“What kind of messy?”
The chip was out of her voice again. Usually, she was the one telling him mess—some feud in town, drama in the comments of a local animal rescue organization she followed online, a tiff in her book club over whether a main character in the monthly pick was “waiting around for some man to save her!”
Griffin getting anywhere near gossip was about as shocking as the sightseeing.
“Emily invited her brother’s ex-wife,” he said. “It’s—you know. Awkward.”
“Weird thing to do,” his mother said. “Inviting her, I mean.”
A funny thought came into his head: Annie Testa on that boat last night, sitting next to Emily’s aunt Céline. Two women withabsolutely nothing in common except their not-so-subtle judgment about asking your brother’s ex-wife to come to your wedding.
It was that little pretend scenario that somehow got him saying more: not just that the ex-wife was here, but that a new girlfriend was, too. That everyone was acting nice about it—amicableabout it—but that the whole thing had somehow given Emily the yips. That the ex-wife—he didn’t dare say her name, for fear of what his mother would be able to hear in it—was trying to help, but maybe also making things worse.
That Griffin had to try heading it all off.
When he was done, the sky had changed again, rosy gold now, and somewhere along the line, a few stragglers—other early-rising Americans, he guessed—had shown up to get photos in front of the grand lady, newly clad for her morning of being a whole bunch of people’s bucket list attraction. He adjusted his hat, tugged the brim down. Imagined himself crawling out of the bell tower, crouching on one of the finials. Later, people would zoom in on their photos. They’d think,Is that one of those gargoyles? Some weird bird? A ghost, a monster?
“You’re not responsible for Michael,” his mother said now, interrupting his thoughts.
The chip was back in her voice.
Something else he wouldn’t argue with her about.
Something else they’d never agree on.
“It’s something to keep an eye on,” he said.
So you’ll look at me, then, he heard himself saying again. Saw Layla Bailey’s big brown eyes blinking back at him, stained glass sparkling above her as that huge, overwhelming store started shutting down around them.Supporting them, he said later, when they’d gotten closer to the hotel, when they both seemed calmer from the fresh air, the walking.That’s awething now. We sticktogether. No one looks at you as if you’re alone. No one looks at you as if you’re only looking at him.
For a long time, she hadn’t responded. She’d kept her head down, one foot in front of the other, studying her new sneakers.
But when he finally heard her quietly say, “Okay,” he realized he’d been holding his breath. He realized how badly he’d been wanting her to agree.
And that scared him half to death.
Scared him out of an unexpected sleep, a soft dream he couldn’t talk about.
Scared him back into a burned-out bell tower.
His mother made ahmming noise on the other end of the line. She wouldn’t argue, either, especially not when he was this far away. It was too unusual, for them to fight with this much literal distance between them.
“So what’s today, then?” she asked instead.
He swallowed, took one last look. Thought about today, and everything about it that would be hard. A train ride, a lot of people, long lines, camera phones everywhere. A six out of ten. A bunch of shit he would probably find pretty disgusting to look at for any length of time.
And Layla Bailey, looking at him, exactly like he’d asked her to.
But since he wasn’t going to say all that, he simply turned his back on his pretend house, started walking, and said, “Today, we go to Versailles.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Michael, you have to see this part,” Emily said, her voice breathless with excitement.
Layla watched, restless but grudgingly pleased, as Emily linked her arm through Michael’s and tugged gently, leading him along the thin, delicately draped rope that separated their small, spread-out party from the garish display arrayed before them.
Marie Antoinette’s bedroom.
God, there was so muchgoldeverywhere.
