The Girls, as Nora and her friends collectively referred to themselves, were fully invested in all the area had to offer. They appreciated the easygoing small-town atmosphere, with the north-south streets all named after trees and the east-west streets in the oldest part of the village using the numbers one through ten.
The lively main street, with its nineteenth-century architecture from the busy, long-gone shipbuilding days, offered abundant varieties of bars, cafés, and shopping. The outdoor lifestyle options of skiing, hiking, boating, golf, biking, tennis and the recent addition of even more pickleball courts, meant life was active year-round. Throughout the region there was a vibrant cultural scene of theatre and music, including concerts and a movie festival. Vineyards and craft breweries flourished amidst the farms and apple orchards in the rolling agricultural countryside.
Life passed by without many glitches until Chloe moved to France. Then Nora began to drink way too much white wine and consumed more chocolate than anyone should. Even though she hiked, played tennis twice a week, and skied in the winter, the pounds piled on. And her self-esteem tanked.
Her friends gently offered advice and assistance, which Nora carefully ignored. Chloe chided her on video calls and expressed concern. Nora made unkept promises.
She knew Jeremy would be disappointed but would also be her best champion in her heart when she did start making good decisions. Even that was not enough to get her on the right track at first.
After a year or so of total lack of self-care, a proliferation of ads about losing weight through online dance programs kept popping up during her scrolling. She knew they were a direct message from Jeremy. Dancing had been their thing. She began with one class a day, and quickly added another because it was so much fun. She was amazed at how the pounds slipped away. Replacing the white wine with smoothies helped too. It had been a struggle to ditch the chocolate. Truth to tell, she still cheated occasionally.
Keeping fit, reading, and writing became the driving forces in her life, and she finally turned things around. Volunteering at the library, she took on the task of helping with a memoir class and found it a satisfying endeavour. A few of the group had serious stories to tell and appreciated her assistance as she guided them through the writing process. She was pleased to use her experience to help them.
And it might have been due to Jeremy that her few attempts at online dating had failed too. No one measured up to him. She knew he would have wanted her to be happy and move on with her life. She had tried … sort of. But it wasn’t long before she gave up on romance with anyone new.
As Chloe matured and subsequently fell in love in Paris, she had conversations with Nora about finding someone to share her life with again. Nora listened and at times considered it … possibly … might not be a bad idea. But in the end, she always circled back to the same quiet certainty – it simply wasn’t a path she felt called to follow.
“My girlfriends are the best,” she argued. “We keep each other busy and happy. What more do I need at this stage in my life?”
The Girls had grown close over the last fifteen or so years. Some had married, some not. Together they skied, played tennis, hiked, volunteered, wined and dined, laughed, talked, and sometimes cried. Life moved smoothly through the years, and one thing Nora gratefully never felt was alone.
ChapterTwo
Her phone rang,startling her from her fixation on the bird feeder. As expected, it was Chloe. Nora was always happy when she received a call from her daughter rather than a text.
“Hey, Mom! What are you doing?” Chloe paused for a moment and chuckled as she said, “Um … hello? Just a reminder I called you on FaceTime and your video is on!”
Nora snorted. “Oops! Didn’t notice that.”
“Obviously,” ChIoe said. “I was staring into your ear!”
Laughing, Nora held the phone in front of herself and grinned at her daughter. She quickly ran her fingers through her ash-blonde highlighted hair, cropped just below her ears.
“Gah! Sorry about that! Sorry about my messy hair too. I may not have combed it today. No makeup either,” she said.
“You look just fine, Mom. You always do … even with bedhead.” Chloe paused for a moment and scrunched her eyes before she said, “Were you writing with music blaring? You kind of have that look.”
“Well, yes … and no, to answer your question. I have been attempting to write. But it’s not working. I did decide to play some music, but I turned it off when a magical snowstorm began. You know how I feel about the first snowstorm … especially when it’s perfect.”
Chloe nodded and gave a thumbs-up. “Obvs, you’re still not over your writer’s block! That’s a bummer. And I know how you adore first snowstorms. I can hear you sighing across the Atlantic.”
“Got that right,” Nora replied. “It’s an absolutely beautiful soft snowfall—so quiet and serene. I’ve been jumping for joy at the window. Literally.”
“I get the picture,” Chloe said.
“I’m already fantasizing about getting on the slopes and hope it’s as good a winter as last year. It’s all relative, as we know. I had twenty great ski days last season, so no complaints.”
“And since you are strictly a fair-weather skier now, those must have been picture-perfect days. But as a change of scene, how about Christmas in Paris with a side trip to the vineyards of Provence? That’s what I’m calling about.”
Nora grinned. “Ha! Any time in Paris sounds good to me. But are you serious? I was just there in June and, um, as we know, you do enjoy your independence and your busy life. Isn’t it a bit soon for me to be there, lurking?”
“Mom! You don’t lurk! You know Olivier and I love having you visit us. We can hardly keep up with you.”
Chloe had gone to Paris to study art after graduating from OCAD University at the Art Gallery of Ontario. Her plan to stay for one year turned into two, and then three, before she married her charmingly serious Frenchman, Olivier, and that was that. Nora believed Chloe had made good decisions, as she had never seen her often-temperamental daughter so decidedly happy and content.
It had been three years since Chloe married Oli. Nora made at least one visit each year and always rented a studio apartment near them, so they all had their privacy.
“Okay, I just like you to tell me that, so I don’t worry about being an overbearing mother.”
