The Secret French Recipes of Sophie Valroux - Samantha Verant Page 0,62
the menu I’d concocted, looking for her approval. “Is that okay?”
“Darling, you’re the seafood expert, and when I’m not in the kitchen, it’s yours.”
We took the lift up to the third floor. “The key to my room is on the ledge,” she said. “With all the guests milling about, I don’t take any chances. A few years ago, a very drunk and very naked man stumbled into my suite.”
I snorted out a laugh as I grabbed the key. “How—how enlightening?”
“It was quite the shock,” said Grand-mère. Judging by her tone, the incident wasn’t funny to her at all.
I stood in my grandmother’s room: similar to mine, but decorated in pale blues instead of greens—and nothing at all like the other rooms in the château. It was a time capsule from the past, photographs covered the walls and her dresser. Some of them were old and faded, yellowing at the edges from time, like the pictures of her and my grandfather on their wedding day. Although she still carried elegance and grace, she was drop-dead gorgeous when she was younger, especially in her lace wedding dress. I picked up the photo.
“Wow, you’re so beautiful,” I said.
“Not so much anymore,” she said. “But I was, as they say, quite the looker back in the day.”
“You’re still beautiful.”
“Ma chérie, you’re being kind,” she said. “As you are not blind, you can see that I’m not the woman I was in that picture.”
I ran my fingers across the image. “Grand-père Pierre was really handsome, too. He has broad shoulders, but holds them with grace. Kind eyes.” I paused. “How did you meet him?”
“Ah, well, that’s quite the story. It won’t be as romantic as you might think. My parents came from a powerful shipping family in Bordeaux. We also ran a lovely vineyard. One night, they had a large gala and invited everybody within the region, including Pierre’s parents. Pierre came along and, apparently, fell head over heels in love with me. A coup de foudre, he called it, a bolt of lightning that shocks the system. Love at first sight. I, however, didn’t feel the same way about him. I thought he was pompous. Plus, he was also fifteen years older than me.”
I’d always envisioned her and Grand-père having a whirlwind fairy-tale romance, the kind from the movies—filled with parties and champagne and dancing.
“But you married him anyway,” I said. “Why?”
“Our marriage was arranged,” she continued. “There were few options of proper women for Pierre to choose from in Champvert. It was decided we’d be a good match—a nobleman and the girl from a rich family. Plus, my parents wanted to get me away from one of the vineyard workers I’d fallen for. He was beneath my family’s social stature. Well, there was that fact, and also my parents’ shipping business wasn’t doing well. They needed money. I had to be the good daughter.”
“So you didn’t love Grand-père?” I asked, shocked.
“In time, I grew to love him as well as my life here,” she said. She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “I miss him every day.”
I choked back my surprise. “I never knew any of this.”
“Alors, it’s not the kind of conversation one can have with a child. But you are an adult now—a beautiful young lady at that.”
“Do you regret not marrying for love?”
“Non, comme Edith Piaf chantait, non, je ne regrette rien.”
The lyrics to this song floated in my mind as I took in the life Grand-mère had carved for herself—how there were good things and bad things in the past. And how neither of them could affect you. How you could restart your life from ground zero. I knew the words to the song by heart; my mother used to sing it to me—on her good days, on her bad days, all the time.
“Bernard said he saw a lot of Grand-père in me.”
“I’m sure he was talking about your strength, the conviction in your eyes,” she said, clasping my hands. “I, however, see more of me in you.”
“Me, too,” I said, staring at the photo. I’d always wanted to emulate my strong grandmother, not my weak mother. Maybe now that she was home, some of Grand-mère’s strength would rub off on me. “I’ve always felt connected to you. But Grand-mère, I’m not feeling so tough lately.”
“Oh, darling, I’m so glad you’re back in Champvert, where you belong. You’ll find you’re very powerful. It’s in your blood. You can overcome anything.”
Maybe not anything. “I’m not exactly fitting in here.”