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“Nervous, I guess,” I said. “It’s a big deal, meeting your family.”
“They’ll love you,” he said. He took off his sunglasses, twisted them by the stem. “Are you thinking about last night?”
“The mugging or what came after?” I asked, trying for levity. “We went from terrifying and awful, to glorious and sublime in record time. It seems impossible it all happened in the same night.”
He leaned over and kissed me and I smiled, but the unsettled feeling wouldn’t leave. “I keep thinking I forgot something at the townhouse. Or that I left a burner on or the front door unlocked. And then I remember my violin is gone.”
He dropped his empty gaze. “I’m sorry, Charlotte.”
“It’s not your fault, Noah,” I said gently. “You have to know that. But now that it’s all over, I feel like I’ve lost a limb or something. Stupid, really. I’ve hardly touched the thing in a year. Not seriously, anyway. But I was just starting to feel something again.” I heaved a sigh and brightened my smile. “Anyway, yes, I’m very nervous about meeting your family. But Lucien will be there, oui?”
“Yeah, he and my father are on a working vacation, I guess.”
“Good,” I said, sitting back. “It’ll be good to see him again.”
The closer the train got to Connecticut, the more nervous I became. I wasn’t exactly smooth while socializing with people my own age, never mind those that lived in huge, sprawling manors and had names like Grayson Lake III. I felt like a country bumpkin. Or like a hippie, in my loose bohemian dress and sandals. I imagined they were all tall like Noah too, and I’d be the little child tripping at their heels.
The New Canaan train station was neat and quaint-looking, and Lucien Caron, waiting there for us, looked just as neat and quaint. He stood almost alone on the platform in his pale-yellow suit and paler-blue ascot with a diamond winking from the center in the brilliant sunshine. I watched with tears in my eyes as Lucien took Noah by the shoulders and slowly drew him into a tight embrace.
“Oh, my boy.” Lucien dabbed his eyes with a silk handkerchief.
“Okay, okay.” Noah cleared his throat.
“Charlotte, ma chére,” Lucien said, and it was my turn for a hug. He smelled of expensive clothes, cologne, and his Dunhill cigarettes. He didn’t say anything for fear of making Noah self-conscious, but when he pulled away, his eyes spoke volumes of gratitude.
“Ava arrived late last night,” Lucien said after we’d stowed our luggage—one rolling bag each—in the trunk of his silver Cadillac sedan. “She’s very…curious to see you, Noah.”
“I’ll bet,” he said darkly. I glanced at him. All the hard edges and lines had returned to his face and when I offered to sit in the backseat, he bit off a smart remark about the view being all the same to him.
“Hey.” I pulled him aside while Lucien discreetly smoked a cigarette a few feet away. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, Christ, I’m so sorry.” Noah’s eyes aimlessly roamed the parking lot. “This suddenly got a lot harder than I thought. I’ve been a dick to everyone for so long, it’s like my default setting. I just know I won’t be able to take a bunch of crowing aboutimprovementandacceptanceand…”
I held his hand to my lips. “You’re going to be surrounded by people who love you and have missed you. There’s bound to be some ooh-ing and ahh-ing.”
He nodded reluctantly. “But if I ask you to run away with me, promise you’ll say yes, or I won’t get very far.”
I laughed and kissed him, and he seemed bolstered.
We departed the station with Noah sitting in the backseat and me riding shotgun. Lucien described the scenery as he drove down tree-lined streets, bordered by the most enormous houses I had ever seen. Some were barely visible behind gated walls or tucked at the end of long drives. Lucien’s running commentary was for Noah’s benefit, but he deftly directed it to me as the guest and newcomer to Connecticut.
He pulled the car into a circular drive that fronted an enormous white house with gabled third-story windows. Trees surrounded the manor on three sides, giving it the appearance of being tucked into its own miniature forest. A lush lawn that seemed too green to be real lay spread before it, buffering it from the street.
I stared up through the car window. “This is your house?”
Lucien patted my hand. “You will find quite a warm welcome within, my dear, I assure you.”
I nodded and slipped out of the car wishing I had worn something a little less casual than my dress and sandals.
Like a tiara or one of those fur stoles that have the fox head still attached.
Noah and Lucien trundled the luggage behind them, and Noah took my arm with his free hand. His face was drawn, and I decided if one of us was going to freak out, I should probably let it be him. I was out of my element, but Noah’s expression was a tumult of regret and longing. I kissed his cheek.
“I’m here for you.”
His hard edges softened with gratitude. “And that’s how I get through this weekend.”
Lucien led us up a paved stone walk and opened one of the two enormous wrought iron and glass doors. I followed with Noah on my arm behind me as we stepped into a foyer laid with hard wood in a rich caramel color and white walls.
