Page 140 of Ten Years and Then…
She didn’t look like she was convinced, but she shook Nora’s hand firmly enough. She’ll figure it out, Nora told herself. Maybe not right away, but she would. Because if Nora had learned anything, it was that growth was always possible
Chapter 45
October, 1999—Charlotte, NC/Boston, MA
Daniel, October 24
“I’m not taking no for an answer, Daniel. I already paid for the plane tickets.”
Daniel wasn’t sure why he was even arguing. Most people—sane people—would just say “thank you” when they were told that somebody who loved them wanted to take them on an all-expenses-paid trip to Paris.
He was sane, wasn’t he? “Thank you, Bee.” He knew she was doing it to distract him from thinking about Nora while not actually doing anything about her seven months after he’d sworn to his cousin that he would.
“That’s better,” she said, and headed into his kitchen. She returned five minutes later with a bottle of seltzer water and two glasses. “This will have to do for a toast, since you don’t have anything even vaguely resembling a celebration-worthy beverage in this house.”
He shrugged. “You know I’m not a big drinker, and other than you, I never have people over.”
Bianca sighed. “You don’t even have any real soda!”
“I was drinking a liter of Coke nearly every day, and my pants were starting to get too tight. Unless you want to buy me a whole new wardrobe, you’ll have to live with the seltzer water.”
She poured the seltzer water, handed him a glass and clinked hers to it. “Well, here’s to you doing something new and adventurous. We’ll make it a proper champagne toast on New Year’s Eve in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower.” Then she took a sip of her drink and almost spit it out. “This isn’t even flavored, Daniel! There is something seriously wrong with you. Even people with hopelessly broken hearts are allowed to drink flavored water.”
There was no point protesting that it had nothing to do with his heart; all the flavored waters used fake sugar, which had a nasty aftertaste and gave him a headache ten minutes after he drank it. “Just for you, I’ll buy something better next time I go to the store. How about red-flavored Hawaiian Punch?”
“You really are hopeless, Daniel,” she said, grinning. “But I love you anyway.”
Nora, October 25
Nora was out on the sidewalk outside her office waiting for Rachel when her taxi pulled up a little after noon. She waited for her aunt to get out and grab her luggage from the trunk before running over to hug her.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” It was a rare treat to see Rachel in person, ever since she’d moved permanently to London for her job three years ago, but she usually announced her visits well ahead of time. This morning, she’d called Nora from the baggage claim area at Logan Airport and told her to clear her afternoon schedule.
“I can’t just visit my favorite niece?”
Nora laughed. “I’m your only niece, and of course you can. You just usually give me more notice.” She took Rachel’s suitcase into the lobby and asked Bruno at the security desk to lock it away until she got back. “Okay, I hope you didn’t eat on the plane, because I made reservations at my favorite Thai place for us.”
Ten minutes later, they were seated, they’d ordered, and Rachel got down to business. “I was going to call and discuss this with you, but they needed me in New York tomorrow, so I figured I could see you first and take the train down to Manhattan tonight.”
What did she want to discuss? What was so important that Rachel would be willing to waste four hours on a train instead of flying straight to New York?
“You’re being very mysterious.”
“Sorry,” Rachel said, shrugging. “It’s something good. I made New Year’s Eve plans for you.”
Now Nora was even more confused. What was her aunt talking about? “That’s two months from now.”
Rachel dug into her purse and put an envelope on the table. Nora picked it up and looked at what was printed there—Air France?
“Figured it out yet?” No, she hadn’t. She opened the envelope, and inside was a plane ticket.
“December 27th, Boston to Paris? Rachel, what did you do?”
“Cashed in all my frequent flyer miles. You’ll get in on the morning of the 28th, and I’ll take the train over from London to meet you. There’s something else in there, by the way.”
Nora pulled out the little slip of paper she’d missed before. Written in Rachel’s careful script was:
L’Hôtel
