Page 41 of Provoked

The laughter and hugs somehow carry me into the kitchen, where I’m pushed gently into a chair where a giant plate of lasagna is waiting on the scarred surface of the old table.

22

There’s still plenty of awkwardness left in the family dynamic, I discover when everyone starts retiring for bed. A few busybodies linger. And then I discover why. My mom bites her lip and then blurts out, “Ingrid is staying in your old room, but there’s only the twin bed…”

I roll my eyes. “It doesn’t matter, Mom. Nothing salacious is happening tonight. And when it does, nobody in this family will be within interrupting distance.”

There’s a general sigh of disappointment from the bystanders. Ingrid is blushing furiously, but her lips are twitching too.

“I’ll sleep in the downstairs study,” I declare to put an end to the inevitable debate before we start discussing proximity to the bathroom versus firmness of the mattress. My parents both blink and nod. My mom actually bends to give me a hug, which I manage to return awkwardly. Ingrid beams with pride.

As I pass her on my way out of the kitchen to make up thesofa bed in the den, I lean down to whisper in her ear. “I didn’t say nobody else was going to hear, baby. In approximately thirty-six hours, you’ll be screaming my name loud enough to wake the next town over.”

Her brown eyes widen and there’s a faint pink tinge on her cheeks that’s different from her earlier blush of embarrassment. I don’t wait to hear her reply, but there’s no missing her faint whimper. I grin and set about spreading old floral sheets across the lumpy mattress of the pull-out sofa.

The whole clan descends on the kitchen again for breakfast. Someone had the foresight to bring pastries, so my mom busies herself making coffee. I can see that she’s beginning to feel her age, but I know better than to suggest she sit down and let someone else take over.

“I thought we might check out the farmer’s market this afternoon,” Ingrid suggests hesitantly.

I shake my head firmly. “No. You and I are leaving for Paris this afternoon.”

There’s dead silence in the room as everyone stops mid-bite.

I sigh and explain. “Turning the opinion of the media doesn’t make them go away. If we stay here, they’ll be camped out in the yard and Dad will never get his lawn right.” There are a few snickers at that as my father is notoriously obsessed with making the twelve by sixteen lawn at the front of the house worthy of a grand British estate. Nobody dare walk on it, ever.

“If anyone comes asking, tell them we’re going to Costa Rica for a belated honeymoon.”

“But you’ll come back for a longer visit soon?” My mom asks quietly.

I nod. “Ingrid will make sure of it,” I tease gently.

Everyone smiles and nods. “Oh, that’s all right then.” My mom sits back with a smile.

Naturally, she has to pack us provisions for the three-hour drive. So while my mom makes sandwiches, I let the kids tug me around the block to see all the changes in the neighborhood. I have to say they’re pretty subtle. The big scandal is that Mrs. Rosenbaum at the end of the block has dared to plant red geraniums in front of her lavender house. I wouldn’t have even noticed if Heather hadn’t pointed it out in a hushed whisper.

When we get back my dad has the news on loud enough to hear throughout the whole house. There’s no escaping the shocked tones of the newscasters as they retell yesterday’s events for anyone that might have missed it or just wants to revel in the scandal. The tide has firmly turned. Margot is now persona non grata, but it seems the network had already paid her and can’t get their money back unless she returns to the US. That, right there, is probably the best guarantee that she won’t.

“And we hear the star-crossed couple are finally going to celebrate their happy ending in South America. The notice we received didn’t say where. Do you think there’s a chance they’ll run into Menacing Margot?” One anchor asked with a slight giggle. The other frowns. “I can’t imagine that’s very likely. But we certainly wish the happy couple all the best. I’m sure they have a lot totalkabout,” she concludes with a big wink.

Sighing, I extract Ingrid from all the hugs and goodbyes and usher her into the Mercedes.

Justin’s come back into himself, I decide as we take our seats in first class on the direct flight from Quebec City to Paris. But this time he’s happier and less on edge. He accepts the two glasses of champagne from the flight attendant and hands meone, waiting until I’ve settled my purse by my feet. I am so not dressed for Paris, so I’m still a little mad at him for not leaving me any time to shop in Quebec. But he did promise me an entire day of wardrobe shopping without a single complaint once we’re in France.

“We’re not actually staying in Paris, by the way,” he mutters just as the crew start going through the emergency procedures. I gape at him, but the flight attendant is standing right next to him so I can hardly start cross-examining him until they’re done.

“What do you mean?” I finally hiss. “I’m buying clothes in the airport?”

He shakes his head with amusement. “No. I promised you a day of shopping and I intend to deliver, but then we’re driving to the southern coast to stay in a small secluded chateau.”

I blink at that. “Why?”

His eyes get that banked fire look I’ve seen only a few times before. “Because I intend to make you scream and I’d rather not have an audience.”

I gulp. “What kind of screaming?”

His eyes relax into laughter. “The good kind. Did you do something I don’t know about that would warrant a spanking?”

I shake my head violently. “No. I just can never tell with you.”

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