Life Is A Foreign Language (14 page)

No denying it, she felt tired after her outing. She prepared a pitcher of ice-tea and drank a full glass before filling another one for Michael.

“Care for a drink?” she asked through the open lanai door.

He removed his shoes before entering and emptied the glass in a few gulps. “I’ve enjoyed the music of your wind chime. It’s very nice.”

“Isn’t it!” Nina beamed, pleased that he liked it. She pointed at the lanai. “Seems you’re almost finished?”

“Another half-hour or so and I’m done.” He took another sip. “The paint dries fast, so after the barbecue tomorrow, I should be able to do the second coat.” He poured himself more ice tea, holding up the glass. “I’ll leave this by the door so I won’t bother you. I’d better get back to work.”

“I’ll be in my office if you should want anything.”

By the door Michael stepped into his shoes and returned to finish painting. Nina settled in her office to outline the next scenes of her novel, remembering the characteristics she’d gleaned from Barry.

Every now and then she glanced through the window, filled with gladness to see Michael there, like somebody who naturally belonged in her world.

Later, his voice behind her startled her. “Am I interrupting anything?”

She turned to see him standing on the threshold to her office. Her breath caught in her throat at his sparkling eyes, bluer in the bright light.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” She motioned to one of the armchairs. “Have a seat.”

“Not right now. If you bought the carpet, I’ll take it out of your car.”

She stood to accompany him. “Yes, it’s still there.”

In the garage he heaved out the roll of carpet from the trunk, laying it on the floor, out of the way. He pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his overall and wiped his face. “Very nice color; it will go well with the peachy coral of the floor.” His eyes met hers. “If you’re not busy right now could we go inside?”

Surprised, she glanced at him. Then she preceded him to her office, sat in her desk chair while he took one of the recliners. “Care for a drink? Some coffee?” She didn’t seem able to get out of the habit of offering drinks or food, as if her own company wasn’t enough.

Michael shook his head, leaned elbows on knees, his eyes intense on Nina’s face.

“I guess you wondered about Sophie’s presence here when you came home.” His intonation made it a statement, not a question. Before she could respond he continued. ‘A couple of years ago, Sophie and I dated a few times. She’s interesting, fun to be with. I guess we were both feeling lonely. For a few months we saw each other often—dinners, movies, sailing.” He stopped talking and stared at the floor. Looking up, his eyes met hers, steady, unblinking. “We became intimate. It was nice while it lasted, but our different work schedules kept us apart, and we weren’t prepared for a commitment; not Sophie, not me either. We talked about it and decided to stop seeing each other.” He stood, stretched and came to stand close to Nina. With his hands on her shoulders, he gazed at her upturned face. “It’s over, past history. Sophie and I developed a good friendship, the kind that sometimes grows after intimacy. I thought you might guess about us, so I prefer to tell you.”

Taking a deep breath, Nina stood and kept her eyes on his face, solemn, a faint smile teasing the corners of his mouth, blue eyes dancing. “Today, when I saw you together, I wondered. Frankly, to ask you point blank, or Sophie, seemed like interfering, so I decided to leave it alone.”

He still held her by the shoulders. “In a short time I’ve grown to like you a lot, Nina. More than you know. I want things honest and open between us.”

She placed her hands on his forearms, wanting to respond that she was fond of him, too, or something to that effect. What could she say that would be enough, but not too much? In the end she only said she didn’t like secrets either, and appreciated his frankness.

He glanced at his watch. “I have to be at the clinic shortly. Walk me to the car, will you?”

Her hand slipped into his as they went through the house.

His gaze made her feel light-headed. She leaned against the side of the car. Her eyes met his, wondering what she read in his look.

Then she was alone; the afternoon dragged on, hour after heavy hour. Long after he’d left, Nina sat watching a movie when the phone rang. She was both pleased and surprised to hear Michael’s voice.

“I’ll be busy tonight. Only wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

She assured him she would be fine and added, “Have a nice evening.” She sat, the receiver still in hand, puzzled over why he found it necessary to let her know he had plans for the evening.

Chapter 15
 

Sunday morning Nina microwaved a mug of water for tea while she fetched the newspaper from the driveway. The sky was overcast, the northeasterly wind gusty and cold. Shivering, she hurried inside and crawled into bed for a leisurely hour of hot tea and the paper.

After her morning routine, she logged onto the laptop in her office and opened the door to the lanai to let in the cool fresh air, a welcome change from the air-conditioning. Through the window she watched the areca palm fronds dance and swirl, the wind making them crunch and whoosh.

A “dring” from the computer alerted her that someone had signed on to the instant messenger; the little window in the corner announced it was Natalie. Wonderful! Nina jumped on every opportunity to be in touch with her granddaughters.

She typed in her message. “Hi. Got time for chat?” and sent it.

An instant later Natalie answered. After the usual greetings, Morgan joined them, and for the next hour Nina read and laughed to herself and typed.

“Tell me where you are and what you see,” Natalie asked.

“I’m in my office. Looking at the pool I can’t use because a friend is painting the deck.”

“Can’t you swim?”

“Not for a few days. To Natalie … did you do well on your math test?”

“Got the highest grade.”

“Hey, that’s great. You’re so smart.”

Morgan was typing. “Have you asked Mama if she’ll let us come visit?”

Hmm, better be honest. The girls were sharp and would catch on to any falsehood. “No, chérie, but I will. It’s a promise.”

“Mama said she’s angry because you left Annecy.”

“I know, and I’m sad your Mama is angry with me.”

Natalie was typing. “She says you’ve abandoned us.”

“What do
you
think?”

“I know you would never do that,” Morgan typed.

“Me too,” from Natalie.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t abandon you or Mama. Sometimes we have to do things that are hurtful and don’t seem very pleasant. But I love all of you very much.”

After they signed off, Nina sat smiling and content, gazing through the window, surprised the sky was still heavy with clouds. How odd, she was sure the sun was shining.

The time chatting with the girls had been fun, but she needed to focus on other things, such as what to wear to a barbecue on a Sunday at noon? She didn’t have a clue, didn’t own any leisurewear, having been unable to go shopping after the accident. Possibly a cotton print. Why was it so important how she dressed? She couldn’t remember it being an issue in Annecy.

In the end the chilly, blustery weather made the choice for her: slacks, a blouse, and a cardigan in case she felt cold. And a touch of scent. She could still hear her beloved Mama, “My dear Nina, remember, a lady is never fully dressed until she wears scent and a smile.”

Samantha’s roses in hand, Nina hesitated, feeling ill at ease, her hands wet with perspiration, anxiety like a lump in her throat. She wished she hadn’t accepted the invitation to this barbecue—most of the guests were strangers to her. As she’d told Michael, she wasn’t used to socializing without being accompanied by either André or one of her coworkers. What did she have to contribute? What could she talk about that would be of interest to anybody, she—newly divorced, a retiree, and a foreigner? What did she use to talk about in Annecy at a party? That was different—old friends, the past a common bond or shoptalk with colleagues. Too late to chicken out now, she’d try to make the best of it. Filling her lungs, she squared her shoulders and left the house.

Crossing the street, the wind nearly tore the roses from her grip. She leaned into the gust, running to take shelter by Brian’s house. Voices and sounds of laughter drifted from the back yard. Instead of ringing the doorbell, she walked around the house to the lanai.

“There you are, Nina.” Samantha opened the screen door. “Good to see you.”

“Sorry I’m late. I was chatting with the twins.” She handed Samantha the roses. “Hope I haven’t ruined lunch or upset your plans.”

“Not at all.” Samantha held the blossoms to her face, inhaling. “You shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did—I love roses, and this color is lovely.”

Together they walked toward the group of people gathered around the table. In the pool, three boys were playing a boisterous ball game.

The lanai was similar to Nina’s, except Brian and Samantha had sacrificed the hot tub for an oversized pool. The furniture, white rattan with linden bloom green cushions on chairs and on the couch against the wall, accentuated the same shade of green that dotted the ceramic tile flooring. Baskets of salmon-pink azaleas hung from the ceiling over the dining area. The house itself sheltered the lanai from the high wind.

To one side by the table, Nina spotted Michael in conversation with a tall woman in a grey dress printed with orangey flowers. As Nina watched, the woman gave him an impish smile and rested her hand on his arm. Michael glanced in

Nina’s direction, beaming with recognition. Taking the woman by the elbow, he escorted her across the floor.

“Good to see you, Nina. You look very nice.” His voice was deep and melodious, his eyes appreciative as he looked at her. He turned to the woman. “Cindy, meet Nina. She’s Brian’s new neighbor, just arrived from France. Nina, meet Cindy, my ex-wife.”

Cindy scrutinized Nina from head to foot. Her light grey eyes—with hooded lids painted green behind lashes heavy with mascara—not missing a detail.

“Nice to meet you, Nina,” she said in a smoker’s husky voice.

Cindy was heavy set with broad shoulders and stocky legs. Her hair, dyed copper, was shoulder length with a fringe, and the light makeup didn’t quite hide her freckles. The coloring spoke of Irish ancestry, Nina assumed. With her good bone structure and fine complexion Cindy was a good-looking woman.

Nina was surprised to find herself face to face with Cindy. She was due in town any day, Nina knew, but no one had said she would be present at the barbecue. Nina’s first reaction was to make an excuse and return to the security of her own home. Pride and good manners wouldn’t allow it; she would tough it out. She wished somebody had thought to tell her, but evidently nobody imagined Cindy would make her feel ill at ease in ways Nina couldn’t identify.

Samantha returned to the lanai, carrying a vase with the roses Nina had brought. “Why don’t you introduce Nina to everyone, while I get the salads and rolls,” she said to Michael.

“Yes, sure.” He smiled at Cindy and took Nina’s arm. Together they approached a group of four people. Clearing his throat, he said, “Nina, meet Chris, my youngest.” Michael motioned with his hand. “Peter’s my middle son. He’s the tallest of the three and has hands like shovels.” Michael chuckled. “Chris, Peter, I’d like you to meet Nina Brochard. She recently moved here from France and lives across the street.”

Chris took Nina’s hand. His eyes were as blue as Michael’s, both had the same open, frank look. “I couldn’t wait to meet you. Dad has said nice things about you.” He patted her hand.

The blond young woman next to Chris smiled. “Hi, I’m Linda, Chris’s wife.”

“Hi, Linda. Nice to meet you.”

Peter seemed reserved. His eyes, the lids drooping at the corners, gave him a guarded and withdrawn look.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said. “Chris is right, Dad’s been talking about the French lady.”

Nina laughed at his use of the expression “French lady.” It sounded almost exotic the way he said it. What had Michael told them? All this attention made her feel self-conscious. With a furtive gesture she dried her moist hands on her slacks, stretching her neck to ease the tension. She turned to the other blond woman. “Hi, you must be Peter’s wife.”

“Yes. I’m Allyson, but everybody calls me Ally.” Her Southern accent made Nina imagine lavish mansions, magnolias and swaying crinoline skirts.

Both Linda and Ally were young and slim with even tans that made Nina think of hours on the tennis court.

During introductions Brian busied himself by the barbecue, basting and turning pieces of meat. Every now and then Nina saw him glance at the group. He caught her attention and beckoned for her to come closer. “Glad you made it. How’s the ankle?”

“The ankle’s a bad memory. I can put weight on it, and I can drive again.”

He raised the lid of the grill, and she got a whiff of the food. “Mmm, smells delicious. Felt it in the air the minute I arrived. Sorry I don’t eat meat.” She leaned against the wall. “Your brothers and sisters-in-law seem very nice.”

“They are. So are their kids.”

She smiled and turned her head to watch the boys laughing and shouting in the pool. “I’ll meet them when they’re through playing.”

Brian chortled. “Wait till the food is ready—they’ll be out of there and into the grub faster than you can imagine.” He basted a rack of ribs. “I saw Dad introduced you and Mom.”

“Yes, we met. I was surprised to see her, didn’t know she’d arrived.”

“Dad met her at the airport last night and drove her here. I was going to fetch her, but work got in the way. I thought he told you.”

Oh, so that explained Michael’s phone call and “busy evening!” She wondered why he felt the need to tell her he was busy, but not to mention meeting Cindy. Had she bothered to look out the window last night she would have noticed his car in Brian’s driveway, but she’d been watching TV, not neighbors’ houses.

“No,” she said to Brian. “What made you think he’d tell me?”

Brian’s face registered mild surprise. “I thought you were friends.”