Camille continued to wear that all-knowing smile, one that terrified Grayson.
“Do you know why she stopped playing music?”Camille asked.
Grayson shrugged.“Plenty of people stop doing the things they love.”
“What if she has a reason she isn’t telling you?”
Grayson’s stomach thrashed with anxiety.He hated that Camille could do this to him; it was exactly what her mother had once done.He wouldn’t say that aloud, though.Of course not.
“I think you should talk to her,” Camille said.
“I don’t think she wants to talk to me,” he said.“We were an item a very long time ago.We’re basically strangers.”
Camille clucked her tongue.“I saw the way she looked at you.You aren’t strangers.You weren’t even strangers before you met the first time.”
More cryptic language.Grayson closed his eyes against his confusion.“Come on, you poet,” he said to his daughter, trying to laugh.“Let’s go back inside.”
Camille and Grayson returned to the Copperfield House to find that Greta had set out a buffet of gorgeous French foods: coq au vin, boeuf bourguignon, and grilled ratatouille.Guests swarmed the tables, filling their plates.Camille kissed Grayson goodbye and hurried off with Laura and Scarlet, whispering what Grayson thought sounded like, “I could not get him to listen to me.I don’t know how we can bring them together.”His stomach twisted with everything his daughter couldn’t know.
But why did it seem like Camille knew more than he did?
As the night went on, Grayson did his best to keep up appearances.He drank wine, laughed with Will, and complimented Greta until she giggled and went red in the face.Grayson spoke to Bernard about his book (which Grayson promised to read) and answered people’s questions about Water Works.When it was fully dark outside, he went searching for Stevie, but he couldn’t find her.It was like she’d evaporated.
That was when he spotted Ella, talking to her daughter, Laura.
They were near the fireplace, their faces scrunched and red.Ella looked angry, but Laura looked confused, shrugging her shoulders and tugging at her hair.Grayson looked for a moment too long, recognizing a mother-daughter dispute that wasn’t unlike Genevieve and Camille’s.Laura caught him, picked up her hand, and beckoned for him to come over.
At first, Grayson was sure she was waving to someone else.He turned around, searching for who she really wanted.But there was no one beside him, no one answering her wave.When he looked back at Laura, she gave him a bug-eyed look and said, “Grayson!Come on!”At that, Ella wore a face of dread.Curiosity crashed into him.He could do nothing but go over there.
By the time he reached them, his daughter Camille had sidled up beside him, as though she couldn’t wait to dig into the action.
“Hello,” Grayson said nervously, eager to get out of the Copperfield House.He could be cozied up in his hotel within a half hour, he realized.He could work on forgetting how strange he currently felt.
“I’m really sorry about this, Grayson,” Ella said, her cheeks inflamed.
“Tell him, Laura!”Camille urged.“It’s like you said earlier.He deserves to know!”
Grayson felt caught up in a story that he didn’t understand.He looked from his daughter to Laura to Ella, his heart pounding.
“I don’t think it’s your right to tell him,” Ella said, crossing her arms.“I’ll remind you that you eavesdropped.You shouldn’t have heard what you heard.”
“She’s never going to tell him, Mom!”Laura cried.“She’s going to live out the rest of her days not talking to her daughter, breaking her own heart.All because of pride.”
“Papa and I were just talking about pride,” Camille said.“Weren’t we?”
Grayson’s head spun.Strangely, he imagined himself as a twenty-four-year-old man, recounting this story to Stevie, perhaps at the burger place.He envisioned himself saying, “Sometimes I get the feeling I don’t know what anyone is talking about.I feel insane.”
“She needs to be the one to tell him,” Ella said sternly to Laura.“It’s her story.It’s her prerogative.Your story with Vinny is different.Everyone’s story is different.”
Grayson’s head throbbed.It was suddenly clear he’d had too much mulled wine.When he stepped back, searching for a way out, he spotted Stevie on the staircase, her blond hair glowing in the firelight.She watched the four of them—Ella, Laura, Camille, and Grayson—like a hawk.Grayson had the feeling she was going to yell at them.
And then she said, in that gorgeous and raw and deep voice, “Grayson.I think we need to talk.”Grayson felt his stomach drop out.But he could do nothing but follow her out of the crowd, out of the house, and out to the beach.
There, beneath twinkling stars, Stevie told him a truth he’d never fathomed before.
She told him about a life he could have lived.
She told him about a person he could love, if he wanted to.
