The Secret French Recipes of Sophie Valroux - Samantha Verant Page 0,95

sprung in all her glory one month early. Everything was coming back to life and thriving—including me. In the morning, I sprinted over to Rémi’s home, eyeing the bushes for les sangliers. I couldn’t wait to tell him of my decision. Breathless, I knocked on the door, and Laetitia, after a second or two, opened it, smiling a wide, toothy grin. “Sophie, it’s wonderful to see you, but are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just ran over from the château,” I said, panting and placing my hands on my knees. “Is Rémi here?”

“Yes,” she said. “He’s upstairs getting Lola ready for the day. Come in, have a seat on the couch. I was just making coffee. Would you like one?”

I nodded, although with my heart racing like it was, maybe it wasn’t a good idea. Laetitia headed over to the Nespresso and plunked a capsule into the machine. In less than sixty seconds, both of us had coffee in hand.

“I’m sorry you didn’t know I was Lola’s grand-mère,” she said. “I’m sure it was quite the shock.”

“In a way, it was,” I said.

“Don’t get me wrong, I miss my daughter every day, but I always knew the truth. She didn’t love him. He didn’t love her. But they did the right thing by Lola.”

I gulped. “What was Anaïs like?”

“Stubborn. Full of life. A bit of a party girl. I could never keep track of her,” she said, smiling with remembrance. “She was like me, back in my wild days in the eighties.”

“And your husband?”

“Let’s just say Anaïs was a lot like me, but her father didn’t do the right thing.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Yes, but I don’t hold him any ill will. We were young and foolish and sometimes things just aren’t meant to be,” she said. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No,” I said. “You’re refreshing. You’re speaking your mind, telling personal things to a stranger.”

“But you’re not exactly a stranger to me. Rémi has told me much about you.”

I couldn’t help but think of my own father. “Was Anaïs’s father’s name Jean-Marc Bourret?”

Laetitia laughed. “No, his name was Armand. Rémi told me you were searching for your father.” She paused. “If you do approach him, make sure you’re prepared, because he might not want to have a thing to do with you. Sadly, that was what happened when Anaïs confronted hers.”

I shuddered. I don’t know what bothered me more. Her warning or the fact that Rémi had told her all about me. Then again, I couldn’t really blame Rémi. Who else was he going to confide in?

Lola scurried down the stairs on her knees—one at a time. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. “Tatie Sophie!” She ran up and flung her strawberry-scented body onto mine like a miniature linebacker, but one wearing a pink tutu and tights. “Chocolat chaud?”

Laetitia scooped her up. “No, my darling, not now,” she said. “But maybe Tatie Sophie will make you one when we return from ballet class.” She winked at me. “I’m taking the tiny dancer. You and Rémi will talk. Voilà. I’m off.”

Before I could blink, Laetitia and Lola left, and Rémi sauntered downstairs, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw me. “What are you doing here?”

“Who, me?” I asked.

“Yes, you,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I-I-I wanted to tell you that I’m sticking around,” I said, stuttering. “For g-good.”

His eyebrows raised curiously or accusingly. I couldn’t tell. “What about your stars?” he asked.

“I’m tired of chasing them. Maybe they’ll come to me?” I said. “Plus, like you said, we have plenty of stars here, the sky fuller and clearer than in New York. We’ll lie on our backs and look up at them tonight.”

My last statement brought a smile to Rémi’s formerly stoic expression. He tilted his head to the side. “You’re not going back to New York?”

“I’m not.”

“Does your decision have anything to do with me?”

“Maybe,” I said.

“Maybe?” he asked.

I straightened my posture and took a deep breath. I could open myself up to him instead of pushing him away. I was ready to take the risk, to put everything, put my heart, on the line. My shoulders trembled. “Fine. It has a lot to do with you. I want to give us a chance. I know what I want now. Can you forgive me?”

“For what? Being scared? Being human?” His voice came out so strong I thought he was going to lay into me for being such an indecisive twit when I had everything I wanted