It was Saturday, and the bakery was unusually quiet.
Tom and Sabine had gone out to buy supplies from the market, leaving Leo and Marinette “in charge” of the place for two hours—a responsibility Lio took far too seriously from the very first moment.
“All right.” He said as he stood behind the cashier with an entirely formal posture.
“I am now officially in charge of an entire bakery.
This is the greatest responsibility I’ve been entrusted with since arriving in this country.”
Marinette looked at him from her corner with a smile.
“It’s a small bakery, Lio.”
“It’s a small empire, Marinette.
There’s a difference.”
No customers came for a full twenty minutes.
Leo sat on the chair behind the cashier, slowly rocking back and forth, while Marinette worked on a new drawing in her sketchbook at the nearby table.
“What are you drawing?” he finally asked, his curiosity overcoming his silence.
“Nothing important.” She said quickly, closing the sketchbook with an almost reflexive motion.
Leo looked at her with half a smile.
“That was the fastest sketchbook closure I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“It was opened incorrectly!”
“Sketchbooks can’t be opened incorrectly, Marinette.”
“My sketchbook opens however it wants.”
Lio chuckled softly.
“All right.
I’ll respect the privacy of your chaotic sketchbook.”
Leo looked at her for a second.
Something in her voice sounded different from their usual teasing.
“I’ll wait.” He said quietly, without adding a joke this time.
A customer finally entered—an elderly man asking for his usual loaf in slow, clear French, as though he were accustomed to dealing with employees who didn’t understand the language very well.
Leo handled him with newfound confidence, proudly using every French word he had collected over the past few weeks.
“Bonjour!
Un pain, s’il vous plaît— I mean—” He stopped, stumbled for a second, then continued with even greater confidence, “voilà!”
The old man smiled, handed him the money, and left happily.
Leo turned toward Marinette with the pride of a child who had accomplished something incredible.
“Did you see that?”
“I saw.” She said with a laugh.
“There was a broken sentence in the middle, but yes, I saw.”
“Broken sentences are still sentences, Marinette.
That’s real progress.”
“Of course.” She replied with a smile that couldn’t quite hide the genuine admiration beneath her light teasing.
After a period of comfortable silence, Marinette left her sketchbook and came to sit at the table near the cashier.
“Do you miss your country?” she suddenly asked, her voice quieter than usual, as though she had been gathering the courage to ask for a while.
Leo stopped.
The question was unexpected, but it wasn’t unpleasant.
He thought about it honestly before answering, choosing his words carefully, as he always did whenever a question came dangerously close to the truth.
“Sometimes.” He finally said.
“I miss little things.
My tools.
A certain sound my old machine used to make while I worked at night.”
“But—” he added in a lighter tone, “I don’t miss it as much as I thought I would.
Maybe because this place has become annoying in a comfortable sort of way.”
Marinette smiled.
“Annoying in a comfortable sort of way.
That’s the strangest compliment I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s the most honest compliment I’ve ever given any place in my life.” He said with sudden seriousness amid his usual joking.
Marinette looked at him for a second longer than necessary, then looked away with a small smile she tried to hide but failed to.
Tom and Sabine returned two hours later with bags full of supplies, finding the bakery completely intact, the cash register balanced, and one satisfied customer with his loaf.
“Everything all right?” Sabine asked.
“Your empire is safe.” Lio said with complete seriousness.
Sabine looked at him with gentle confusion, then smiled without asking any further—as was typical of her.
Tom looked at Marinette, then at Lio, and a wide smile appeared on his face, one he didn’t explain to anyone.
“Good day?” he asked loudly, his voice carrying a meaning he didn’t put into words.
“Very good day.” Marinette said quickly, her cheeks slightly flushed as she returned to her corner and sketchbook.
Leo watched her walk away, then glanced at the watch in his pocket, which had been emitting a faint golden glow throughout the day without anyone noticing except him.
He smiled.
“Very good day.” He whispered to himself in agreement.
End of Chapter Nineteen