49- Fire

"During dinner, you told us that you had stood in line at a cinema to see A Sunday in the Country, but there were no more tickets left, and Adrien, being a joker - it runs in the family - had jokingly suggested a Sunday in the countryside, right in front of his motorcycle. It was either take it or leave it, and you had taken it, which explained your advanced state of freezing because you had left Paris wearing just a t-shirt and a raincoat. Adrien was eyeing you up and it must have been difficult for him because you still didn't look up. When he talked about you, we saw a dimple, so we imagined that you were smiling at us... I also remember that you were wearing a pair of sports shoes for what reason... "Yellow Converse, that's right!" "Yes, that's it. So now you can criticize the ones I bought for Lucie the other day... Look, I have to tell you, hey... Don't mind him, darling, when I met your mother, I was wearing yellow shoes with red laces..." "Do you remember the laces too?" "I remember everything, Chloé, everything, do you hear me? The red laces, the book you were reading the next day under the cherry tree while Adrien was taking his contraption apart..." "What book was it?" "The World According to Garp, right?" "Exactly." "I remember you had offered to clear the pathway to the old cellar for Suzanne. I remember the adoring looks she gave you as she watched you struggle with the brambles. It was like it said 'Daughter-in-law? Daughter-in-law?' in golden sparkling letters in front of her eyes. I took you to the Saint-Amand market, you bought goat cheese and we had a Martini in the village square. You were reading an article about Andy Warhol, I think, while Adrien and I played pinball..." "It's amazing, how does he remember all that?" "Well... it's not that impressive... It was one of the few times we shared something..." "Between Adrien and you, you mean?"

"Yes..."

"Yes."

I got up to get the cheese.

"No, no, don't change the plates, it's not necessary." "But yes! I know you can't stand eating cheese on the same plate." "Really? Oh... Right... Another old fool habit, isn't it?" "Well... yes, I think so..." He handed me his plate with a smirk. "Witch. Dimples." "I remember your wedding, of course... You were holding onto my arm and you looked so beautiful... You kept twisting your ankles. We were crossing the same Saint-Amand square when you whispered in my ear: 'You should kidnap me, throw these damn shoes out of your car window, and we'd go eat seafood at Yvette's...' That idea made my head spin. I squeezed my gloves in my hand. Here, help yourself first..." "No, no, you go ahead." "What else could I say to you?... I remember one day we had arranged to meet at the café right below my office so you could return a ladle or something that Suzanne had lent you. I must have seemed unpleasant that day, I was in a hurry, I was worried... I left before you could finish your tea. I was asking you about your work and probably not really listening to your answers, well, anyway... Well, that same evening, during dinner, when Suzanne asked me 'What's new?', just like that, out of curiosity, I replied: 'Chloé is pregnant.' 'Did she tell you?' 'No. In fact, I don't even know if she knows herself...' Suzanne shrugged and raised her eyes to the sky, but I was right. A few weeks later, you announced the good news..." "How did you guess?" "I don't know... It seemed to me that your complexion had changed, that your tiredness was due to something else..." "..." "I could go on like this for a long time. You see, you're unfair. What did you say? That in all this time, all these years, I had never been interested in you... Ohh, Chloé, aren't you ashamed?" I put on an angry face. "But I am selfish, that's true. I'm telling you that I don't want you to leave because I don't want you to leave. I feel more connected to you than to my own daughter. My own daughter will never tell me that I'm an old fool, she's content with thinking that I'm just a fool!" He got up to get the salt shaker. "But... what's wrong with you?" "Nothing. There's nothing wrong with me." "Yes, you're crying." "No, I'm not, I'm not crying. Look, I'm not crying." "Yes, you are crying! Do you want a glass of water?" "Yes." "Oh, Chloé... I don't want you to cry. It makes me sad." "And there you go! Always about you! You're incorrigible..." I tried to make a joke, but bubbles of snot came out of my nose, it was pathetic to see me. I laughed. I cried. That wine didn't cheer me up at all. "I shouldn't have talked to you about all this..." "No, no, of course you should. They're my memories too... I just need to get used to the idea a little. I don't know if you realize, but the situation is very new to me... Two weeks ago, I was still a high society mother. I flipped through my planner on the subway to organize dinners and filed my nails while thinking about vacations. I said to myself, 'Should we bring the girls or just the two of us?' Well, you see what the dilemma was... "I also said to myself: 'We should look for another apartment, this one is okay, but it's too dark...' I was waiting for Adrien to feel better to talk to him about it, because it was clear that he wasn't doing well lately... Irritable, sensitive, tired... I worried about him, I said to myself: 'They're going to kill him at this crazy company, but what's with these absurd working hours?'" He turned towards the fire.