Perfectly Unpredictable

by Linda O'Connor

  “You look all grown up,” Mack said. He fingered the dangling pendants at her ears. “I like these.”

  “Thank you. I don’t wear them often because they’re not Mani-proof.” She smiled and leaned back as Mani mimicked Mack and reached for them. “Okay,” she said, bracing herself. “I should go.”

  She didn’t move.

  Mack laughed. “They’re probably very nice people. You liked the son,” he pointed out. “Relax and be yourself.”

  “I know,” she said. “But what if I slip up and say something about Mani?”

  “It’s okay for them to know you have a son. They won’t know who the father is. And you can get a feel for them and decide if you want to tell them. Trust your instincts.”

  “Right. Be myself. Relax. Trust my instincts,” she murmured to herself as she grabbed a jacket. “You know,” she said, looking up at Mack, “none of that really helps.”

  Mack laughed and gave her a gentle shove out the door. “Go. We love you.”

  Kalia’s heart melted. “Okay, that helps,” she said, and she quickly leaned in to give them both a kiss. “I won’t be late,” she promised, and she walked out quickly before she could change her mind.

  The drive downtown was quick. When she pulled up to the front door of Bennett Suites on the Water, the bellboy opened her door and helped her out. He handed her a ticket for the valet parking and escorted her inside.

  Wide French doors opened into the warmth of the foyer. An oversized vase with tropical flowers sat on a polished mahogany table. Her feet sank into plush carpet.

  She walked through the lobby to the restaurant off to one side and paused at the entrance. She checked her watch. Seven p.m. On the dot.

  Quiet murmurs and soft soothing music filled the air. A candle flickered at each table, creating an intimate setting in the low light.

  The maître’d walked over and greeted her with a smile. “Welcome to La Fête du Roi. May I take your coat, mademoiselle?”

  “Thank you,” she said as she slipped it off.

  He helped her with it and handed it over to a junior waitress hovering near the door. “Are you joining someone this evening?”

  “Yes, I am. Madame and Monsieur Sinclair.”

  “Ah, yes,” he said, checking his reservation book. “Right this way.”

  He led the way, winding through the restaurant to a table by the window overlooking the river. The lights from the buildings across the river created a shimmering reflection in the water. The simple beauty and the quiet calm helped settle her nerves.

  “Here you are, mademoiselle,” he said and with a little bow, moved away.

  A tall gentleman rose from his chair.

  Kalia extended her hand. “Hello, you must be Alain Sinclair.” The likeness to Alexandre took her breath away. The same startling blue eyes. The same devilish good looks. The hair was peppered with silver, and the laughter lines around his eyes were a little more pronounced, but he was definitely Alexandre’s father.

  He grasped her hand with both of his and leaned over to kiss both of her cheeks. “I am indeed. It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Beck.”

  “Oh, please call me Kalia.” She turned to the woman sitting at his side. Gray-green eyes, with a veil of sadness, watched her curiously. “Docteur Tabeau-Sinclair, I’m honored to meet you.”

  “Fiona, please.” The woman rose and, with two hands grasping Kalia’s gently, kissed Kalia’s cheeks.

  “Have a seat,” Alain invited as he held the chair for each woman and waited until they sat.

  “I hope I’m not late,” Kalia said as she adjusted her purse on her lap.

  “No, not at all. We arrived a bit early to enjoy an aperitif and this magnificent view.”

  “The lights on the river are beautiful tonight. Did you have a good trip from Lancaster?” Kalia asked.

  “We did. We took the train. It was very comfortable and convenient.”

  “Not as efficient as the trains in Europe,” Kalia said with a smile.

  “No, that is true,” Alain agreed with a smile. “Service back home occurs with much greater frequency and greater ridership, but it was pleasant.”

  The waiter filled their water glasses. When he left, Fiona turned to Kalia. “Have you visited Europe, Kalia?”

  “Yes, several times. My parents have family in France and Germany, so we’ve spent many summer vacations there. I met Alexandre at a conference in Nice.” She glanced from Alain to Fiona. “I wanted to offer my condolences to you. I am so very sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” Fiona said quietly, looking down briefly. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she looked again at Kalia. “It has been quite difficult. His illness was brief and devastating. With all the advances of modern medicine, you expect that all will be well and that doctors will be able to pull a cure out of their hat. But alas, it was not to be. And so I grieve.”

  “I didn’t know that he was ill,” Kalia admitted. “At the conference, he was brilliant. I think everyone, all eight hundred participants, showed up to attend his keynote address. He was animated and passionate. You could see he really loved his work.”

  “Thank you, Kalia,” Fiona said. “It means a lot to me, to us,” she corrected, glancing at her husband, “to hear the stories about his life and how he touched people. I’m sure Alain has mentioned that when Alexandre took a turn for the worse, when he was offered palliative care, which was a most difficult time, he requested a favor of his father and me. He asked that we deliver a gift to each of his four close friends. Of course we agreed, thinking that we would be doing this for him and in his memory.

  “But interestingly enough, now I wonder if he didn’t do this for us. It’s been such a blessing to meet again with his friends. They’ve shared their stories of him, in a way that during the funeral and wake wasn’t possible. Those days were a blur, but meeting with you and his close friends has given us a chance to share in the memories.

  “Alexandre was clever and very considerate of us. I think he saw that I, or we, perhaps,” as she smiled at her husband, “would need the solace that this contact has given us. So we appreciate you meeting with us in this way. It must have come out of the blue.” She laughed softly. “We are very happy we could meet you.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Fiona. It means a lot to me that Alexandre would think of me.”

  “Yes, we were very curious.” Fiona’s eyes twinkled. “But now that we’ve met, I can see how he would be enraptured.”

  “Thank you,” Kalia said with a smile.

  The waiter appeared to take their order.

  “Do you need more time to decide?” Alain asked Kalia. “We’re ordering the table d’hôte.”

  “That sounds wonderful. I’ll have the same,” Kalia said.

  “Perfect,” the waiter responded. He collected their menus and silently moved away.

  “You mentioned you met Alexandre at the conference. Are you in the neuroscientific field as well?” Alain asked.

  “No, I was at the conference as an interpreter. I translated some of the presentations,” Kalia explained.

  “How interesting!” Fiona exclaimed. “What languages do you speak?”

  “Growing up, my parents spoke English, French, and German to me, and then I studied Spanish, Russian, and Mandarin at school.”

  “That’s very impressive. Medical translation?”

  “It varies. I’ve done legal translation, some contract and manuscript work. I love the variety.”

  “Is it hard to keep your skills up with all of those languages?”

  Kalia laughed. “It is, but I keep busy so that helps. It does influence the jobs I accept. And I can always practice French and German with my parents. They enjoy that.”

  “That’s lovely. We spoke English and French at home so Alexandre would be comfortable with both. Of course, he went on to do his schooling in English. That made a difference to his fluency, too.”

  “He didn’t need any translation at the conference. Hi
s English was flawless.”

  Alain and Fiona smiled.

  The waiter arrived and served a cold cucumber soup garnished with a sprig of thyme. They ate their way leisurely through the main meal, and the waiter cleared their plates and offered coffee with dessert.

  “Do you have espresso?” Alain asked.

  “Yes, monsieur,” the waiter said.

  “Fiona?”

  “Yes, I’ll have one too, please.”

  “I’ll be awake all night if I enjoy one this late,” Kalia said ruefully as she shook her head at the waiter’s enquiring glance. He gave a slight bow and moved away.

  “We have become immune,” Alain said with a laugh. “In our line of work, we drink coffee like others drink water.”

  Kalia smiled. “What type of work do you do?”

  “We are both physicians,” Alain explained, grasping Fiona’s hand and holding it.

  Kalia wondered if being in the medical field would’ve made it more difficult when Alexandre was ill. The feeling of helplessness would have been awful. “Did Alexandre follow your footsteps in the neurosciences?”

  “No, he didn’t,” Alain replied with a smile. “I’m a general surgeon, and Fiona is a dermatologist, a skin specialist.”

  “Wow. No wonder Alexandre was brilliant. It’s in the genes. You must have a busy household.”

  Alain and Fiona laughed. “We have had, for sure. But we’ve slowed down now. We took time off to be with Alexandre and haven’t returned to full-time hours,” Alain said. They glanced at each other.

  “And probably won’t,” Fiona added. “I find I don’t have the energy for it. Maybe that will change with time, but for now, part-time suits me. And my practice can accommodate this, so I will take advantage of it. Alain has a little bit less flexibility, so it is not as easy for him …” She trailed off, looking at him.

  “Yes, it’s true to some extent. But any time off I’ve requested, I’ve been granted. It’s worked out.” He shrugged.

  The waiter put steaming espressos in delicate glass cups in front of Alain and Fiona.

  When the waiter moved away, Alain cleared his throat. “Kalia, as we mentioned, there is a gift that Alexandre asked us to deliver to you.” He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a small package delicately wrapped in silver tissue paper. He held it out to Kalia.

  Kalia took it gently and set it on the table. She blinked back tears, surprised at the sweep of emotion as she looked into Alain’s serious eyes.

  Fiona gently covered her hand. “Would you like to open it?”

  No, she really wouldn’t, Kalia thought sadly. Not here. She was afraid of showing them how emotional she was.

  But maybe that’s what it was all about, she thought. Sharing these feelings. Being with people who also loved Alexandre.

  She nodded without speaking and slowly unwrapped the tissue. She stared at the small oval box. “It’s so pretty,” she whispered, as she looked at the pale blue textured top with silver threads, sparkling around a glass pink bow.

  Fiona smiled sadly and stroked Kalia’s back in comfort at the emotion in her voice. “Open it,” she urged.

  Kalia opened the box slowly and caught her breath at the ring nestled inside a fold of pale blue velvet. Light glimmered off a swirl of sapphires and diamonds on a delicate silver band. “He wanted me to have this?” she asked, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “He did.” Fiona smiled softly, her eyes filling. “This ring was passed down to me from my mother and from her mama before her. I gave the ring to Alexandre as a gift on his twenty-fifth birthday in the hopes that, when he found love, he could pass this on to his bride.” She paused to dab at tears on her cheeks. “He loved you, Kalia.”

  “I loved him, too,” Kalia whispered, and she wiped away tears. She felt Fiona’s arms around her.

  “He also wanted you to have this,” Alain said as he handed her a letter. “You don’t have to open that now if you’d rather wait.”

  Kalia took the letter and, taking deep breaths, lifted watery eyes to look at them. They looked back with concern, and she knew she would tell them about Mani.

  “We didn’t mean to make you sad,” Fiona said with a worried frown.

  “No, no, please don’t worry. I’m very touched. I don’t think I should accept this. It’s a family heirloom. It must be precious to you.”

  “It is, but it was Alexandre’s to give, and he wanted you to have it. Our gift is meeting you. It means very much to me that Alexandre found someone to love. Even if it was only briefly, I can see that you and he shared something special. And knowing that he loved you, and you him, is more precious to me. So please, accept it, and be reminded of that love when you wear it.”

  “Thank you. I’ll treasure it always.” Kalia dried her eyes. “Alexandre was lucky to have you as parents.”

  Alain and Fiona laughed. “Well, there were lots of ups and downs, raising him.” Fiona glanced at Alain with a secret smile. “And some things we would do differently, but we are–” she sighed “–were very proud of him.”

  Kalia wondered how to bring up Mani, but decided that showing them would be better. “I’ve really enjoyed this evening. It has been a pleasure meeting you. I would like to share something with you,” she said, butterflies in her stomach. “If you’re free, would you like to join me for lunch tomorrow?”

  Alain and Fiona looked at each other.

  “That would be lovely,” Fiona said. “We are here for another day and have plans tomorrow evening, but are free for the day.”

  “Perfect. Here is my address,” Kalia said as she wrote it down. “It’s late now, and unfortunately, I should get going. Thank you very much for dinner and for the lovely evening. I’ll cherish this,” she said, putting the ring gently back in the box. “And I’ll look forward to seeing you again tomorrow.”

  Alain and Fiona rose as Kalia stood and each in turn kissed her cheeks good-bye.

  “Thank you, Kalia,” Alain said. “Until tomorrow.”

  Chapter 25

  The drive home was a blur. Kalia was exhausted. The emotional roller coaster was taking a toll. Grieving was such an unusual process. Just when she thought she was past the worst of it, something happened to spin her back to where she had been when Alexandre first passed away. The guilt had eased, but the sadness was pervasive. Maybe that was the normal course. Maybe the pain would ebb and flow like water moving in the tide until, like for those living near the sea, it became part of the fabric of everyday life. You were aware of it, you worked around it and you worked with it, but it was always there.

  Butterflies in her stomach beat a nervous tattoo at the thought of telling Alexandre’s parents about Mani. Was it the right thing to do? They were grieving, especially Fiona. Or maybe a mother’s grief was just more apparent. But regardless, if Fiona could part with something precious, something that had to have a great deal of sentimental value, because Alexandre had asked, her love must be very deep. Perhaps seeing Mani, knowing that Alexandre’s legacy would live on, would give Fiona peace.

  What if it had the opposite effect, and instead of bringing solace, it created more turmoil for them? What if it added to their grief? Her heart skipped a beat.

  No, she didn’t believe that. They would want to know they had a grandson. She sighed. Hopefully. She’d find out tomorrow.

  She drove into the garage and shut off the engine. Leaning her head back against the seat, she sat.

  She pulled the letter from her purse and looked at it. Mack was waiting inside, but she needed a moment for this.

  Kalia was written in Alexandre’s handwriting on the outside of the envelope. Kalia stroked the front of it and turned it over in her hands, running her finger along the sealed edge. She turned it over again and looked at it, trying to steady herself.

  She slipped her finger under the corner and slowly tore it open.

  She unfolded the piece of paper and read.

  Kalia,

  I don’t know when this le
tter will find you, but I want you to know how much you mean to me.

  You are the light and the hope I carry with me throughout my treatment. Words can’t express how much it means to me.

  I wondered if telling you the diagnosis would have been a better choice, but at the time, I thought it an unnecessary burden.

  Our time together was too short and for this I’m very sorry. I didn’t want to say good-bye.

  I would like for you to have this ring. As you wear it, know that you are loved.

  You mean so very much to me. Please be happy that you made a difference in my life.

  Yours,

  A.

  P.S. My hope is that my parents deliver this to you. My wish is that you meet.

  Kalia barely read the post-script as tears blurred her vision. Her breath hitched, and she closed her eyes. He’d loved her. Oh Alex. She wished he’d told her, that she’d known he’d been ill.

  Please be happy, he’d written. She took a deep breath. She could try. She could work at it. She thought of Mack. That would be part of it. She was lucky he was there for her while she grieved for Alexandre.

  “Kalia?”

  Kalia jumped and looked up.

  Mack’s concerned face looked back. “Are you all right? I heard the car pull in.”

  “I’m fine.” She gathered her purse and the gift and opened the door to join him. “I just needed a moment.”

  “Rough evening?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and guiding her inside.

  “Emotional,” she said, leaning into him.

  They walked inside, and Mack took Kalia’s coat and threw it on the hook by the door.

  “Would you like tea?” Mack asked.

  “No, not really,” Kalia said as she toed off her shoes. “How was Mani? Did everything go okay?”

  “He was great. Went to bed without a problem.” Mack gathered her close. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Fiona and Alain are wonderful. Alexandre asked them to deliver gifts to four of his close friends. They said it’s been a lovely journey for them to reconnect with his friends and share the memories. He left me a ring. It’s beautiful, Mack. And he wrote me a letter. He loved me,” she said, her voice breaking. “He loved me,” she repeated, her voice a little stronger.