“Good,” Uncle Dom says. “Never liked him.”
Aunt Violette nods.
I’m relieved they aren’t going to grill me on the subject, but the justice warrior in me cannot let an unfair accusation remain unchallenged, even when I benefit from it and I’m holding a grudge against the accused.
“To be fair,” I say, “Jerome never kept me from visiting you. Skipping Easter is on me.”
“It’s decided then,” Aunt Violette says in a bizarre leap of reasoning. “You’ll sleep over. You can take Annie’s old room, and Max will sleep in Claire’s. In the morning when you’re fresh and sober, you can go through Gran’s stuff.”
“Is it rude to refuse?” Max whispers to me.
I let out a sigh. “Just go with it. Resisting her will is futile.”
“Indeed, it is,” Uncle Dom certifies before refilling our glasses.
11
LUCIE
It’s almost midnight when I settle into my cousin’s old room and change into one of her skimpy little nighties that Aunt Violette considerately laid out on the bed. The bathroom is at the end of a lit corridor, halfway between Max’s room and mine. A white towel and a new red toothbrush will be waiting there for me, I am told. The lemon-colored towel and the green toothbrush are for Max.
My tata and tonton have thought of everything.
Should I go to the bathroom first or play the host and let Max use it first? We should’ve coordinated before we wished each other good night and headed to our designated rooms!
Opting for the latter, I stretch out on the bed and check my email. There’s one from Jerome’s office manager, Natasha. She lets me know that she received the dreaded “we’re sorry to let you go” letter, and she doesn’t have the energy to fight back. It makes her sad that taking her defense cost me my job and broke up my relationship. She writes that it was a very selfless thing to do, and she’ll never forgetit.
While her note does stroke my ego, it also revives the anger I’d felt when Jerome told me he was giving her the boot.
How dare he!
Natasha had been with Perez Parties, Father & Son from the start, same as me. She’s competent and affable, a top-notch office manager, always happy to help. Monsieur Perez—Jerome’s dad—trusted her blindly. But Jerome suspected her of some wrongdoing bad enough to fire her. He wouldn’t tell me what, since he had no proof. And that was what sent me into a rage there was no coming back from. I’m not proud of some of the epithets I lobbed at him. But I don’t regret taking a stand.
I reply to Natasha’s email urging her to challenge Jerome’s decision, or at the very least, to seek legal advice. Setting my phone on the nightstand, I spring to my feet and head to the bathroom. Outside, the thunder booms hard enough to rattle the glass in the hallway’s window. A streak of lightning paints everything a garish white followed by another deafening crash of thunder.
The house goes dark.
“Merde! Not again!” Uncle Dom swears in a room on the first floor.
A door creaks open. I hear him trudging downstairs, muttering profanities.
Suddenly cold, I rub my arms to work some heat back into them. It was a poor choice to wander out here without that fluffy pink robe that Aunt Violette left for me in the closet. I take another step toward the bathroom and bump into a hard chest.
“Lucie?” a familiar male voice exclaims.
“Max?”
His face is barely visible in the dark. I step backward reflexively as my mind catches up on the details.Is he naked? Or is he just bare chested? That said, given how much skin my nightie reveals, one could argue that I am, too. At least, I can take solace in the fact that he doesn’t seem to have adjusted to the darkness yet.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters.
“No, it’s me, I didn’t hear you?—”
“Here, let me just?—”
We both move at the same time, trying to get out of one another’s way, and colliding again in a press of flesh. Despite myself, I revel in the intoxicating combination of mint, perfume, and musk that comes off his warm skin. I am practically enfolded in his embrace, encased in his gorgeous arms that nearly touch me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers again.
