Rory smothered a groan. To say the memory was cringeworthy would be the understatement of the year. “I’m sorry about that. My life’s kind of upside down right now, and it just hit me all of a sudden. I apologize for rushing out like that, without thanking you or saying a proper goodbye. It was rude.”
“It was no such thing. But I didn’t come for an apology. I came to make sure you were all right. I’ve been worrying about you these last few days, and it occurred to me that I didn’t have to. I could come and see for myself that you were all right.”
Rory dropped her gaze, embarrassed that this reclusive woman had felt the need to schlep across town to check on her. “You didn’t have to come. Really. I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Rory. It’s all right to be sad.”
Rory’s head came up slowly. The words, so different from her mother’s well-meaning stoicism, seemed to unlock something in her chest, like a door suddenly swinging open.
“Do you have coffee?” Soline asked when the silence grew awkward.
“Coffee?”
“I brought breakfast. Pain au chocolat and chausson aux pommes.”
Rory blinked at her, nodding slowly. “Yes, I have coffee.”
Rory led Soline to the kitchen, hoping she wouldn’t notice the basket of unfolded laundry on the couch or the jumble of snow boots still sitting in front of the coat closet. They hadn’t had snow since March.
In the kitchen, she gathered the containers from last night’s takeout and slid them into the trash, then set about consolidating the dirty dishes in the sink. After a few minutes, she gave up. A sink full of dirty dishes was a sink full of dirty dishes, no matter how neatly they were stacked.
“Sorry about the mess,” she said as she finished measuring out the coffee. “I don’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen these days. Cooking for one isn’t much fun, so it’s mostly takeout now, and things sort of pile up.”
“It’s true,” Soline said, grabbing a knife from the nearby block to snip the twine on the pastry box. “Cooking for one isn’t fun. But one must eat, and not always from cartons. Have you plates for the pastries?”
“In the cabinet to your left. There should be napkins there too.”
She watched as Soline worked her gloves off and began transferring pastries to a plate. She had no idea what her landlady was doing in her kitchen, but she suddenly realized she was glad. Though she did wonder how Soline had managed to get all the way to the South End without a car. “Please tell me you didn’t carry that box on the T and then walk all the way from the station.”
“Of course not. I took a taxi. Come and sit.” She waited for Rory to join her at the table, then slid the plate of pastries toward her. “Que désirez-vous?”
Rory found herself wishing she’d paid better attention in French class. “I’m sorry. I don’t speak much French—well, any French, actually.”
“I asked: What is your pleasure?”
“Right. The apple, I think.”
“And I will have the chocolat.” Soline slid a croissant onto her plate, then shook out her napkin and laid it in her lap. “All right,” she said finally, licking powdered sugar from her fingers. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
Soline cocked her head, one brow raised. “Are we going to play games, you and I?”
“I still don’t understand what you’re doing here. Why do you care?”
“Why do you think?”
“Because it’s my turn?”
“Partly, yes. But it’s more than that. You remind me of someone I knew once.”
“Who?”
“Me,” Soline said, pausing to sip her coffee. “Life has done something to you, taken something from you. I don’t know what or how long ago, but you can’t find your feet again. This gallery of yours, you want to pretend it will fill the hole life has carved in you. But deep down, you know it can’t. And you’re afraid nothing ever will.”
Rory swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. It was true. Every word. But how? “Did Brett say something to Daniel? Is that how you know all this?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then how?”
Soline’s smile was both brief and wistful as she lowered her mug. “We’re kindred spirits, you and I. Strangers who share a common past.”
Rory wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this. “I don’t understand.”