A Wedding in Provence (25 page)

Olivia watched her go, thinking about Grace, long gone. I have no reason to be jealous of you, she thought. You kept him happy for a long time. Now it’s my turn.

She turned back to the dance floor to see Brody swing Carly under his arm. Carly was so surprised that she let out a quick laugh.

Olivia laughed, too, standing alone, watching her family.

“Let them eat cake!” Emily shouted from the kitchen door.

Everyone turned around and watched Paolo emerge, carrying a large cake on a white platter.

Olivia grabbed Brody’s hand and walked toward the arbor. The dinner table had been cleared and Paolo set the cake in the center. White and red buttercream roses, the same shade as Olivia’s dress, covered the top of the cake.

“It’s gorgeous!” Olivia said.

Paolo beamed.
“Grazie,”
he said, glancing shyly in Carly’s direction.

The guests gathered around while Olivia and Brody cut the first slice of cake. Then Paolo took over, cutting and offering slices to everyone.

“More champagne!” Sébastien shouted, popping the cork from another bottle. He refilled everyone’s glasses.

Nell walked over to Olivia, plate in one hand, champagne glass in the other.

“It’s my turn for a toast!” she called out to the guests.

Olivia felt a burst of pleasure—she hadn’t thought that Nell would make a toast. Normally, it would have been Carly who would step up and speak. Good for Nell, Olivia thought. It’s her turn.

“I’m amazed,” Nell said, her voice loud and strong. “It’s no surprise that my mother would wrangle the cutest damn cowboy in America and make him her own. It’s no surprise
that Emily and Sébastien would throw open their doors and let us celebrate in this lovely spot. No—I’m amazed by love. I’m amazed by the force of it, the enormous power of it. Can’t you feel it? It’s as if Olivia and Brody’s love wraps around all of us. We’re bathing in it. It’s the light of the moon. I feel stronger and happier because of their love. And it makes me yearn for some of that magic myself.”

Nell turned to Olivia.

“Thanks for teaching me so much throughout the years. And this lesson, the way it feels to love someone, might be the most important of all.”

Olivia felt tears running down her cheeks. She stepped forward and hugged Nell.

“To love!” Nell shouted when Olivia released her. She lifted her champagne glass in the air.

“To love!” all the guests shouted in return.

Carly, her eyes wet, looked at her mother and mouthed the words. “To love.”

Later, Olivia sat at the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in the water. Her daughters were dancing again, and this time Paolo joined them. Brody and Jake sat across from each other at the dining-room table, drinking beer. Sébastien and Emily had disappeared into their room, hand in hand. Olivia was thinking about dragging Brody away. She wanted to take him to bed. Soon.

She watched as Nell walked away from the patio, leaving Carly and Paolo dancing together. Nell headed toward the pool, a broad smile on her face.

“Can I sit with you?”

“I’d love that,” Olivia said.

Nell took a seat next to her and dipped her feet in the water. “Oh, that feels so good on my poor dancing feet,” she said with a sigh.

“Look at them,” Olivia said, gesturing to Carly and Paolo.

“Sweet, huh,” Nell said.

“That’s the kind of guy Carly needs. Not a brainiac. A man with a heart.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Nell said. “That’s why I sneaked away.”

Carly and Paolo danced around each other. Paolo was beaming, so clearly smitten by his partner. Carly kept her eyes on him and moved with a new grace. She seemed to be following his rhythm, their bodies so in sync that it looked as if they were connected by invisible threads.

When the song ended, Carly glanced at Olivia and Nell, then said something to Paolo. He stepped close to her and kissed her cheek. She lowered her head, the first sign of shyness that Olivia had ever seen in her daughter. And then Carly walked over to where they were sitting at the far end of the pool.

“Can I join you guys?” she asked, and they both nodded.

She sat on the other side of Olivia and dropped her legs into the pool.

“Cute guy,” Nell said.

“Cute guy,” Carly murmured.

The three of them sat there quietly for a while, their feet dangling in the cool water. Paolo cleared the dessert dishes.
Jake and Brody clinked beer bottles and roared with laughter. The lights swung in the breeze, their reflection glittering in the swimming pool.

“There’s a story I want to tell you,” Carly said quietly.

Both Olivia and Nell turned toward her. They waited. Carly watched her own feet drifting slowly back and forth in the water.

“When we were in high school,” Carly said, glancing at Olivia, then looking away just as quickly. “Remember the time that Nell got arrested?”

“Of course,” Olivia said. She wanted to stop her daughter: Why bring that up now? Why ruin a good moment? We’re here, aren’t we? We made it through that disaster a long time ago.

But Carly went on. “Something else happened that night. Something different from the story you know.”

“Carly,” Nell said. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Olivia asked.

“Let me talk,” Carly insisted.

Both Olivia and Nell fell silent. They angled their bodies so they could watch Carly, but she kept her eyes on her feet, as if she were telling her story from somewhere far away.

“There was a party at Christine’s before the dance. Someone gave me a bottle of pills and I took one of them—I don’t know why I did it. I was tired of being the good girl all the time. I didn’t even know what kind of pill it was. Everyone else was taking it. Now I’m guessing it was Ecstasy but who knows—could have been anything.”

She stopped talking for a moment and Olivia thought about
that night. She remembered Carly going right to her room after she picked her up. She was sick, Olivia had thought. But high? Olivia had never even considered the possibility. If it had been Nell she would have suspected as much right away. But not Carly.

“When I got to the dance the drug must have kicked in because suddenly I was very high. Someone gave me a flask and I drank whatever was in there. I thought it would bring me down a little—I didn’t know anything about how drugs and alcohol worked.”

“You still don’t know anything,” Nell said.

Carly nodded. “Pretty soon I was wasted. I don’t remember much except for dancing with some guys I didn’t even know. And then my superhero sister showed up.”

“And I took you home and put you to bed,” Nell said. “End of story.”

“Not the end of the story,” Carly said. She glanced at her mother. “I want you to hear the end of the story.”

“I’m listening,” Olivia said. She was beginning to feel the truth sneak up on her. Her memories of that night were unlocking, new images tumbling into place.

“Nell dragged me out of there and drove me home,” Carly said. “The cops pulled us over. I don’t even know why.”

“They said I rolled a stop sign,” Nell said. “They were just looking for high school kids to hassle.”

“Nell was wearing my jean jacket. The cops found the pills,” Carly said. She splashed the water with her feet and then held them still. “Nell said they were hers.”

Olivia let silence fall between them for a moment. She
imagined the night, remembered the phone call and conjured up the anger that she so often felt toward Nell. She could almost taste something bitter in her mouth.

“Why, Nell?” she asked.

Nell shrugged. “Carly had too much to lose. It was right before she started the Google internship. She was up for that debate scholarship. I wasn’t going to let her miss out on all that.”

“My God,” Olivia said. “You took the fall for her.”

“It wasn’t such a big deal,” Nell said. Now she, too, was looking at her feet, flexing and pointing them on the surface of the water.

“It was a big deal,” Olivia said. “You got kicked out of school. UC Santa Cruz rescinded their acceptance at first.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“Nell,” Olivia said. “Look at me.”

“Why do I feel like I’m in trouble again?” Nell said. She turned up one side of her mouth as if she were making a joke.

“You’re most definitely not in trouble,” Olivia said. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Again, Nell shrugged.

“And I always pretended I couldn’t remember what happened,” Carly said. “We never talked about it.”

“Why?” Olivia asked.

“Because I didn’t know what to do with it. I owed her too much. I felt like a lousy sister. I felt like a fraud.”

“You did what you had to do,” Nell said. “You succeeded. You thrived. You got to have your brilliant career that you were meant to have.”

“And you?” Olivia asked.

“I’ll get there,” Nell said. “I’m just on a slower track. It didn’t change my life irrevocably.”

“You didn’t go to college,” Olivia said. “You were all set to go.”

“Maybe I wasn’t ready,” Nell said.

“Attention all women!” Jake called from the table under the arbor.

The three of them lifted their heads at once and looked at Jake and Brody across the lawn.

“Charge!” Jake shouted. The two men stood up and raced each other, drunkenly, to the pool. They both cannonballed in, hitting the water at the same time.

The water splashed Olivia and her daughters, who leaned back, laughing. The guys whooped and whistled.

“Boys,” Olivia muttered.

“Come on in!” Jake shouted.

“I’m so glad I had girls,” Olivia said, putting her arms around her daughters.

“I’m not done,” Carly said quietly.

Olivia dropped her arms. She looked at Brody and Jake, bobbing in the center of the pool.

“Let us finish this conversation,” she told them.

Both men peeled off their wet shirts and threw them to the side of the pool.

“Go ahead,” Olivia said. “I’m listening.”

“Thank you, Nell,” Carly said. “I should have done this a very long time ago.”

“You don’t need to—” Nell started.

“I do. Listen. Thank you for saving my ass back when I was sixteen. I owe you—”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“She can’t listen,” Carly complained to Olivia.

“Shut up and listen to your sister,” Olivia said, smiling.

“I owe you so much,” Carly said. Her voice broke. “I wasn’t big enough to tell you what it meant to me.”

She stopped, and they were all quiet for a moment.

“I hear you,” Nell said, nodding.

Olivia caught a glimpse of the moon, a shining crescent in the night sky. It looked like a lopsided smile, grinning at her. Lucky me, she thought, smiling right back.

Ulysse barked from across the pool and Brody tossed him a soggy tennis ball, far across the meadow. The dog happily bounded after it.

Nell dropped into the pool. Her dress floated up around her. She walked past Olivia and stopped in front of Carly. Then she reached out her hand and Carly, too, slipped into the pool and into her sister’s arms.

Olivia opened her eyes and saw the first sign of dawn. Rose-colored light filled the room. They hadn’t gone to bed until after two—she needed more sleep. But she needed Brody first.

She ran her hand along the length of his side, his hip, his thigh.

He murmured and turned toward her. “Is it morning?”

“Not yet,” she said.

He put his arm on her back and moved his fingers in slow, lazy circles on her skin.

“We’re married,” he said.

“We’re married,” she agreed, smiling. She reached out and ran her hand along the side of his face.

“It was wonderful,” he said. Their faces were close to each other on the pillow; their voices were whispers.

“It was wonderful,” she told him.

“We didn’t consummate our marriage last night,” he murmured.

“Then we better get on it.”

“Promise me that we have nothing else to do today,” he said, his mouth close to hers.

“Everyone’s leaving today,” Olivia told him. “We have the whole day to ourselves.”

“I like that,” Brody said. “Come closer.”

“I can’t get any closer,” she said.

“I don’t believe that,” he said, rolling his body on top of hers.

She loved the weight of him, the smell of him. “Is this what marriage is?” she asked. “This? The two of us right now?”

“Yes,” he said. “And it’s every moment after this.”

“Well then,” she said, wrapping her legs around him. “Good morning, my husband,” she whispered, burying her face in his neck.

“Good morning, my wife,” he said.

[Fluffer Nutter]

F
irst I’d like to thank my daughters, Gillian and Sophie. They know they are not Nell and Carly, but they’re going to get asked a lot of questions about my characters and any possible resemblance to them. Thanks for understanding that writers make stuff up, including twentysomething daughters. Thanks for putting up with the questions. Here’s the one part of the fictional mother-daughter relationship that’s absolutely true: Love. Big love.

Maison 9, a small inn in Cassis, France, is not La Maison Verte. But I stayed there twice, and my imaginary inn grew from the beauty and charm of that wonderful place. Many thanks to Christel Soria-Goossens, inn manager, for all that you do to create the magic at Maison 9. And thanks to Yann
Chauveau, owner of the very real restaurant on the beach, Le Bada, for treating us so well while we were there.

Many thanks to Tom Brown, Jr., of Grouper, for answering my questions about dating websites and start-ups. Thanks to Peggy Forbes for sharing her wisdom about the theater world and what it takes to run a regional theater.

I have great writer friends who are also terrific readers. Thanks to Lalita Tademy, Elizabeth Stark, Rosemary Graham, Nina Schuyler, Vicky Mlyniec, and Boris Fishman, who all read early drafts of this novel and helped me find my way.

I’m a very lucky writer to have landed with the agent Sally Wofford-Girand many years ago. She’s smart and sharp and funny and wise and so very good at what she does. Thank you, Sally, again and again.