Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“She sounds like an incredibly strong, fierce woman. I see that in you.”
Pulling free from me, Sylvie puts her hand in her lap and drops her gaze. “I didn’t believe her. I knew she’d beat the cancer because if she died… well, then, I wanted to die too.”
Tears start dripping and I scramble out of my seat and slide into the booth next to her. My arm goes around her and her head drops to my shoulder as she weeps. But she’s not done talking and I have a feeling she’s not had one single person to talk to about any of this so far. She needs to purge.
“We moved in with Lionel and Rosemund rather than return to France. I couldn’t understand that because Maman had so many friends back there. But she said she wanted to die in Kentucky and be near her family. Which was weird, because she’s never been close to Rosemund and Lionel, but she was to Uncle Gabe. I pretty much stayed in her bedroom with her, reading a book while she slept.”
I hand Sylvie a napkin from the table and she wipes her eyes, lifting her head from my shoulder. I loosen my hold and angle my body toward her, a silent indication I’m still listening.
“There were many hours where Maman slept so deeply, I would put my cheek near her nose to make sure she was still breathing. They’d squirt medicine into her mouth to keep her comfortable, but it made it hard for her to stay awake.”
“Morphine.”
Sylvie nods and looks at me with a question in her eyes.
“My father died of cancer and he was under hospice care. I’m assuming that was what your mom had at your grandparents’ home?”
“Yes. There was a really nice nurse who came every day to check on her. And sometimes, Maman would wake up and she was able to talk to me. She’d pat the bed and I’d climb in with her. We’d hold hands and talk about how much we missed France and the winery. I knew things were getting bad. She wasn’t eating or drinking. Her lips were so chapped and her eyes were sunken in.”
And this child was in that room, alone and watching her mom die? I can’t even fathom such a thing.
Sylvie smiles though. “We’d speak in French together and I tried to memorize every word, because I didn’t know when it would be her last. One day though, it felt different. I remember she tried to brush my hair off my forehead and that was even too much for her to do. But she said she wanted to tell me something very important. Her voice was so soft, I had a hard time hearing her, so I snuggled in close.”
Sylvie pauses, turns her head to look directly at me. “That’s when she told me about Ethan.”
My eyebrows shoot upward as I wasn’t expecting that. I hadn’t even considered how Sylvie had been given that information.
The raven-haired girl gets an almost dreamy, nostalgic look on her face. “She said to me, ‘My sweet little girl having to grow up so fast.’ She told me I was her proudest accomplishment.”
“I’m sure you were,” I murmur.
Sylvie nods, her smile turning wry. “She told me I was brave and strong, and I’d need to continue to be that way because she had something to tell me. That’s when I knew things could get worse.”
“You found out the truth about your father?”
“She told me about a man named Ethan Blackburn here in Kentucky and that I looked exactly like him. She said that her family and his family hated each other and that’s why she never told anyone that Ethan was my dad. Maman tried to prepare me as best she could. She warned me that she was going to tell Lionel and Rosemund and that they would be very upset.”
“Did your mom ever explain why the feud started in the first place?”
Sylvie shakes her head, looking slightly glum about the lack of knowledge. “Only that it was something that happened very long ago. I tried to get details, but she said that didn’t matter, only that I had to be prepared that the bitterness still existed, and it was going to make things difficult. I didn’t understand why that had anything to do with me but then she said that it was her wish for me to live with Ethan after she died.”
“That must have been such a shock,” I posit.
“I was so angry. I told her I wasn’t going to do it and I was going back to France. But I knew deep down I had no say in the matter. She tried to explain it but speaking was getting hard for her. She told me that she felt Ethan could stand up to his parents and give me the most normal life, and I had no clue what that meant. I asked her to explain but she was tired and wanted to sleep. I waited for hours by her bed, sleeping beside her, waiting for her to wake up so we could talk more about it. I had a million questions, but…”