Page 73 of One Summer in Paris

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“Because you put the responsibility squarely on him.”

“Who else?” Audrey shrugged. “Whatever happened to adventure? Traveling? You never wanted to do any of that stuff?”

“I wanted stability.” Grace paused. “I had a slightly chaotic upbringing. I wanted Sophie to have a stable childhood. It’s the reason I became a teacher, because it was a job that matched her hours and gave me the time off I needed.”

“I get that.” She’d wanted stability, too, but now she wasn’t even sure she’d recognize it if she saw it. “I bet you’re a great mum. You’re the kind of mum who would book a mother-daughter spa day on her birthday. If she was struggling at school, you’d get her a fucking tutor.”

Grace’s brows rose. “If you’re going to swear, could you at least do it in a quieter v

oice? The people at the table next to us are frowning.”

“Well, they should be minding their own business, not listening to us.”

“They can’t help hearing—your voice carries.”

“You don’t ever swear?”

“I try to find other ways to express myself.”

Audrey grinned. “So when you trap your finger in the door or drop a bottle of red wine on a white carpet, what do you say?”

“I try not to lose control, but if it’s something really frustrating I might say darn.”

“Darn? Darn?” Audrey snorted with laughter. “What about when you’ve had a drink? Do you swear then?”

“I don’t drink.”

Audrey stopped laughing. “What, never?”

“No.”

“So you don’t swear, you don’t drink, you don’t smoke, I’m assuming you don’t do drugs, so what do you do when you want a wild night out?”

“David and I usually went to dinner. Or sometimes we barbecued with friends. I don’t suppose it really counts as wild, but—” Grace pushed her plate away. “My life must sound very boring to you. Talking about it now, it sounds boring to me, too. But I’m a lot older than you, of course.”

“What does age have to do with it? Age doesn’t stop you having fun.”

“You sound exactly like Mimi.”

“She’s your grandmother, right? And does she say darn when she traps her finger in a door?”

“No. Her language is much more colorful. But she often says it in French.”

“So you go to dinner and you barbecue. No offense, but you’re not blowing me away here, Grace.”

“You’re right. Maybe David wasn’t crazy. Our lives had become too predictable. Apart from the vacations I booked for our anniversary every year, we didn’t do much that was different. That was probably my fault.” She looked troubled, as if she was realizing something for the first time.

Audrey leaned forward. She didn’t know much about relationships, but she knew a lot about handling people who were upset. “There were two of you. How is it your fault?”

“I’m quite rigid in my approach to life. I’m a little inflexible.” Grace said it softly, and Audrey looked at her in disbelief.

“Are you kidding? You hang off the Eiffel Tower when you’re teaching me French. You act out words. Believe me, you are the most flexible, least boring teacher I’ve ever had.”

“Teaching is different. It’s about responding to what the person needs. Another student might do better with books and more conventional study, but I didn’t think that would hold your attention.”

“Exactly. See? Flexible. If you can do it in one part of your life, you can do it in others.” Audrey tapped her fingers on the table. “Maybe it’s your view of yourself that’s inflexible. You’re not seeing what I’m seeing.”

“I like order.”


Tags: Sarah Morgan Romance