No, no, PLEASE!!! Don’t tell him. I promise to be
a good girl and not tell anyone! I promise! I
promise!") She deteriorated into a heap of sobbing
rags, burying her face in her hands.

Jacques rubbed at his temple. For some reason, dealing
with Babette always gave him a splitting headache, but
they did seem to be getting worse lately. Finally he
nodded. ("Alright, I won’t tell him. Just be ready
next week to play our game. Understand?")

Babette leapt up, seeming completely over the terror
she had felt only seconds before. Only a few unshed
tears shining brightly in her eyes gave any indication
of her earlier fear. ("Okay.") she chirped brightly
opening the door for him. ("I’ll see you then!")

Jacques left quickly down the hall, grateful that
Annie had already gone back into her flat by the time
that Babette had carelessly flung open the door. That
would have spoiled all the fun things he had planned
and that wouldn't do at all. Silently, he ran through
a list of things that needed to be prepared before
next week. Where had he put that camera?

End of flashback

Annie dropped the letter to the floor, her hands
shaking. How could this have happen? Jacques, it had
been Jacques all along. He’d used Babette, lied to
her.

He was the one who had knocked JC unconscious. He was
the one who had taken the pictures. Had he also been
the reason Babette had fallen out of her window? Had
she seen him and thought he was Jake?

Annie took a sip of the now cold tea, trying to calm
her thoughts. It would do no good to call him now,
she still wasn’t completely sure she knew what she’d
say.

Glancing over the letter a second time, she decided to
wait until morning to call. Satisfied with her
decision, Annie poured the cold tea down the drain and
turned off the light. Lying on her side in bed, she
closed her eyes and completely failed to go back to
sleep.

Paris - Chapter Eighteen

Approximately, fall of 1998


At around six in the morning, Annie simply couldn't
take it anymore. It was time to call Jacques and put
an end to this once and for all. She considered waking
JC and telling him, but she wasn't exactly sure how
he'd handle the news. Hell, she wasn't even sure what
she was going to do, but Annie could control herself
well enough if it was her alone. Taking on both her
own temper and JC's, however...

Bad idea.

In the middle of the fifth ring, a bleary voice
answered the phone. ("Hello?")

("Jacques, it's Annie.") She made no attempt to mask
the edge creeping into her voice.

("It's not even seven yet. Why are you calling?")
Jacques tried to bring himself fully awake while he
sat up and switched on the light next to his bed. She
sounded upset...maybe she and JC had just had a huge
fight and she needed him to comfort her! Or maybe she
was just calling to admit that she'd been wrong about
him at the very least. ("Is something wrong?")

Annie took a calming breath...and failed to calm down.
("Yes, Jacques, something is very wrong. Last night,
Josh and I looked through the package Claude left for
us. He had so many wonderful things to share...and one
not-so-wonderful.")

Jacques swallowed hard. ("What do you mean?")

("Claude wrote another letter. He hid it in the
package for me to find. I couldn't sleep this morning,
so I took it out and read it.") Annie made no attempt
to hide the disgust in her voice. ("Jacques...how
could you? How could you stoop that low?") Her voice
began to shake. ("I don't understand... why? What
possessed you? If it was because you 'loved'
me...well, that's just sick.")

("Annie, what are you saying?") This was bad. Unless
he could figure out exactly what Claude had written
and how much Annie understood, there was no way he'd
be able to talk his way out of this.

("I'm saying that Claude figured everything out.
Babette couldn't have taken those pictures herself.")
A small, sardonic chuckle broke it's way pass her
lips. ("She wasn't that limber or smart.") Her eyes
narrowed, even though Jacques couldn't see it. ("It
was YOU! YOU helped her. You set everything up just to
break-up Josh and me.")

There was a long pause on the other end, then Jacques
started to chuckle. ("So,") he purred softly, his
voice going low, ("what are you going to do about it?
Have Mr. Wonderful send over his gorilla of a
bodyguard to make me pay?")

Annie shuddered as he spoke, mentally cursing herself
for missing this before. Jacques obviously needed some
serious help. Choosing her words carefully, she
decided to interrupt his ramblings. ("Jacques, as much
as the idea of TJ beating you to a bloody pulp appeals
to me, and believe me...it does, I've decided to do
something far worse.")

("And what's that,") he sneered. ("Have Pretty Boy
come over hear and dance me to death? Would that be a
fitting enough revenge for you?")

("No, Jacques,") she answered quietly. ("We're not
going to do anything. Nothing at all.")

("Nothing...") Jacques scoffed. ("Yeah, right. That
bodyguard of his would just love to get his hands on
me.") Another laugh, slightly louder this time. ("He
was practically stalking me all day yesterday.")

Annie broke in. ("Jacques, please listen to me. How
can I get it through that slightly psychotic brain of
yours that I am serious.") She paused. ("Would you
like to know why we're not going to do anything? It's
because you're simply not worth it. The revenge, the
anger...the pain.") The earlier edge in her voice
reasserted itself. ("You're a worthless, pathetic and
delusional little boy. So anything I do to you will
make you think that I actually care. Well, let me tell
you right now that I don't, because it's simply too
much of an effort.")

("What makes this worse is that I once thought of you
as a brother. All I can do now is pray that you get
the help you so obviously need.")

("Annie...") Jacques' tone was calming down, becoming
desperate.

But Annie was on a roll. (Think about this, Jacques:
you broke Claude's heart and almost destroyed Josh’s
and my happiness. Now what do you have to show for
everything you've done? Nothing! Your grandpere is
dead and Josh and I are very much together and loving
it. What was it all for anyway?")

("Annie...") Tears were beginning to creep into his
voice. ("Please...")

("Please what?") Annie released a small snort. ("Or
would you care to explain why Batty Babette and Psycho
Boy decided to join forces?")

("You really want to know?") Jacques' voice grew
harder now that he was on the defensive. ("Can you
handle it?")

("Try me.") She had no idea where this was going, but
Annie wasn't going to be intimidated by this crazy
Frenchman.

("Annie, since the first time I saw you in art class,
I loved you.") Jacques' voice became reflective. ("You
were so beautiful, so full of life, outspoken, fun to
be around... I loved your American southern accent
when you spoke in French.") He laughed at the memory
of earlier times. ("It was so sweet and endearing, as
you were pure and honest. People just naturally seemed
drawn to you, and you welcomed them all with a kind
smile.

("The first time you agreed to come home and have
dinner with me, I was overjoyed. I knew that I
probably didn't stand a chance with you, but I was
going to give it a shot. When you and Grandpere hit it
off so easily, I felt like it was a sign. I had never
seen him take to anyone as quickly as he did to you,
and it made me happy to see that the two people I
loved the most in the world loved each other as
well.")

Jacques' tone, which had just been so soft and
meditative, suddenly began to grow harsh. ("I thought
I was making progress...until the day JC suddenly
tumbled into the shop and ruined my life. He was so
pandering to Grandpere, hanging on his every word,
tearing up at just the right moments with those big
blue eyes of his.") He was spitting the words out now,
every phrase full of venom. ("He reeked of the very
image of innocence...and Grandpere fell for it all.
But still, I hoped that it would only be for one day.
Just a quick little history lesson for some American
tourist, then he'd be out the door and on his way. But
then the dinner at Pepe's...") He laughed harshly, his
tone turning mocking. ("You two were so sickly sweet
and cutesy that night, I didn't even have the stomach
for dessert. It was like watching a romance novel come
to life.

("Nevertheless, I still hoped that'd be the end of it.
I figured any affections he raised in you, I'd be able
to make you forget them. But he kept showing up
whenever 'they' were in the area, like a bad allergy.
Whenever I would get home from class, there he'd
be...sitting in the kitchen with Grandpere as if he
lived there, laughing and carrying on. Things that I'd
always done for Grandpere...that JC was taking them
over. And as if that wasn't bad enough, he was all
Grandpere would talk about after he left. JC this and
JC that! I could hardly stand it. He wasn't content to
simply take you from me...he wanted my only family,
the last one with me in the world, as well!")

("Jacques-") Annie started, hoping to calm him down.

("DON'T INTERRUPT ME!!")

("Okay,") she answered quietly. ("Continue.")

("I started following him when he went to your flat. I
had the misfortune of speaking to Babette on some of
these trips, so I decided that she'd be a good little
helper.") Jacques laughed again, in a higher pitch
than the earlier times. ("You know, that is one
seriously screwed up little bitch. Or was, at
least...but I'm getting distracted. I told Babette
that we were going to play a game. Since no one visits
her anyway, she was more than willing to go along.
Also, a little mention of sending Jake after her if
she told anyone helped a great deal in keeping her
under control.")

Annie could almost hear him shrug his shoulders. ("The
rest is pretty simple. Babette lured him over to her
flat where I smacked him in the head. We undressed him
and proceeded to play our little game, with Babette
laughing almost the whole time.") He sighed in
exasperation. ("You have no idea how hard it was to
get her to keep a serious expression long enough to
make a convincing photo. By the way, do you still have
any of those? I thought I was rather creative with a
few of them.")

("No Jacques,") Annie replied, swallowing hard to keep
down a sudden sick feeling. ("I'm afraid we got rid of
all the photos.")

("Just as well. Things started falling apart when
Grandpere got a peek at them anyway. I managed to lie
my way out of it, but it was close for a while. Then,
of course, Grandpere just had to go and die, but it
worked out for me...it meant that no one else would
ever find out.") He snorted. ("How was I supposed to
know he'd written a little synopsis of the whole thing
and hidden it until you could read it?")

Annie sat stunned for several moments, unable to
really think of anything to say. The sick feeling had
passed, but had only been replaced by confusion and
disgust. After a deep breath, she decided how she
would respond. ("Jacques, I don't think I really have
anything left to say to you. What you did...it was
wrong on so many levels that I don't even know where
to begin.") She allowed a brief tone of pleading to
enter her voice. ("I beg you, Jacques...please get
some help. That's the only way you're going to have
something that even resembles a normal life.")

Realizing that everything was about to be swept away
from him in one last swoop, Jacques became desperate.
("Annie, no! Please...") He began to sob. ("Please
don't leave me! Not you too! Please...")

("Jacques, it's pointless to continue this. And I, for
one, can't. You need to get help...more help than I
could ever give you.") She sighed. ("I'll be praying
for you. Goodbye, Jacques.") She hung up the phone
before he could say anything else.

No sooner was the receiver back in its cradle, there
was a knock at her door. She opened it to see JC
standing there, looking concerned. She motioned him
in, shutting the door behind him.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked as soon as she
turned back to him. "It seemed pretty intense...you
woke me up. And in French...at least, I think it was
French. One of those languages I don't speak...which
covers quite a few."

Annie touched the side of his face. "I'm sorry. I
didn't mean for it to get so loud." She took his hands
in hers and drew him down to sit on the bed next to
her. "It was Jacques."

Instantly, JC became suspicious. "What did he want?
Why was he even calling...for that matter, how'd he
get your number?"

"Actually, I called him."

"Okay, but why? Why did you have to call Jacques so
early in the morning?"

Annie sighed. "Josh, I have something to tell you.
Something I just recently learned about Jacques. But
you have to promise me that you won't get all angry
and get on your 'I must protect my beloved' attitude.
Deal?"

"Deal," he said reluctantly. "Now what is all this
about?"

"Josh, it was Jacques. He was the one who tricked
Babette into helping him break us apart."

JC instantly started rising from the bed, fists
clenched in anger. "What?! I'll kill him! Forget TJ,
I'll take him out myself! I'll-"

"You'll do no such thing," Annie broke in gently, yet
forcefully as she grabbed his wrist, shaking her head
as he reluctantly began to sit down again. "That was
the reaction I was afraid you would have, and I can't
blame you for it. But there's nothing neither of us is
going to do but leave it alone."

Her calm voice confused JC. "But why? I mean, how long
have you known?"

"About four hours ago. I woke up earlier because my
stomach was still learning to break-dance from the
little fish incident. I was making myself some tea
when I remembered a letter that Claude had addressed
to me alone. You didn't see it earlier because I put
it straight into my purse to look at later. Anyway, I
took it out and read it." Annie paused, thinking. "I
think Claude was too ashamed to let you see it. It was
filled with such pain...Claude had been crushed.

"You see, Claude had come to think of you as his other
grandson, which made Jacques jealous. He couldn't
handle the fact that you seemed to be taking his place
in both my and his Grandpere's hearts." A single tear
fell down Annie's cheek. "The sad thing, though, is
that Claude truly loved Jacques with all his heart.
Even as much as he loved you and me, nothing would
ever replace the fact that Jacques was of his own
blood."

JC wiped her tear away with his thumb, cradling her
face in his hands. "So what do we do?" he asked
softly.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yes, nothing. Because to do something, to treat
Jacques as anything more than an annoying little speck
will make him think we care. It'll bother him more for
us to ignore him entirely than if we sent a whole army
of TJs over to beat the living bejeesus out of him.
Besides, he 's a very sick young man and despite the
fact that a swift kick in the head might make us feel
better, it probably won't fix whatever's knocked loose
in that head of his."

"I guess you're right," JC agreed reluctantly. "But
still-"

"No more talk," Annie cut him off, putting a finger to
his lips. "Right now, I just want to sleep."

He grinned at her shyly. "Mind if I stay awhile?"

She smiled back. "Actually, I was hoping you would."

JC laid down next to her, taking her in his arms. He
kissed her gently, then softly sang to her as they
fell asleep.

Thus ends JC and Annie’s adventure in "Paris". The
following morning they would leave Paris and spend the
few remaining "vacation" days they had in London
rather than stay in Paris where Jacques was. The
thought of him stalking them had crossed TJ’s mind and
the farther they were from him the better. Returning
home they would start on "A Whirlwind to Fame."