Teresa looked over at Monique, trying to read her sister’s emotions, but Monique seemed completely indifferent.
She must be deaf, dumb, and blind, Teresa thought.
And then she recalled all the times Monique had gone to Paris and Cannes and St. Tropez looking for her perfect prince but had never found him.
So it’s not the fault of the men. It’s the fault of my sister. She has no idea what she wants.
Teresa turned to Raoul. “I would love to.”
Outside, she could not let the subject drop.
“How did you like Monique?”
“She seems very nice,” Raoul replied. “Ask me how I like her sister.”
And he took her in his arms and kissed her.
It was like nothing Teresa had ever experienced before. She trembled in his arms, and she thought: Thank you, God. Oh, thank you.
“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” Raoul asked.
“Yes,” Teresa breathed. “Oh, yes.”
When the two sisters were alone, Monique said, “He really seems to like you.”
“I think so,” Teresa said shyly.
“Do you like him?”
“Yes.”
“Well, be careful, big sister,” Monique laughed. “Don’t get in over your head.”
Too late, Teresa thought helplessly. Too late.
Teresa and Raoul were together every day after that. Monique usually chaperoned them. The three of them walked along the promenades and beaches at Nice and laughed at the wedding-cake hotels. They lunched at a charming bistro at Cap d’Antibes, and visited the Matisse chapel in Vence. They dined at the Chateau de la Chèvre d’Or, and at the fabulous La Ferme St. Michel. One morning at five A.M. the three of them went to the open farmer’s market that filled the streets of Monte Carlo and bought fresh breads and vegetables and fruit.
Sundays, when Teresa sang in church, Raoul and Monique were there to listen, and afterward Raoul would hug Teresa and say, “You really are a miracle. I could listen to you sing for the rest of my life.”
Four weeks after they met, Raoul proposed.
“I’m sure you could have any man you want, Teresa,” Raoul said, “but I would be honored if you chose me.”
For one terrible moment Teresa thought he was ridiculing her, but before she could speak, he went on.
“My darling, I must tell you that I have known many women, but you are the most sensitive, the most talented, the warmest…”
Each word was music to Teresa’s ears. She wanted to laugh; she wanted to cry. How blessed I am, she thought, to love and be loved.
“Will you marry me?”
And her look was answer enough.
When Raoul left, Teresa went flying into the library where her sister, mother, and father were having coffee.
“Raoul asked me to marry him.” Her face was glowing, and there was almost a beauty about her.
Her parents stared at her, stunned. It was Monique who spoke.
“Teresa, are you sure he’s not after the family money?”
It was like a slap in the face.
“I don’t mean that unkindly,” Monique went on, “but it all seems to be happening so fast.”
Teresa was determined not to let anything spoil her happiness. “I know you want to protect me,” she told her sister, “but Raoul has money. His father left him a small inheritance, and he’s not afraid to work for a living.” She took her sister’s hand in hers and begged, “Please be glad for me, Monique. I never thought I’d know this feeling. I’m so happy, I could die.”
And then the three of them embraced her and told her how pleased they were for her, and they began to talk excitedly about plans for the wedding.
Very early the next morning Teresa went to church and knelt to pray.
Thank You, Father. Thank You for giving me such happiness. I will do everything to make myself worthy of Your love and of Raoul’s. Amen.
Teresa walked into the general store, her feet above the ground, and said, “If you please, sir, I would like to order some material for a wedding gown.”
Raoul laughed and took her in his arms. “You’re going to make a beautiful bride.”
And Teresa knew he meant it. That was the miracle.