Page 82 of My Best French Wedding

“Me?” Hildy was excruciatingly conscious of Walter listening to every word. “Um, yes. My uncle and my cousins. Several of mystep-aunts.” She forced herself not to glance in Walter’s direction, even though her family was far from a neutral topic for the two of them. “They don’t understand me, but they do love me.”

And maybe that was as good as it got for most people. The idea of finding someone you could talk to about anything, who connected with you on the deepest level and adored you anyway, was a dangerous illusion. Hildy had learned that at a young age and lowered her expectations accordingly.

“I know there are people who have much less than I do. Not just in money or houses,” Fiona clarified, lest they think she was out of touch. “Ugh, that’s enough about me. Let’s talk more about you two.” She waved at Walter to sit.

He settled down a little closer to Hildy than seemed warranted. Fiona took this in with avid interest. She probably also noticed Hildy staring at Walter’s calves as he rolled up his pants. Was he a runner now, or was he getting that cut from CrossFit? If only this were an interview and she had an excuse to barrage him with questions.

“So how did you meet?” Fiona asked. “Was it at a wedding?”

“Sort of,” Walter began.

“It’s a boring story,” Hildy cut in. “Not worth repeating.”

Walter leaned forward. “She’s being modest.”

“No, I’m beinghonest. There’s a difference.”

“Really? I’d love to hear you explain it.”

“Good thing you’re used to disappointment.” Hildy forced herself to leave it at that when she realized Fiona was watching this exchange like it was the hot new drama on HBO. At least she looked entertained rather than mopey, almost as if… the Walter situation wasn’t a liability after all. Or not at the moment anyway, when Fiona was desperate for a distraction. And what was more diverting than knowing other people’s lives were more fucked up than yours?

Hildy felt the tug of an idea trying to take shape from the swirling cauldron of her thoughts. Fiona was tired of being stared at.She wanted more time with Robbie. A distraction lightened her mood. She had doubts about her wedding plan…

“She’s plotting something,” Walter whispered to Fiona.

“You don’t know that.” It was a reflexive denial. Hildy’s brain was running full scheme ahead.

He made a low grinding noise. “I can hear the wheels turning.”

“That is not how my brain sounds.” She jabbed a finger at the side of her head. “My mind is an electric vehicle.”

“Scooter?” he guessed.

“Porsche.” Hildy locked eyes with Walter, daring him to challenge her metaphor with gratuitous mansplaining.

Fiona pressed her lips together, stifling a giggle.

Right. The plan. That was the primary objective.

“So what is it?” Walter asked.

She turned to Fiona. “I think you need a minute to reconnect with the heart of what’s happening here. We can’t let all the noise and confusion obscure what matters most. Which is why I think we should go see your castle.”

“Now?” Fiona’s eyes were huge. “In the dark? Us three?”

“You and Robbie,” Hildy corrected. “And me.”

“And also me,” Walter interjected.

“Plus Corinne,” Hildy said, since apparently they were making it a group outing.

“We’ll have to ask Maude. And she’ll probably want to bring her secret boyfriend.” Fiona glanced at Walter, who nodded to confirm he was cool with Loïc’s presence.

“Meet by the van in fifteen minutes?” Hildy phrased it as a question, trusting everyone to understand it was really an order.

“This is so spontaneous.” Fiona pressed a hand to her mouth, like she couldn’t believe their audacity. “It’s not even on the itinerary!”

27Walter