All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

“No. Of course not.” Dominique wanted to point out she’d simply been offering an opinion. She replayed the words and thought perhaps they had sounded critical, although that hadn’t been her intent.

Chantal reluctantly sat in a chair, her arms crossed over her chest.

She looked so much like Dan, Dominique thought. The familiar ache, the pain of missing the only man she’d ever loved, returning to prod her heart. His eyes, his smile. Certainly his build.

He had loved her so much. She had been the center of his universe. And then Chantal had been born and he’d given much of that love to his daughter.

Dominique understood that it was good for a father to love his children, but she’d never understood his total devotion. She’d felt as if she’d lost the only thing that had ever mattered. Because being who she was and having all the accolades had never been as important as Dan’s love.

“Are you all right?” Chantal asked.

“Yes. Of course. I was thinking about your father. He adored you.”

Her daughter gave her a genuine smile. “He was great. I still miss him.”

“I do, as well. He was such a wonderful man.” Dominique put her hands in her lap and glanced around the room. “The windows are very nice.”

“Thank you.”

“You own the house?”

“Yes. I bought it shortly after I moved here.”

“Why Fool’s Gold?”

What she really wanted to ask was “What possessed you to choose this ridiculous little town when you could have lived in New York or Los Angeles” but felt that might sound slightly judgmental. May had told her to be accepting. To try to think about things from her daughter’s point of view.

“I fit here,” Chantal told her. “I’d been living in Portland when I came here on vacation.”

“Maine?”

“Oregon.”

“You lived in Oregon?”

Chantal smiled. “It’s nice there.”

“I doubt I’d like it. Too much rain. The weather is better here.”

“They have seasons.”

That established, they both looked around the room. Dominique was aware of the silence, of the awkwardness. How she didn’t know what to say to her own child.

Chantal drew in a breath. “Mom, are you here for a reason?”

Dominique wasn’t sure if she meant visiting at that moment or in Fool’s Gold in general, but decided it was time to speak the truth.

“I was recently diagnosed with colon cancer.”

Chantal stared at her. “That sounds bad. What do the doctors say? Are you going to be all right?”

The words were correct and there was a hint of concern in her voice, but Dominique was aware that her daughter didn’t move toward her. There was no comforting hug offered. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized a hug was exactly what she needed.

She shook off the weakness and squared her shoulders. “I’m fine. I had surgery and they got it all. But it was extremely unpleasant. Everyone talking about my bowels. A very undignified episode.”

Her daughter’s mouth twitched. “You’re saying it would have been better if it had been a different body part?”

“Of course. But that’s irrelevant. My time in the hospital reminded me of what’s important. That’s why I’m here. To spend time with you. We’re family. We should be close.”

One didn’t need to be Chantal’s mother to read the trapped expression in her blue eyes. “It’s not something we can order off a take-out menu. Neither of us is very good at relationships.”

Dominique wanted to protest. She was very good with people. She’d always handled the press extremely well. But she supposed Chantal meant personal relationships. Emotionally intimate ones.

“Your father was,” she said instead. “Everyone loved being around him.”

“I remember.” Chantal smiled. “Whenever he came to school for a program, all my friends talked about him.”

Dominique wanted to ask if they’d ever talked about her. After all, having a famous mother was certainly more interesting. But she held back the words, unexpectedly understanding this was not a moment about her.

With that insight came the uncomfortable realization that her constant need for attention wasn’t about feeding an ego, but instead filling a void inside. Silencing the cruel voice that whispered she was one false step away from losing it all.

“Want to go get a cup of coffee?” her daughter asked unexpectedly. “Come on, Mother, we’ll walk over to Starbucks. I’m buying.”

“That sounds nice,” Dominique murmured, thinking being outside might help. At least there would be more to talk about.

Five minutes later they were on the sidewalk and walking the few blocks to the center of town. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the day, there were plenty of people out, enjoying the perfect September weather.

Several of the women they passed either waved to Chantal or called out her name. A little girl of maybe six or seven ran over and motioned for Chantal to bend down. The girl whispered in her ear and then ran back to her mother.