The Seasons in the Garden by Peggy Kopman-Owens

His widow had not wanted the responsibility of running the antique store, which had been his passion, not hers. The store had stood empty for several years. I, on the other hand, was heading for an unfurnished apartment above a store, where I would be lucky if the heat had been turned on.

Tonight, he would fully understand and appreciate his new living arrangement.

For an old, battle scarred alley cat, Caesar was moving up in the world. In addition, he would be sharing it with a charitable-natured, longhaired Persian. I knew from experience that, with the exception of being next to her in bed, this would be the warmest place in Jacqueline’s house. He was going to the warmth and comfort of Ives’ woolen nest, a special bed snuggly placed in the corner of Jacqueline’s room, right next to her bed. We were coming out of one of the worst winters on record, and although, it was already the first week of April, Parisian nights were still bone-chilling cold. Since Jacqueline and I had gone our separate ways, Caesar had become my only warmth at night. However, where I was going, cats weren’t welcomed. I enjoyed having him around, especially at night, when he slept on my head. He did not appreciate that this, also, would be a sacrifice on my part. Caesar didn’t know that soon he would be sharing space with Yves and Luciano, but he had no choice. That wasn’t going to happen, at least not until we reached Jacqueline’s apartment. Loudly, he shouted to be liberated from prison.

Imagine that! The revolution continues.Ĭaesar didn’t care what the law stated. Simple citizens are protected from ruthless property owners, tossing them out in the snow. The humanity of French law still amazed me. I had been able to delay our departure as long as possible, thanks to the French law that protects tenants by preventing property owners from evicting between the months of October and March. A buyer was waiting in the wings, eager to launch into a complete remodel. I couldn’t blame him, but the lease had expired, and the owner’s notaire (agent) had already signed the papers. He complained bitterly, loudly, in his strongest baritone voice. Question Mark Chapter Heading.jpg Chapter 1ĬAESAR DIDN’T WANT to leave Montmartre.

The Seasons in the Garden by Peggy Kopman-Owens