Page 97 of At the Ready


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I’m stunned by Micki’s flat statement, but we have more to deal with than her job.

We sip coffee and stare at each other. Yawning hugely, she says, “I think sake is not the drink for me.”

“We all had a lot to drink. That much of anything alcoholic would have the same effect.” I prop my left ankle on my right knee and rub the still-warm cup against exposed skin. The combination of the smooth ceramic and the warmth from the retained heat help me focus. “Micki, let me explain to you what happened in Vancouver.”

Her head bobs in agreement and one knot in my chest disappears.

“First, I love you. I am committed to a life together. You are my person, and I hope I am yours as well.”

She’s utterly still, lips slightly parted, eyes huge.

“I was stupid that night. When Maman asked me to drive Angélique home, my intention was to drop her off, watch to make sure she got into the house safely with the boys, and return home. She asked me to walk them in. The neighborhood isn’t great, so I agreed. Once she put them to bed, she started crying, so I stayed for a drink.” A pause, and a chance to figure out what to say next.

“And?” Her eyes are eyes are fiery with suspicion.

“And nothing. I sat with her until she seemed to be calm, then I left.”

“She arrived while your mother and I were drinking coffee. Told me you were engaged. Showed me a ring. A family ring, platinum with a square-cut diamond. Your mother was over the moon. Then Yannick arrived with my phone and the solution seemed so simple.” She gulps, while tears run down her cheeks and drip off her chin. “Your mother couldn’t wait for me to pack my bag.”

“All lies. When Angélique was helping Maman…” My neck heats when I think of my mother’s actions. Not dishonest, perhaps, but certainly callous.

“Angélique went through Maman’s dresser and found the ring. Then she hatched her scheme.” I cough and drink more coffee. “Unfortunately, despite Angélique’s fraudulent claim, Maman still thinks I should marry her. She’s become too attached to the boys.”

Micki rubs at her wet eyes, her runny nose. A strangled sound rises and falls. It’s a cry of pain and betrayal. “I can’t marry you, JL. If your mother won’t accept me—”

I press my lips against hers. She’s not allowed to say these things. To think these things. She is the most important person. “My mother’s acceptance isn’t important. Please forgive me,” I whisper. “If I have to choose, I choose you.”

The telephone rings.

I let it go to voice mail.

It starts again.

Voice mail.

The third time, Micki grabs my phone. I shake my head no, but she answers anyway. I expect to hear Maman haranguing, even though Micki hasn’t put it on speaker. She listens intently, then tries to hand me the device. When I refuse to take it, she looks around, then mimes writing. I open the shallow drawer in the coffee table for a piece of paper and a pencil. The pencil point breaks, and she silently begs for another writing instrument. Frowning, I hand her a pen.

“Go ahead,” she says, then scrawls what might be a name, whether a person or a place I can’t tell.

“Yes, I understand,” she says after writing what looks like a series of numbers. “Let me read this back.”

I hum to block out her voice. There’s a pause and we are both still and silent.

“Yes. I will let him know.” And she ends the call, leans toward me, elbows resting on her knees. “JL, you have to go back to Vancouver.”

What the fuck? “I just got home. Why should I go back? Maman and I are not speaking, and until she apologizes, there will be no speaking. I’ve just told you that you’re it for me.”

Her eyes look hazy with unshed tears. “You’re it for me too. But you have to do this. Your mom…”

My chest fills with flames as I think of Maman and what she did to me, to us, so I wave off her words. “Non. Pas interessant. Je resterai toujours ici.”

Micki slaps at my arm. “Listen to me. You have to go. Louisette is in the hospital. Maybe a heart attack.”

I close my ears to her pleas. “Probably another fake, trying to get me back to Vancouver.”

“I talked to the doctor at the hospital.”

“Could be she got one of her friends to call and impersonate a doctor.”

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