Her expression fell and a tear slid from her eye. “It wasn’t nearly long enough. My mother said we made it work because a marriage built on friendship starts with a strong foundation.” She shrugged. “Sometimes I think we just got lucky.”
I thought of Camilla and Jeff. I’d pushed her to take more girl trips and do as much as she could without him, but she only wanted to make memories if he was in them. Anyone who’d met them could see Jeff felt the same way. They were the closest of friends, and building a life together made a lot more sense when I looked at it from that point of view.
Camilla had gotten love right, despite the awful examples she’d grown up with.
“You would’ve loved Bastien,” Mary said, her brown eyes alight once more. “He was full of mischief, too, but in all the best ways.” She laughed, then dropped a palm to her stomach. “Oh, and he loved to bake. One more of his many talents.”
My gaze snapped to hers. “Bastien baked?”
She nodded. “Very well. And often. His mother taught him. Her father taught her. He probably baked for your mother. He couldn’t stop himself, I’m sure.”
Memories of my mother, working for hours in our kitchen, returned with a rush. She played the radio and sang, lost in her own world while she made the most magnificent creations.
Had she thought of him while she baked? When I stood on a chair beside her to reach the counter, was she sharing him with me?
“My mom taught me to bake,” I said.
Mary smiled. “That’s lovely. I’m sure she was an excellent mother.”
I bit my tongue as old rants and negativity came to mind. I knew my mother better now. I understood her struggles more clearly. “She did the best she could,” I said, and that was the truth of it.And I think she missed him dearly.
Mary nodded. “He would’ve loved knowing he had a daughter. We tried for children of our own, but that was never meant to be. We didn’t pursue things, medically,” she said. A blush crept over her fair skin. “We just enjoyed each other and cherished what we had. We believe that what is meant for us will find us.”
“That’s beautiful,” I said.
Part of me wanted to tell her I was sorry she’d never known the joy of carrying a baby to term, of the pain and elation of delivery and of every other stage of a child’s life. For me, those were the high points of my life, but Mary had other experiences, and I envied her those.
There was so much life to live. There wasn’t enough time to live it.
Lucas returned as the waitstaff brought our meals, and I realized he’d been watching. Just as promised, he’d never left me alone.
The three of us spent the evening getting to know one another over loaves of fresh bread and bowls of pot-au-feu, a delicious meat-and-potatoes stew. Mary was the embodiment of grace, and when the time came to leave, I was reluctant to say goodbye.
“Promise me you’ll stay in touch,” she said, passing a business card into my hand. “My home number and personal email are on there. I’m on social media too. I like to keep up with my friends and family.” She drew me to her for a long hug and air-kisses before turning to Lucas. “Bring her back to me soon.”
He nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
I grinned as we walked back through the door. I hadn’t found my birth father, but I’d found a woman eager to be my stepmother and friend.
I considered that a wonderful gift. One I would never take for granted.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lucas and I walked the streets near the restaurant before returning to our car. I needed a little extra time to process and unwind. I’d lost my father without ever knowing him, but I was deeply thankful for the woman I’d found in his stead. And for all the stories of his life she’d so willingly shared.
I tipped my head for a better look at the moon and stars, glittering across an inky night sky. Soft music drifted from cafés, and a contented sigh left my body as I floated through the most surreal moment of my life.
“What?” Lucas asked, nudging my arm as we strolled in the direction of our rental car. “We don’t have to go yet,” he offered. “We can walk all night if you like. It’s the perfect weather for it.”
At the car I stood outside the passenger door and peered at him across the roof of the little vehicle. Everything about the moment felt profound. My time with Mary underscored the lessons I’d learned during these last few months. People died every day, and too few lived while they had the chance. I didn’t want to spend any more of my limited days with people I didn’t like or doing things I didn’t love. “I don’t want to plate food.” The declaration came out before I’d had time to decide how to say it. The immediate relief pulled a smile across my lips.
His brows bunched. “What do you mean? You didn’t have fun today?”
“I had fun with you today,” I clarified. I didn’t want to hurt or disappoint Lucas, but I knew this was the right choice for me. I needed to be brave and honor that. “I think I’d be good at plating, if I finished the course, but—”
Lucas pursed his lips and rested his forearms on the roof. “You want to bake,” he said. “Of course you do. You’re a baker. You should bake.”
I laughed, in love with his words. I was a baker. And a pretty good one. “I’m truly sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to put you out. I really wanted this to work.” I couldn’t imagine what my change of mind cost him. I covered my mouth as the expenses piled in my head.Time and money.
