Page 66 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Sending Greta away was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done.

As she knelt in front of her little girl, she prayed she was doing the right thing. All she’d done was rehash everything in bed as Jamie lay awake holding her. There weren’t any good choices. To be separated from Greta—and her daughter from her—was horrible, and yet it seemed reckless to keep her here right now. She could give in and leave, but there were so many wonderful things for them in this community. To abandon it would feel wrong. To leave Jamie permanently would break her heart. And Sandrine would feel compelled to go with her—Eoghan as well—just when they were happily getting settled here and planting roots together.

“You know,” she told her unsmiling daughter as she crouched down in front of her in Eoghan’s front parlor, “Provence is going to be all warm and sunny. I’ll bet you’ll even be able to swim in the pool.”

“That’s what Eoghan said.” Her big eyes were unblinking. “Mama, I know something’s wrong. I’m not stupid. Everybody has been whispering this morning. I saw Sandrine rubbing that spot between her eyes, and Eoghan’s wrinkles looked deeper. Can’t you tell me the real reason?”

The explanation she’d given her daughter was simple. Sandrine and Eoghan missed the sun, and they thought it would be fun for her to go with them for a little holiday while Sophie stayed behind. She hadn’t wanted Greta to think she was too busy for her and didn’t want her around. Now she was faced with a conundrum: lie to her daughter or scare her? And yet, from her own childhood, she knew it could be more frightening to be kept in the dark. “You know my pregnant goddess sculpture?”

Her daughter nodded slowly, clutching her stuffed sheep.

“Well, a few people don’t like it, and they sprayed some bad words about it—like the graffiti you always point to when we’re coming into the train station in Paris. I thought having you go back to our house in Provence might be happy for a little bit while everyone in Caisleán tries to find out what happened.”

Greta was silent for a moment before saying, “But your design is so beautiful, Mama. What would anyone not like it?”

A question for the ages. “I don’t know. Some people don’t like art where people don’t have their clothes on.”

She tugged her sweater. “But we’re all naked under our clothes, Mama. Our bodies are precious, like you always say. I don’t understand why people would think it’s bad.”

“Neither do I, so we’re going to talk about it with a lot of people this week and try to change things.” She smoothed Greta’s curls with a smile. “And you’re going to send me tons of pictures of you with our flowers and swimming in the pool, okay? Maybe I’ll even be able to dash off to see you. I miss wearing a dress and a skirt, don’t you?”

The smile was slow to develop, but it was genuine. They were out of the woods. “The moment we get to our house I’m going to put on my blue dress with the sunflowers.”

She was not going to cry. So she swallowed down the surge of emotion for the moment. “I love that one!”

Greta shuffled forward and toyed with the buttons on Sophie’s cardigan. “Are you going to be okay, Mama? You look really sad.”

Honest.She had to be honest. “I am sad, and a little angry too. I just wish people could see things the way I see them. Beautiful. But even if they don’t, that we could agree to disagree without things turning ugly.”

Her daughter nodded gravely. “Grandmama always says we should feel bad for people who can’t see the beauty in life. People don’t always like her paintings either, remember? Maybe you should talk to Grandmama about this.”

While no one had shown Greta Brigitte’s more controversial paintings, they’d explained that people didn’t always like them because they included people without clothes on. In a million years, Sophie had never thought the same things would be said of her own work. Certainly not her character. “We’ve talked a little already, but you’re right. I will.”

She was understanding her mother on a whole new level, and it saddened her that it had taken something so awful to bring it about. But you truly couldn’t understand what someone had gone through unless you walked in their shoes.

Sophie wanted to rip off these particular shoes and hurl them into the sea.

“I love you, Greta.” She brought her in for a hug, trying not to hold her too fiercely. “I’ll miss you, but we’re going to FaceTime every day, so it’s not like we’re going to miss each other too much. Plus, Eoghan and Sandrine are going to be great company, aren’t they?”

“We always have fun,” Greta said, fingering the flower necklace Sophie had made for her. “Eoghan is so funny. But I’ll miss you. Not just because you’re my mama, but because I like you. Not every kid likes their mother. Did you know that? There are girls in school who don’t like their mothers one bit.”

She used to be a girl like that. Then she’d carried that feeling into adulthood. Of course, Brigitte wasn’t an easy woman—never would be—but maybe it was time for Sophie to change her point of view and let the past go. “Well, I’m glad you like me. I like you too. Now, I’ll bet everyone is freezing in the front yard, so we should get you going. Do you have everything?”

“Yep!” She held out January and then picked up her purple backpack. “We didn’t have to pack much because I still have some clothes in Provence. Mama, I’m glad you’re staying with Jamie. He makes you happy.”

Her heart tore. Last night, she’d felt like she’d achieved the kind of heaven on earth she’d only dreamed about. She desperately wanted to get that feeling back, but the shadow of the vandalism and its ugliness loomed large. “I make him happy too. You might even say he’s my boyfriend.”

“Of course he is, Mama. You go on dates with him.”

Her ever-practical daughter. “I’m glad you’re okay with him being in our lives.”

Greta’s brown eyes sparkled. “I’ll tell you a secret, Mama. I like him too.”

She rose, giving in to the urge to pick Greta up and hug her yet again as she carried her outside into the cold morning. “Oh, I’m going to miss you bunches.”

Her daughter squeezed her with all her might and then pressed away. Sophie let her down and watched as she walked over to Jamie. He knelt on one knee, doing his best to smile. She leaned in and said something in his ear. He nodded, and then she kissed his cheek before running toward Eoghan and Sandrine.

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