Joachim felt as if he had left half of himself behind, the beating heart or the lungs with which he breathed. He believed that the bond between twins was a sacred one, more than that of ordinary brothers. He had a deep psychological bond to Javier, despite their differences. At seventeen, the tears had poured down his cheeks when he said goodbye to his twin brother. He could not imagine a single day of his life without his brother in it, no matter how different they were becoming. The next year was going to be hard for him, in a new country and new school without his twin. Just knowing Javier was in his daily life was a comfort to him. In contrast, Javier could barely conceal how excited he was to be left on his own, living with his friend, without his mother and brother, and their supervision. And right up until the last minute, Liese was tempted to tell Javier she had changed her mind, but Francois convinced her that it might be better to let Javier do as he wished for a year, rather than bring an angry, sulking, rebellious teenage boy to Paris, which could only lead to trouble. He had already threatened not to go to school in France at all, if they forced him to leave with them, and he had promised to continue his schooling in Buenos Aires.
Liese had a thousand admonitions and instructions for him when she left. She and Joachim sat together on the plane, crying and holding hands. It was hard to feel happy about their move to France, while leaving someone so important to them in Buenos Aires. But Francois had done so many things to prepare for their arrival, and welcome them—a freshly painted, newly furnished room for Joachim, new curtains he’d had made for Liese, a new couch, and new china and utensils in the kitchen. He also bought a new television for the living room, so they could all watch sports together, and a stereo system for Joachim’s room, so he could listen to his music. Francois was so overjoyed to see them when they arrived that he looked like he was going to explode. He had tried to think of everything to please them. And within days, Joachim could see his mother start to relax. It was the first time in seventeen years that his mother had a man to lean on and take care of her, since her husband’s and father’s deaths when he and Javier were only a few months old.
Francois wanted to do everything he could to make up for the hard years she’d had before she’d met him, the struggles and the poverty. She was happy with him, and the only sadness in her life was her constant worry about Javier. Joachim missed him too and knew that his mother would not fully feel at ease until his “younger” brother joined them, and she could keep an eye on him herself. Javier was a child who needed supervision and guidance, and no one watched him as carefully as she did.
Joachim adjusted rapidly to his school in Paris, made friends with his classmates, and played sports after school. His French became even more fluent. Francois had arranged for dual citizenship for him and Liese and planned to do the same for Javier when he arrived. Joachim didn’t feel French, but he felt at home there. And Liese loved her husband and her new job. She was deeply grateful for his kindness to her and Joachim.
Francois had secured a job for her at the Louvre. He was one of the experts who certified the authenticity of all paintings acquired by the Louvre. Liese soon discovered an organization that traced paintings stolen by the Nazis and returned them to their rightful owners whenever possible. She was offered a position by them and accepted immediately. They worked closely with the Louvre and other museums around Europe, and occasionally South America, tracking down works of art that had disappeared during the war, identifying where they had wound up, and then attempting to find their original owners and return the paintings if the owners were still alive. Many weren’t, and had died in German concentration camps, if they were Jewish, but sometimes a family member had survived and was grateful for the return of their family’s lost artwork and possessions. It was slow, meticulous, painstaking work tracking down both the work of art and the original owner, but she loved it. Francois called her an art detective and admired her dedication to her job. She was tireless in her efforts.
They were a happy couple, and Liese felt surprisingly at home in France. She spoke French, German, English, and Spanish, which made it easier for her to do the research, in many countries, to trace works of art that had been missing for fifty years.
Many of the world’s masterpieces had disappeared during and after the war. A great number, particularly from France, had fallen into Nazi hands, and the works had then gone underground, hidden by those who had taken them, or sold privately by disreputable, dishonest dealers. Some had been honorably or anonymously returned to museums, but very few. It became Liese’s passion to ferret out the provenance of each work. It was heartbreaking to try to locate the original owners. Most of the heirs were astounded to suddenly find themselves with extremely valuable art. Liese did the work with passion and unrelenting perseverance. She loved telling Francois and Joachim at dinner about the particular painting she was currently pursuing.
Fresh battles erupted with Javier when he begged for another year in Buenos Aires after he graduated. He wanted to do a year of university there, instead of at the Sorbonne in Paris, like Joachim. Liese didn’t want to agree to it and let Javier stay, but in the end she had no choice. He was eighteen and refused to come to Paris for another year, whether she agreed to it or not. Francois thought it best not to cause a long-term break with him and let him have his way again. They discovered months later, through friends and some of his old teachers, that he had not enrolled in the university, and was working instead. He had taken a job with a man who owned a freight company that shipped goods throughout South America. Javier was driving a truck for him, doing deliveries. Francois didn’t like the sound of it but didn’t want to worry Liese more than she already was. Once again, Javier promised to come to Paris in a year, after he’d saved some money, so he wouldn’t be dependent on his stepfather when he arrived.
Liese’s job was poorly paid, and a labor of love. Francois paid all her expenses and Joachim’s, so she could afford to do it. He was as generous as his own salary and savings allowed, and they had everything they needed. She wasn’t an extravagant woman, despite the comforts with which she’d grown up, and Joachim made few demands on them. He spent very little money as a student. He was a serious boy and never any trouble, unlike his brother.
Joachim felt it as a physical blow when Javier refused to come to Paris after their year’s separation. Joachim felt his absence acutely. Javier’s refusal to leave Buenos Aires threw Joachim off balance for his first year at the Sorbonne. He couldn’t concentrate on his studies, worrying about his twin. He wrote to him, and called him from time to time, begging him to come, but Javier sounded different now. He was no longer a boy, but a man living on his own in a small studio apartment near the freight company’s warehouse.
He had moved out of his friend’s home when he had graduated. He alluded to some kind of falling-out with him, and disagreements with his friend’s parents, without explaining in detail. He was driving a truck now most of the time. To Joachim, it didn’t sound worth staying in Buenos Aires for that, but Javier had no interest in coming to France for the time being. He always promised that he would eventually when he had saved enough money. Paris held no lure for him, even to see his twin or their mother. He said he felt Argentinian to the core and didn’t want to live in France. He liked earning his own money, and his job, which didn’t sound good to Joachim.