Chapter Twenty-four Remi
Chapter Twenty-four
Remi
Oxbow Market was unusually crowded for a Thursday afternoon, but Remi pressed through anyway. She needed a few essentials for the house. She picked up a couple of artisan pizzas, salads, and a box of cupcakes for dessert.
The house had been quiet with just the two of them—she and Zoe.
The silence felt heavier these days. It was weeks since the confrontation with Bianca, and the absence of her once best friend lingered.
This new space between them seemed strange.
Going from talking to someone every single day since the age of twelve to not speaking at all felt like losing a limb or, worse, death.
Her emotions in a whirl, grief was mixed with anger, but she refused to give in.
Bianca had betrayed her in the most unforgivable way, and nothing could change that their lives—all their lives—would never be the same.
She wheeled the SUV down Trancas Street and stopped at the light, the late-afternoon sun beaming down on her.
She pulled the visor down to block it. With a sigh, she turned up the stereo.
Dinah Washington’s voice spilled through the speakers, “You Don’t Know What Love Is,” one of Grandma Lorraine’s favorites.
She missed her grandmother and would call her when she returned home.
If she were back in Louisiana, she would’ve spent a few days tucked away at Grandma Lorraine’s house, her head resting against her bosom.
They’d sit in the kitchen eating bowls of gumbo, listening to some of the old greats on the record player.
She would tell her about the fight with Bianca, and she’d know exactly what to say.
Grandma Lorraine always gave the best advice, and she needed it right now.
But she hadn’t wanted to tell anyone yet.
Because when you said it aloud, that always made it real.
Her eyes shifted to the right, drawn to a young girl with short hair helping a frail woman into the back seat of a waiting sedan.
Something about them caught her attention, a familiarity she couldn’t immediately place.
But then she looked again. The woman’s posture, her profile, even the way she pulled her sweater tighter—
It was Bianca. She was sure of it.
Remi’s breath slowed as the light turned green.
She eased the SUV forward, glancing through the window once more to confirm.
The woman didn’t look back, but Remi didn’t need her to.
She knew the frame and the face. Despite the sunglasses, the weight loss, and the scarf covering her head, there was no mistaking the woman’s identity.
Bianca was back in Napa. And she hadn’t told a soul.
The thought of Bianca’s return unsettled Remi all evening. She picked at her pizza and barely touched her salad. Her appetite had vanished and was replaced by a gnawing in her chest.
“Are you okay, Mom?” Zoe asked, pausing midbite.
Remi looked up, not even realizing her daughter was observing her. Her mind raced. “When’s the last time you talked to Mila?”
Zoe raised an eyebrow. “Not since she left for New Orleans.” Zoe poured more ranch dressing over her salad. “Why? What’s going on?”
Remi hesitated before answering. “Nothing. I just … I thought I saw Bianca today.”
“In Napa?” Zoe blinked. “
Remi gave a slow uncertain nod. “I think so.”
Zoe tilted her head. “She wouldn’t be here and not tell us. Right? She’d stay with us … here at the house.”
“Right,” Remi replied softly. Her voice said one thing, but her gut whispered something else entirely.
After dinner, she sat with a glass of Merlot. Soft music played to soothe her soul as she relaxed on the sunporch.
“Mind if I join you?” Zoe asked softly, peeking her head out the door.
“Not at all, sweetheart. Come on out.”
Zoe took a seat in the chair adjacent to Remi’s. “Mom, you know how you told me that if you had known what I was going through, you could’ve helped me?”
Remi nodded hesitantly. “Yes.”
“Well, if I don’t know what’s going on with you, then I can’t help you.” Zoe grinned. Her frazzled cornrows had been replaced by two thick braids on each side of her head. “I know that something happened between you and Aunt B. And you haven’t been the same since.”
“You’re so observant.” Remi smiled at her daughter.
“I’m not a kid anymore. You can tell me what’s going on, and we’ll work through it together,” she said. “Isn’t that how it’s done?”
Remi sighed long and hard. “This is really heavy, even for you.”
“I’m tougher than you think,” Zoe shot back.
Remi smiled. “Let’s just say, it’s something that I can probably never forgive her for.”
“Well, I know this—” Zoe began. “There has never been a time in my life that Aunt B wasn’t around. She’s been a present figure since the time I was born. She’s family. So, whatever it is, I’m sure she didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Remi looked down at her wineglass, turning it slowly in her hand. The silence hung thick. Crickets chirped just outside the screened window. Zoe didn’t push. She waited patiently.
“It was more than just a falling out,” Remi said finally. Her voice low, barely audible over the music. “It was betrayal. The kind you don’t come back from. The kind I hope you never have to endure with any of your friends.”
Zoe sat up straighter but still quiet.
“There are things I believed were sacred in my life. My marriage. My friendships. My sense of whom I could trust. Bianca and I—we were more than best friends. We were sisters. She knew everything about me. Everything about our family.”
She sighed, then paused to steady her breath.
“She crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed. One that broke something in me. Something I’m still trying to figure out how to live with.”
Zoe frowned, her eyes narrowing. “Did it have to do with Dad?”
Remi hesitated. She knew the truth was out there now. There was no turning back. “Yes. But not just him, though. My whole world. Imagine learning that one of the people you’ve trusted most in the world helped tear your life apart. That’s the kind of pain I’m talking about.”
Zoe’s face shifted. Concern softened into sadness. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because I didn’t want you to carry it too,” Remi said. “It’s not for you to worry your pretty little head about.”
“But I am carrying it, Mom. I’ve been carrying it in your silence.”
Remi blinked hard, caught off guard by her daughter’s words.
“I just want to understand. That’s all. Not to fix it. Just to know what it is that broke us.”
Remi leaned back in her chair, watched as the sun went down.
Zoe’s words pierced her heart. Broke us.
They were gentle words but sharp, like the edge of truth often was.
Her little girl had grown in wisdom, and Remi found herself trying to pinpoint the exact moment that it happened.
Somewhere between grief and heartbreak, her daughter had evolved into someone who could sit in silence, ever observant, ask the hard questions, and listen for the answers.
And not just any answers but demanding the real ones.
“I’m still figuring it out, baby. But thank you for seeing me.”
“You’re welcome, Mom. I do see you.” Zoe looked at her mother with wide, bright eyes. “When you figure it out, will you let me know? So that I can help.”
Remi hesitated. “Yes. I will.”
Zoe reached for her mother’s hand. Remi took it and held it tightly. There was no more pretending, just two women, mother and daughter, sitting with the truth between them. For a moment anyway.
“I’m going up to take a shower,” Zoe announced as she stood up. “Do you need for me to sit with you a little longer?”
“No, baby. I’ll be okay. Go on up.”
Zoe kissed Remi’s cheek. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you more.”
Remi’s phone dinged and lit up in the darkness. She grabbed it and read the text:
Aunt Remi. I have to tell you something. My mom is not doing well. The cancer is back, and it is running rampant.
Remi’s heart sank as she read the words on her screen. Her breath caught in her throat. She sat upright, the wine in her hand forgotten, her chest tightening as she reread the message. The cancer is back.
“Oh no,” she whispered. Her voice cracked in the darkness of the porch.
She stood and walked toward the screened window, holding the phone like it might fall apart in her hand.
Her mind raced with images of Bianca hooked up to IVs.
Fragile, the way she had once been, years ago.
The nights Remi had stayed with her, sat with her during her treatments. All those silent prayers.
She thought they’d beaten it. She believed, despite everything, that Bianca was in the clear. Remi sank into the chair again, thumb trembling as she typed:
How bad is it? Is she in the hospital?
She stared at the screen, waiting for the typing bubbles. None came.
A lump rose in her throat as the heaviness settled in. The unresolved history, love, and betrayal all collided with the one thing that had always made her pause when it came to Bianca: She was still family.
A tear slid down her cheek, followed by another. And before she knew it, she was crying uncontrollably. “Damn you, B,” she whispered. “Damn you for doing what you did … and damn you for being someone who I still love.”
Mila texted back: She’s at the hospital. Providence Queen of the Valley. Please come.
“I knew that was her I saw earlier,” Remi whispered to herself, remembering the fragile woman she’d seen on the street.
She stepped into the house and placed the wineglass in the sink. Her hands were already moving—gathering keys, her sweater, her bag.
“Zoe!” she called.
The betrayal could wait, she thought. The pain could wait. But Bianca might not be able to.