The Book That Matters Most by Ann Hood

Author:Ann Hood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company

As she stood beneath the twinkling lights of a fake Eiffel Tower, Ava couldn’t help but wonder if her new role in her own life was to destroy things. Of course Luke had left hurt this morning (true, he’d stayed the night and managed to not be angry as he bent her into shapes her body had forgotten it could make). Of course Gray was also angry with her, even though he was the one who had acted like an ass last night. No, Ava corrected herself. Gray wasn’t angry. Worse: he was disappointed in her. She’d let Jim get away and now she was involved with someone only slightly older than her son. No, Ava corrected herself again, taking a big swallow of Plouff’s very good burgundy. Gray wasn’t disappointed. He thought she was pathetic. So did Monique, who was glaring at her from beneath the fake Arc de Triomphe, a new addition to this year’s party.

Madame Levesque pushed her walker to a halt beside Ava and frowned up at her. The woman got smaller and more hunchbacked every year. Still, she wore two spots of rouge, one smack in the middle of each cheek, dark red lipstick, and enough perfume to last a week.

“Where’s Jim?” Madame Levesque shouted up at Ava.

Ava took a deep breath. “He couldn’t come,” she said.

“Why not?” Madame Levesque asked, sounding more like a spoiled child than an octogenarian.

“Because he left me, Madame Levesque,” Ava blurted. “He ran off with someone he knew years ago when they had a fling on Mykonos.”

“The Greek island?” Madame Levesque asked, as if that was the detail that mattered.

“She’s a yarn bomber,” Ava said. “She takes over things that aren’t hers.”

Madame Levesque shrugged. “C’est la vie,” she said. “I left my first two husbands. Number one for number two, and number two for number three. They survived.”

“Thanks for understanding,” Ava said.

Greg sidled up to her on the other side, red-faced and smelling garlicky. He loosened his tie, a garish one with multicolored Mona Lisas smiling out from it.

“Came to drag you into the hot debate,” he said, linking an arm through hers.

Ava glanced back to find Madame Levesque dancing with Pierre, one of the adjuncts. Pierre wore his hair like Tintin’s, and as he twirled Madame Levesque in his arms, his hair seemed to bow to her.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to piss someone off,” Ava said, relaxing into his side. “Topic?”

“Should they get rid of the locks of love on the Pont des Arts?”

People from around the world sealed their love these days by attaching locks to the railing on the Pont des Arts in Paris, and then throwing the keys into the Seine. Two Americans living in Paris had a petition calling for the locks to be removed, turning the fate of the locks into a hot debate.

“Should I be for or against?” Ava whispered as they approached the small but loud group.

“Definitely for,” Greg whispered back with a warm puff of garlic breath.

“I’ll try,” Ava said.

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