Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
At breakfast, Sabine got the news that her mum’s boss, Oscar, had approved the idea of staying the summer and working remotely. Sabine couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do than stay, too. True, the situation with Aubin was awkward, but he’d promised to never mention their kiss-fest again.
“That’s so cool, Mum. I’ll stay, too.”
“OK,” said Marlow, “but not to sound like a broken record … university. You said you’d choose. I don’t want you to be here and feel it’s not the most important thing. It is.”
Guillaume and Aubin stared at their fruit plates, trying to be invisible.
“Sabine got a perfect report card in her final year of high school,” said Marlow to the others.
“One of only three students in the whole province. She met the premier—had her photo in the paper. The deal was, we were going to France for a holiday, and she was going to choose a university. None of that has gone away.”
Sabine’s head was in a vise. She couldn’t breathe. The only way out was to lie. Or was it? She never lied. Ever. She’d never had to.
“I actually did decide. I chose U of T.”
“Yes!” said Marlow, pumping her fists in the air. She turned to Guillaume and Aubin. “The University of Toronto is like Canada’s own Sorbonne. And she can live at home, too. I’m so happy.”
Sabine felt a terrible mixture of nausea and relief. She just needed to stay here in France for the summer and buy herself time to make this one decision that seemed so huge.
“And since I made my choice, and I don’t have to move, I can stay,” said Sabine. “Help with the house.” She was laying it on thick. Too thick? She wasn’t used to this lying thing.
“Any labor that’s free labor is excellent labor to me,” said Marlow.
“I don’t know what you’re doing, Aubin …” said Sabine.
“If my uncle doesn’t mind me taking time away from the vineyard,” he said.
“I don’t,” said Guillaume.
Sabine smiled, noticing the terrified look on Marlow’s face, like her daughter might get pregnant just by spending the summer with a boy. Give me a little credit, thought Sabine. And yet … she felt a thrill. Who knew what might happen next.
Marlow texted Violet that she and Sabine were staying the summer—it was the middle of the night in Canada, but she’d get the message in the morning.
Then, with trepidation, she texted Noah the news.
He was actually up (all those years in the restaurant business had made him a nighthawk) but he was happy for her, which filled her with relief.
She reassured him that she wasn’t abandoning him—she’d be back.
Now she needed to let Rémy know she’d be staying the summer. Guillaume offered to drive, but when she got to his garage, he was standing next to a moped, holding two helmets.
“If you are comfortable driving a moped, take this. So you and Sabine can get around.”
“What? No! We couldn’t possibly—” There was her WASPy inner voice again. Don’t look needy. Say no to favors. She eyed the very cute, bright green moped.
But wasn’t it rude to refuse? And she needed transportation. Even she could see that.
“You are too good to be true.” She accepted a helmet, and his hand brushed hers, sending a little shockwave through her.
Marlow rode past farms and pockets of houses.
The bars and cafés were still closed, but one or two boulangeries along the way were bustling with people buying their baguettes, saying hello to neighbors and having a petit café.
She hadn’t driven anything in years other than her bicycle in Toronto. The ride was a thrill.
Rémy’s car was parked in the Nenier lot, and she was heading up the Mirabelle stairs. Marlow caught up. Here we go. Be nice. Make her your friend. “Can I walk with you?”
“As you desire,” said Rémy, France-polite yet frosty, negotiating the uneven, mossy steps in her heels.
“I wanted to let you know that I’ll be living in Maison Perdue over the summer, so you don’t have to invoice me for the penalty.”
“Ah. You are staying.”
“Until September, when I hope my appeal will go through. I’ve arranged to do my job remotely, and I’ll do some work on the house.”
“Keep in mind that any work you do on the house must be done by local contractors,” said Rémy, “with the appropriate permits. I am sure you have met Lali. She can help find who you need.”
“I don’t see myself doing anything major,” said Marlow, sensing another trap.
Rémy shrugged as she pulled the skeleton key from her purse and unlocked the mairie door. “You never know with these old houses. Things come up. Unforeseen things. Bonne chance.” She disappeared inside and let the door close behind her.
Marlow had the feeling that Rémy did not actually wish her good luck. But Marlow was determined to make some luck of her own. She headed for Lali’s house to find a contractor.
As she packed her bag, Sabine talked to Willa about the plan to live at Maison Perdue, a house with no electricity, a dead rat in the fridge, and weird brown water coming out of the taps.
“It’ll be like glamping,” said Willa.
“Minus the glam.”
“Cry me a river, you’re in France! More importantly, you were about to tell me what happened with Aubin when your mum walked in. You were in the rock park. And then?”
“Then apparently I kissed him.”
“Whaaaat? What is even happening right now? Who are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“And now you’re staying the summer,” said Willa, “and you’re working with him on the house. Got a photo you can send?”
“Nope.”
“Could you get right on that?”
“Nope. It meant nothing, Willa, get over it.”
“I demand a photo. Video. Wait—what’s his Instagram? I can’t wait to hear what happens next. Did he use his tongue?”
“Don’t be disgusting.” But yes, he’d used his tongue, and so had she, and there was zero gross factor, as there had been right at the end of the kiss with Brace-Face Boy at Jonathan Benson’s Grade 10 party.
“That’s not an answer!” said Willa. “He must like you. Do you like him? And was there tongue or not?”
“The kissing was a one-time thing. There won’t be more to tell.”
“You’re avoiding my questions!”
“What’s up with Max?”
“We have another date this week,” said Willa. “They’re taking me for a picnic. FYI, I totally plan a second kiss and a million more. You and I were the losers of our year, and we’re in serious course-correction mode. Reconsider your no-kiss summer. That is a terrible idea.”
“I have to go.”
“There are no details in your story!” Willa yelled, but Sabine signed off and lugged her suitcase down the stairs.
Did Aubin like her? Did she like him? She had kissed him precisely because it was meant to be nothing.
A course-correction, just as Willa said.
A do-over for what she’d missed by skipping out on prom.
But now she was feeling all these complicated feelings.
And it wasn’t fair to be half-in, half-out, now that she was staying.
That decided it. She wanted to be friends. That was it.
Lali showed up at Maison Perdue with a broom, pail, mop, toolbox, and lunch things, ready to work.
Once they met the contractor, who was coming any moment, they’d make a plan, go to Neufchateau for supplies, and get started.
In the meantime, Marlow gazed around the house at everything that needed to be done and exhaled long and loud.
“We will do this together,” said Lali reassuringly. “First, we can get you new mattresses, since you will be staying the summer. That would be good, no? And then we will do all these other things, one by one. Fedir will come after work. He is good at wiring.”
Marlow felt sheepish. “You don’t both have to help.”
“Oh yes, we do. You cannot imagine how long it’s been since I had time to gossip with another woman. It is selfish. I hope you have good gossip.”
“I really don’t,” said Marlow. “We’ve only been here a few days. So … do you miss being a doctor?”
“Yes. I was the first in my family to graduate from high school. My grandmother put me through university. You know this saying, you only live once? Her saying was you only die once. Because you live every day, you repeat this living over and over, but once you are dead, you are gone. So live life to your highest possibility, whatever that might be.”
“Good way to think about it,” said Marlow. “But I don’t think I’m living life to its highest possibility. In fact I know I’m not.”
“We don’t all have to be doctors. And while I say that I was inspired being a doctor, I have abandoned it. My grandmother would not be pleased.”
“You saved your family from a pretty dangerous situation. That was brave.”
“True. And maybe someday I will be the doctor of Mirabelle. But the cost of the French medical exams … I cannot see it.”
“I can. Have some faith.”
“I do. I will. I don’t know you very well, not yet, but you need this same faith.
I am sure you are as brave as I am. You bought a house in another country.
You have been thrown some problems since then, and you are fixing them.
That is bravery. Do not, how do you say? Offer to the market a small Marlow.”
“Do you mean undersell myself?” asked Marlow. Lali nodded.
There was a knock. “Ah,” said Lali. “The help arrives, the work begins!”
Marlow opened up to find Luc in a pink Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and flip-flops.
“Bonjour,” he said, stepping inside.
“We’re a bit busy at the moment,” she said, feeling peeved that he’d just invite himself in like that. “We’re waiting for a contractor.”
“And here he is,” said Luc.
“You are the local contractor?” Marlow looked at Lali, gobsmacked.
“Is there a problem?” Lali asked.
“Not … at all,” said Marlow hesitantly.
“Excellent. Luc is good at many things. Especially plastering—is it because of your art degree, do you think, Luc?”
“Being good at plastering is more about fixing houses in Mirabelle than my art degree.”
“You should see his paintings,” said Lali. “They are beautiful.”
“You’re not going to renovate in flip-flops, are you?” said Marlow.