if you want it. Can you come in today to discuss?”
“I can’t.” My heartbeat quickened. Wait, he was actually offering me the promotion? My dream? “I’m in France.”
“France? With your grandmother? When are you coming back?”
The barn swallows—les hirondelles—swooped in the sky in a joyous, orchestrated dance. The sun beat down on my head and dizziness set in. There was no way I could leave Champvert now—no matter how much my heart ached to do so. The chac-chac-chacs of the magpies reminded me of that.
“About that. I’m not sure. She’s taken ill and I’m helping her out here until she gets better.”
“Look, I can hold down the kitchen for a while, months even. I’m planning on getting everything back on track. And, if you saw it, don’t worry about the article in the Times.”
“I did. See it,” I said, not wanting to think about it.
“I’m sending in my retraction,” he said. “I have more clout in the culinary world than Eric does. He’s a talentless, disloyal twit, and I’ll take care of this. I’m going to clear your name and bring him down.” O’Shea laughed a hearty laugh. “Blackbird may have the shortest opening in history. I’m sorry those two boneheads did this to you.”
“Me, too, Chef. Me, too.” A happy tear slid down my cheek.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper like that, Sophie. I’m ashamed of my behavior. I promise. It won’t happen again.” His voice sounded pained. I felt terrible. “So, will you think about my offer?”
“I will, but I don’t know when I’ll be back in New York.”
“Take as much time as you need,” he said. “I’ll be waiting for your response.”
“Thank you for calling, Chef,” I said and hung up, sinking to my knees.
I surveyed the grounds, now coming back to life. The buds on the magnolia trees were already tinged pink. One day soon, the flowers would bloom, just like I, in a way, was blooming, too. Could I leave all of this behind? Still, if I took him up on his offer, I’d be back to telling O’Shea’s culinary story, not mine. I didn’t know if I should be celebrating or what. Part of me was happy, and the other part of me felt extraordinarily guilty for even thinking about leaving Champvert.
My grand-mère couldn’t die. If she did, she was counting on me to take over the château, and I couldn’t do it without her. All of this was just being given to me. I hadn’t worked for it. In addition to the reservation system and the two kitchens, there was so much to manage here. The château made and sold the honey and confitures to outside vendors. Add in the wine business, and it was far too much for one person to handle without going crazy. At least I knew what waited for me at Cendrillon—the long hours and sexual harassment were a cakewalk compared to the stress that came with the château. I needed to talk with Grand-mère. Now. I needed the answers to the rest of my questions.
I took in a deep breath, knocked, and entered her room. I didn’t say a word, just stood there trying to figure out what I was going to say.
“Ma chérie,” she said, looking up from her magazine, “you look out of sorts. Is something wrong?”
“Yes and no. I’ve been vindicated. Chef O’Shea just called me. He received a letter that cleared my name,” I said, not meeting her eyes.
“I see,” she said pointedly. “I’m assuming O’Shea’s apology came with a job offer. Are you thinking of moving back to New York?”
I shrugged. “I need time to process everything that’s been going on.”
“What do you need to process?”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I just held my breath. But it was now or never. She seemed to be doing well. I wanted answers. I whipped around and met her gaze. “To make my decision, I need to know why Mother left Champvert and never looked back.”
The silence that followed my statement was punctuated with heavy breaths—mine.
“I knew this day would come,” she said, struggling to pull out her diary from her nightstand. “Sit down next to me,” she commanded, and I did. “Forward a few pages. No more. Now read.” Her eyes met mine. “Yes, here’s where we shall begin.” She inhaled deeply. “I’ve been dreading this day.”
My voice shook as I read the words.
21 April, 1993
Céleste—
I’ve just gotten back from the doctor with you. You are pregnant and I am aghast. On the