Chapter 12
Her jaw dropped, and she found herself staring at Gina.
“Wait, it’s called Hotel de France?” she asked. “That feels so…silly? I don’t know.”
“No sillier than Mall of America,” Lilly interjected.
“That’s an excellent point. Consider me corrected,” Sylvie said.
Fiona stepped around them to pour coffee from the pot into each of their cups. “So, hang on—you’re going away? When did this happen?”
Sylvie’s stomach clenched. “Yeah, just for a few days, though. Remember when you found me in Gina’s office after the funeral? Well, I was having a moment. Everything was so overwhelming that day, and I kind of…snapped.”
“That was you snapping?” Fiona asked, eyebrows rising. “Good Lord, if only that’s what snapping looked like for the rest of us!”
The four women laughed awkwardly, but Sylvie knew Fiona was making an actual effort.
“Sorry to spring it on you. I honestly forgot about it with all the lawyer stuff going on,” she said. “And I was clearly lacking faith in my travel guru. I didn’t think you’d get anything sorted out so quickly. I thought I’d have at least a week to own up to it.”
Gina’s smile faltered. “Ah, well…then I might just be a victim of my own success.”
“What does that mean?”
“The flights are tomorrow,” she said quickly.
Her jaw dropped again—this time infused with panic rather than wonder. “I’m sorry, but what? Tomorrow? I can’t leave in a day! That’s—no, that’s…what? No, I mean, I’m sorry, that’s just so soon! That’s like…twenty-four hours. That’s tomorrow!”
Gina’s cheeks turned pink, even against her heavily tanned face, and Sylvie felt herself growing embarrassed.
“I’m sorry; you said to book it and go ahead,” Gina replied. “And this deal was just too good to pass up. Compared to the normal price, you’re basically getting the flights for free and an upgraded room. I guess we’re just lucky that Americans don’t need a visa for Martinique!”
The woman was clearly trying to save face, and Sylvie would’ve loved to let her, but the panic was well and truly flowing now.
“Martinique?”
“Yeah, that’s what the island is called,” Gina said, looking slightly confused.
“Okay, but why wouldn’t I need a visa to go to an island off the coast of France?” Sylvie asked flatly, growing more concerned by the look on Gina’s face. “I thought everyone needed a visa to visit Europe, regardless of where you’re from.”
“Um…” Gina hesitated. “Martinique isn’t off the coast of France.”
Sylvie shook her head in disbelief. “What do you mean? Of course it is! Off the south coast, like…Mediterranean France.” From the wide-eyed stares coming from all three women, she knew she sounded as absurd as she felt.
“It’s an overseas territory of France,” Gina said slowly. “In the Caribbean.”
Lilly raised her hand. “But also, Aunt Sylv, you know they speak French in a ton of places that aren’t France, right?”
“Canada doesn’t count!” Sylvie exploded.
Trying to cover a snort of laughter, Lilly continued, “I think they do, but I mean, like, they speak French in a bunch of countries in Africa, too.”
She knew her niece was trying to help, but her breathing was coming fast and hard, and her heart had begun to race. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she wanted to pinch herself. “I can’t go,” she said. “I can’t.”
“Why?” Fiona asked. “You were fine with the idea a minute ago.”
“There’s a big difference between France, where I know at least vaguely what to expect, and an island in the middle of nowhere! I don’t know anything about it!”
Gina looked like she was going to cry, too, and Sylvie took a deep breath.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m sorry to have messed everything up, Gina,” she said. “But I cannot go to the Caribbean.”
The silence in the kitchen was deafening as Sylvie tried to calm her breathing.
“Sylvie, you told me to go full steam ahead, so I did,” her old friend said. “It’s last-minute. It’s non-refundable.”
Feeling behind her for the stool she knew was there, Sylvie watched the room sway—or maybe it was she that was swaying. “I… Come on. I can’t.”
“Why not?” a voice close to her asked.
Turning, she realized it was Fiona. How did she get next to me so fast?
“It’s too much,” she whispered. “And I thought I could take…Mom.” Her eyes dropped to the pendant around Fiona’s neck, the one bearing the sparkling green gemstone.
“Oh, honey,” Fiona said. “Those gems take months to make. But that’s not the point! You should go for yourself. I think taking a break from all this would be good for you.”
Why in the world is Fiona being so…nice?
A warm pressure on her hand made her look away from her sister-in-law.
Lilly had picked up her hand and was gently squeezing it.
“You should go, Aunt Sylv. Martinique is beautiful. I looked up the hotel Gina mentioned, and it’s got everything you could want.
I know it feels different from the idea of going to Europe, but I really think you should go. Grandma would want you to, right?”
The feeling was coming back to her toes as she calmed down, and the embarrassment settled in. “Yes,” she said honestly. “She would. I’m sorry I panicked. I just…I’m so sorry, Gina. You did a wonderful job.”
“It’s fine,” Gina said. “So long as you’re not upset with me?”
She shook her head. “I’m not. When is the flight?”
“That’s the other thing,” Gina said sheepishly.
“It’s not actually easy to get from Charleston to Martinique.
None of the flight options are great, but I did get you upgraded!
And you have a lounge pass included in your travel insurance, so you won’t even notice the time.
You’re going to have to leave first thing in the morning.
I took the liberty of booking you an airport transfer. ”
Sylvie felt almost in a daze as she squeezed Lilly’s hand and rose to her feet. “I guess I’d better pack.”