“But if you can make it fly, you could, you know,” he said. “You wouldn’t be abandoning me.”
It was like he’d read her mind—sensed the nagging worries she’d had all summer about leaving him alone in shark-infested waters (Bill and Iris being the sharks).
“I’m feeling much better,” he said. “The meds have kicked in, and even though my future’s unknown, I feel lighter about it. Hopeful, even. Plus—we’re adults. I adore you, but you need to do what’s best for you—you and Sabine. And yes, I know you feel responsible for me—Lord knows I feel responsible for you, what with your endless shenanigans—but we’re grown-ups, and I can take care of myself. Say it with me: ‘I will do what’s best for Marlow and Sabine.’ ”
Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she said, “I will do what’s best for Marlow and Sabine.”
In the afternoons, Noah had explored the countryside with Pierre, Bill, and Iris, ostensibly to keep them out of Marlow’s hair, but really, Marlow could tell, because of Pierre. The French vocabulary Noah had learned in school was coming back, and he was having a great time flirting with a cute tour guide who had a sense of humor and joie de vivre—a real thing! It was the first spark she’d seen in him in years, and it made her happy that the twists and turns in her own life had unexpectedly brought him joy.
Working for Renegade had also been busier than busy. She leaned on Akiko to back her up so that Oscar couldn’t blame her for not focusing enough on the festival. She, Akiko, and Gustavo were in pretty constant contact through their group chat, which he was still a part of, even though he no longer worked at the festival. This also meant that she and Akiko got updates about how he was doing in LA. His mega feature was going better than he could have imagined. It was in its last month of prep, and the production had rented him a convertible to get around Hollywood so he could lunch with the director and famous actors on the patios of expensive restaurants. Marlow and Akiko had done the requisite oohing and ahhing, but inside, Marlow had died a bit.
Marlow had assumed it would be impossible to sell fundraiser tickets, but she knew more people in the area than she thought. Corinne La Boulangère in Nenier not only said her whole family would come but offered desserts for the event, and six months of daily fresh baguette for the silent auction.
Gérard, the old man whose coop had been destroyed in the storm, remembered Marlow from when she had chased down his chickens and replaced his coop’s metal roof. He offered eggs for a year.
The Neufchâteau hardware store owner adored her, given she’d spent the summer lining his pockets, and offered a high-end toilet as a silent auction item. It made her laugh, but she also coveted it for Maison Perdue.
Fedir had talked up the event at the champagnerie, and Guillaume bought tickets for all of his employees. He also offered a crate of his best vintage for the live auction and suggested the other vintners nearby do the same. Noah was salivating at the thought.
She reflected on all the things she hadn’t yet done for the fundraiser, including telling her parents about it. Somehow, she’d forgotten to do that. They would not be happy.
Then she imagined the party itself, and hopefully how special it would be. There would be food, an auction, dancing … And who would she dance with? Guillaume? Luc? Neither? Both? She drifted back to them fighting over her when Ruth had come by Maison Perdue, and then facing them outside the house when her parents had arrived, vying for her hand. It was ridiculous to have two men on the go—two men wanting her … and yet also, admittedly, the best thing ever. She had no idea which one she wanted—and she had no idea if they were both even still game. But the potential of desire, of intimacy, of maybe even love, was enough to let her forget all the things on her massive to-do list and finally drift off.
It was after lunch on the big day. Sabine took in Mirabelle’s square, full of people in serious prep mode. She and Aubin hung paper lanterns and the French flag bunting, Fedir strung up tiny lights, Guillaume laid out tables and chairs he’d sourced from various vineyards in the area, and Lali was setting up food stations for a buffet.
Marlow, Yakiv, and Madame Belleville cleaned the storefronts around the square. Madame Belleville had out her broom and dustpan; Marlow and Yakiv were using sponges and buckets of soapy water. Yakiv swished the water to make bubbles, then squeezed the big sponge and lathered up everything, including himself.
Madame Belleville got winded, so Sabine and Marlow each took an arm and sat her down on the bench. Luc had replaced its rotten planks of wood. She patted the bench beside her so that they would join her. She looked around with great pleasure at the return of her village square and said in very broken, heavily accented English: “For the persons who are parted, I am sad. And I am old. But I amcontentefor this new Mirabelle life. You two, I thank.”
“Ce n’était pas nous,” said Marlow, trying to deny she and Sabine had anything to do with it. But Madame Belleville gave her a stern look.
“You are a special one. We are lucky for you.”
Sabine saw her mum tear up and look away to hide her misty eyes.
“Keep Madame Belleville company,” said Marlow, heading down the Mirabelle stairs.
Madame Belleville had become a sort of grandmother to Sabine, and truth be told, she liked her more than her own grandmother. Madame Belleville was grumpy, but she had softened over the summer, and beneath that gruff exterior, she cared.
It was the last Saturday of August. The fundraiser was tonight, the appeal for Maison Perdue first thing tomorrow, and Sabine and her mum were supposed to be back on a flight later that evening. This morning, Sabine and Aubin had gone to the Nenier parking lot to call Willa for last-minute fundraiser advice. Sabine had downloaded her email at the same time and had found urgent emails from all of the universities that had accepted her, saying that if they did not hear from her by this Tuesday, they’d be forced to give up her spot. Her brain was packed with facts, figures, and formulae that had gotten her a hundred percent across the board in high school—but what to do about this, she had no clue.
As if sensing Sabine’s distress, Madame Belleville reached across the bench for her hand.
“Et la robe?”she asked.
Sabine looked at her.“La robe?”
“Oui, la robeyou will have tonight.”
Sabine had not given one thought to a dress.
“Viens,”said Madame Belleville, getting up. But when they turned, they found Bill and Iris coming up the stairs with Noah and Pierre. Did her grandparents even know about this event? Crap.
Sabine turned to Madame Belleville. “Je viens tout de suite.” She would be right there.
“So your mother’s having a party,” said Bill, surveying the activity in the square. “Noah let it slip on our drive today.”
“I didn’t ‘let it slip,’ ” said Noah. “You make it sound like a state secret.”
