“You’ve been a patient boy,” she told him, scratching his back.
At ten o’clock, Chloe texted.
Chloe: Crêpes with us at le Moulin in half an hour. How does that sound?
In exactly half an hour, they were seated. The waiter brought Atticus a treat and bowl of water and chatted with the dog for a moment. Then he took their order.
“So! Another exciting evening with the oh-so-handsome Monsieur Luc!” Chloe teased. She gave her mother a sly look, implying Nora might be keeping secrets.
Nora knew she was blushing. Laughing, she gave Chloe a light kick under the table. “You and Olivier should come with us next week. I can’t describe how much fun it is. Everyone is so welcoming and just loves to dance. It’s like a drug! And yes, Luc is undeniably so goddam good-looking, but he’s good-looking inside too and just the best company. Giselle has excellent taste in companions.”
“Or whatever you call him,” Chloe said, laughing and not trying to be disparaging at all.
“Chloe, let’s go next time,” Olivier said. “I know people who frequent that club and they describe it the same way as your mom. We need to have some fun like we did at Au Lapin Agile when your mother first arrived.”
“You’re right, mon chou. Especially now,” Chloe said as her mouth turned down in a frown.
“What’s wrong?” Nora asked, feeling concerned as she reached for Chloe’s hand.
“Pierre. Monsieur Moreau. Mon beau-père. My father-in-law.”
“My father is in town” Olivier said, giving a classic Gallic shrug.
“Oh! Were you expecting him now? What’s the problem?”
Olivier shook his head, his lips firmly pressed together.
The waiter arrived with their crêpes. Savory, with ham, cheese, and eggs for Olivier, sweet for Chloe and Nora, with Nutella and banana and a dab of Chantilly on the side.
“Are we going to order these together for the rest of our lives?” Nora asked as she cut into hers and dipped the bite into the whipped cream.
“Oui! Bien sûr!” Chloe said, and then they both sang, “Tradition!” like the song inFiddler on the Roof, which made them laugh. Olivier grinned and gave them an amused look as he shook his head. Atticus stood up, surveying the room with his ears perked, unsure of the commotion around him.
Nora laughed and gave his back a rub before he lay down again under the table.
“Okay, back to Monsieur Moreau. If you recall, I only met him briefly at your wedding. He had long hair and was always talking with his friends. In fact, I felt he ignored me, and I truly wondered if he even spoke much English. Remember?” Nora said as she dug into her crêpe.
“Oh yes,” Chloe said, letting out a long sigh. “Oh, how we remember. But his divorce was still raw and we knew he would not be the life of the party. I think I had warned you.”
“And!” Nora added, “He wore sunglasses practically all the time! That I remember. It was a sunny day, but that was ridiculous.”
Olivier gave Nora an apologetic look. “I’ve always felt badly about his behavior at our marriage. But our dear friends made up for his lack of hospitality. I was also sorry that my grandparents were indisposed with Mami’s hip replacement surgery.”
Nora said, “Your friends were so delightful. It was a lovely casual and intimate wedding lunch … so refreshing compared to most over-the-top North American wedding extravaganzas.”
Chloe piped up. “Getting back to my beau-pére, here are the quick details as I know them. I guess we were so wrapped up in ourselves, we never did tell you the whole story. This happened before I came on the scene. Ever since his divorce five years ago, he’s been angry and bitter. Seriously. He’s so mad at his ex-wife and just can’t get over it. She was Oli’s stepmom.
“As you know, Oli’s mother died in a car accident when he was just ten.” Her voice trailed off, and she paused, her expression clouded with sorrow. She reached out and gently took Olivier’s hand, holding it in a silent gesture of shared grief.
Nora stopped eating and put down her fork. She felt a knot in her stomach as she saw the strained look on Olivier’s drawn face.
Nora’s expression grew solemn. She understood and she knew that Chloe did too. They both carried the quiet pain of such a loss. “Yes,” she said softly. “It’s so sad. I’m sorry, Olivier.”
Olivier closed his eyes and nodded. “Merci. It was a very long time ago. Her name was Annalise, and I have happy, loving memories of her. She encouraged us to speak English and French. Those years of our family are the most important part of who I am. And it’s the same for my father.” He nodded for Chloe to continue.
“Angelique is quite nice, just … um … flighty might be a good word. She lives in Costa Rica now with her new, and I might add younger, husband. So, we don’t see her at all.”
Olivier’s face was overtaken by an expression of chagrin. “The divorce was messy and, truthfully, they had never been happy. My strongest memories of them together are of their loud shouting matches. They never should have married.”
