Gavin is nodding, but Annie looks confused. “So what?” she asks.
“So what if he came to the States and carried on that tradition?” I say. “What if he’s part of an interfaith organization somewhere?”
“What do you mean?” Annie asks.
Gavin answers for me. “I think your mother is saying that maybe Jacob joined one of those organizations where people work together for understanding between the religions,” he says. “Kind of like the way people from different religions worked together in Paris to help save your great-grandma.”
Annie looks unconvinced. “I don’t know,” she says. “Sounds kinda dumb. But I guess it’s worth a try.”
“I’ll call some interfaith organizations today,” I tell Annie.
“And I’ll try calling some synagogues,” Gavin says. “You guys try to find out Jacob’s birth date, okay?”
Annie and I nod. Gavin thanks Annie politely for the pastries, smiles at me, and then turns to go.
“Give me a call if you find out anything, okay?” Gavin says as he heads for the door. “See you two tomorrow!”
“Bye!” Annie chirps, waving at him.
“Bye,” I echo. “Drive safely,” I add. He smiles once more, turns, and leaves the bakery.
“He’s so nice,” Annie says once he’s gone.
“Yeah,” I agree. I clear my throat and go back to setting up for the day. “He is.”
Annie is spending the night at Rob’s, and since it’s been a slow day, I text her and tell her that she doesn’t need to bother coming in after school; I can clean up myself this afternoon. She calls me from her dad’s house after she gets off the bus and tells me excitedly that he’s left a note for her saying it’ll just be the two of them that night and asking whether he can take her out to a special dinner.
“That’s great, honey,” I say. I’m glad; it sounds like Rob is making an effort to make her feel important. Maybe my words the other day meant something after all.
“When you go to the hospital, can you tell Mamie I said hi and that I’ll be there tomorrow?” Annie asks. “In case she can hear you?”
“Of course, sweetie,” I tell her.
I pick up Alain at home after I close, and we chat the whole way to the hospital. I’m realizing how very much I like having him around; he fits nicely into our life. Some days, he helps out around the bakery; other days he spends at Mamie’s bedside; and on days like today, he stays home and surprises me by doing things around the house. I returned a few days ago to find all the framed artwork in my attic hung up on the walls; today, I returned to find my pantry and freezer, which both had been virtually empty, cleared out and restocked with new groceries.
“It is the least I can do,” Alain said when I’d confronted him in disbelief. “It is nothing. I took a taxi to the supermarket.”
At the hospital, at Mamie’s bedside, Alain holds my hand as we both sit with Mamie. He murmurs to her for a while in French, and as promised, I deliver Annie’s message, although I don’t believe that Mamie can hear me through the fog of her coma. I know that Alain and Annie both believe that she’s still in there, but I’m not so sure. I keep this feeling to myself.
I find myself thinking about Gavin while Alain whispers to Mamie, and I’m not entirely sure why. I think it’s just because he’s been so helpful, and I’m feeling more alone than ever.
Alain eventually settles back in his chair, apparently done with whatever story he was telling. Mamie continues to sleep, her narrow chest slowly moving up and down.
“She looks so peaceful,” Alain says. “As if she is somewhere happier than here.”
I nod, blinking back the sudden tears in my eyes. She does look at peace, but this just reinforces my idea that she’s already gone, which makes me want to cry. “Alain,” I say after a moment, “I don’t suppose you know Jacob’s date of birth, do you?”
Alain smiles and shakes his head, and for a moment, I think he’s indicating that he doesn’t. But then he says, “As a matter of fact, I do. Rose and I met him for the first time the evening before his sixteenth birthday.”
I lean forward eagerly. “When?”
“Christmas Eve, 1940.” Alain closes his eyes and smiles. “Rose and I were walking through the Jardin du Luxembourg. She had brought me with her to visit a friend in the Latin Quarter, and we were in a hurry to get home before curfew; the Germans insisted on everyone in Paris being home with their blackout curtains drawn.