“Isn’t it wonderful to see everyone enjoying themselves?” Mom asks me when we get to the area dedicated to children’s activities.
“It’s great,” I say.
We watch kids squeal with delight as they play, their cheeks rosy from the cold. At the ice rink, we cheer on amateur skaters trying to stay upright, while more experienced ones glide gracefully across the ice.
If I see someone snapping a picture, and there’s a chance I might be in it, I pull my bell hat lower over my forehead and try to step out of the frame. It’s something I’ve been doing for the past six years, despite Mom’s and Dad’s assurances that they were the only witnesses to my crime.
But what if they were mistaken? What if someone else saw me but not my victim, and didn’t connect the dots at the time? What if they do if they see me again? I’ll never find peace living in Vosier-en-Haut. If I could, I’d move across the country or abroad. But I can’t, because my disorder is incurable, and I need people I trust—Mom, Dad, and soon Philippe—to keep an eye on me.
Dad tugs on my sleeve. “Want to get your face painted?”
I follow his gaze. We’re now standing in front of a face-painting station, where children wait in line to have their faces transformed into animals, superheroes, or princesses.
“I’m too old for that, Dad,” I say.
“You’ll always be our little baby!” Mom pecks me on the cheek. “Always!”
I would’ve melted from this before, deeming it cute. Today, however, their affectionate words sound almost ominous. Not a threat, no. More like a vow. Notcute.
Seeing they can’t persuade me, my parents give up, and we head over to the live entertainment.
A local band performs upbeat folk songs. People dance and clap along, their breath visible in the chilly air. My parents join the dance, laughing as they twirl around together. Their love for each other is evident in their eyes, in their gestures, in the words they exchange. It’s very endearing.
I love them so much… and I’m so confused!
An hour later, we enter my parents’ favorite eatery, where they’d booked our usual table in the back. The place is already bustling with locals and tourists who’ve all come here in search of sustenance and comfort from the cold. Mom and Dad sit across from me. Their faces glow with the satisfaction of someone genuinely pleased with their day and their life. The Family Fun Day has been a remarkable success so far, thanks to their dedication. They have every right to be pleased.
Dad orders fondue, which is our Sunday lunch dish of choice this time of year.
When our food and drinks arrive, I pick up mycaquelon—the special fondue fork—and dip a small piece of bread into the steaming pot of fragrant cheese in front of me. Mom and Dad do the same. Taking thecaquelonto my mouth, I savor the warm, flavorful, gooey goodness of the cheese-soaked bread.
Ahh, so good!My life isn’t that bad, given the circumstances, is it?
Am I making a mistake sticking my nose into my parents’ private business? Am I kicking a hornet’s nest? Is helping Darrel, which led to doubting my parents, going to blow up in my face? Am I ruining my future? Will I regret the path I’ve embarked on?
I know I will.But there’s no turning back now.
STELLA
The chef and owner of the restaurant comes out to say hello to his customers.
“Monsieur le Maire, Mesdames!” he says as he reaches our table. “Is today’s fondue to your liking?”
Dad looks up at him. “It’s extraordinary, Matthieu! You’ve surpassed yourself.”
“Thank you,Monsieur le Maire!” Matthieu grins. “I finally got round to trying my wife’s grandmother’s recipe, and from the feedback I’m getting, I should’ve done so long ago.”
“What’s the secret ingredient?” Mom asks.
Matthieu shoots her areally, sweetheartlook.
She throws up her hands. “You can’t blame a girl for trying!”
The three of them laugh heartily before Matthieu moves on to the next table.
My head feels like it’s about to explode.
The mismatch between this happy normalcy and the stuff going on in our basement is jarring. It’s killing me. The disconnect between my discoveries of the past few weeks and my normal life where Dad is a well-liked mayor and Mom a respected dentist boggles the mind. I simply cannot see how both can be true.
