I splutter.
“P,” she says at a lower decibel but with no less force. “You think I don’t see you, but I do. I see how you keep almost everyone around you at a distance. I see how little you care about the pompous douchebags you date. And even though you’ve buried your shit with Sam under more piles of shit, I know this is a big fucking deal.”
This stuns me. “I thought you liked Sebastian,” I murmur.
She lets out a low laugh. “Remember when the four of us went to brunch? The server had been ignoring us, and you had to use the bathroom? You told Sebastian to order for you if she came by?”
I tell her I remember before she continues.
“He ended up ordering you a huge stack of chocolate-chip pancakes while you were gone. You hate sweets at breakfast, and you didn’t say a thing. You just thanked him. You ate, like, half a pancake, and he didn’t even notice.”
“It was just breakfast,” I say quietly.
“There is nothing just about food,” Chantal replies, and I can’t help but laugh. Sue and Chantal would have gotten along. Then she sighs deeply. “My point is that he didn’t really know you, even months and months into the relationship, and you didn’t help him get to know you. I didn’t like that.”
I don’t know what to say.
“Just tell me what’s going on,” Chantal says after a moment of silence. Chantal, who figured out my entire relationship strategy with one brunch order. So I do. I tell her all of it.
“Are you going to tell him?” she asks when I’ve finished. “The whole truth?”
“I don’t know if it’s worth it, bringing up the past again, just so I don’t feel guilty anymore,” I say.
Chantal makes a humming sound that means she doesn’t agree. “Let’s not pretend this is just about making yourself feel better. You’ve never moved on.”
* * *
BY THE TIME I head back inside, most of the guests have gone home, Dolly and Shania have been shut off, and Sam, Charlie, their grandparents, and a small group of aunts, uncles, and cousins are sitting around a row of pushed-together tables with glasses of wine and brandy. Sam and Charlie look tired, but mostly they seem relieved, not so bunched up in the shoulders. I leave the Floreks to reminisce, find a spare red apron in the linen closet and a serving tray behind the bar, and start clearing the dirty plates and glasses, bringing them to Julien, who’s hunched over the dishwasher in the kitchen.
We’ve been working mostly in silence for almost an hour and finishing up the last of the cutlery when Julien says, “I always wondered where you went to,” his eyes still on the silverware.
“I didn’t really go anywhere. I just didn’t come back,” I tell him. “My parents sold the cottage.” A few long seconds go by.
“I think we both know that’s not why you disappeared,” he says, and I pause. I dry off the last fork, and I’m about to ask Julien what he means, when he speaks. “We all thought you should come.” He turns to me, his eyes boring into mine. “Just don’t vanish again.”
“What do you mean we . . .” I start to say, when the door swings open and Sam steps in, holding a half-dozen dirty glasses. He stops when he sees us and the door swings shut, bumping him in the shoulder. He eyes the apron and the tea towel I’m holding.
“Déjà vu,” he says with a lazy half grin. He seems a little blurry around the edges. He’s removed his jacket and loosened his tie. The top button on his shirt is undone.
“Still got it,” I say, sticking my hip out and motioning to the apron, feeling Julien’s eyes on me. “You know where to come if you’re short-staffed.”
Julien scoffs. “She’s only a little less shit than you at dishes,” he tells Sam just as Charlie walks in with a few empty snifters.
“Everyone’s cleared out. This should be the last of it,” he says, putting the glasses in a rack. “Thanks so much for cleaning up, both of you. And for putting this all together, Julien. It was exactly what Mom wanted.” He brushes by me to give Julien a hug, smelling of the brandy and cigarettes he’s been indulging in. Sam follows suit, then pulls me into an embrace, whispering a thank-you in my ear that feels like a warm towel wrapped around damp shoulders.
“You kids get out of here,” Julien says. “I’ll finish and lock up.”
Charlie looks around at the spotless stainless steel surfaces. “Everything seems done to me. Why don’t we all head out and go back to the house? We can grab a pizza on the way—I didn’t eat anything.”