Chapter 27
A platter of cold roast chicken, baguette slices, olives, cornichons, grapes, and three cheeses sat in the center of the coffee table.
How did the French put together elegant, gourmet meals in a few minutes?
It would take at least an hour for her to drive to the grocery store and buy a rotisserie chicken and potato chips.
Two wine glasses, plates and napkins rested on the coffee table. She sat on the couch and tucked her feet up under the robe.
Gilbert carried logs and placed them on the fire. “Would you prefer red or white wine?”
“Does white stain less?”
“Salt works on both.”
“David would advise that the white goes best with the chicken?” she asked.
He dusted off his hands. “Probably. It was his favorite.”
“I’m angry with David. I’ll take the red.”
He poured the wine, handed her a glass, and clinked his glass to hers. “Welcome.” Golden specs in his blue-gray eyes glittered in the soft light.
“Merci.” She sipped.
“Your friend Marti told me you cannot swim.”
“I don’t think I can. But I know water safety.”
“Then why did you risk your life?” His voice was a whisper.
“I didn’t want Luca to experience what happened to me.” She tightened the belt of the robe.
“You almost drowned?”
“I think I may have. I can’t remember. Marti told me I won’t be free of this fear until I remember what caused it.”
He sat next to her and rested his arm on the back of the couch. “I noticed you seemed a bit anxious before we boarded the boat and when it embarked. And then again, when we walked along the river.”
“I was. I felt like I was in a place from long ago. Darkness dropped over me, and I was petrified with fright.”
“What do you remember about the past?”
She gulped some wine. “A muddy scent. The roaring of rushing water.” She closed her eyes. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“I’m here for you. You’re safe.” Gilbert took her wine glass from her. “What else do you recall?”
“Everything is cold and dark.”
He put his arm around her and pulled her to him. “I’m here.”
His gentle voice broke open a barrier she was too weary to hold. The sensation of water sluiced over her, drenched her, swamped her.
Pressure built around her, and the desire to let go pulled at her. She moaned, pitched forward, covered her head with her arms, and abandoned herself to the darkness.
“Tell me what’s happening.” Gilbert’s voice was far away.
She pulled her legs out from under her and tried to stand, struggling against his strong arms. As if caught in a whirlpool, water and debris and mud swirled around her, sucking her away from him.
She hunched over watching that day play in her mind. “I’m at a park, with trees and picnic tables, and a beach on the side of a river. I’m playing tag with a little girl, about my age, in the river. We’re laughing and splashing each other.”
Her heartbeat quickened, and her arms stiffened.
“My foot slips on a slimy rock, and I fall. The water pulls my head under and tears me away from the little girl into deeper water. I’m kicking and flailing my arms, but the water won’t let me go, and it drags me against the rocky river bottom.
It’s getting darker, and I don’t have any more air.
I push my legs down, and kick with all my might, but my feet don’t reach the bottom.
The water speeds up, whirling me around, scraping me against a fallen tree, its branches claw me.
I clutch at the leaves, but they slide through my fingers, I’m trying to pull myself away, but the current slams me against a rock.
” Her head snapped back like it must have when she hit the rock.
She wrapped her hands around her head. “Everything is black…and silent.”
Gilbert brought her firmly against him and pulled her back onto the couch. “What happened then? It’s okay, I won’t let anything hurt you. Take a deep breath.”
She inhaled and tried to focus through the ocean of darkness.
The image of the park brightened, and she watched her child-self like she was watching a movie.
“People were standing on the shore, shouting.
A dark haired and bearded man carried me from the river onto the sand and wrapped his arm around my waist and was pounding my back.
I vomited buckets of muddy water. I was choking and crying.
My head throbbed. Blood was running down my arms and legs.
“The man wrapped me in a towel and picked me up, shouting at my mother.”
“Where is your mother?”
“Standing under a willow tree, holding a book.” Claire’s voice sounded strangely calm and far away.
“Mother walked toward him. He yelled at her, calling her—it must have been the word negligent—because I didn’t know what it meant, and I thought he said, negligee, and I remember thinking my mother would never wear such a thing.
He said something about the hospital, and she crossed her arms and said, ‘No.’”
Gilbert held her tighter.
She squirmed to turn and look at him. “How could she not take me to the hospital? I nearly drowned.”
Gilbert’s eyes flooded with the alarm and concern she thought her mother should have felt.
Claire got up and paced with fury, causing another memory to break through the fog like water bursting through a dam.
“The man carried me to his car and laid me on the backseat, with my head in his daughter’s lap.
She was the little girl I’d been playing tag with, and she held my hand, all the time telling me I would be okay, and patting my cuts with a wet towel. ”
Claire stood still, silent, letting the heavy pain of truth settle in her. “That child was more nurturing to me than my own mother.”
She began pacing again, shaking her hands and flinging a pulsing rage from her fingers. “So many doctors and nurses tended to me, asking question after question about my mother, who wasn’t there. Why wasn’t she there?”
She fell into an overstuffed chair, bent over, and rested her head in her hands. Her anger dwindled. “My mother left me there for three days.”
Gilbert knelt before her and swept her hair from her eyes.
“These memories keep coming. I can’t stop them.” A moan seeped out. “I was glad for the good food and the warmth of the nurses and doctors. I remember looking for the dark-haired man in the hospital, wondering where he and his little girl were. I wanted to thank them, but they never came.
The nurses played memory games and cards with me, got me to sing songs with them…
” She tapped her forehead. That’s where she knew the Pretty Little Horses song.
“They made jokes and used sock puppets with funny names to remove my bandages. Without the nurses, I’d have been all alone.
” She gulped for air. “For the first time in my seven years of living, I was having fun.”
“You were about Luca’s age.” Gilbert caressed her cheek.
She nodded. “I can’t imagine not loving a little seven-year-old girl.
” Her heart ached as another memory crested.
“Then my mother and a woman dressed in a stiff suit, like the ones my mother wore, carrying a purse stuffed with papers and wearing shoes that were the shape and color of bricks, arrived. I wondered if she was in the Army—she had a mustache. The Army woman told my mother to dress me. My mother held out my clothes to a nurse, and the nurse helped me into my church dress, sweater, and shoes.”
Claire thought it was sorrow creasing Gilbert’s cheeks and dulling his eyes. She was sorry her story was causing him pain, and she was grateful to him for being with her.
She wiped sweat and tears from her face, stood on shaky legs, walked to the couch, and collapsed onto it. “Without a word or smile, the two of them drove me to a convent in Vermont. What a fun pair they were; neither of them spoke during the whole trip, and it took five hours.”
Gilbert sat next to her.
Claire pounded her fists into the couch cushions.
“And my mother left me there. The nuns explained my mother was too ill to care for me, and she was going to a hospital. I thought the Army woman was helping my sick mother, but now I comprehend she was there to ensure my mother didn’t take me swimming again. ”
A sob convulsed her. She curled into a tiny ball, as if hiding from the monster who was no Kraken, but her mother.
“She never loved me,” Claire’s voice was distant, like it wasn’t coming from her.
“All my life, I thought I was unlovable, unworthy of love. But children are worthy of love just by being born. It’s taken me fifty years to recognize that it didn’t matter who her child was, my mother was incapable of loving anyone. ”
Gilbert gave her his handkerchief and kissed the top of her head.
A strange laugh seized her. “I was grateful to my mother for taking me to the convent, but now I realize she didn’t do it out of kindness, she was forced to.
The woman who I thought was from the army was probably from Child Protective Services.
The nuns saved my life. They loved me and cared for me and nurtured me.
” Sobs ebbed and flowed until Claire lay on her side, panting on the couch.
Gilbert gathered her into his arms and sat with her nestled against him.
She pressed her head to his chest, the sound of his strong, steady heartbeat comforting her, making her feel safe. She wiped and opened her eyes to the sparkling lights of the Christmas tree, glistening roast chicken, and ruby red wine. “I need a drink.”
Gilbert’s laugh rumbled.
“I’m ravenous, too.”
He sat her up and handed her the glass of wine.
She sniffed and sipped. “A hint of nutmeg?” She drank. “Definitely nutmeg.”
His eyebrows arched. “Maybe one in a thousand people notice that. I can’t taste or smell it, but Sophie could.”
“And David?”
He shook his head.
Claire took a long drink and set the glass down.
“Now I think I know what David was protecting me from. He must have at least suspected my mother didn’t love me and didn’t want to force me to acknowledge such a painful truth.
” She brought her shoulders up and let them drop.
“My mother hated me.” She took another drink. “She was sick and inhuman.”
She rubbed her hands along the embroidered flowers of the robe. “I was terrified to be a mother, because I guess subconsciously, I thought I’d be a monster, just like her. And I’ve lived enshrouded by this darkness that has prevented me from fully living.”
“Even people who know how to swim can get caught in strong currents and drown. You may know how to swim. Nevertheless, you risked your life to save Luca. Every loving mother would have done that, Claire. Never fear becoming anything like your mother.” He spread some cheese on a baguette slice and offered it.
She bit and closed her eyes. “Mmmm. Nuttiness…and pear?”
“No taste will ever escape your palate.”
“At least my tastebuds have been living a full life.”
He offered her a drumstick. “Now that you are in France, you’ll discover they’ve only just begun to live.”
She kissed his cheek. “Merci. For being with me. For helping me through the dark.”
“I am happy to be with you. I love being with you.” He curled his arm around her.
“I am happy to be with you, and Luca, too.” She held out her glass, and he refilled it. “Do you know why David didn’t tell me about Luca?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “He told us he would one day, and when he didn’t show up, Sophie and I feared he told you and you would not allow him to return. But that wasn’t true. Did he not tell you in his letter?”
“What letter?”
“He told us he had included a copy of a letter for you, should anything happen to him, with his will.”
“David didn’t leave a will—at least not one I or our attorney have found.”
“His letter, and perhaps his will, is in the envelope I brought to you—it must be in your bag, because you gave the envelope to Madame Justine, and she assured me she packed everything.”
What a jigsaw puzzle David had left for her.
Had she not been fired and not needed David’s comfort, she’d still not know of Luca or Gilbert.
Had she given away his clothing without checking his pockets, she might never have known.
“I’ll save reading his letter for tomorrow.
I’d like to enjoy being here with you now. ”
Gilbert took a sip of wine. “Do you know why I never married?”
“You never met the right woman?”
He rubbed his jaw. “I thought I had…twice, but they both accused me of the same thing. They thought I was afraid of commitment.”
“You? You are totally devoted to Luca and the winery.”
He tipped his head and his eyebrows rose. “Do you want to know the real reason?”
“Of course.”
“I was terrified of having children.”
She pressed her hand to her throat. “But you’re a wonderful father to Luca.”
He shifted his jaw side to side. “Sophie and I were the luckiest children in the world, because we had terrific parents. Unfortunately, they both died very young. Although I was in my twenties, I still needed parenting. My papa was such a great man, I feared I’d never measure up to him, and I was afraid to try, so I never married.
But when I saw Luca for the very first time, it was a coup de foudre. ”
“Love hit you like a lightning bolt.” David had ensured she knew that phrase, for he had experienced it at his first sight of her.
“It did. Even though Luca was all red and wrinkled, screaming, battling the air with his chestnut-sized fists, my heart burst with love for him. At that moment I promised him I’d love him forever and never let any harm come to him.
” He ran his finger along Claire’s cheek.
“Another reason I am so very grateful to you.”
“We’re quite a pair, madly in love with the thing we most feared.”
Laughter burst like Champagne bubbles. Claire laughed so hard she fell onto her side and rolled over onto her back. Her laughter shook the tightness from her chest and the pain from her heart.
Gilbert caressed her cheek, and she wished she’d spent more time on her makeup. He leaned over her and smoothed a curl behind her ear. Warmth and excitement tingled in her.
She placed her palm over the center of his chest, looking deeply into his eyes.
His lips gently pressed hers, and she lost herself in kissing him.
He wrapped his arms around her, and she allowed herself to be buoyed by him. She could float like this forever.