confession.
She halted in front of Philip, flicking her hair back. “Hello, Philip. I heard you were in town. I’m sorry you had to witness that.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
“Nice to see you, Élisabeth. Your right hook is in good form.”
She gave a wry smile. “You’ll excuse me for not staying to chat right now. I’m afraid I’m rather upset.”
“I understand. Or, at least, I’m beginning to.”
With a final dark look at Roger, she turned and marched away, her heels tapping sharply on the sidewalk.
Philip turned to his brother-in-law and folded his arms over his chest as he waited for an explanation.
Roger pressed his fingertips to his cheek and flinched. “She bruised more than my arrogance.”
“Care to tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s complicated,” he said. “Let’s just say that I probably had it coming.”
The restaurant was full of dark wood, mirrors, and ladder-back chairs. Roger had settled in on the other side of the linen-draped table. A huddle of glasses waited at each setting, along with more silverware than Philip knew what to do with.
He leaned across the table. “So what’s going on with you two? Are you divorced or not?”
“Oh, you know. Pretty much.”
“You can’t be pretty much divorced. It’s one or the other. And I take it Joëlle isn’t the first one Élisabeth has caught you with.” Roger was deep into the wine list, scrutinizing it like a gambler with a racing form. Finally he waved the waiter over and placed his bet.
“That’s another thing,” Philip started. “You were plastered last night.”
“What can I tell you? I like to have a good time. That shouldn’t come as news to anyone.”
“When a man can hardly stand up straight, it’s beyond enjoyment.”
“Might I remind you that if I had difficulty remaining vertical, it was because my brother-in-law knocked me to the ground?”
Philip leaned back. “What’s going on with you?”
Roger gave him a hard look. “It’s really none of your business.”
The wine arrived and Roger went through the ritual of tasting. This sacrament complete, the sommelier began to pour. Too late Philip realized the first glass was his own, and he gestured for the server to stop.
“You can’t refuse that,” Roger said. “It’s a Volnay.”
“Thank you, but no.”
Roger eyed him darkly until the sommelier retreated, then leaned forward. “Is this a new bad habit of yours, not drinking?”
Under his beard, Philip felt his cheeks redden. “For nearly five years now.”
“You used to enjoy a good glass.”
“A bit too much. I finally took control. You might consider that yourself.”
Roger rolled his eyes. “Good grief. What did you do? Go to meetings? Hello, my name is Philip, and I’m an alcoholic? ”
He gritted his teeth. “Yes. Something like that.”
Roger sighed. “Hmm. That explains a few things. Well, let the unhappiness of the one cheer the other.” He emptied Philip’s glass into his own before sipping off a mouthful of the ruby liquid. He savored it with exaggerated pleasure.
At moments like this Philip understood why the Aubert siblings found Roger so exasperating. Histrionic personalities could be charming—as long as you didn’t mind the self-centeredness, the theatricality, the immaturity. Still, Philip partly envied him. Roger was willing to question assumptions and buck the trends. Even now, nearing fifty, he could still wriggle into the costume of the maverick.
“So,” Roger began. “Does Yvonne know you’re back in town? Or rather, that you failed to leave?”
“Not yet.”
“You can’t keep it a secret, you know. Not around here.”
“I’m afraid she’s going to ask me what I’m doing, and I haven’t figured out the answer to that question.” He gave Roger a knowing look. “One thing I’ve learned is to be prepared before speaking to Yvonne. Your sister isn’t always the easiest woman to deal with.”
“Doesn’t come as news to me. Still, try not
She halted in front of Philip, flicking her hair back. “Hello, Philip. I heard you were in town. I’m sorry you had to witness that.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
“Nice to see you, Élisabeth. Your right hook is in good form.”
She gave a wry smile. “You’ll excuse me for not staying to chat right now. I’m afraid I’m rather upset.”
“I understand. Or, at least, I’m beginning to.”
With a final dark look at Roger, she turned and marched away, her heels tapping sharply on the sidewalk.
Philip turned to his brother-in-law and folded his arms over his chest as he waited for an explanation.
Roger pressed his fingertips to his cheek and flinched. “She bruised more than my arrogance.”
“Care to tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s complicated,” he said. “Let’s just say that I probably had it coming.”
The restaurant was full of dark wood, mirrors, and ladder-back chairs. Roger had settled in on the other side of the linen-draped table. A huddle of glasses waited at each setting, along with more silverware than Philip knew what to do with.
He leaned across the table. “So what’s going on with you two? Are you divorced or not?”
“Oh, you know. Pretty much.”
“You can’t be pretty much divorced. It’s one or the other. And I take it Joëlle isn’t the first one Élisabeth has caught you with.” Roger was deep into the wine list, scrutinizing it like a gambler with a racing form. Finally he waved the waiter over and placed his bet.
“That’s another thing,” Philip started. “You were plastered last night.”
“What can I tell you? I like to have a good time. That shouldn’t come as news to anyone.”
“When a man can hardly stand up straight, it’s beyond enjoyment.”
“Might I remind you that if I had difficulty remaining vertical, it was because my brother-in-law knocked me to the ground?”
Philip leaned back. “What’s going on with you?”
Roger gave him a hard look. “It’s really none of your business.”
The wine arrived and Roger went through the ritual of tasting. This sacrament complete, the sommelier began to pour. Too late Philip realized the first glass was his own, and he gestured for the server to stop.
“You can’t refuse that,” Roger said. “It’s a Volnay.”
“Thank you, but no.”
Roger eyed him darkly until the sommelier retreated, then leaned forward. “Is this a new bad habit of yours, not drinking?”
Under his beard, Philip felt his cheeks redden. “For nearly five years now.”
“You used to enjoy a good glass.”
“A bit too much. I finally took control. You might consider that yourself.”
Roger rolled his eyes. “Good grief. What did you do? Go to meetings? Hello, my name is Philip, and I’m an alcoholic? ”
He gritted his teeth. “Yes. Something like that.”
Roger sighed. “Hmm. That explains a few things. Well, let the unhappiness of the one cheer the other.” He emptied Philip’s glass into his own before sipping off a mouthful of the ruby liquid. He savored it with exaggerated pleasure.
At moments like this Philip understood why the Aubert siblings found Roger so exasperating. Histrionic personalities could be charming—as long as you didn’t mind the self-centeredness, the theatricality, the immaturity. Still, Philip partly envied him. Roger was willing to question assumptions and buck the trends. Even now, nearing fifty, he could still wriggle into the costume of the maverick.
“So,” Roger began. “Does Yvonne know you’re back in town? Or rather, that you failed to leave?”
“Not yet.”
“You can’t keep it a secret, you know. Not around here.”
“I’m afraid she’s going to ask me what I’m doing, and I haven’t figured out the answer to that question.” He gave Roger a knowing look. “One thing I’ve learned is to be prepared before speaking to Yvonne. Your sister isn’t always the easiest woman to deal with.”
“Doesn’t come as news to me. Still, try not
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