Page 20

Part 10

“Where the Light Shines Through”

July

Recovery from surgery goes faster than I expected. As the doctor ordered, I make sure to move around every day and build my stamina back up little by little. The incisions aren’t as gnarly as I thought they’d be, once I’m able to take the Steri-Strips off, and I can tell my surgeon knows what she’s doing by how quickly everything starts to heal. I’m still a little concerned about how everything will look and feel later on, but for now, I’m feeling pretty good.

I’ve started back to work this week, and Nate has me mostly working on admin—emails, invoices, inquiry forms, etc. I told him I could do more, but he’s juggling everything else for the time being since I’m “supposed to be taking it easy at home.” I tried pointing out to him that we work out of his home, so it shouldn’t matter if I’m working from here or there, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

I’m just getting ready to send the Bon Voyage email to the Goffin family for their New Zealand trip, when I receive a text from Roddy. He’s been checking in every day about this time to see how I’m doing, which is so sweet, especially since he’s been in New York City all this week for some solo concerts up there. He’s also sent me chocolates and eBooks to make the recovery more bearable.

Roddy: My mother asked me to invite you to dinner at their house on Saturday evening.

Roddy: You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’d love to see you.

Roddy: Camille and her husband will also be there, if that helps anything.

Dinner with his parents? Are we really to that stage? I honestly don’t know why I’m panicking about this. I’ve already met his mother and his sister, and they both seemed to like me. But meeting both parents seems to be a big step. After a couple of deep breaths, I respond.

Clare: I’d love to. What time?

Roddy: 5:30. Unfortunately, I’ll be coming straight from the airport and won’t be able to pick you up. Do you mind meeting there?

Clare: Not a problem. Just send me their address. Anything I can bring?

Roddy: She said you don’t need to bring anything.

Clare: Okay. But I will anyway, so is there something in particular they like?

Roddy: I’ll think about that and get back to you.

Clare: Sounds good.

Roddy: Sorry, I gotta go get ready for my next concert. Talk later?

Clare: Sure thing. Play well.

Roddy:

So, now not only am I having dinner with his parents, I’m also going to have to take the bus there. I really hope they live close to a bus stop. If not, I guess I’ll have to wear my good walking shoes or ask someone to drive me.

* * *

Thankfully, his parents do live within a quarter mile of a bus stop, so I didn’t need to wear my clunky sneakers to dinner. When I get off at the stop, I’m about thirty minutes early, so I walk around their neighborhood a little bit before locating their house. They live in one of those great older neighborhoods where all the houses look different, and you can tell in what era each one was built. There are some Cape Cod-style homes, some standard ranch homes, some bungalows and some that were definitely built in the 1980s. Even with all the diversity in housing styles, they all feature mature trees and well-maintained lawns that give a sense of community.

The Vaughn house is a two-story home that reminds me of the house featured in Father of the Bride with Steve Martin. But, it’s more of a whitewashed brick with navy shutters and a red front door—which all goes well with the dual French and American flags flying out front. They have numerous garden areas, which are full to bursting with flowers. I walk up the brick driveway and up the two steps to the small front porch. I’m about to push the doorbell, when the door flies open suddenly. I make a startled “oh” sound and am face-to-face with a very tall Indian man, who I can only assume is Camille’s husband.

“You must be Clare,” he says, and puts out his hand. “I’m Dilip. Sorry for scaring you.”

I shake his hand. “No problem. You saved me the trouble of ringing the doorbell.” I smile. “It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Well, I was just sent out to the store for some camembert. Somehow, Sabine is all out.” He goes to step past me, but I put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Actually, I brought some camembert and water crackers with me.” I hold up the small cooler I’m carrying.

“Great,” he says. “You saved me from the hell that is the grocery store on Saturday night.”

“Happy to be of service.”

“Well, let’s not just stand here on the porch. Come on inside.” Dilip pushes open the door the rest of the way and leads me into the foyer. “It’s great to have another bi person here, by the way.” He gives me a sidelong look. “Now I won’t be the only one they tease about sitting weird. Anyway, I think they’re all in the kitchen. Follow me.”

We walk past the stairs and into an absolutely stunning dining room which is open to the enormous kitchen. Sure enough, Sabine, Camille and a man I can only assume is Roddy’s father—purely based on stature since they’re all facing away from us—are gathered around a large island covered in white marble. There’s a large pot simmering on the stove and if I’m not mistaken, we’re having ratatouille for dinner.

“You have to be joking, mother,” Camille says, taking a bite of apple. “There is no way I’m going to have this baby in a wading pool in your living room. I’m going to be at the hospital with all the sterile equipment and most especially, the drugs.”

Sabine walks around the counter and puts her hand on Camille’s shoulder. “Darling, did you not read all the studies on childbirth— Oh, Clare, you’re here!”

Camille and the man—who I’m absolutely sure is Roddy’s father now—turn around to also see Dilip and me. Camille gets up and comes over to hug me. “Hi, Clare. How are you feeling?”

I hug her back and say, “I’m doing really well. Healing nicely. How are you?”

She steps back and gestures to her stomach, and a teeny tiny baby bump. “Oh, we’re doing just fine. I don’t know if Roddy told you, but Dilip and I are expecting our first child early next year.”

“No, he hasn’t. Congratulations! That’s wonderful news,” I say.

“He probably thought I didn’t want him to tell anyone because we’re not quite out of the first trimester yet, which is sweet of him.” Then, to Dilip she asks, “Honey, weren’t you going to the store?”

“No need. Clare anticipated us and brought camembert and water crackers.” He takes the cooler from me, holds it up and beams at his wife like a man who was pardoned from a death sentence at the last moment.

“How wonderful, Clare,” Sabine says as she too comes over to hug me. When we separate, she holds out her hand to her husband as he walks over. “This is my husband, George.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” I say to him, holding out my hand. He takes it and gives a firm but not too firm handshake.

“Pleased to meet you as well. You are more lovely than Roddy described.”

I know I’m blushing ten shades of pink right now. “Thank you.”

“Clare, please come in and have a seat. Thanks to you we now have plenty of hors d'oeuvres to tide us over until Augus—I mean, Roddy, gets here.” I could tell how much it pained her to use the name he prefers versus the one she chose, but she caught herself admirably.

Sabine arranges the crackers and cheese on a glass platter, and we all tuck in. I have always loved camembert—and really all cheese—and since I splurged and got a kind of expensive one at Whole Foods, this one is particularly lovely. Sabine seems pleased as well, and if you can please a French woman with French cheese, then you must be doing something right. As much as I’m enjoying being here so far, I do glance down at my watch and notice it’s about half an hour past the time Roddy told me he’d be here.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Camille whispers to me, obviously having seen me look at the time. “You know how much of a pain airports can be.”

“Yes, definitely.” Maybe not personally, but I’ve heard from my clients. I take another bite of my cracker. “So, how did you two meet?”

“It is such a lovely story,” Sabine answers, not realizing I was actually asking Camille and Dilip. Oh well, I’d like to know how Roddy’s parents met as well, of course. Camille shrugs at me, then gets some fruit for her plate. “I was just a young woman studying art at Les Beaux-Arts de Paris, of course. One day, I’m sitting at a café sipping un café au lait, and suddenly a plate with a slice of chocolate cake is placed in front of me. I turn to tell the waiter I didn’t order anything to eat—even though I was ever so hungry and chocolate cake is my favorite dessert—but I see the person who put the cake in front of me wasn’t a waiter at all, but a young man. A very handsome young man, I might add.” Here she pauses and looks meaningfully at George. “And what did you say to me, my darling?”

“I told her she looked hungry, and I couldn’t see such a beautiful woman go hungry,” George says.

“So, I asked this American boy to sit down with me and share the cake. He got another fork and sat down next to me, and we talked all afternoon. We walked around the streets of Paris, avoiding all the touristy things, and just talked. I knew right then that he was the man for me. For, any man who will bring me chocolate cake has the key to my heart.” She takes George’s hand and holds it to her heart.

George smiles at his wife, then turns back to me. “And, the rest, as they say, is history.”

I smile back at them. “What a lovely story.”

“Camille,” Sabine says, “do tell Clare how you and Dilip met.”

Camille winks at me. “It wasn’t quite as romantic as all that, but I like our story.” She places a hand on Dilip’s knee. “I’m an interior decorator, and I was at a client’s home discussing her new living room. Color swatches, fabric samples, that kind of thing. Well, I’d just gotten Ms. Reinmiller to decide on the fabric for the sofa, when the general contractor for the kitchen remodel shows up. Now, I’ve spoken to this man countless times on the phone, but never met him in person. I had pictured this tall, burly man in his mid-sixties, but he’s actually this frail-looking, balding little man who’s probably in his eighties.”

My face must have shown my confusion, because she quickly says, “Just wait, I’m getting there,” and I nod my head for her to continue.

“So, I talk to the contractor—Raj—and find out his grandson will be joining us soon to take over the project, because he—Raj—is retiring. Sure enough, his grandson shows up and he’s this beautiful, tall man with these dark brown eyes. His smile lit up my entire world. I know it sounds totally corny, but I just knew I had to get to know him better.”

“And I was carried away by the beauty of this woman with her fabric samples and designs for a fireplace that could only be described as the Versailles of fireplaces.” Dilip shakes his head. “I thought that thing was going to be the death of me, but my lovely wife knew exactly what she was doing.”

“I always do,” Camille says, smiling.

“I asked her to dinner once the dreaded fireplace was behind me.”

Just then, I hear the front door open and close. “That’ll be Roddy,” Camille points out. “If I know him, he’ll probably go up to his old room to change clothes first before joining us.”

I nod. Feeling the call of nature, I ask, “Actually, is there a bathroom I could use?”

“Of course,” Sabine answers. “The downstairs powder room is currently out of service, but there’s a full bath at the top of the stairs and to the left you are welcome to.”

I set my plate down on the counter and head to the foyer. Next to the door, I see Roddy’s cello case propped against the wall. At the top of the stairs, I see the bathroom, and to the right, I see a partially open door. Wondering if that’s Roddy’s room, I step a little closer. I can very slightly hear movement from that room. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I walk closer still. I can see Roddy in there with his back to me. And he’s shirtless. He has a large tattoo of a cello spanning the space between his well-defined shoulders. I’ve never really seen the appeal of tattoos, but I do in this case.

Suddenly, he turns around and sees me standing here gaping. I expect him to shut the door all the way, but instead, he opens it more and gestures for me to come in. I walk into the room, and he shuts the door behind us. “I was hoping you’d come up to find me.”

I can feel myself blushing, heat rising to my face and neck. “I actually just came up to use the bathroom.”

“Ah,” he says, smirking. “Did my mother or Camille not tell you it’s on the other side of the landing?”

The blushing continues as he walks closer toward me. And, if seeing his muscular back and tattoo weren’t enough, his chest and arms are just as muscular. He puts his arms around me, and I place my hands on his warm back. Our kiss in that moment is more urgent than any of our previous kisses. His hands move up into my hair and I hook my arms around him, grabbing the back of his shoulders. Finally, when the intensity of the kiss has worked its way down to my toes, we pull apart.

“Clare,” he whispers into my hair, still holding me close.

It takes a few moments, but I remember that we are in his parents’ house, and we’re expected back downstairs. “I should really let you finish getting changed. Dinner will probably be ready soon.”

“Yeah. I’ll only be a moment, then I’ll walk you downstairs.” He picks up his shirt from the bed and starts to pull it on.

“You are going to have to tell me more about that tattoo sometime,” I say, going back out into the hallway and the original reason I came upstairs.

When I come out of the bathroom, Roddy is waiting for me on the landing. He puts his hand behind my back, and we descend the stairs together. His touch reminds me of the kiss we just shared, and I’m wishing we weren’t at his parents’ house anymore. At the bottom of the stairs, he whispers in my ear, “How much do you wish we weren’t here right now?” I simply nod, and he kisses my cheek.

Upon entering the kitchen, I see Sabine pulling two pie pans out of the oven, placing them on the stove next to the large pot that was there earlier. The aroma emanating from everything smells heavenly, and I am suddenly famished.

“The quiches are ready, everyone. Please take your seats in the dining room,” she announces.

“Quiche Lorraine is mother’s specialty,” Roddy says.

“If it tastes as good as it smells, then I’m excited to try it.”

On the way to the dining room, Roddy goes over to give his mother a kiss on the cheek while she arranges the quiches on a platter. She asks Roddy to carry the large pot for her and shoos the rest of us into the dining room again. Once he’s set down the ratatouille, Roddy hugs his father, sister and brother-in-law in turn. Then, he pulls out a chair and gestures for me to sit there. Once I’m settled, he seats himself to my right. Dilip and Camille sit across from us, and George sits at the head of the table between his children.

Shortly after, Sabine comes to the table bearing a platter with the two quiches, and she places it on the table. I notice there is already a basket with bread and a bowl of leafy green salad on the table as well. In the center of the table sits a tall vase with long-stemmed roses in various shades of red and pink, and elegant crystal candlesticks hold tall taper candles. Each place setting includes both an entrée and salad plate with a folded red napkin on top, a bread plate, soup bowl, water and wine glasses, and all the appropriate cutlery. I don’t think I’ve ever been to dinner with such a beautiful table.

“Mon chéri, would you do the honors,” Sabine says to George.

George stands up and picks up a long lighter from the end of the table. “This evening, we celebrate the gathering together of family and friends.” He lights the candle closest to him. Walking around the table, he comes to stand next to Sabine. “We are grateful for all our many blessings and celebrate those who have gone before us.” He lights the second candle. “And we celebrate our hope for the future: that all may be healthy and wealthy in whatever life they may choose.” George kisses his wife sweetly, then returns to his seat.

Tears well up in my eyes, but I blink them back. Tonight is a night to get to know Roddy’s family, not to dwell on my loss. I place my napkin on my lap as I see everyone else do the same.

Roddy picks up the bread basket and offers it to me. “Thank you,” I say, taking a dinner roll and placing it on my bread plate. I pass the basket in turn to Sabine.

“So, Clare,” Dilip begins, “Roddy tells us you are a travel agent.”

I look up from buttering my roll. “Yes. I work with my friend, Nate.” I explain to them the concept of Nerds on a Plane.

“Oh, that sounds like so much fun,” Camille replies. “What’s the craziest one you’ve ever had to plan?”

“There was this one couple who wanted to go to Dublin with their instruments and fully recreate the movie Once . Have you seen that one?” Everyone nods except George, so I continue. “So, I scouted out all the outdoor locations, found out how to get them a busking permit, how best to get his guitar and her keyboard transported on the flights, and booked them. It was an ordeal, but they had a fantastic time. And they posted about it on socials and the stars of the movie—Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová—saw it and gave them a shoutout.”

Camille’s eyes go wide. “You’re kidding! I love that movie so much, but I don’t think I would ever have gone to those lengths.”

“Of course, you also don’t sing or play an instrument,” Dilip says. Seeing Camille’s crestfallen expression, he adds, “But you are multitalented in so many other ways, my love.”

“Good save,” Roddy murmurs.

“And can you just imagine what that must have cost? But each to their own,” George pipes in then goes back to eating his quiche.

“Where is your favorite place in the world you’ve travelled to, Clare?” Sabine asks as she walks around the table serving everyone ladles of ratatouille. “Knowing of course that France is the most wonderful country in the world.”

The others roll their eyes at Sabine’s joke, but I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “Well, I really liked the Grand Canyon when I went there with my family as a teenager. Niagara Falls and Toronto are lovely too. My friend, Abby, and I went there during college.”

“Oh? Have you not been outside of North America?” George asks.

I shake my head. “No. My family couldn’t really afford it or couldn’t get the time off work when I was growing up, and there either hasn’t been money, time or someone to go with since then.” I sigh and fidget with my hands in my lap. “I know it’s crazy. A travel agent who hasn’t travelled. But I do want to travel when I can…”

Roddy puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close.

“I’m sure Roddy would love to take you travelling, wouldn’t you?” Camille says, winking.

Roddy shoots her a look that must be some sort of sibling thing, then says to me, “Of course I would.”

“Gotta finish this pesky treatment first,” I say too brightly. Everyone silently goes back to the delicious meal. Great, now I’ve put a damper on the whole meal. Way to go, Clare!

“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a full table at dinner,” Sabine jumps in, changing the subject. “It’s so nice to have a sixth person to round out the party.”

Not sure where she’s going with this, I just nod and take a bite of my salad.

“Roddy hasn’t brought a girlfriend home in more than five years. Since Jillian, I believe,” she says, looking pointedly at Roddy.

Five years? My mind is reeling at the thought that his last long-term relationship ended five years ago, but as I turn to Roddy, all I can think to say is, “Jillian?”

Roddy closes his eyes firmly for a second, then opens them again. “Jillian was just an old girlfriend. Mother was quite fond of her.”

“I think she was a little more than that, brother,” Camille says quietly, spearing a tomato slice in her salad.

“Yes,” Sabine replies. “They were affianced for over a year—”

“Mother,” Roddy says with a warning tone. “I asked you not to bring her up…ever again. And we were never engaged.”

Sabine looks taken aback but recovers quickly. “Sorry, mon chou, I was just mentioning because it’s so lovely to have someone here that you obviously care about because we would love to see you happy.”

I must look shell-shocked because Roddy takes my hand under the table and says quietly, “I’m sorry, Clare. I was waiting for the right moment to tell you about Jill.”

I shake my head a little to clear it. “It’s okay. We can talk about this later.”

“Je suis désolée, Clare. I’m so sorry—” Sabine’s words are drowned out by whooshing of blood in my ears. The burning starts behind my eyes, and I know I won’t be able to stop the tears from falling this time.

“Excuse me,” I say as I practically run to the front door.

“Clare!” Roddy calls as he chases after me.

Throwing open the front door, I inhale deeply and feel the warm summer air dry my tear-stained face. Roddy is beside me in an instant and his strong hands turn me to face him. He closes the front door, so we have some privacy.

“I’m so sorry you had to find out this way,” he begins.

“Listen, it’s okay, really—” I start to explain that I’m not upset about him having a previous relationship—even though I’m not sure how I’ll explain that I’m really upset about the fact it was five years ago—but Roddy continues on.

“And let me start by reiterating that Jill and I were never engaged,” he says firmly. “She and I met in college, but we didn’t start dating until we reconnected after she moved back here from Texas. We did move in together, briefly, until I found out she was cheating on me with some other guy she knew from her time in Dallas.” He sighs heavily. “When I found out, I left and as far as I know, she moved back to Texas to be with him. It was five years ago.”

Five years ago. So many things happened five years ago: my parents died, the dreams started, this man’s heart was broken by this woman. There has to be something to all these coincidences. Something to explain why everything is drawing me to this man standing in front of me. I’m not mad at him because this happened so long ago and it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Plus, with the chaotic way our relationship has gone, there hasn’t been time to go through every single detail of our previous lives. But I’m not ready to tell him about the dreams and everything that’s been pushing me toward him. So, I’ll play along.

“Clare?” Roddy says. He looks as if he might cry at any moment. “Please say something, anything.”

“It’s okay,” I reply, and his face brightens if only a little. “Our relationship has been anything but ‘normal.’”

He nods. “But I should have told you before my mother did.”

I laugh. “Yes, that is definitely true.” I pause before I ask the question I don’t know if I want the answer to. “Do you miss her?”

“Not at all,” he responds with no hesitation. “I didn’t know how great life could be until I met you.”

He wraps his arms around me, and we kiss on his parents’ porch, until we finally go back inside to rejoin his family.