Lucie settled into her chair, cradling the puppet like a baby. “You were so kind to share your friend Feenee with Monsieur Meow, and he wants to share his friends with you.”
Josie stared at the puppet box in awe. “There are more?”
“The children who come to this store. Starting next Saturday, I’ll have a Children’s Hour each week. We’ll read stories and have a puppet show and play games. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
But Josie lowered her chin. “Children don’t like me.”
Lucie’s chest ached, and she had the puppet dance back and forth. “These children will, because you’ll be Monsieur Meow’s special helper. The children love Monsieur Meow.”
“Miss Girard?” Mr. Aubrey beckoned. “May I please speak with you?”
Lucie wasn’t in the habit of obeying officious businessmen, but he’d asked politely. She set a picture book before the girl. “Excuse me, Josie. I’ll be right back.”
Mr. Aubrey led her to the cash register—how fitting. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work. She’s correct about the children.”
“I know. I saw what happens at church. She’s rejected because of you.”
He winced and turned his head as if her words had slapped him. A muscle in his neck worked, below the faint darkness on his jawline.
Lucie felt no guilt. He deserved to know how his greed affected his daughter.
His mouth agitated. “I see no need to compound her pain.”
“Good. Bring her to Children’s Hour. It’s for children only. The parents may read or run errands. But no child will be unwelcome. I won’t have it.”
He stared at the author photos over the cash register, that neck muscle still working.
Lucie gentled her voice. “If she’s my special helper and the puppets love her, the children will warm to her. She’s cute and sweet. How could they not like her?”
“She needs friends.” His voice sounded hoarse, and he rubbed his fist over his mouth. “She ... thank you.”
“Very well. Next Saturday at fourteen hours.” She spun to return to Josie.
“Wait,” Mr. Aubrey said.
“Yes?” She turned back. He’d better not ask her out again.
“I apologize for eavesdropping, but I heard your conversation with your concierge.” He flicked his chin toward the office. “If you need help with the business, with the money end of things, I’d be happy to help.”
Why did the most horrible men who entered her store have to be the most generous? “That won’t be necessary.”
His lips smiled, but his eyes looked as sad as Josie’s. “That’s right. The store’s sole purpose is to enlighten minds.”
“Yes.” She returned the smile, because kindness deserved some reward in a cruel world. “To enlighten minds.”
12
MONDAY, MAY5, 1941
Paul checked the envelope in his attaché case. Signing off on repairs had kept him at the factory late, so his trip to the embassy would have to wait until the next day.
Duff would like this report.
Over the past few weeks, Paul had attended several dinner parties. At one, the manager of a tire factory had been quite free about the numbers and types of tires the Germans were buying.
Since the German army had conquered Yugoslavia and Greece and had crossed the Egyptian border, why did they need so many tires?
Also, older soldiers were arriving in France, sending the younger soldiers back to Germany. As if the plan to invade England were abandoned. As if Hitler planned to attack to the east.
