CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE APARTMENT WAS coated with thick dust and a deep layer of memories. They choked her, suffocated her, made her throat ache and her eyes sting. It hadn’t changed. Nothing had changed and everywhere she looked she saw her mother. And mistakes.
The feelings she’d buried pushed their way to the surface. Picking up a pot she’d made in school when she was eight years old, she turned it over in her hand, remembering her mother’s delight on the day she’d brought it home.
She’d just been kidding herself, hadn’t she? When she’d thought she’d moved on, she’d been kidding herself. All she’d done was ignore the past, block it out, refuse to look at it like a child closing her eyes in a dark room so that she couldn’t see what was there. But she hadn’t really moved on. There was a big black hole in her life and instead of filling it in, she’d fenced it off and tiptoed around it, afraid to look at it, afraid that if she took one wrong step she’d fall back in.
Tired after the long flight and crushed by the memories, she collapsed on top of the bed, unable to sleep, and spent the night thinking of her mother, tortured by guilt, knowing she couldn’t live here, sharing this tiny apartment with the ghosts of her past.
But she couldn’t go back, either.
Sean didn’t need another reason to stay away from Snow Crystal. The O’Neils didn’t need someone disrupting their family.
In the morning she threw open the shutters and stood for a moment watching sunshine dance across the roofs of Paris. The apartment was tiny but the position perfect, just a few steps from the river Seine. If she stood on tiptoe and peeped out of the small bathroom window she could see the distinctive architecture of the Louvre.
With light and fresh air pouring into the apartment, she started clearing.
It took her two days.
She filled huge sacks with clothing and possessions. Some she threw away, some she took to a thrift store. She wanted no reminders of the past, no reminders of the bad choices she’d made, the consequences, the misery. The only exception to that were a few personal items of her mother’s and a collection of photographs. She’d had no idea her mother had taken so many. A quick glance showed that they ranged from baby photos right through to a clipping of Élise being the only woman in the otherwise all-male kitchen of Chez Laroche. Finding an empty shoe box she stuffed them inside, promising herself that she’d look at them properly one day, hoping the time would come when she’d be able to go through them without feeling bad.
When she’d finished clearing, she vacuumed, polished and wiped until the place gleamed and not a speck of dust remained.
It helped her to keep busy, to occupy her mind and to not think.
She tried not to think about cooking with her mother, about those dark days with Pascal. But the one thing she absolutely couldn’t stop thinking about was the O’Neils.
What would they be doing now? She glanced at her phone and calculated the time difference. It would be morning in Vermont and they’d be serving breakfast in the Boathouse.
Kayla would be on her phone, checking emails. Tyler would be eyeing the female guests and grumbling about the work. Walter would be overdoing it. Alice would be knitting and worrying and Elizabeth would be busy in the kitchens with Poppy. And Jackson, dear Jackson, would be keeping everything going, steering the ship into deeper water so it didn’t smash to pieces on the rocks.
Did they miss her? Did they think of her?
No, probably not.
She’d let Jackson down. After everything he’d done for her, she’d let him down.
To drive out the guilt and the misery she worked herself to the point of exhaustion but still she couldn’t sleep and at night she lay awake in the bed listening to the scream of car engines, horns and sounds of the city finding it impossible not to think of Heron Lodge.
She missed the peace of the lake, the nights when the only sound was the hoot of an owl swooping overhead. She missed the smell of the water and the fresh scent of the forest.
She missed Sean.
Not that she loved him, because she absolutely didn’t. She’d switched that part of herself off, refused to allow her emotions access to her decision-making or the way she lived her life. But they’d had a wonderful summer and she missed him. She missed the laughter, the flirting, his intelligence, his appreciation of food and wine and yes, she missed the sex. And she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Had he been home since that day he’d told her he loved her? Was he still staying away?
She hoped not.
She rose early and was sitting on the floor, sorting listlessly through yet another drawer full of photographs when she heard the unmistakable sound of male footsteps on the curving staircase that led to her top-floor apartment.
She’d barely left the apartment except for her few trips to the shops. It was unlikely that anyone she knew had spotted her. Even less likely that Pascal would take the trouble to pay her a visit.
All the same her heart stumbled as she heard the footsteps pause outside her door.
Had Pascal somehow found out she was back?
“Élise?”
Her heart stumbled as she recognized Sean’s voice.
Sean was in Paris?
Scrambling to her feet, she pulled open the door. “What are you doing here? Has something happened to Walter? Or Jackson?”
“Why do you always assume that when I show up there has to be bad news?” He held up a bottle of wine. “I found this amazing bottle of Pinot Noir and I have no one to drink it with. It’s wasted on Tyler and Jackson is too busy.”
She gave a choked laugh. “So you flew to Paris?”
“I don’t know anyone who appreciates wine and food like you do.”
She stared at the wine, then at him. “What are you doing here? You should be in Boston, working.”
“Some things are more important than work.” He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation and dropped his bag on the floor. “I heard you were in Paris. I thought you might need a friend.”
“A friend?”
“I don’t blame you for looking surprised. I don’t claim to be an experienced friend, but I have had plenty of experience of going back to a place that has bad memories so I figure I can learn the rest as I go along.”
She was still dizzy from the shock of seeing him on her doorstep. “How did you find me?”
“I threatened Jackson until he revealed everything he could remember about the view from the window. I got here and worked it out. There aren’t that many apartments that give a view of the river and the Louvre. I banged on a few doors and woke a few people up.” He put the wine down on the counter and glanced around him. “Nice place.”
“It’s tiny.” And it seemed even tinier now that Sean was standing in it. Broad and powerfully built, he filled the space but there was something so reassuring about his presence she felt the tension rush out of her. She should send him away but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“If you’re done cleaning, do you feel like showing me around? Taking me to your favorite parts of Paris? You should have phoned me to tell me you were thinking of coming, then we could have flown together.”
“I wouldn’t have done that.”
“No. You’re too scared that calling me will turn what we have into a relationship. I get that.” He opened cupboards until he found wineglasses. “So, I’m starving and there’s nothing to eat here. What’s wrong? Your kitchen is usually crammed with food.”
“I didn’t feel like cooking.” Because everything reminded her of her mother and remembering hurt too much. And perhaps he realized that because he watched her for a long moment and then nodded.
“Right. Well I’m doubly glad I came because if you don’t feel like cooking then I know there’s something wrong. So where is the best place for dinner?”
“Close by? There is only a local brasserie.”
“That will do fine.”
“Sean, what are you doing here?”
He poured wine into glasses and handed her one. “I never thanked you properly, did I?”
“Thanked me for what?”
“For being there this summer. For pushing me to fix things with Gramps. For listening while I talked about Dad. For all of it.”
“I didn’t do anything. You did it. You have nothing to thank me for.” She sipped the wine and it was so good, for a moment she closed her eyes. It made her think of Snow Crystal, of summer, of him.
“Being with you got me through this summer. When I got the news that Gramps had collapsed—” he put his glass down slowly “—I felt as if I’d been kicked in the gut by a moose. And then when he told me to get back to Boston—I had no idea how to fix it—how to bridge that gulf.”
“He loves you. He is so proud of you.”
“I know. And I love him.” He gave a faint smile. “Listen to me, getting all mushy, as Tyler would say.”
“I’m glad things are better.”
“They are. I’ve even promised to be there for family night next month and I’m talking to Brenna about helping put together a pre-conditioning program for the winter.” He looked at the stack of shoe boxes on the floor. “What are those?”
“Photographs.” She felt an ache in her chest. “My mother took a lot of photographs. I can’t face looking at them yet but I can’t bring myself to throw them away, either. I’m glad things are better at home for you, but that still doesn’t tell me what you’re doing here.”
“So far you’ve done all the supporting in this friendship, so I figured it was my turn. I thought I’d hang around in case you need someone to carry heavy boxes or punch ex-husbands.”
Her gaze met his. “You’d crumple your shirt.”
“Some things are worth the sacrifice.” He lifted his glass and drank. “So have you heard from him?”
“No. And I don’t want to.”
“Well, you don’t need to worry about it now because I’m here so if he shows up, he and I can have a little conversation. And talking of conversations, it’s your turn to tell me what you’re doing here.” He leaned against the counter, his broad shoulders dominating the narrow kitchen area. “What are you doing back in Paris when I know how much you love Snow Crystal? I know how much you love your job.”
“I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago. I was a coward. I avoided coming back here because the place was full of bad memories.”
“So put the apartment up for sale and then get yourself back to Snow Crystal. Winter is coming. Everyone is planning how to make the best of this season. You’re an essential part of the team.”
Something twisted inside her but she shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Fine. So don’t sell it. Rent it.”
“It isn’t this place. I will sell it. I have someone coming around tomorrow to do a valuation. But I won’t be coming back to Snow Crystal. I’ll find somewhere else. Maybe not Paris. Maybe Bordeaux.”
“Why? Because I told you I loved you and scared the hell out of you? That was a mistake.” His voice was soft. “If I promise never to say it again, will you come back?”
“You think it was a mistake?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Big mistake.”
It was ridiculous to feel disappointed about something that she didn’t want, anyway. It made no sense.
None of her feelings made any sense.
“You’re right. We should go out.” She grabbed her purse and her keys and ushered Sean out the door. “Tell me how everyone is. How is Walter? Is he using his new machine to cut logs? And Alice? How’s her knitting coming along? Are Elizabeth and Poppy coping well in the kitchen?”
“I have no idea. You know I leave the running of Snow Crystal to my brother. You’ll have to ask him when you see him.”
She ignored that. “How did you know I had left?”
“Jackson came to the hospital ready to punch me. For the record, that’s the first time I’ve seen my brother spoiling for a fight. Normally he’s the one breaking them up.” They reached the street and Sean caught her arm as a moped sped past, almost mowing her down.
She felt the strength of his fingers on her skin, breathed in the male scent and the desire to kiss him was almost overwhelming. Almost.
She pulled away. “He punched you? Jackson would never do that.”
“No. But it was a close thing. That’s how much he cares about you. He creased my shirt.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “I told him it wasn’t your fault.”
“He didn’t believe you. If I come back without you my life won’t be worth living.”
It was a perfect late-summer evening and they ate in the little brasserie, sitting elbow to elbow with tourists and locals and drinking house wine and simple food. Then they walked along the river, watching the sun set over the Louvre.
Sean told her about his work at the hospital, about his research and then made her laugh with stories of Tyler’s neck-breaking exploits growing up.
The only thing they didn’t talk about was the fact he’d told her he loved her.
“Where are you staying tonight?”
“I’ve booked a hotel down the street. I wasn’t sure you’d feel like company.” He took the key from her and let them both into her apartment, watching her face as she paused by the door. “Bad memories?”
“Mostly guilt. I hate that my last words to my mother were angry and that she died without knowing how much I loved her. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Shaking it off, she walked to the little kitchen area. “Coffee?”
“Thanks.” He sprawled on the sofa, next to the boxes of photos she’d stacked earlier. “I know you don’t want to look at the photos, but do you mind if I look?”
“Go ahead.” Maybe she should have thrown them away. What was the point in keeping something that just made her feel worse?
She made coffee and placed a mug on the little table in front of him. “I miss my coffee machine.”
“We all miss you making coffee with your coffee machine. Élise, you should look at these.”
She kept her back to him. “I can’t. Not yet. Maybe one day.”
“You really should look at them.”
“Sean—”
“You weren’t sure if your mother knew you loved her and I can tell you for sure that she did.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’m looking at the evidence, sweetheart. You should come take a look, too.”
She turned and saw him leafing through photographs.
“Where was this taken?” He showed her a photo and she smiled, remembering.
“The top of the Arc De Triomphe. I was eight. I climbed to the top and was very proud of myself.” Despite her reluctance, she sat down next to him.
“And this?” He went through the photos, asking when, why, how until she felt crowded by memories.
“Put them away, Sean.”
He slid the photos back into the box and closed the lid. “I messed up with my grandfather but he forgave me because that’s what families do. And even when I was angry with him, there wasn’t a moment when I didn’t love him. And he knew that.”
“I know. The moment you heard he was in the hospital you dropped everything and came. But your family is different.”
“Your mother knew you loved her. It’s all here.” He lowered the box gently onto her lap. “She knew you loved her and she loved you right back, which is why she wanted the best for you. It’s what we always want for people we love. You can’t switch that on and off. Cross words don’t change that.” He stood up. “I have to fly back tomorrow. Come with me.”
She felt the tug of longing and ignored it. “I can’t do that.”
“Snow Crystal is your home. Everyone misses you. You should be there.” He hesitated and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her but then he walked to the door. “If you change your mind or if you need anything, call me.”
“I won’t. I’ve never called you.”
His eyes gleamed. “I’ve never said ‘I love you’ before last week, which just proves anything can happen. My number is in your phone.”