Chapter Eight
Apple Mousse and a Small Picnic
Clare sat quietly in the corner of her aunt's sitting room after returning from Café Noah.
The house was peaceful, but her thoughts were not.
She hugged her knees slightly and stared at the floor.
She had gone hoping to play.
But Noah had already left for school.
Everyone seemed to have somewhere to be.
Except her.
Aunt Laura noticed.
She didn't ask questions immediately.
Instead, she walked over slowly and sat behind Clare.
Without a word, she began gently combing Clare's hair.
Soft strokes.
Careful and warm.
"You miss them?" her aunt asked softly.
Clare nodded.
Her voice came out small. "I went to see Noah… but she was in school."
Aunt Laura hummed gently in understanding.
"You will join soon."
Clare didn't reply.
A few minutes later, Aunt Laura stood up and returned with a small bowl.
Apple mousse.
Clare's favorite.
She placed it carefully in Clare's hands.
"I heard you like this," her aunt smiled.
Clare looked down at it.
The familiar sweet smell made her chest feel lighter.
She took a small spoonful.
It tasted like home.
They sat together quietly while Clare ate.
Slowly, her shoulders relaxed.
Time passed gently.
Soon the front door opened loudly.
Clausius rushed inside.
"Mom"! Clare!" he called.
He ran toward them excitedly.
"You know what happened today?" he began without waiting.
Clare looked up.
Clausius dramatically demonstrated how one of his classmates had tripped over his own shoelaces and accidentally spilled ink — not on himself — but on the teacher's desk.
He exaggerated every movement.
Even copied the teacher's shocked face.
Clare burst into laughter.
Real laughter.
For a moment, she forgot she had been sad.
Clausius grinned proudly. "See? My school is never boring."
Clare's smile slowly softened.
She thought of her old academy.
Her classmates.
The classroom.
Even the mountain-shaped letter A.
She missed it.
After a while, she looked at her aunt gently.
"Can we go to Noah's place again?" she asked.
Aunt Laura smiled. "Of course."
---
This time, when they arrived at Café Noah, the timing was better.
Noah was there.
She looked surprised but happy to see Clare.
"You came again!" Noah said brightly.
Clare nodded. "Yes."
The two girls quickly slipped into conversation.
The earlier sadness faded as they spoke.
Noah suggested something suddenly.
"Let's go to the park."
With permission from the adults, they walked together.
Noah carried a small container.
"What's that?" Clare asked.
"Coffee jelly," Noah replied proudly. "Mama made extra."
They reached the park — open grass, scattered trees, children playing in different corners.
They spread a small cloth under a tree.
Noah placed the coffee jelly container in the center.
Clare brought small toys Clausius had insisted she take along.
It felt like a tiny picnic.
They played pretend games.
Built small imaginary kingdoms from sticks.
Argued playfully over who would be queen.
"Queens don't eat jelly," Noah declared dramatically.
"Then I will be queen," Clare said quickly, taking a spoonful.
Noah gasped. "You stole royal dessert!"
They both laughed.
The sunlight filtered through the leaves above them.
For the first time since her parents left, Clare did not feel stuck between places.
She felt… present.
And somewhere far away in Europe, Daniel sat near the vanilla plant.
Not knowing that in a small park in France, Clare was laughing again.
---