Free I Looked for the One My Heart Loves by Dominique MARNY Page B

to Anne and put a hand on her forehead.
    â€œYou should go to bed,” he said.
    After she put on a nightgown, he pulled down the sheets and blankets so she could slip into bed. Anne knew that no one else would ever have taken such good care of her. She shut her eyes. It was so easy to allow yourself to be loved.
    â€œSit next to me,” she whispered.
    François propped up a pillow and leaned his back against it.
    Examining Anne’s face, he said, “You don’t look as pale as you did when I first came into the house.”
    â€œIt’s your presence,” she said with a smile. “You have a soothing effect on me.”

10
    As soon as they arrived at the site of Expo 58, François couldn’t contain his enthusiasm. Just like a kid, he gawked at the flags of the forty-nine countries that had signed on to present their technical knowledge and latest advances. King Baudouin officially inaugurated the world’s fair on April 17, 1958. Two months later, Anne and François made the trip to Brussels. In the early afternoon, they dropped their luggage at the hotel, and then took the train to the town of Heysel, where avant-garde buildings had been constructed, including the famous Atomium, a structure 335 feet tall that weighed more than 2,400 tons.
    In the midst of the Cold War era, the event was meant to be humanistic and pacifist. The fair’s theme was “A World View: A New Humanism.” In that vein, the United States and the Soviet Union had agreed to have their pavilions set up face to face. The other countries shared a territory crisscrossed by cable lifts, motorized rickshaws, and the Expo train.
    Once they passed the entrance gates, Anne and François entered a futuristic universe that surpassed their expectations. Going along with the flow of the crowd, they walked along paths lined with fountains, ponds, and statues. Everywhere, the fair’s flag flapped in the wind: a five-pointed star and the planet Earth.
    François wanted to see the Soviet pavilion. The previous fall, the launch of Sputnik had kept him awake for many nights. As he lingered in front the exhibits on space exploration, Anne sat on a bench. Six months pregnant, she couldn’t stay on her feet very long before her back started to ache. Her pregnancy had been confirmed just before Christmas. Since then, all she could think about was the birth of their child. Would it be a boy? A girl? What name would they give the baby? François liked Thierry, Bruno, Sophie, or Caroline. She preferred Aurélie or Olivier. If all went well, she would give birth mid-September.
    â€œLet’s go see the Americans!” she said when her husband was back.
    They stood in line for a long time before finally walking into the circular temple of the “American Way of Life.”
    The huge crowd prevented her from staying in front of the movie sets as long as she’d wished. But she was able to enjoy °a color documentary of a plane gliding above the Grand Canyon projected onto a giant 360. All throughout the exhibit, you could drink Coca-Cola and eat over-sweetened ice cream. But it proved all but impossible to get into the room where Ford, Cadillac, and Studebaker were presenting their latest models. Wave after wave of visitors lined up to admire the new fancy American automobiles.
    Anne and François decided to leave the pavilion. All around them, people spoke a variety of languages. Hostesses in uniforms directed exhausted visitors to rest areas. After a stop in the Dutch pavilion, they headed for Guillaume Gillet’s bold structure, the French pavilion. When they left the stand where fine wines and other local products could be sampled, the sun was beginning to set. They walked toward the Atomium, with its nine shining chrome spheres. An elevator was taking visitors to the top.
    â€œIn my state,” Anne said, “I’d rather just take it easy. I’ll wait for you in the garden. Right