Valérie hadn’t gone in years, and Oscar, always more interested in athletics, had toured few galleries. The diverse and modern collections gave them much to talk about, and they continued their conversation over lunch in a casual bistro where they ordered steak frites and a bottle of light rosé. They shared clafoutis aux cerise for dessert like lovers. They walked through the old neighborhoods and admired buildings that Valérie hadn’t looked at in years. Who admired seventeenth-century architecture with two tired, arguing children in tow? she thought to herself. Who stopped to study the details of medieval gargoyles while hauling bags of groceries?Oscar was a charmer, and he made her laugh with stories from his business travels in the world of pro sports. They held hands and shared ice cream. They kissed in the street. Oscar took her hand everywhere, and put his arm around her at every opportunity.They ended the day with a stroll through the Jardin du Luxembourg, resplendent and majestic at the height of the season, topaz-toned sand and stone bright in the summer sun.
