Chapter 29 #2
“But Max incredible. Maxcredible. Maxnificent. Maxigal.”
“Oh stop,” said Max, beaming and motioning for more.
“You guys are making me sick,” said Sabine.
“You, too, could be this happy,” said Willa. “What about Bubble Tea Desmond?”
“Nah, don’t feel like dating at the moment,” she said, although she’d forgotten all about Desmond. Truth was, Aubin was still on her mind, but she wasn’t ready to say that out loud. “When do you go to Halifax?”
“Forty-seven hours, two minutes, and … three seconds,” said Willa.
“I’m going, too. Switching schools,” said Max, holding Willa’s hand.
“If you want to come, the three of us could rent a house together,” said Willa. “You wouldn’t even have to register at Dal, though I’m sure they’d trip over themselves to have you.”
“Yeah. You could take a year off,” said Max. “That what you’re planning?”
Sabine’s phone rang. It was her father. She excused herself and stepped onto the coach-house deck and picked up. “Hey.”
“Hey,” said Yves. “I’m in Toronto for your mum’s summit, and I wondered if you wanted to get something to eat. Maybe even tonight, if you’re free. We could talk.”
Sabine felt cautious. “What about?”
“I’d like to keep getting to know you. We can do that in Toronto while I’m here … and I asked permission from your mum, by the way. Or we can do that in Paris, too. I’d still love to get you your French passport. And there’s the residency at Chateau Beaupré. I bought that for you.”
“Thank you,” said Sabine, touched. “I’m busy tonight with friends. I do want to get my passport one day, but … it was hard when you didn’t show up at that office in Paris.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I want—I will do everything in my power to make it up to you.”
“As for Chateau Beaupré,” said Sabine, metabolizing that apology, “I don’t think I’m ready to go. You should give the residency to Aubin. He could go for music.”
“True, but he’s not my child. If he wants to go, his family can send him. It was for you.”
She wasn’t sure what to say.
“I’m here all week,” he said, “so if you want to see each other, let me know. I love you.”
Technically, he was her father, but he hadn’t behaved like one until now.
She’d waited her whole life to hear him say “I love you.” It hit her that she’d worked to be the best student and kid to impress everyone, but especially her father.
She’d thought that if she were perfect, he’d come back, be proud of her, and love her.
But every time she got her perfect marks, and he didn’t show up, she felt she still wasn’t good enough, and if she just tried a little harder, he’d notice and come back, and they would be a family again.
It was unfair to her mum, who’d always been there, and who’d always been proud of her no matter what.
Sabine hadn’t done it on purpose. Now that she saw it, plainly, her anxiety melted away.
Being the perfect child hadn’t made her father show up all these years or at the passport office in Paris. That was his problem, not hers.
It did feel as if he loved her, to the extent that he was able. Now she could give him a chance because she wanted to, not because she needed to. She could do what made her happy. It might take practice. Like driving the manual car with Aubin.
“I’m taking a year off, I think,” she said. “Maybe to travel. I could visit you in Paris.”
“I would really like that.”
Her mind flashed to the I Love You wall in Montmartre and the image of the woman with the thought bubble: “aimer, c’est du désordre … alors aimons!” To love is messy, so let’s love.
Nothing with her father would be easy. Nothing about life, come to think of it, was easy. But she was going to go out there and see how she made out.
On the spur of the moment, she sent Aubin a WhatsApp.
“I’m thinking of travelling for a year. Maybe start in France, maybe get a youth mobility visa somewhere and work for a bit to raise money to travel some more … Want to come?”
His answer was instantaneous. “Yes.” And then fourteen heart emojis. She was thrilled.
Noah made dinner at their parents’ place because they wanted to debrief. Good times.
Over appetizers, it was niceties. How much Iris and Bill had enjoyed their stay with Madame Belleville.
How well the fundraiser had gone. Even reluctantly admitting how important Marlow was to Mirabelle.
In the midst of all that, Sabine texted Marlow to say she was going to travel for a year with Aubin, and she was too nervous to talk about it face to face.
Later, she’d award her mother a ninety-second lecture with no adolescent interruptions, but Marlow should know that Sabine had made up her mind.
Marlow thought this was a great idea. They’d apply for deferrals to the universities that had accepted Sabine. They’d all say yes, Marlow would bet her life on it.
The main course was a pasta in chanterelles cream sauce. Sylvain had taught Noah how to cook with them. It sent Marlow right back to Montsouris-le-Petit, and the chanterelles Manon the chef had cooked for her and Luc as they’d toured the h?tel disséminé.
As the main course wound down, Marlow’s parents moved into attack mode. Now that she and Sabine were back, what was the plan? Had Oscar offered the job? What had she decided to do with Maison Perdue? What was Sabine doing about school?
Marlow slowed down her eating to savor every bite until her parents ran out of steam. It was like doing a deep breathing exercise amidst a fourteen-car pile-up.
“Do you plan on answering us anytime soon?” said Iris. “Ignoring your family is rude.”
“I’m not ignoring you. I’m letting you finish your thoughts while I eat this exquisite meal. Noah, you outdid yourself.”
“Right?” said Noah.
Sabine arrived. “What’d I miss?” she said, slipping into a chair.
“Only the best main I’ve ever made,” said Noah.
“You’re just in time to help me answer all the questions,” said Marlow.
“I bet,” said Sabine. “You first.”
“No fair, but I’ll try.” Marlow took her last bite of pasta, considered licking the plate, and remembered what Guillaume had said to her when they’d done the Five Factor Test about buying Maison Perdue. “Of everyone in the world, you are the expert of you.”
She’d been telling herself she didn’t know what she wanted for so long, she’d come to believe it. All this time, it hadn’t been a lack of knowledge, it had been fear. “Oscar offered me the job, but I didn’t take it. And I gave my notice at Renegade today.”
Bill and Iris gasped. Sabine smiled. Noah just whistled and shook his head.
“I don’t want to climb the corporate ladder. I’m going back to France. Maybe rewrite my screenplay from all those years ago. Or write a different one and see if I can shoot it.”
The more she talked, the more the idea took shape.
“I had a chance to work at another film festival—a big one—but I don’t want to administer other people’s fine art anymore. I’m going to apply for a work permit in France. If I can work remotely, I can work freelance from there.”
“How on earth will you do that when Mirabelle doesn’t even have internet!” said Iris.
“One of my first projects.”
“Oh lah-di-dah, now she thinks she’s the mayor of Mirabelle,” said Bill.