She tilted her head to one side, a serious expression on her beautiful face. “I’m proud of you then. It’s hard to change your path, your direction.”
The server came back for their order. Pepperoni and mushroom pizza with a Roma crust.
“Your turn now,” Sam said. “Tell me about France. Do you miss it?”
She paused before answering. “I think I miss what it was more than anything.” Chloe described pieces of her life in Paris. The restaurant where she worked, who trained her, how much she loved making delicious things.
Sam couldn’t help it. He stopped listening and just watched her. The more she talked about making beautiful things to eat, the more her sadness of being a recent widow vanished and she was the Chloe he remembered. Vivacious and glowing with passion.
Their food arrived and the conversation gave way to large bites of hot, cheesy pizza and low moans of, “This is so good,” and laughing as they pulled strings of melted cheese from their chins.
“Is it hard to talk about your husband?” He didn’t exactly know the etiquette of what was okay to ask or talk about. How had she gotten through it? Being widowed and left alone so young.
She gave a wistful smile. “Not anymore.”
“How did he die? I mean, I heard it was an accident, but?—”
“A tree.”
Sam froze mid bite. “A tree?”
Chloe dabbed her lips with her paper napkin, then set it beside her plate. “His family owns a large sporting goods company and Jean-Marc tested new equipment and designs. He was trying out a new ski design in Switzerland when he lost control and hit a tree square on. He lived a few minutes, but the crash was too severe.”
“I’m so sorry, Chloe. I can’t imagine.”
“I dreamed about it afterwards for months. How he lost control, crashed into that tree. What he must have felt. Did he know he was dying? As his life ended, did he say anything to me? His parents were with him so if he did, they’ve not told me.”
“Did you want him to say something to you?”
Chloe looked away and peered out the window. She watched the headlights as they streamed past the restaurant—illuminating the trees, the parked cars, the outside tables, and umbrellas—while she considered her answer.
“Yes.” Her reply was simple and low, gravely with emotion. “We’d argued before he left. It was unresolved. Then I was so angry at him for dying, for leaving me. He didn’t have to be the one testing the skis, but he insisted. He was supposed to be with me in Paris. I wanted to hear he was sorry.”
“Sounds like he lived life to the fullest,” Sam said, curious, though not jealous. Because who would be jealous of a dead man? “But I’m sorry about the circumstances before his death.”
“Thank you. Believe it or not, it’s a bit of a relief to talk about it, to talk about him.” She drew a deep breath and smiled. “Jean-Marc was vibrant and full of life. A daredevil. The fun of doing something new was an addiction. He loved a challenge, loved the adrenaline rush. He loved being ‘the first.’ Hence the test run.” She took an awkward bite of her pizza. “Which is why he loved you. Thought you were a daring quarterback. He was watching that day when you got sacked and had to miss the last few minutes of the game. I was trying to sleep and he’s yelling at you to scramble or something. Then you didn’t get up and missed the final drive and the team lost. He was worried you were concussed.”
“So was I. That loss stung.” Sam took another bite of pizza. “I’m sorry I never met him.”
Her eyes glistened when she looked across the table and gave him her answer. “Me too.”
“So, was Chloe—the former emo girl—a daredevil, going on adventures with her husband?”
“No,” she said with a soft laugh. “The only chances I took were in my recipes. I hate heights, which I think was a bit of a disappointment to him. I would stand at the base of the mountain and watch.” She sipped her wine and it seemed to him the conversation about Jean-Marc was over.
“Are you ready for Frank’s big party tomorrow night?” Sam said.
“Cakes are frosted and partly decorated. I’m looking forward to it.”
He restrained from any sort of negative response and rather welcomed it when the conversation fell into a civil and like-minded political discussion.
They polished off the pizza in style and ordered tiramisu for dessert—without hesitation.
A couple of fans shyly approached, and Sam signed his autograph for them, paid the check, then suggested a stroll through Gardenia Park.
When she looked up at him in agreement, his heart melted a little, despite the late winter chill in the air. What are you doing to me, Chloe LaRue?
Huge honor meeting @SamHardyQB15 at Angelo’s in Hearts Bend. #GoTitans #TitanUp
