by Agnès Ruiz
“Do you think she wants your father’s inheritance?”
Joanna shrugged a shoulder, unsure that she wanted to confide.
“He’s not as rich as Croesus!”
She dipped her lips in her glass as if to give herself a reason to ignore her doubts. But Guillermo waited silently, his eyes on hers.
“I don’t know”, she concluded. “She came out of nowhere, like a hair in soup.”
“Maybe they love each other, despite the age gap...”
“I don’t even know how they met. We don’t know anything about this girl. But you’re right. I suppose I should give her a chance. I haven’t even met her, yet.”
“Have you told your father how you feel?”
“And tell him what? That I don’t approve of his choice? He’ll laugh in my face, or worse, throw insults at me.”
“You are hard on him... Or on yourself, difficult to say.”
“My father taught me everything; he is fantastic...”
She tried to find the words to convince him. Guillermo placed his hand on hers which was on the reception desk. The contact made the young woman shiver.
“Don’t make excuses for him. I’m sure you mean what you say. But at the same time, you are desperately trying to please him...”
“Or make amends”, Joanna admitted before biting her lip.
“Why do you say that?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
“You want your father to be proud of you; it’s normal. And you deserve it”, Guillermo insisted squeezing her hand in his.
Of course he was right.
How much would she have given to see her father’s eyes shine for her actions? She had waited so long for that moment... He hadn’t shown any real interest since the announcement of her pregnancy. It had all been such a long time ago. How much longer should she wait? How much would she need to accomplish to finally earn her father’s pride? Would she get it one day, or was she simply kidding herself?
39
Zoé was being very helpful all week. She had offered to help her mother multiple times. For example, she had vacuumed, which she usually hated. At the dinner table, she no longer showed up just in time to eat. She set the table without objection and eagerly cleared it afterwards. She even went as far as doing the dishes several times, not without breaking two glasses and a plate. But Joanna didn’t mind that. As she usually said: He who does nothing; breaks nothing.
Joanna wanted to believe that her rebellious period was over, but she felt that something fishy was going on. With the weekend coming up, she stopped her daughter as she went to take a shower.
“Zoé, we really need to have a small talk.”
“What, now?” Zoé regretted.
“Yes, now”, Joanna insisted.
Zoé usually took no notice of her mother’s demands. Her “now” usually meant “one of these days”... This time, she looked towards the bathroom, then to her mother.
“All right, if you think it’s important.”
Joanna could have rejoiced: “Finally the age of reason”.
As it wasn’t the first time she had hope on this subject, she held her tongue.
They found themselves both in the kitchen. Joanna offered her a glass of orange juice.
“Is it going to go on for long this “small talk”?” Zoé asked, pulling a face.
“The time it takes”, Joanna replied, putting her glass of juice down.
“Let’s go, then...”
Zoé was willing, there was no doubt. But there was also resignation. Did she hope they would finish quickly and go back to her own business?
Joanna no longer felt like doing so. She had started this discussion; she would go all the way. Even if it finished with an argument, like so many times, she thought to herself.
Hold steady, she thought trying to focus on her daughter. Come back to the essential.
“To begin with, Zoé, I would like to thank you for this week”, she began. “For everything you have done, your kindness, your actions. I must acknowledge that you’ve been of great service because...”
With that, Joanna seemed ashamed to bring up the seaside hotel. It was always a sore subject with Zoé. She said that her mother only saw everything that revolved around her job.
“I know, you work hard. So, what’s the problem?” Zoé was impatient. “Can’t I help you a bit around the house? You’ve got to be joking...”
“Yes, of course you can”, Joanna interrupted before her daughter lost her temper. “I love that you are like that: helpful, nice... That we can talk about anything, that we have nice evenings together, like before.”
“We’re not wild animals. Of course we can get along”, Zoé agreed, nonetheless defensive.
This is where it becomes delicate, thought Joanna. Or this is where I refrain and I... bury my head in the sand...
No! She didn’t want to act like that. And yet it would be so easy... Why complicate everything when it could be so simple?
“Well, is that all you wanted to say to me? It’s fine, I’m happy that you’re happy.”
Zoé laughed at her comment. Joanna settled with smiling.
“That’s not all, Zoé.”
She let out a sigh that seemed too long to Joanna. Her daughter was getting impatient. How difficult it was to get the words out. She was sure Zoé was going to scream afterwards... Never mind. She closed her eyes briefly, as if she were building up the courage from somewhere then went for it.
“I thought that... perhaps by being really kind as you have been all week that you were after something.”
There. She said it. The look she got from her daughter was just as she imagined: Dark, raging, full of anger. As expected, she opened her mouth to rebel.
“Like, in return? That’s it... You never trust me, do you? Never!”
Zoé raised her voice. It was what Joanna refused. If this provoking conversation turned sour, it would end up with screaming, a new argument, hell at home... For weeks or months even. Very quickly, Joanna intervened.
“This week, I realised that you are capable of making a lot of effort. But mainly, as we have gotten on so well”, she insisted strongly (she even took her daughter’s hand in her own to emphasise her feeling). “We even had fun together, you can’t deny that.”
Zoé smiled at the reminder of a particularly nice evening. One evening that week, they went to the cinema together, just the two of them.
It was Zoé who chose the film. A story about zombies that she enjoyed so much and that her mother hated.
Joanna hadn’t argued. At the end of the screening, Zoé asked her what she thought of it. With her mother’s meaningful faces, they had burst out laughing, honest and full of complicity.
“You’re right, it was great. We should do it more often.”
Joanna eyed her daughter to detect any kind of manipulation. Yet, her face was sincere. Her eyes shone.
“Maybe another zombie film”, Joanna assured smiling.
Zoé laughed frankly and approved, telling her that they could find something they were both interested in.
A moment later, she discreetly freed her hand from her mother’s and finished her glass of orange juice. However, she put it back on the counter a little too hard.
40
Joanna could still feel the tension through her movements. Intuitively, she knew they were skirting around a sensitive subject. The floodgates were going to open. Was that a good thing?
“It’s just that... That I wanted to show you that I could take care of myself and of the house a bit.”
“Why, Zoé?”
Zoé avoided the look from her mother. Instead, she played with drops of orange juice which had spilt onto the counter. She placed the empty glass upside-down then moved it around before picking it back up to see the results.
“Does there really need to be a reason? I can’t just do it anyway?”
It was a mumble. Joanna knew they were only words for now. What did her daughter really
want then?
“I can listen, you know, Zoé.”
“Do you have time? Really... Grandfather won’t call you to rush and save the hotel from certain death?”
“Don’t be ironic.”
“Admit it, I’m not wrong. As soon as he calls, off you rush.”
“Since when do your grandfather’s words wind you up so much?”
“Since he makes your life impossible!”
“It’s nothing new, you know...” Joanna sighed.
She wanted to remain indifferent. Nevertheless, it hurt that even her daughter recognised her father’s role in her complicated life.
“I know... Since I was born... Well, since you disappointed him, he, the Great Manitou.”
“We can’t always please everybody”, Joanna mumbled, unable to ward off the blow.
“He has much higher standards for liking people. He doesn’t like me!”
“Zoé! Of course your grandfather likes you! You’re his only granddaughter!”
“It doesn’t change anything. I know it, I can see it in his eyes, on the rare occasion we see each other.”
“And that bothers you?”
Joanna was crushed. She never thought it would affect to her daughter this much.
Yet, she wasn’t fooled by Rodolphe G. Gaspardin’s almost-pathological rejection of his granddaughter.
She was there!
Not only had her father refused to trust her, but he had also underhandedly spat on her daughter in contempt. It was unfair.
Joanna felt the boomerang coming back like a slap in the face.
“It’s true. It hurts”, Zoé recognised.
Joanna took her hand and squeezed it in hers.
“Have you felt this way for a long time?”
Zoé raised a shoulder, her head stubbornly dropped down towards the counter. Her hair hid a good part of her face. Was she crying? Joanna wondered, in distress.
“I’ll speak to my father. We need to sort this out.”
“No, absolutely not!” Zoé panicked.
She quickly snapped her head up. Mother and daughter looked like each other: An earthy brown upon which the sun sometimes forgot to cast its light.
“It won’t hurt him, you know”, Joanna insisted.
“Do you think it will make any progress?”
Joanna doubted it. Nevertheless, she kept it to herself.
“He’s in a fairly good mood recently”, Joanna assured her.
“You’re talking about his next marriage! Huh! I wonder who he thinks he’s fooling with that.”
“You don’t believe it?”
“It’s none of my business. He can do whatever he wants with his life.”
She was turning nasty. Joanna saw it was undoubtedly all those years of rejection bubbling up to the surface.
So why now? Joanna lost control a little. She wanted to start a discussion and found herself in a full examination regarding not only her daughter, but herself.
“Has something happened?”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know. Just asking. Zoé, I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, don’t say anything. Anyway, there’s nothing to say, I reckon. That’s just the way it is.”
“It sounds like a death sentence.”
“I think that’s how grandfather would prefer it was for me...”
“Zoé! I think you’re going too far this time”, Joanna reproached her, strongly.
She was horrified hearing her daughter utter such words. Had she thought that way for a long time? Did she just want to provoke her? Oh! How much this all hurt! So much!
“Anyway, all this is my fault”, Zoé continued.
She didn’t try to hide the tears that ran down her cheeks. Suddenly, she got up and left the kitchen.
“Zoé!” Joanna called her, also getting up.
Her daughter did not respond. On purpose no doubt.
She heard a door slam.
41
Joanna realised it was the bathroom door that had been slammed shut. She preferred that to the front door. Yet, she moved towards the hallway and pressed her ear against it.
“You’re not going to do anything silly, are you?” she mumbled through the door.
She got no reply. Her heart heavy with distress, Joanna continued with her monologue.
“You know you are the most amazing thing that happened to me?”
She couldn’t hear any sound from the other side. Was her daughter listening to her? She hoped so. Full of hope, she continued pouring out words of love for her daughter. Her heart gradually skipped a beat as the silence went on forever on the other side.
“I need you, Zoé. You are my strength, even when we bicker. You are a breath of fresh air and you help me see things clearly. I know I invest a lot in the seaside hotel. Probably far too much; your grandmother Lorelli says the same thing. But I love what I do. Really. I love the seaside hotel and I can’t imagine a moment without it.”
Joanna waited, and hoped. There was no reply to her heartfelt appeal. Her daughter couldn’t care less about what Joanna wanted.
Was she like this at her age?
Joanna refused to throw in the towel. She placed her hand on the door that was still closed.
“I’ll leave everything if you ask me to, Zoé. We can always start again. We’ll go wherever you want. You only need to say it. I love you, Zoé, more than anything in the world. Forever. You must never forget that.”
Joanna was crying. For how long? She wondered when she realised. How strange it was. She had poured her heart out without even thinking about it.
She thought she heard footsteps. She sniffed and stopped breathing, full of fresh hope. Finally, Zoé’s voice filtered through from the other side.
“I love you, too, Mum.”
“Open it, darling, please...”
She had to wait another eternity before Joanna heard the door unlocking. Zoé’s head appeared and they looked at each other in silence before the teenager began to speak.
“You’ve never liked closed doors.”
“That’s true”, said Joanna.
They both suddenly began to laugh at her statement. It was sudden and unexpected, chaotic, too, but oh, how good.
“I’m going to take my shower, now. Can I?”
"Yes, of course... ” smiled Joanna, throwing her a tearful, but sparkling wink.
Zoé closed the door again. She suddenly reopened it as Joanna was leaving, her step lighter.
“Actually, Mum...”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to leave. I’ve got all my friends; it’s my home, here.”
“And what about the seaside hotel?” Joanna hiccupped, already disorientated by her reply.
“I suppose we’ll get by...”
“Well, let’s go with that, then”, Joanna replied automatically.
She found herself in the kitchen again, alone. Her daughter’s words played over in her head “I suppose we’ll get by...”
She opened the refrigerator, lacking inspiration for their meal when she heard a buzzing sound. She turned around to discover Zoé’s mobile phone on the counter.
It was almost incredible. She had forgotten it despite almost never being separate from it.
The screen lit up and she had the time to read the text message from her friend, Lilas.
She asked if it was sorted for the weekend.
“What is this all about?” Joanna murmured glued to the screen which had since turned itself off again.
She thought back to her suspicions about Zoé all week.
It couldn’t be a coincidence. Zoé wanted something.
And instead of talking to her about it earlier, they found themselves talking about the seaside hotel and Rodolphe G. Gaspardin.
Had Zoé done it on purpose? Had she manipulated her mother to avoid the real discussion?
No! Joanna didn’t want to believe it. Her daughter wasn’t like that.
42
>
Wanting to see the positive side of it, Joanna began preparing the meal, but Lilas’ question to Zoé kept going through her mind, like a persistent song.
She soon heard the bathroom door open. Zoé went to her bedroom. It didn’t take her long to notice her mobile phone was absent. Joanna suddenly panicked. What if her daughter thought she had gone through her things and taken the mobile?
Maybe she should take it back to her now, without delay?
Joanna played for time and stirred her spaghetti sauce with more strength than necessary.
“Mum, have you seen my mob... Ah, there it is!”
Joanna turned around.
“Yes, you forgot it, earlier.”
“I remember”, Zoé confirmed. “Hmmm! That smells so good. Can I help you?”
“You can set the table, if you want”, said Joanna.
A new song was playing in her head: “Tell her, don’t tell her... Tell her, don’t tell her...” For a while, she could have even softly hummed it as she mixed the sauce.
Plates clinked behind her. Zoé was setting the table. A strange atmosphere prevailed in the kitchen. At least it wasn’t Joanna who was doing it.
“Why don’t you put some music on?” Joanna suggested, unable to put up with the strange feeling of dissatisfaction for much longer.
“Why not... But, Mum...”
“Yes?”
Joanna turned around too quickly. Her arm caught the edge of the spatula which jumped out of the pan and flew through the air. Spaghetti sauce was thrown in her wake and stained the wall and the extractor fan without sparing Joanna.
“Ah, well done! I don’t miss a thing, me!”
“Oh, it’s nothing, Mum. Just some sauce.”
“Yeah... Just some sauce”, Joanna repeated
She thought of Guillermo. He made the same kind of reaction as her daughter when she did something clumsy. Was it true? It wasn’t really all that bad? Was she talking about the same subject or the actual subject that was hiding away somewhere?
“There’s enough left for us both, anyway”, Zoé said, smiling.
