AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She yawns at the end of her sentence and I decide that’s my cue to let her go and figure out what the fuck I'm going to do with myself.
“Okay, baby. Listen, I'm sorry I wasn’t there when you got back. But I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll talk then, okay?”
“Okay, Dean,” she mumbles and I know she's crying. I’ve never felt more useless in my life.
“I love you. I will be there tomorrow. And we’ll do this together.” I try to sound sure of myself, even though I’m not sure Milly will want anything to do with me once I tell her everything.
“I love you, too. Please hurry, I need you,” she whispers, sounding so defeated and scared. No one has ever needed me, not just for me. And I won’t let her down even if it means I’ll be putting our relationship at risk.
“And I need you. So, take care of yourself until I can get there.”
And then I disconnect and walk out into the bright, blue sunshine of the Cote d’Azur, otherwise known as the French Rivera.
All of the beauty of my surroundings are completely lost to me as I hop into a waiting cab and give them my mother’s address. Marseille is about fifteen miles from the airport, so I have thirty minutes to sit back and think while we zoom past the coastline.
My mother has been spending her summers here since my father died. And now I know she's doing it with money she blackmailed Milly’s father for.
I don’t know how today will end, but I know that when I walk out of her house, I’m also going to be walking out of her life. Even if Milly can’t see herself being with me after everything, it’s time for me to realize that I was born to a woman who did her duty to me by raising me, but she doesn’t owe me more than this and clearly doesn’t want to give me more, either.
MARSEILLE
We pull up outside my mother’s white stucco, red tile roofed beach house. I can smell the salt of the Mediterranean Sea in the breeze. The dichotomy between the beauty around me and the pain and ugliness whirling around inside of me is so startling, I have to catch my breath before I get out of the cab.
I pay the man, hop out, and walk up the steep stone steps that lead to my mother’s front door. I can hear an upbeat pop song playing in the house, and I steel myself. That my mother is enjoying herself seems unfathomable to me. But I'm going to get to the bottom of everything today.
I knock loudly. I can hear my mother’s voice shout something in French. I can’t make it out, and I don’t try. I just knock again. In the middle of my second knock, the door flies open and a young woman, no older than seventeen, opens the door.
“Bonjour, monsieur. Puis-je vous aider?” Hello, sir. Can I help you?
“Oui, je cherche Madame Orleans.” I tell her I'm looking for my mother and her eyes grow suspicious.
She opens her mouth to ask me another question when my mother appears like an apparition behind her.
“Dean!” She looks like she has seen a ghost as she stares at me. “What in the world are you doing here?” she asks me, but somehow, I know it’s not genuine surprise.
The girl ducks out of the doorway and scampers up the stairs right behind her.
My mother stands there staring at me. I take her in. Her blond hair is caught in a chignon at the base of her neck. She’s dressed in a white billowy sundress, her skin is perfectly golden, and she’s barefoot. She looks totally at peace.
I step past her and into her house. I’ve only been here once before, a long time ago. I see they have renovated the space. The whole downstairs is one huge room that incorporates a dining room, living room, and a library. At the opposite end of the entrance of the house is a wall of glass doors that open to a veranda.
I look at my mother who is watching me. The way a mouse might watch a lion. She looks petrified. She should be.
“Can we go out there and talk?” I ask as I nod toward the veranda.
“Well, Jean-Luc will be back any moment, so . . . ,” she hedges, looking around like she’s planning an escape route.
“Well, then it will be better, if we are outside when he does so that he doesn’t overhear what we are about to discuss. Unless of course he already knows about your treachery.”
She blanches, but doesn’t say a word. She simply starts walking. She gives me a wide berth when she passes me. Yet, she looks back over her shoulder at me when she steps outside. Her eyes lock with mine, and for the first time I see honest, naked, regret in my mother’s eyes.
“So, you know,” she says as I sit down on one of the wooden lounge chairs they have on the terrace.
“What do I know, Mother?” I ask her slowly and calmly. My tone is at odds with the way I feel. I'm afraid. I have no idea what she's going to say next.
“Ed called me, asking me all sorts of questions. He said he ran into you, and you mentioned your father’s life insurance policy.”
She looks out over the balcony, staring at the ocean view this beautiful home comes with. She takes a deep inhale and releases it on an unsteady breath.
