Perfectly Unpredictable (16 page)

Dear
M. Sinclair,

I am
so very sorry for your loss. Alexandre was a beautiful person, and although I
only knew him for a short time, I loved him and miss him. I can’t imagine how
devastating it must be to lose a child. It’s lovely that you would go to these
lengths to fulfill his wishes.

I
would enjoy meeting you. I am living in Rivermede, Ontario in Canada –
I’m not sure if you knew where your email was sent. Unfortunately, I cannot
travel at the moment. Would you have the opportunity to visit?

Thank
you again for your email. I hope we’ll have a chance to meet.

Kalia
Beck

Kalia read it over and hit send before she
changed her mind.

Okay.
It’s done.
Hopefully it was the right decision.

There was only one email the next morning
when she checked. From A. Sinclair. She hesitated and, holding her breath,
clicked it open.

Dear Ms.
Beck,

Thank
you for the condolences. We, too, miss Alexandre very much.

Maurice
Bastille mentioned to us that you live in Rivermede. My brother and his family
live in Lancaster, and my wife and I have plans to visit him early next month. This
is partly why I contacted you at this time. We could easily make a side trip to
Rivermede and would be delighted if you could join us for dinner. We plan to be
in Canada from April 6 until April 20. Perhaps we could meet on April 14 or 15.
Would this be convenient for you? Please let us know – our plans are
flexible.

We
look forward to hearing from you.

Alain
Sinclair

Kalia blew a breath out slowly. It was
really going to happen. She put a hand on her stomach to stop the butterflies. In
for a penny, in for a pound.

Dear
M. Sinclair,

Thank
you for the invitation. Either date is fine with me.

I
look forward to meeting you.

Kalia

Dear
Ms. Beck.

Wonderful.
We will be staying at the Bennett Suites on the Water and will book a reservation
for dinner there on April 14 at 7 p.m.

We
also look forward to meeting you.

Until
then,

Alain
Sinclair

“Wish me luck,” Kalia said, smoothing her
hands over her skirt.

“Good luck.” Mack smiled as he shifted Mani
from one hip to the other. “But you won’t need it. Everything will be fine. You
look beautiful, by the way.”

Kalia paused. “Thank you.” She had taken care
choosing her outfit and had finally settled on a dark maroon pencil skirt,
edged with a ruffle at the hem that pulled it from business attire to evening
attire. She paired it with a pink and gray blouse and pulled her hair back, but
kept it loose.

“You look all grown up,” Mack said. He
fingered the dangling pendants at her ears. “I like these.”

“Thank you. I don’t wear them often because
they’re not Mani-proof.” She smiled and leaned back as Mani mimicked Mack and
reached for them. “Okay,” she said, bracing herself. “I should go.”

She didn’t move.

Mack laughed. “They’re probably very nice
people. You liked the son,” he pointed out. “Relax and be yourself.”

“I know,” she said. “But what if I slip up
and say something about Mani?”

“It’s okay for them to know you have a son.
They won’t know who the father is. And you can get a feel for them and decide
if you want to tell them. Trust your instincts.”

“Right. Be myself. Relax. Trust my
instincts,” she murmured to herself as she grabbed a jacket. “You know,” she
said, looking up at Mack, “none of that really helps.”

Mack laughed and gave her a gentle shove
out the door. “Go. We love you.”

Kalia’s heart melted. “Okay, that helps,”
she said, and she quickly leaned in to give them both a kiss. “I won’t be
late,” she promised, and she walked out quickly before she could change her
mind.

The drive downtown was quick. When she
pulled up to the front door of Bennett Suites on the Water, the bellboy opened
her door and helped her out. He handed her a ticket for the valet parking and
escorted her inside.

Wide French doors opened into the warmth of
the foyer. An oversized vase with tropical flowers sat on a polished mahogany
table. Her feet sank into plush carpet.

She walked through the lobby to the
restaurant off to one side and paused at the entrance. She checked her watch. Seven
p.m. On the dot.

Quiet murmurs and soft soothing music
filled the air. A candle flickered at each table, creating an intimate setting
in the low light.

The maître’d walked over and greeted her
with a smile. “Welcome to La Fête du Roi
.
May I
take your coat, mademoiselle?”

“Thank you,” she said as she slipped it
off.

He helped her with it and handed it over to
a junior waitress hovering near the door. “Are you joining someone this
evening?”

“Yes, I am. Madame and Monsieur Sinclair.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, checking his
reservation book. “Right this way.”

He led the way, winding through the
restaurant to a table by the window overlooking the river. The lights from the
buildings across the river created a shimmering reflection in the water. The
simple beauty and the quiet calm helped settle her nerves.

“Here you are, mademoiselle,” he said and
with a little bow, moved away.

A tall gentleman rose from his chair.

Kalia extended her hand. “Hello, you must
be Alain Sinclair.” The likeness to Alexandre took her breath away. The same
startling blue eyes. The same devilish good looks. The hair was peppered with
silver, and the laughter lines around his eyes were a little more pronounced,
but he was definitely Alexandre’s father.

He grasped her hand with both of his and
leaned over to kiss both of her cheeks. “I am indeed. It is a pleasure to meet
you, Ms. Beck.”

“Oh, please call me Kalia.” She turned to
the woman sitting at his side. Gray-green eyes, with a veil of sadness, watched
her curiously. “Docteur Tabeau-Sinclair, I’m honored to meet you.”

“Fiona, please.” The woman rose and, with
two hands grasping Kalia’s gently, kissed Kalia’s cheeks.

“Have a seat,” Alain invited as he held the
chair for each woman and waited until they sat.

“I hope I’m not late,” Kalia said as she
adjusted her purse on her lap.

“No, not at all. We arrived a bit early to
enjoy an aperitif and this magnificent view.”

“The lights on the river are beautiful
tonight. Did you have a good trip from Lancaster?” Kalia asked.

“We did. We took the train. It was very
comfortable and convenient.”

“Not as efficient as the trains in Europe,”
Kalia said with a smile.

“No, that is true,” Alain agreed with a
smile. “Service back home occurs with much greater frequency and greater
ridership, but it was pleasant.”

The waiter filled their water glasses. When
he left, Fiona turned to Kalia. “Have you visited Europe, Kalia?”

“Yes, several times. My parents have family
in France and Germany, so we’ve spent many summer vacations there. I met Alexandre
at a conference in Nice.” She glanced from Alain to Fiona. “I wanted to offer
my condolences to you. I am so very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Fiona said quietly, looking
down briefly. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she looked again at Kalia. “It has
been quite difficult. His illness was brief and devastating. With all the
advances of modern medicine, you expect that all will be well and that doctors
will be able to pull a cure out of their hat. But alas, it was not to be. And
so I grieve.”

“I didn’t know that he was ill,” Kalia
admitted. “At the conference, he was brilliant. I think everyone, all eight
hundred participants, showed up to attend his keynote address. He was animated
and passionate. You could see he really loved his work.”

“Thank you, Kalia,” Fiona said. “It means a
lot to me, to us,” she corrected, glancing at her husband, “to hear the stories
about his life and how he touched people. I’m sure Alain has mentioned that
when Alexandre took a turn for the worse, when he was offered palliative care,
which was a most difficult time, he requested a favor of his father and me. He
asked that we deliver a gift to each of his four close friends. Of course we
agreed, thinking that we would be doing this for him and in his memory.

“But interestingly enough, now I wonder if
he didn’t do this for us. It’s been such a blessing to meet again with his
friends. They’ve shared their stories of him, in a way that during the funeral
and wake wasn’t possible. Those days were a blur, but meeting with you and his
close friends has given us a chance to share in the memories.

“Alexandre was clever and very considerate
of us. I think he saw that I, or we, perhaps,” as she smiled at her husband,
“would need the solace that this contact has given us. So we appreciate you
meeting with us in this way. It must have come out of the blue.” She laughed
softly. “We are very happy we could meet you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Fiona. It means a lot to
me that Alexandre would think of me.”

“Yes, we were very curious.” Fiona’s eyes
twinkled. “But now that we’ve met, I can see how he would be enraptured.”

“Thank you,” Kalia said with a smile.

The waiter appeared to take their order.

“Do you need more time to decide?” Alain
asked Kalia. “We’re ordering the table d’hôte.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’ll have the
same,” Kalia said.

“Perfect,” the waiter responded. He
collected their menus and silently moved away.

“You mentioned you met Alexandre at the
conference. Are you in the neuroscientific field as well?” Alain asked.

“No, I was at the conference as an
interpreter. I translated some of the presentations,” Kalia explained.

“How interesting!” Fiona exclaimed. “What
languages do you speak?”

“Growing up, my parents spoke English,
French, and German to me, and then I studied Spanish, Russian, and Mandarin at
school.”

“That’s very impressive. Medical
translation?”

“It varies. I’ve done legal translation,
some contract and manuscript work. I love the variety.”

“Is it hard to keep your skills up with all
of those languages?”

Kalia laughed. “It is, but I keep busy so
that helps. It does influence the jobs I accept. And I can always practice
French and German with my parents. They enjoy that.”

“That’s lovely. We spoke English and French
at home so Alexandre would be comfortable with both. Of course, he went on to
do his schooling in English. That made a difference to his fluency, too.”

“He didn’t need any translation at the
conference. His English was flawless.”

Alain and Fiona smiled.

The waiter arrived and served a cold
cucumber soup garnished with a sprig of thyme. They ate their way leisurely through
the main meal, and the waiter cleared their plates and offered coffee with
dessert.

“Do you have espresso?” Alain asked.

“Yes, monsieur,” the waiter said.

“Fiona?”

“Yes, I’ll have one too, please.”

“I’ll be awake all night if I enjoy one
this late,” Kalia said ruefully as she shook her head at the waiter’s enquiring
glance. He gave a slight bow and moved away.

“We have become immune,” Alain said with a
laugh. “In our line of work, we drink coffee like others drink water.”

Kalia smiled. “What type of work do you
do?”

“We are both physicians,” Alain explained,
grasping Fiona’s hand and holding it.

Kalia wondered if being in the medical
field would’ve made it more difficult when Alexandre was ill. The feeling of
helplessness would have been awful. “Did Alexandre follow your footsteps in the
neurosciences?”

“No, he didn’t,” Alain replied with a smile.
“I’m a general surgeon, and Fiona is a dermatologist, a skin specialist.”

“Wow. No wonder Alexandre was brilliant. It’s
in the genes. You must have a busy household.”

Alain and Fiona laughed. “We have had, for
sure. But we’ve slowed down now. We took time off to be with Alexandre and
haven’t returned to full-time hours,” Alain said. They glanced at each other.

“And probably won’t,” Fiona added. “I find
I don’t have the energy for it. Maybe that will change with time, but for now, part-time
suits me. And my practice can accommodate this, so I will take advantage of it.
Alain has a little bit less flexibility, so it is not as easy for him . . .”
She trailed off, looking at him.

“Yes, it’s true to some extent. But any
time off I’ve requested, I’ve been granted. It’s worked out.” He shrugged.

The waiter put steaming espressos in delicate
glass cups in front of Alain and Fiona.

When the waiter moved away, Alain cleared
his throat. “Kalia, as we mentioned, there is a gift that Alexandre asked us to
deliver to you.” He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a small package
delicately wrapped in silver tissue paper. He held it out to Kalia.

Kalia took it gently and set it on the table.
She blinked back tears, surprised at the sweep of emotion as she looked into
Alain’s serious eyes.

Fiona gently covered her hand. “Would you
like to open it?”

No, she really wouldn’t, Kalia thought
sadly. Not here. She was afraid of showing them how emotional she was.

But maybe that’s what it was all about, she
thought. Sharing these feelings. Being with people who also loved Alexandre.

She nodded without speaking and slowly
unwrapped the tissue. She stared at the small oval box. “It’s so pretty,” she
whispered, as she looked at the pale blue textured top with silver threads,
sparkling around a glass pink bow.

Fiona smiled sadly and stroked Kalia’s back
in comfort at the emotion in her voice. “Open it,” she urged.

Kalia opened the box slowly and caught her
breath at the ring nestled inside a fold of pale blue velvet. Light glimmered
off a swirl of sapphires and diamonds on a delicate silver band. “He wanted me
to have this?” she asked, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“He did.” Fiona smiled softly, her eyes
filling. “This ring was passed down to me from my mother and from her mama
before her. I gave the ring to Alexandre as a gift on his twenty-fifth birthday
in the hopes that, when he found love, he could pass this on to his bride.” She
paused to dab at tears on her cheeks. “He loved you, Kalia.”

“I loved him, too,” Kalia whispered, and she
wiped away tears. She felt Fiona’s arms around her.

“He also wanted you to have this,” Alain
said as he handed her a letter. “You don’t have to open that now if you’d
rather wait.”

Kalia took the letter and, taking deep
breaths, lifted watery eyes to look at them. They looked back with concern, and
she knew she would tell them about Mani.

“We didn’t mean to make you sad,” Fiona
said with a worried frown.

“No, no, please don’t worry. I’m very
touched. I don’t think I should accept this. It’s a family heirloom. It must be
precious to you.”