Ma Délicieuse Chérie

It was Monsieur Boulanger. He rolled up to the door — forlorn, dejected, hunched. He croaked. A much smaller man than before.

“Monsieur Boulanger?” Nadia said.

He looked up and clutched his chest, “Aide-moi… je crois que… quelque chose va pas…” (Help me… I think… something’s wrong…)

Nadia called the ambulance.

“Can you stay here?” Nadia asked Xiao Mei. She nodded. Held back from telling them it was a myocardial infarction — heart attack — it was needless suffering.

Nadia said she was his daughter. They went all the way there. Boulanger, quiet.

“It will be alright,” Nadia squeezed his hand, speaking in English. He didn’t understand, but he felt her warmth.

Boulanger passed out in the ambulance. The last thing he remembered was Nadia explaining things to the paramedics. Elle parle mal… je crève… (She speaks badly… I’m dying…)

Nadia didn’t want Boulanger to die, despite all their misgivings. She sat in the hospital waiting for the news.

He was given two stents to his arteries. **** up. Morphine. Nadia stepped into the room to see him watching TV in a side room.

“Ah, Nadia… ma délicieuse chérie…” (Ah, Nadia… my scrumptious dear…) He smiled,

“Vous allez bien, monsieur?” (Are you okay, sir?) She sighed.

“Monsieur? On est colocataires… co-habitants… co-âmes perdues, peut-être.” (Sir? We’re flatmates… co-habitants… co-lost souls, maybe.) He chuckled.

“D’accord… vous êtes okay… je vais partir.”(Okay… you are okay… I go.) Nadia said.

“‘Vous êtes okay’… Nadia, mon trésor, c’est ‘vous allez bien’…“ (‘vous êtes okay’… Nadia, my treasure, it’s ‘vous allez bien’…)

He was still correcting her French in this poor state. Men never change.

“Je… je vais vraiment partir maintenant.” (I… I will really leave now.) She said.

“Attends. Je voulais te remercier… Tu m’as sauvé la vie.” (Wait. I wanted to thank you… You saved my life.) He said earnestly.

Nadia smiled awkwardly. Nodded. Then left.