44 Charles Street

“In a month. Charles-Edouard wants to be back in Paris for Christmas. We’ll probably leave on the twenty-third of December.” Francesca knew it would mean their giving up their room on Charles Street. They didn’t need a room in New York if they were living in Paris. They could stay with her whenever they came back, but there was no reason for them to pay rent in New York. It was going to be a financial challenge for Francesca, but this time she didn’t think about selling the house. She and Chris and Ian were happy there. She’d have to find a way to make it work. But she didn’t want to take in roommates again. There would never be another Marya. And she didn’t want to risk another Eileen. It had been too traumatic.

“I hope you stay here when you come to New York,” Francesca said sadly, and Marya hugged her.

“We will. And you’ll have a home with us in Paris. You can send Ian over to visit anytime,” she said to Chris. “It would be wonderful for us and exciting for him.”

“Do you think you’ll ever live in the States again if you two get married?” Francesca asked her.

“We don’t know. It depends what Charles-Edouard does when he reshuffles his business.” He had to make some adjustments after giving half of what he had to his ex-wife, which seemed fair to him. Divorce was expensive. He never complained about it, even to Marya.

Their announcement was a big change, and bittersweet for all of them. They were losing beloved friends, or at least on a daily basis. And Charles-Edouard was part of their family unit now too.

Ian cried when they told him about it the next morning, and Francesca felt that way too. She’d been depressed since Marya announced it. And Ian didn’t want them to leave. Marya told him he could come to visit in Paris and see the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe and ride on the Bateaux Mouches on the Seine.

“But I don’t speak French,” he said mournfully.

“Lots of people in Paris speak English,” she reassured him, “and Charles-Edouard and I will help you. We’ll take care of you, and I want your dad and Francesca to come too.” He nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. It was too far away. Ian loved them both, and they loved him.

And on Sunday Chris found Francesca poring over the bills in her office. It reminded her of the days when she was trying to save her house and her business, and afraid she could do neither. Marya leaving was going to make things very tight. She was struggling with the numbers again, and they didn’t look good. She had never rented Eileen’s room again and she didn’t intend to. The top floor had been closed since August, and Francesca wanted to leave it that way. The memories in that room were too awful, and she didn’t want anyone up there, out of respect for Eileen. The rooms were clean and empty and kept locked. She hadn’t been up there herself since the murder. And Brad still hadn’t gone to trial and probably wouldn’t for many months. The police had stayed in touch with her. She had often thought of calling Eileen’s mother, but she never had. She had the feeling they wouldn’t welcome her call. She was planning on sending them a note over Christmas, and had written a heartfelt condolence letter when Eileen died, saying what a wonderful girl she was. They had never responded. Maybe they just didn’t know what to say or how to do it.

Chris saw her worried expression as Francesca went over the bills.

“Bad news?”

“Sort of. I don’t know why, but we had a bad month at the gallery in November. We hardly sold anything. October was great, and September was pretty good. Every time I think we’re getting solid, something slips. I don’t have a lot of cushion from it, and I’m still paying that damn plumber bill from the big leak.” Two thousand dollars was a lot at one gulp for her. The plumber had allowed her to do it in two payments, which helped, but she still had to pay it. “It’s kind of a blow that Marya’s leaving, in more ways than one,” she said sadly. “I’m going to miss her so much.” She was both surrogate mother and friend to her now, and good at both. Francesca loved chatting with her every day. They all did. “And I don’t want to rent Eileen’s room again. I just can’t. And no one would want it anyway. What happened there is too heavy for anyone to want to live in that room. And I don’t want to take strangers in again. It’s too risky.” In the end, she had decided that her mother was right for once, although she’d been lucky. But it seemed too high-risk now, and too intrusive.

“You did okay with me,” he teased her, and she smiled. She was so happy with him.

“Yes, I did.” But now she was losing two-thirds of her income from the house, with no Marya and no Eileen. That was a big chunk to her, and made things very difficult for her again. Marya’s lease had been about to end anyway. And so was his.

“How did you manage when Todd was here?” he asked, curious about it. He had never asked her that before.

“We each paid half of the mortgage payment. It was tight, but I managed, and it worked. I can’t carry it alone.”