“No, Lisette.She wants to play matchmaker foryou!” Noele peers over at me from under her arm, a devious smile on her heart-shaped face.
I sit up straight. It is all I can do not to laugh. “She is not serious?”
“She is. You have been back for three years now and you have not been on a single date.”
“That is not true! There was one. A man who came into the flower shop a few months ago. He asked me out for coffee.” I scrunch up my nose at the memory. “It did not go well.”
“You said nothing to me!” She feigns offense—or perhaps hurt—and punches my arm lightly. “What happened?”
My palms dampen. Rubbing them on my thighs, I stare out into the darkness beyond the patio doors. “He saw my scars and reacted…badly.” I do not tell her that he grabbed my hand, pulled my arm halfway across the table, and demanded to know what had happened to me.
“Then he was an idiot. But there are plenty of men out there who are not. You should try EuroMatch. That is how I found Marcel.” She pulls out her phone and taps the screen a few times. “See?”
“Mon Dieu, Noele. Why do you still have that app? Youlivewith Marcel now. I thought you loved him!”
“I do. But I could never figure out how to delete my profile and…sometimes I like to look. I nevercontactany of them.” She angles the phone and scrolls through photos of a dozen men, many smiling, all of them no older than thirty. “I could make you a profile. You can chat with anyone you like online before you meet in person.”
“No.” I shake my head, reach over, and turn off her phone. “I am not ready. I mayneverbe ready.”
Her sigh sends a prickle down my spine. “You have to forget about that man, Lisette. He is never coming back.”
My heart threatens to crack in two. She is right. All I will ever have of Nomar are memories. But after I swallow a sob, anger chases away the sadness. “I will neverforget, Noele. I cried over him when he left Boston, andyoutold me I had to focus on myself. That I could not love another man so soon after what I had been through.”
“Oui. I was right.” Her green eyes narrow at me. “You did not know who you were, Lisette. How could you after what Faruk did to you?”
“I survived for ten years. The only time I let myself feel anything was with Mateen. But Nomar changed that. With him, I found something I had lost. If he had stayed, perhaps we could have made it work. Perhaps not. But it was not your place to stop me from trying.”
I tug the blanket from her lap, stand, and fold it neatly.
“I am tired. I think…it would be best if you went home. Thank you for dinner. Next Saturday, I will make us pizza.”
She wants to argue with me. I can see it in her eyes. But though she knows more of the world, I am still her older sister. At the door, she kisses me on each cheek, then wraps her arms around me.
“I love you, Lisette. I only want the best for you and for Mateen.”
A weak smile is all I can manage as she hurries down the path to her car.
* * *
“Mateen!Hurry. Philippe’s mother will be here soon!”
I rifle through his backpack, worried I have forgotten something he will need over the next four days. His class is going to Barcelona—part of a Spanish immersion program hebeggedme to sign him up for—and I do not know how to let him go.
He thuds down the stairs, his curls sticking up in all directions. “Maman, did you pack my Nintendo?”
“Your teacher said no electronics.” At his pout, I ruffle his hair. “You will survive. I promise. Now come sit with me for a moment.”
He lets me tug him over to the sofa, where I wrap my arms around his slight shoulders.
“Maman…”
“Hush. I need a long hug to get me through this week.” Tears lend a shimmer to the room, and I blink them away before they can fall. “You know the rules,mon bébé, oui?”
“I amnota baby!” he whines.
“No, you are not. You are so big now. So grown up. But you will always bemon bébéto me.Rules, please.”
“No social media. Tell a teacher if anyone asks for my full name. Stay with my class and listen to Philippe’s parents.”
