I took the TGV and arrived in Lyon at noon. My mom picked me up from the station.
"Are you wearing this to the baptism?" That's what my mom first said when I got into her Mini Cooper car.
"Hello Mother." I kissed her on her cheeks. I had to be the mature and civilized one here,
"The whole family will be there. You work in the AP Group, didn't you have employee discount to buy a proper dress?"
"What's wrong with my dress?" I was wearing a navy blue chiffon midi dress. It was good enough to go to any after party.
"It is a Christening, not a funeral. Bring some colour with you," my mom said.
Just a different taste for clothes. That's nothing wrong with me, I had to keep reminding myself.
"Mother, all my clothes are black, navy blue, grey or white. I live in Paris, the Parisian doesn't wear flashy colourful clothes."
"Yes, and that's why they all have depression." Mom was from Lyon, she despised the haughty Parisian snobs. Despised the Parisian called the rest of France, including her, Provincial people. All the books which praised the French for their superiority on fashion, body fitness, lifestyle, food, arts and culture or even parenting skills are actually praising the Parisian. There are two types of people in France: the Parisian, and the rest of French. The rest of the French people can be fat, uncultured and unsophisticated people who eat Quick (the French version of McDonald's) and watch Keeping up with the Kardashians duped in French. They might never read Voltaire or Molière, and have never visited Louvre. They certainly do not wear Haute Couture to parties.
"About the baptism, your cousin Marie and the husband who live in San Francisco. They hired a surrogate mother to give birth to a son."
"What?"
"You heard me. They have the money, they can afford it. Her American husband is a top executive in the Silicon Valley. Marie said she was too busy with her career. She didn't want to go through the pregnancy herself either, it will ruin her body. So they decided to pay a surrogate mother to do it."
"Why did they even bother having a baby, if they are so busy?"
"A nanny will take care of the baby anyway."
"Exactly. She did not want to bother with the pregnancy, nor the feeding or the diapers. Why did she want to have a baby in the first place? She obviously did not want to be a mom. She has no time for the baby either. Why did she bring this human being into this world? She is not even qualified to be a pet owner."
"None of my business. Anyway, if you want to have a baby one day, maybe you should consider hiring a surrogate too. Pregnancy will ruin your body and you will regret it. But of course, firstly, you need to be with someone like her top executive husband to pay for it. Maybe you should dye your hair blond to try your luck. Men always prefer blond."
"My hair is fine. Is that why you abandoned me, because you think I ruined your body and your life?" I raised my voice.
"It was just a wise advice. Don't take it personal. It is two different matter."
"How is it different? You and the cousin are just two selfish women who ran away from the responsibilities of being a mother. She hired people to do the job, all she provided was an egg and some money. You! You simply took the plane and ran back to France to escape from me."
She did not say anything to me for the whole afternoon. Good. At least I did not need to hear her unwelcome advices or criticism to make me feel shitty about myself.
I congratulated the cousin I barely knew for buying the baby. The American husband was apparently relieved to find a North American comrade in the Christening. He complained that French people cannot speak English. I replied that the American cannot speak French either. They asked me if I knew whatever the name was, it was their friend who worked in AP Group. I said no, they were disappointed.
"Maybe I should introduce you two, since you work in the same company? You are single and he is single too, maybe you two can have a drink. It doesn't hurt to meet a new friend. Who knows? Maybe next year it will be us who attend your wedding. And you will thank me for playing the Cupid," Cousin Virgin Marie laughed.
"I am with someone at the moment."
"Oh, sorry. Your mom said you are single, so...."
"My mom doesn't know me since I was 5."
Awkward silence. Perhaps I had said too much now. "Congratulations to you too, anyway. I have to leave now." I turned away.
Delphine Pelletier, a 27 years old woman, apparently was considered as a desperate singleton who needed a set up for a blind date in a cousin's baby Christening.
After the christening I called Louis, "Can we meet today instead? I cannot stay here for 1 more hour or I will go mad."
"Sure, wait for me at the Lyon-Bron Airport. I will call you when I arrived. I should arrive within two hours."
"Perfect. Thanks."
"No problem."
I said goodbye to the hosts. I went to my mom to make excuse that I had to go. She said nothing. I truly thought that she did not care if I disappeared without saying goodbye.
I had at least one hours to kill. So I took the metro and went to have a stroll in downtown Lyon. I always liked this city. It was quieter, there were less people on the streets, people are friendlier. The buildings were more colourful.
I stopped in Place Bellecour, I could see the Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière on top of the Fourvière Hill. I still could not believe Notre-Dame de Paris was burned down five days ago. It had stood in Paris since the 13th century and was gone now. It survived the revolution, but not the renovation.
Nothing can last forever. A spark of fire can destroy everything you constructed for centuries.
I sat under the the statue of Le Petit Prince and Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, who was a Lyonnais himself.
'On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.'
We see well only with the heart. The essential is invisible to the eyes.
What did my heart see? What did my heart want?
～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～
We were bathing in the heated infinity pool of the villa in Cap Ferrat, drinking a glass of Champagne and enjoying the view of the spectacular sea view and the sunset. There were all these billionaires' luxurious yachts floating on the blue sea. It was not even the summer yet.
Life was good in the French Riviera. No wonder all the billionaires and aristocrats rushed here to buy a villa and have parties. I would love to wake up every morning to this infinite azure and enjoy 330 days of sunlight per year, but then I would never be able to make enough money to pay for this villa if I stay here everyday. In fact, I probably had to work for 600 years to buy this villa, so I opted to work 45 years instead and lived in my little studio in Paris.
"To conclude, my mom criticized that I dressed like going to a funeral, advising me to find a rich husband so I could hire a surrogate mother to have a baby, and my cousin wanted to set me up a blind date with another employee in the AP Group. I guess my maternal family was specialized in dating and fertility counselling," I announced.
"You haven't been to mine," he laughed, "It was even more entertaining."
"How so?"
"For starter, my dad's girlfriend is five years younger than me. Even the woman and I have generation gaps, I don't know how do they talk to each other. They will get married this summer and I hope I don't have to call her mom. My cousin got caught sniffing a line of cocaine on the roof of a car in front of a Parisian nightclub. He was in all the newspapers and magazines. My mom got sued by an ex-boyfriend for whatever money issues. So mine won the best comedy award."
"More like best lawyer drama, they all need to hire some good lawyers to defend themselves."
"Yeah, we definitely spend shitload of money on paying the lawyers to clean up our mess. We can't choose our family. So just let it go. There is nothing you can do to change them."
His phone rang, he saw the caller ID and said, "Sorry, I have to take this call." He got out of the pool and put on a bathrobe. Then he took the phone and went indoor.
I was sipping the champagne and staring out the sea. He was right. I couldn't do anything to change them, I should not be bothered by people I see once a year. I could not let my mother's words hurt me. It should be her who felt guilty of abandoning me. No matter what I did, I could not please her. I was never good enough for her. When I first arrived in France, I thought it would be an opportunity to reconnect with her, to form a kind of mother-daughter relationship. I chose to study in France to be closer to her. I was curious about her, I wanted to know her more. I imagined we would do shopping together, or she would share her grandmother's recipes to cook a meal together. I was wrong, so wrong. She had no intention to be my mother when I was 5, she would not do it now too. She would never love me the way I imagined a mother would love her daughter.
Louis returned. He kneeled behind me and messaged my shoulder.
"How about we go out for dinner now. I have booked a table for 8 pm. Come on, get dressed."
When we arrived at an Italian restaurant, the hostess led us towards a table, where Vanessa was sitting with a man.
I looked at Louis in disbelief, "Why?"
"Vanessa was in the neighbourhood, I suggested that we can meet for dinner to make a proper introduction," he shrugged.
You should have told me before you bastard. You did not know the dress code for meeting the ex of your date? Tonight I dressed causally in a white linen dress with embroidery. I was out of a swimming pool, I did not even wear my lipstick. Oh dear god I hoped that she was short-sighted and she forgot her contact lens (not likely).
They stood up when we arrived at the table. Vanessa kissed Louis on the cheeks and hugged him tightly.
"Good to see you again, Delphine," she smiled.
"Hello, I am Julien, Vanessa's fiancé," the man shook my hand.
"Nice to me you, I am Delphine."
We order pizza and pasta to share. We made small talks. Vanessa talked about her ski trip in Courchevel in the Alps. They laughed about some private jokes of their last ski trip a year ago with Louis. I was like the stranger who was put on the table of friends because the restaurant was full.
"I heard that you are from Montréal. Lovely city, great people. I guess ski is also the popular sport in Québec too, you guys will never run out of snow in winter," Julien laughed.
"We can ski every weekend if we want, the closest ski station is just 40 minutes from Montréal. Of course it is like a mini ski station compared to the Alps, but we can live with that," I said.
"I went to Montreal for business last year and tried the famous poutines, oh god that was awful. It was so heavy that I was sick for the whole day. Canadian food is something I will never appreciate," Julien made a disgusting face.
"I guess it is like the cheese fondue, some people love it, some people just find it too heavy to digest."
"How long have you lived in Paris?" Vanessa asked.
"8 years. I went to university here, then I decided to stay a little bit more, time flies and 8 years have passed," I answered.
"I think I have seen you before, but I don't remember where," Vanessa said to me.
"Probably in one of the fashion shows. I used to work for shows," I smiled. I did not remember meeting her before.
"That was where we met too. We met in the backstage emergency exit and shared an interesting conversation together," Louis smiled.
"Was it interesting? I honestly don't remember. Well, would you excuse me," I stood up and went to look for the bathroom.
As I went out of the toilet, Vanessa was standing in front of the mirror, putting back some makeup.
I put on a faint smile.
"I am glad I finally met you tonight. You are just as ordinary as the other girls he dated. I am honestly disappointed," she said it coldly.
"Oh, did you imagine that I had five arms and three eyes with a horn on my forehead?"
"Haha, you can make jokes now, wait until he breaks your heart. You think you are special and will be the love of his life? I see women come and go around him, nobody can capture his heart for more than 100 days. He will dispose you like a used condom once he had enough fun."
"What made you think that I won't dispose him like a used tampon once I am done with him? Women can have fun too. We don't necessarily hunt for a husband every time we meet a man."
"Well, I just wanted to give you a friendly advice. I had been there, he shattered my heart."
"Thanks. I think I have listened to enough bullshit advice this weekend." I turned my back and walked away. I was sick of unsolicited comments. Stop giving advice, people! We did not ask for any, nobody cared about your opinions.
I kept minimum effort in engaging in their conversation. When we were in the car on the way back to the villa, Louis asked, "What's wrong? You had been very quiet tonight. What are you thinking in your little head right now?"
"I am thinking how to kill you in your villa, and which episode of How to get away from murder can help me out from going to prison."
He raised his eye brow and said, "Interesting. What did I do to deserve death tonight?"
"You really have no idea how the women's world function? How dare you took me by surprise to meet your ex tonight! I did not even have my makeup on. I lost the female pissing contest. You know what she said to me in the Lady's Room? She said she was disappointed that you are with someone so ordinary."
"You look really great like this, I like it. I am not into those heavy makeup women. I sometimes can't recognize the woman I dated when she was makeup-free, I think they are frauds," he put his hand on the thigh and gently caressed it with his index finger. The tickling sensation made my legs felt weak immediately, and I longed for more of his touch. The muscle of my stomach tightened. I wish the car could arrive quicker. Wait, don't let his touch distract you.
"How about I take you to meet my last boyfriend for dinner, you will be surprised too. Perhaps you will see how I felt tonight."
"I honestly would love to meet him. I am curious about this man, who was stupid enough to let you go. And I will show him how much did he miss in his life now," he smirked.
"You don't need to, I left him. But that is not the point. I don't expect to be your The One, that we will get married and have children and live happily ever after. I am not interested in marriage and I am totally fine to be single. I am not an innocent virgin who believed in fairytales, so I don't need your entourage to remind me that I am not good enough for you, or you are out of my league."
"I am sorry, they can be cruel to the others sometimes. I apologized for them."
"And you! You broke your promise. When I agreed to spend a weekend with you, you promised me that it would be just the two of us. I would not have to meet any unpleasant people. And tonight, I think I have met the most unpleasant person of your entourage."
"Right. My apology. I thought you would want to meet her, in a formal introduction. You were obviously upset about last time when we were in the bar. She called me for dinner, so I just thought it was a good occasion."
"You'd better tell me beforehand next time of who I will meet, or I will just turn and walk away. I am not your escort girl, I have the right to choose who I want to meet or not when I am with you."
"I will keep that in mind."
He opened the door of the villa with his fingerprints, I turned my back to close the door behind me. I could feel his breath behind my ears as he hugged me from behind.
"You have no idea how much I waited for this moment tonight," he whispered as his kissed me on the neck and my shoulder.
I turned around and kissed him back on his lips. He pressed himself closer to me, his hands held my face and kissed me harder. I put my hand on his head to touch his soft blond hair.
"Me too," I confessed.
That was the one and only confession of affection we could make for each other.
We spent the rest of our weekend in bed, kissing, cuddling, making love and sharing small anecdotes of our life before.
"I wish I did not have to go back to Paris today," I said it when we were on the private jet.
"Darling Delphine, we can always go back there," he said it while he was checking his phone for all the messages and emails from work.
I knew at that moment, he was already gone. He no longer belonged to me. He was back to his old self, Louis de Vallois, Creative Director of M.