A family with six laughing children ran across the square and lined up at a steaming copper vat, wafting the scent of cinnamon and sugar across the market. The dad paid and the mom bestowed a candied apple to each child, from the smallest to the tallest.
“I guess I never realized how un-nurturing my mother was.”
“That’s a lot of sadness to mourn.”
“Which will take time. Okay, I got it. How are you and Stephen? Are your patients keeping you overly busy? And is Stephen knee-deep in sawdust?
“I’m very busy, but I’m glad I can help my patients. I love my work. You know, many people have sad memories about the holidays, like you.”
“Really?”
“Really. Patients come in with flu-like symptoms and then talk about all the stress of the holidays.”
“Wow, that’s not good.”
“No. But talking seems to help them. And Stephen’s deep in the Christmas spirit because he’s been working on so many wooden toys. Can you believe someone requested he carve a banana slug? He’s an unofficial Santa’s elf. Have you spoken to Gilbert again?”
“I’m on my way back to the hotel. I’ll call him from there.”
“Keep allowing those memories, Claire. I’m sure it will be difficult at times, but you’re very close to uncovering deep things that have frightened you. I’ve got to go. Call me later.”
“Thanks, I will.” Claire stuffed her cell in her pocket and pulled on her gloves. She wished she’d kept that adorable poodle. Maybe when she returned, she’d visit the convent and see if any of the Sisters were still there. She would thank them for mothering her.
She plucked up the box of Sister Georgette’s cookies. Her mother could have given her up for adoption, but instead, she took her to the convent. Claire wished she had thanked her mother. It was the only good thing she had ever done for her.
Chapter 17
ThreemessagesfromGilbertawaited Claire when she arrived at her hotel room. She put her packages in the closet, washed her face, and retrieved the wine and cheese from the minifridge. The housekeeper had carefully wrapped the cheese and corked the wine, and Claire opened both.
At least Gilbert wanted to talk to her. What did she want to happen? She poured the wine, filling the glass. She wanted to know why David hadn’t told her about Luca, but she didn’t think Gilbert would know the answer to that question. Perhaps he could tell her more about how David behaved with Luca and that would give her some clues. But she knew David had been loving and kind and gentle and fun. And those actions wouldn’t give her an explanation.
She ate a piece of cheese and opened the drapes. A family played together in the courtyard, two small children and a mom making angels in the snow. Part of Claire longed to have shared a loving family with David, yet another darker part of her was terrified, but of what, she wasn’t certain. She didn’t want to be anything like her mother, but there was something else that frightened her. She knew the fear emanated from her mother, but why would her mother’s coldness cause Claire to be frightened of having children herself? Claire didn’t know how to be a mother, but David would have helped her figure it out.
She sipped the wine, noticing the faint fragrance of an unfamiliar fruit—it wasn’t citrus, a little bit plummy—lychee, that was it. She raised her glass to the photo of David that she’d placed on the bedside table.
Her appreciation of him turned to sadness. She wanted to meet Luca but was afraid his resemblance to David would bring tears. And she didn’t want to cry in front of the boy.
If Gilbert didn’t want her to meet Luca, how would she feel? She massaged her neck as she paced. Left out. Alienated. Even if Luca wasn’t her child, he was David’s, and she wanted to meet him, even if she cried her eyes out. She’d just have to keep it together and wait to have a melt down until after her visit. She closed the drapes.
After another fortifying sip of wine, she dialed his number.
“Allô?” Gilbert’s voice was urgent.
“It’s Claire. I’m sorry—”
“I was so worried. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I was in such a state of shock, I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry I worried you.”
“It’s okay. You are feeling better now?” A dog barked in the background and Gilbert shushed him.
After finding the photo, she’d thought she’d never be the same again, and after learning David knew about Luca, she was devastated, confused, exhausted; but she didn’t want to further worry Gilbert. “Yes. Were you able to read the information I gave you?”
“Yes! From the bottom of my heart, I thank you. We have an appointment tomorrow morning for Luca to be tested.”
The splinter of worry she’d carried in her heart dissolved. “I am so glad.”
“Claire…” A song played in Gilbert’s background, and she recognized the words,Petit Papa Noël. He cleared his throat. “I don’t think we should tell Luca about David’s…passing now.”
