“He just said that he wanted some air and was going out for a drive. I offered to go with him, but he claimed he needed space. How’s it going?”
“Really well,” I reply with a smile. “I’ve left them inside, bonding.”
“That’s good.” He sounds despondent.
“Are you okay?” I ask tentatively. This has been a lot for him to take in too.
“Not really,” he replies gruffly. “I’ve never seen Albie so upset. He flew off the handle, told Mom he couldn’t bear to look at her. She’s packing her things right now.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Yeah, she’s taken it very literally. She wants to go back to America.”
“She’s flying home? Tonight?” I ask with alarm.
“More likely tomorrow, by the time she gets organized.”
“Does Albert know?”
“I don’t think so. I’m letting her do her thing right now. She might need to figure this one out on her own—it’s fucked up, what she’s done.”
He’s right. Nothing excuses her behavior; it doesn’t matter how insecure she used to be.
“I’m so sorry. This is all such a mess.”
“Like you said, now we’ve just got to put things right. I’m glad Albie found his way over there. I didn’t realize I was giving him directions when he asked where the house was.”
When I get back to the kitchen, I can hear Albert and Étienne outside, talking to each other in French. It makes my heart squeezeto hear them conversing in their native language, grandfather to grandson. It’s the way it should be.
I’m more determined than ever to improve my own language skills.
They switch to English when I walk outside and set the pot on the table.
“I’ve just been telling Étienne that I have photos of his mother at the factory,” Albert says as Étienne jumps up to pull out a chair for me. “We used to take big group shots of all the workers. She’ll be in some of them with Sébastien.”
“I’d love to see them too.”
“We should all go to the factory together!” Albert exclaims.
Étienne shoots me a startled look. The corners of my lips turn down.
“I’m rushing ahead, aren’t I?” Albert says apologetically, noticing our exchange.
“You’ll have lots of time to get to know each other,” I reply softly.
Albert is strong and healthy. Even after everything that’s been thrown at him, he’s still smiling, still enduring, still squaring up to life, just as Étienne is. I’m sure he’ll be around to make lots of happy memories.
“It’s my eightieth birthday soon,” Albert says suddenly. “Perhaps you’ll come to that?”
Étienne looks uncomfortable. “I think it’s best if I avoid your daughter for a while.”
“I actually just spoke to Jackson,” I confess, causing them both to look at me. “Sandrine is packing her bags. Apparently she’s going home.”
Albert reels backward. “She’s leaving?”
“Yes, although I’m not sure when.”
His shoulders droop. “It’s probably for the best.”
