I laid there, focusing on the hideous game. Glad that it wasn’t either of our teams playing that crappy. Before the second period had started, Monique presented me with a steaming bowl of soup. It smelled delicious.
“Sit up, sit up, this will help the body. And the soul.” Her eyes were kind, yet all-knowing.
“Thank you, Monique. You didn’t have to do this.” I sat up as she’d requested and took the bowl from her. It looked like dumpling soup. Carrots, onions, and celery, floated in the thick broth. The dumplings were smaller than the ones my mom made.
“My mom always made this when I was sick and home from school,” I said as I blew on the scalding hot liquid on my spoon.
Monique sat on the couch beside me. “I have a feeling your mother and I have more than just soup in common. I cannot wait to meet her.”
I exhaled loudly and set my spoon down. “Monique—” I began to say, thinking of exactly how to word my sentence.
Her hand touched my leg and squeezed. “My dear, this too shall pass.” It felt like her eyes could peer into my soul and fix it. “Now eat. No more talking. We’ll watch this shitshow of a game while you eat.”
Monique’s word use made me laugh.
She smiled over at me, nodding toward my bowl.
So, again, I did what I was told and ate her delicious soup.
When I set the empty bowl on the coffee table, she started to speak, “Sienna is a—how do you say—cow? Oui?”
My eyes opened wide, but I didn’t answer.
“Geneviève, this is between you and me. Come now, you know what I mean. I only spent an hour in her company, but even I could tell what kind of woman she is.”
“I don’t know her at all, Monique. I really can’t say.”
She looked at me with a skeptical, mom-gaze. “I think you can, but don’t want to offend anyone.” All I did in response was shrug. I wasn’t going to get into this with Monique. If Beau ended up marrying Sienna, I would be forever known as the bitter, ex-girlfriend who’d called his wife a cow.
“I met my grandsons for the first time today.” The smile on her face was one of pride and joy.
I nodded and said, “They’re very sweet, well-mannered children. And they look exactly like their father.”
“That they do. Although, I don’t think they are quite as whiny as he was.”
A quiet laugh sprang out of me as I imagined Beau being a whiny, little boy.
“Do not laugh! It is true. Ask his sister and brother. Beau was terribly whiny for a long time. Cried at the drop of a hat, too.” Her head shook from side to side while she settled into the corner of the couch and gazed at me.
I couldn’t help laughing again, this time louder.
“I’m not kidding, Geneviève. At times, he was so annoying, only a mother could love a child like that. Eventually, he grew out of it—to some degree. However, he traded some annoying habits for—others.”
“Monique, Beau and I aren’t together anymore. I don’t know what he’s told you, but it’s better this way. He’s got the boys and—Sienna, now. I’m sad it didn’t work out between us. We’re just too different,” I said, feeling like I carried the weight of the world on my back.
Monique laughed for a moment, then said, “Geneviève, if you and Beau were any more similar, it would be frightening. I’m not one to push into other people’s relationships. You two will find your way back to one another when the time is right.”
I tried to swallow, but I couldn’t.
“I’ve never seen such strong love between two people. I love all of my children the same. I love and adore my daughter-in-law and my son-in-law.” Her eyes held mine as she paused for a moment. “None of them have the same kind of passion you and Beau have.”
“Monique, I think you’ve—”
“A mother knows these things. Perhaps with more clarity than her children.” She spotted the guitar on the wall and smiled. “Has Beau played that for you?”
My stomach fell. “Yes.”
Her smile grew. She patted my arm and sighed as she stood up. “Oh, my dear. You have so much in common. This makes a mother’s heart happy.” I watched while she moved to where she’d set her oversized purse. When she pulled out a familiar shopping bag, I nearly started crying again.