Page 28 of The Feud

“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…”

Her voice trails off and she lets out a tiny sob. My arm goes back around her. “She never woke up again?”

Sylvie shakes her head violently. “She never spoke again and died a day later.”

“I can’t imagine how confusing all of that was for you. Watching your mother die, a revelation that was hard to understand, and no one who could answer any questions for you. It’s not fair you had to go through that.”

There’s a hint of anger in her tone. “I have no say in any of this. I just have to go where people tell me and no one cares what I want.”

I take a breath and decide to put some distance between us. I want her to listen to what I have to say and I want her to see me more as an authority figure than a nurturer. So I move back to my side of the booth and push my plate aside, ignoring my food.

“Sylvie… let’s try to reason out the best way to handle your situation. I understand you don’t want to be with the Blackburns, but maybe if you could tell me why you want to stay with Lionel and Rosemund, we can come up with a solution. You’ll be talking to the judge in a couple months and he’s going to take your wishes into consideration. Tell me what you love about being with them.”

I get the answer I was expecting simply by the blank look on her face. I wait patiently but she can’t articulate one solid reason other than she likes her uncle Gabe, but then admits he’s hardly ever there because he works so much. It’s patently clear the child has no emotional connection with either of her Mardraggon grandparents.

I pounce on this moment of doubt to transition to her current living situation. “If I could wave a magic wand, I would help you get back home to France, but I can’t. The only thing I can do is try to help you acclimate here. But one thing I know about Ethan Blackburn… if it’s important to you, I bet he’d take you back to visit.”

It’s clear I’ve shocked Sylvie by the flaring of her eyes and parting of her lips, but she still looks distrustful.

“Can you tell me all the ways in which the Blackburns are making life hard for you? Since your father has asked me to intervene, I need to be able to talk to him to help resolve those issues. For example, does he yell at you a lot?”

Sylvie frowns and shakes her head. “He doesn’t yell at all. No one does. But neither do the Mardraggons.”

I nod in understanding, giving her a smile. “Does Ethan call you names, belittle you? Does he make you feel bad about yourself?”

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