“Holy shit, girl!” Amy exploded, beaming at her. “That’s fantastic! How did that happen, or when? You never told me you applied there.”

“I didn’t… well, I did… but I didn’t mean it. Marc set it up with a friend of his when I was there. I just went to humor him. They e-mailed me three days ago. I was too scared to tell you. I thought you’d be upset.” She smiled at her jubilant friend in relief. Amy was the most generous person she knew, and always happy for other people’s victories and successes, instead of rejoicing in their defeats as so many others did. It was easy to see that she was thrilled for her friend.

“Of course I’m upset. I’m going to miss you. But there’s nothing for you here. You’ve done it. It was right for a while, but Ted’s gone, your job disappeared, you might as well get your ass out of Dodge and try something new. And Paris is about as good as it gets. What does that guy think? Marc, whatever his name is?”

“I didn’t tell him. And I sent the man who hired me an e-mail asking him not to tell him either. That’s too much pressure for me right now. I can’t deal with his expectations and a new job too.”

Amy looked surprised. She thought he had more to do with it than he apparently did. Brigitte looked nervous about him too, not just the job. “Are you going to tell him when you get there?” It would have seemed strange to Amy if not, except that she knew her well, that she hated change and had an aversion to risk. And right now Brigitte was dealing with both. She was scared shitless. But she was doing it anyway. For once she wasn’t taking the easy way, she was facing things head on, and throwing caution to the winds. The writing she’d been doing about Wachiwi was helping her. It was a constant reminder of how brave some people were, and how well things turned out sometimes. Wachiwi’s story had had a happy ending. Brigitte was beginning to think that hers could too. And she couldn’t hide in her rabbit hole forever, afraid to take chances.

“Yes, I’m going to tell Marc when I get there,” she answered Amy’s question. “Just not yet.” And then she admitted, “I’m too scared. What am I going to do if I get a good offer from a school here before I go?” She’d been worrying about that for days. It would create a real dilemma for her if that happened.

“Turn it down, silly. Paris or Boston? Now there’s an easy decision.” For Amy maybe, not for Brigitte. She would never have had the courage to make the choices Amy had, and she wouldn’t have wanted to. She wanted children, but not the way Amy had done it, at a sperm bank. It seemed too uncertain to her, and children seemed like too much responsibility to her to take on alone. If she never married or found the right man, she was prepared not to have children. She and Amy were just very different people, with different needs.

The two women talked for a while, and Amy was startled to realize she was leaving in ten days. It was so soon, and Brigitte had a mountain of things to do before she left. She had decided to get rid of a lot of her things, and put the rest in storage. The studio apartment they were offering her in Paris was furnished, and she didn’t want to take too much with her. She asked Amy if there was anything she wanted, and she said she’d come and look that week before they got taken away.

“So when are you going to tell this guy?” she asked, curious about Brigitte’s relationship with Marc. She kept saying they were just friends, but Amy didn’t believe her. There was a light in her eyes every time she mentioned him, and she insisted on their “just friendship” much too often.

“I’ll tell him when I’m in Paris. Maybe after I get settled.”

“Don’t wait too long,” Amy warned. “If he’s a good one, someone else will grab him.”

“If that happens, then he’s not meant for me,” Brigitte said coolly. She was thinking of Wachiwi, who had fallen in love with Jean and left for France with him, and ended up marrying his brother. You could never predict what would happen. There was an element of destiny in everything that one could never account for. And it applied to her relationship with Marc too. Whatever it turned out to be would be the right thing in the end. She was convinced of that now. And she wasn’t going to rush it.

She told Amy then that Ted had called her, and she looked surprised again.

“What did he want?”

“Some kind of closure, I think. It was okay. It was weird hearing from him at first. He called right after I got the e-mail from AUP, and I was hysterical. He actually helped me. He thought I should do it.”

“Of course he did. Because if you go off to Paris and have a new life, then he doesn’t have to feel so guilty for dumping you here in a hot New York minute, and on Valentine’s night yet.” Amy had never approved of how brutally he had left her. She had lost all respect for him when he did, and she felt very sorry for Brigitte.

“Maybe it was for the best in the end. I could have wasted another five or six years. It was never right,” she admitted to her friend. “I just didn’t want to see it.”

“He could have been nicer about it,” Amy said sternly.

“Yes he could,” Brigitte conceded. “I’m not even mad at him anymore. It was strange talking to him though, it felt so disconnected. It was like talking to a stranger. Maybe we always were.” Amy nodded and didn’t comment. She had never thought much of the relationship or him. He seemed so totally without passion, except about his work. She hoped the new man in Paris was better, if Brigitte decided to get involved with him. She wondered if she would, but it was beginning to seem likely. And she could no longer use the geographic excuse to avoid it. Maybe that was why she was being cautious about telling him. She wanted to give herself options, or at least that was what Amy thought. All Amy wanted for Brigitte was for her to find a good man. She hoped this one was.

Brigitte spent the rest of the week putting the things she wanted to keep in boxes, and stacking the rest to give away. She got rid of books, mementoes that no longer meant anything to her, sports equipment Ted had left and never reclaimed. She was amazed at much of the stuff she had collected. And she made a small pile of things she wanted to send to Paris for her apartment there, photographs of her mother, some reference books and research papers, and a few sentimental things she knew she’d miss too much if she put them in storage. There were photographs of her with her parents when she was small, a nice one of Amy with her kids. And she put away all the photos of her with Ted. She didn’t need them anymore, and had meant to put them away months before. This was a good time for her to sort through everything and get rid of what she didn’t need, and all the things that had become obsolete in her life. She put all her mementoes with Ted in a box and sent them to storage. She couldn’t bring herself to throw them away.

And then finally, it was over. The apartment was empty, her bags were packed, the furniture had been stored. Amy had taken a few things, and she’d given her the couch she bought with Ted. She didn’t need it anymore, and if she came back, she wanted to start fresh. But for now her fresh start was in Paris.

Her last evening with Amy was one of laughter and tears. They reminisced about silly things they’d done together, jokes they’d played on each other and friends. Brigitte remembered the births of both her babies and had been there, and now she was going three thousand miles away, but she was feeling calmer about it than she had at first.

“I know it sounds stupid,” she said to Amy as they sat in her kitchen, “but I feel like I’ve finally grown up. I guess I’ve been coasting for a long time and didn’t know it. I think this is the first time I’ve made a big decision, and didn’t just back into it, or slide into home base.”

“I think you hit a home run on this one,” Amy praised her. She totally approved of her decision to go to Paris. And even if it wasn’t the right job in the end, it was a great idea to try it, and it might open a door to something else. She had said as much to Brigitte. “I hope it works out with Marc too.”

“I’m not expecting anything except friendship,” Brigitte said simply, and she almost meant it. Not totally.

“That’s what you’re expecting. But what do you want, Brig? If you had a magic wand, what would you wish for? A life with this guy, or someone else?” It was an important question, and Brigitte thought about it before she answered. And when she did, she spoke softly.

“I don’t know him well enough to be sure. But maybe a life with him. He’s a good person, and I really like him. We get along, and I think we respect each other and we have a lot in common. That’s a good beginning.”

“Sounds like it to me,” Amy said, smiling at her friend. “Then I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you that it works out. I’m going to miss you like crazy though if you stay there.”

“Boston’s not so far. I’ll come to visit. I’ll come to see my mom in New York anyway.”

“And if I ever get these wild Indians of mine tamed, I’ll come to Europe.” But they both knew it wouldn’t be anytime soon. And Amy needed every penny she made to support them. No one helped her, which made her decision to have them even more courageous.

“I’ll call you,” Brigitte promised when she left. And they had e-mail. They e-mailed each other frequently anyway, even right in Boston. Being three thousand miles away from Amy was going to leave a huge void in her life. She was used to having her right down the hall at work, or a few minutes away.

They both shed a few tears as they hugged each other, and then Brigitte ran down the steps, waving, and

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