“He doesn’t speak English.”
The dog bounded to her. She waved the envelope. “Fetch.” She flung the envelope like a frisbee, and the dog ran for it.
“Apparently, he can translate. Please take Luca to be tested. If he inherited David’s heart condition, he could die of a heart attack at a very young age, like David did.” Tears stung, but she would not cry. Poor Luca having to live with such a jerk.
Gilbert ran after the dog and after a bit of tugging, prized the envelope and opened it.
She didn’t even know Gilbert, and she hated him. Yet, he had adopted her husband’s son. There must be some good in him. She’d failed again. She needed another strategy. She wasn’t leaving France without ensuring that Luca was tested.
“I’m sorry I don’t speak French, but did you hear what I said?”
He paged through the documents.
“Can you fathom that Luca’s life is in danger? Children that are only five years old can die of this condition. You need to have Luca tested!” she shouted. She walked toward him, tripped over a rock, frozen in an ice-covered puddle, and stumbled. “Merde.” At least she knew how to swear in French. She regained her balance.
“Arrêtez!” His footsteps scuffled. “Wait!”
She glared at the jerk.
“David…died?” He gripped the envelope. His angry eyes reddened. What she thought might be anguish washed over his face.
She exhaled, searching for calm. “My husband passed away, from a heart attack—a little over a year ago. I only recently discovered the photo of Luca.”
His eyes dulled. “I’m deeply sorry.”
“Thank you.” Tears swelled.
The lines around his eyes softened. “He would have liked to see Luca grow up.”
“You knew my husband?” She swallowed against a creeping tightness in her throat.
“Quite well. Sophie got sick, I’d been begging her to see a doctor, and when she did, her doctor gave her three months to live. David usually visited in October, and Sophie wanted to tell him in person. But things spun out of control, and she died, and then I realized I hadn’t seen David since before she was diagnosed.” His arms fell to his sides. “By the time I tried to contact David his phone number was not in service, and I never received a reply to my emails. When I called the corporate office, I was told he was no longer with the company. And I don’t have his personal email or home address.”
“David died of a heart condition Luca could have inherited. There are no symptoms. You must have Luca tested.” She dizzied and bent over.
He grabbed her hand. “Luca will be arriving soon, and we must talk another time. I don’t want him to know of this now. I will help you to your taxi. You could slip.” Holding her arm, he walked her down the hill.
Sparks flurried in her vision like snowflakes. She couldn’t fight him, couldn’t make demands, she could barely walk. Her heart thrashed against her ribs.
He opened the taxi door. “I’m sorry I cannot explain further right now, but I will meet you at your hotel tomorrow morning. L’hôtel la Rivière?”
“Yes, that’s my hotel.” She allowed him to hold her arm as she got in. “Tomorrow?” Her voice sounded like a plea, and she hated it.
“At nine.” He slammed the door and headed back up the hill.
As the driver pulled onto the road, a school bus chugged past them, came to a stop, and opened its doors. Claire opened the window and watched her husband’s son run up the hill after his uncle.
Chapter 11
Afterarestlessnight,Claire drank a pot of coffee to sharpen her mind. Holding onto the banister to calm her jitters, she descended the steps to the hotel reception area. Sophie’s brother scrunched his knitted cap as he waited. His bright blue-gray eyes alighting on hers, he dashed toward her.
“Forgive me. I’ve not properly introduced myself.” He extended his hand. “I am Gilbert Soltner.”
“Jeel…?” Claire tried to wrap her lips around his name. Madame Justine had said, ‘Gilbert.’ “We don’t have that name in English.”
He laughed. “Americans say ‘Gilbert.’ But in France we say, ‘Jeel-bear,’ with a soft ‘G.’”
“Ah. The French pronunciation is beautiful.” She shook his hand. “Jeel-bear.”
