Chapter Fifteen
Philippe was spending his time behind the desk of Hotel Paradis with Marie Claude. I may have been the expert, but once Eliot left, Philippe must have figured that all bets were off and threw himself at the young woman with full force.
I didn’t care. Leaving the two of them alone meant that I had more spare time, and that time was spent with Bing.
Had we been twenty years younger, we would have spent most of our time in bed. As it was, we sat and talked, walked the quiet streets in the evenings, laughed a great deal. When we were together, usually in his large attic bed, surrounded by wide windows letting in the evening stars, we were slow and patient, exploring, asking questions and learning all we could about our bodies and what they needed. Like everything else I felt with Bing, it was new and different and totally real.
We had two small tour groups come through, one from Spain and one from Italy. They were enough to get us through a small quiet spell, and then bookings picked up as the fall drew on. The weather was cooler, and older couples checked in—retired folks not dependent on summer shutdowns.
Karl’s garden turned dry and golden, and I awoke one morning to see Philippe walking quietly away from Marie Claude’s front door. I sighed and drew my robe up around my shoulders and looked back at Bing, snoring peacefully in my bed.
The hotel was suddenly busy. We had several return guests. The business types, who would have normally stayed closer to the city center, checked in more frequently now, praising the quiet and efficient service, grateful to be away from the noise and crowds.
Claudine raised an eyebrow. “I love my old clients,” she said. “They have helped spread the word. Now, we need more rooms, Lucy.”
I shook my head. “Ever hear of physics, Claudine? You can’t create space from nothing. And you can’t renovate existing space without money.”
She threw me a look. “That last bit? What scientific principle is that?”
“Lucy’s law,” I said, and she laughed.
On my days off, I no longer looked for something else to do at the hotel. Bing and I would set off, sometimes just walking the old streets of Rennes. We’d take a train on a whim: Saint-Malo, Nantes, Dinan.
“The girls would love this,” I told him, watching the boats glide gently down the river. “They love boats. They learned to kayak at camp a few years ago, and they’ve been fascinated ever since.”
“Well, when they come to visit, we will rent a sailboat and take to the open sea.”
I stared at him. “You sail?”
He shrugged. “I am a man of many hidden talents.”
I laughed. “Yes, that you are.”
He waggled his eyebrows at me. “I’m glad to have found such an appreciative audience.”
I felt myself slowly slipping into a place of comfort, of safety. I let myself believe, a little bit each day, that this man would not hurt me, that he would, in fact, be there for me anytime I needed him.
And in letting Bing in, I found everyone else slipping through as well. Marie Claude, in a haze of her own, filed for divorce. Since she had not been married in a church, it was a simple civil affair, more paperwork than anything else.
Claudine and I became closer. She had never been one to hold back, but now we were even more relaxed around each other. She knew about Bing and me. Of course she did. And when I asked if she minded, she rolled her eyes.
“Oh, Lucy, I will never get over him. Bing will always be the man who saved my hotel by giving me a son. And he was also the man who saved me from my marriage. But that was long ago. I am happy for you both. Now, maybe it will be my turn?”
“Saved you from your marriage?”
She made a face. “When I first married, I thought every couple was the same. That all men treated women the same way. And then I met Bing, and he treated me completely differently.” She settled in her chair. “Every year for my birthday, Hubert would throw an elaborate party, invite all his friends and family, and at the very end, he would present me with a very expensive gift. He would always say the same thing. ‘Claudine,’ he would say, ‘you are worth every penny for putting up with me all year long.’ Well, after one year with Bing, I looked at him and said, ‘Thank you, but maybe next year, skip the gift and just not be such an asshole.’”
I burst out laughing. “You didn’t!”
She shrugged. “Yes, I did. It’s funny how you can be going along, perfectly content, thinking that this is what your life is supposed to be, and then suddenly, someone comes around that makes you look in another direction. Suddenly, everything is new. Because of Bing, I knew I would never settle for mundane again.”
That was happening to me. I began to look past what I thought I knew as true, and the possibilities were endless.
I was happy. I had every bit of confidence back. The world was suddenly perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
Until my father called me, early one morning, to tell me that Joey had been driving drunk, sped headlong into a tree, and had been killed.
I had stepped away from Bing’s bed to take the call and now stood, cell phone in hand, staring out the broad expanse of windows into the morning light.
“Lucia?” Bing called, his voice thick with sleep.
“Joey’s dead,” I croaked. I cleared my throat and said it louder. “Joey is dead.”
I heard the bed creak and seconds later felt Bing’s arms around me, leading me away from the windows and back to the edge of the bed. He peered into my face, his hands holding mine.
“What happened?” His voice was quiet.
“Car accident.”
“His girls?”
I shook my head. “Not in the car.”
He exhaled. “Thank God. I will find a flight for you. Newark?”
I shook my head, still trying to process the words I’d just heard, my mother’s voice cracked and shrill. “The quickest.”
“Of course.”
He was watching me, waiting, I knew, for some reaction beside a blank, unfocused stare, but that was what I felt: unmoved, without a single, coherent thought.
Then … “I’m their guardian.”
“What?”
“The girls. Joey made me their legal guardian after his wife died. They’re mine now.”
“How lucky,” he said softly, “you will be to have them.”
I met his eyes and nodded. “Yes. We’ll have each other.”
“Let me tell Claudine,” he said.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“And then we’ll find a flight. Rennes to Paris to New York.”
I nodded again. “Yes.”
He still waited, crouched down in front of me, watching my face.
“You can go,” I finally said. “I’m not going to cry.”
He took a deep breath, stood, and moved away.
No, I was not going to cry.
Not then, anyway.
I arrived at the Newark airport and walked through the endless lines in a daze. I hadn’t slept and spent the entire plane ride with my jaw clenched and an ache in my chest to keep from crying. I finally saw, right beside the luggage claim area for my flight, Julia, looking calm and steady in a long black leather trench coat. She crossed the hard tile floor in a heartbeat, sweeping me into her arms. Then I let the tears come.
I managed to pull myself together quickly. “I’m getting tears and snot all over your coat,” I muttered.
“Yes, well, I can always get another. Do we have to wait for your suitcase?”
I shook my head.
“Smart girl. I’ll get the car.” She took out her phone, sent a brief text, then walked through the banks of glass doors and stood in the cold autumn air.
“I spoke to your mother this morning,” Julia said, her voice dry. “Sophia sounded fine, but said your dad is not taking this well.”
“Dad is a fixer,” I said. “He probably can’t believe he couldn’t fix his son.”
“She also said that Frank was taking charge of things.” Her arm, high around my shoulders, tightened. “Is he still a douchebag?”
I nodded and sniffed. “Yes. I guess I should be grateful that he’s finally stepping up. He ignored Joe and all his problems for years.”
“It’s easy to be gracious to the dead,” Julia said.
A sleek black Mercedes pulled up to the curb, and the trunk popped open as a young man in a dark suit jumped out. He opened the door for us, threw my carry-on into the trunk, and was back and driving the car away from the curb before I had my seat belt fastened. The interior of the car was quiet luxury, and I let my head fall against the seat back.
“Thank you again for picking me up,” I said.
She had her phone out, checking something, but she slid it back into her purse. “Don’t be silly. I couldn’t let you get off a seven-hour flight and then climb into some Uber. Besides, Douglas insisted. You know how much he likes you.”
“That’s because I’m the only one of your friends who knew you way back when and doesn’t hold it against your current status as queen of the roost.”
She cracked a smile. “You’re right there. You have always kept my secrets.” She glanced at me. “Have you talked to the girls?”
“Just for a minute. Mimi just cried. Cara wanted to make sure I was coming.” My throat filled up again.
She grabbed both of my hands and tugged at them. I looked at her, and her eyes were big and very serious.
“This is going to be harder than you think, Lucy. You are the one who was named to care for those two, but everyone will second-guess every decision you’re going to make.”
I took a deep breath. “I know.”
“You lost a lot of confidence in yourself. I know that. But seeing you in Rennes, I think you got some of it back. You’re going to need to trust your instincts again, Luce. You know what’s best. You must believe that. Not just for them but for you.” She squeezed my hands again. “You’re going to have to be that tough-as-nails, take-no-prisoners Lucy that once owned the world. Families are impossible to deal with in the best of circumstances. You have to decide what you want to do and then stand by it, no matter what.”
I was nodding. “I know. Mom and Dad are going to want me to stay with them. Like, for the rest of my life.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
I closed my eyes and thought about the hotel, the work there, the success I had made from nothing. I thought about Marie Claude and Philippe, sitting on either side of me in one café or another, laughing and planning and asking my advice. I thought about Claudine and the trust she had placed in me with her family’s legacy. I saw Karl’s face, patiently explaining the different grape varietals. And Bing. Something new caught in my throat. Bing, who had once challenged my every move, but who had become my champion.
“I have another life,” I said quietly. “I have a life that I love.”
“Then hold to that, Lucy,” Julia said. “Don’t let anyone make you forget that life and how you feel about right now, at this moment. Promise me?”
I opened my eyes and stared out of the darkened window. The lights of the cars on Route 78 blurred and dimmed. “Mom and Dad have a point. This is what they know. This is what the girls are used to. How can I take them away from their home?”
“Their home was never with your parents. It was never with Joe, either. He moved, what, three times after Sara died? Four times? He went in and out of rehab, leaving them to bounce between grandparents. The last home those girls knew was with both of their parents, and that was years ago.”
“This is impossible, Jules,” I moaned.
“No. It isn’t. It’s easy, when you think about it. Mimi and Cara have been waiting for something, or someone, to save them. That’s you. They’ll go anywhere with you. You know it.”
“Joey tried,” I said, my voice breaking.
She dropped my hands to put both arms around me. “I know he did, Luce. He was crazy about his daughters. Anyone could see that. Hell, even I could see it, and I’m the biggest cynic in the world.”
We sat together in the back seat of her quiet car, and I ran through every single scenario in my head. Having Julia right there beside me gave me a certain courage, but I knew that the weight of family was going to come crashing down on me, the years of guilt, the years of unhappiness, the million little pinpricks of hurt.
“You do what’s best for you,” Julia whispered. “Because if you are having a happy and satisfying life, then Cara and Mimi will have the same. If you feel trapped or unhappy, they will know. And they will blame themselves.”
“Thanks,” I said wryly. “Something else I hadn’t thought of.”
She sniffed. “Well, if your best friend can’t rain down more smoke and ashes on your worst day, who can?” She looked over. “I will be happy to stay right by your side. For as long as it takes. You know that I have nothing else to do with my life.”
“Nonsense,” I said. “You have two sons, both of whom need constant supervision, despite their supposed elevation to adulthood. You have a very good job where people rely on you for every little thing. Remember, I’ve seen you at work. And you have a very loving husband who has all the patience in the world, but really just wants you there to cater to his every whim.”
“I suppose when you lay it all out like that, I’m the most talented multitasker in the five boroughs. But I will be happy to remain at your side. No matter what.”
The car slowed to a halt. The lights of my parents’ neat little house shone through the front windows.
“What, they didn’t even leave the front porch light on?” Julia muttered.
I got out of the car and took my small bag from the silent driver. I peered into the car at Julia. “I may send up a flare.”
“I’ll be ready. I love you, Luce.”
“Thank God. I love you, too, Jules.”
I shut the car door, squared my shoulders, and walked up the four steps and into my parents’ house.