Edith gave her a strange look, and Céline realized that the last line should have been Inès’s—not hers. But Edith kissed her on both cheeks anyhow and bid her adieu before embracing Inès with a whispered, worried thank-you. And then she was gone, leaving Céline alone with Inès, wrapped in a web of secrets that grew more complicated by the day.

twenty-three

JUNE 2019

LIV

The ride to the Maison Chauveau took twenty-five minutes, first on a motorway out of Reims, and then on a narrow country road that led through small towns dotted with vineyards.

The champagne house itself sat on a small hill at the edge of Ville-Dommange, a tiny village whose sign welcomed visitors to a “premier cru” winemaking region. The narrow streets were peppered with cozy cottages and tiny gardens, and the town itself was surrounded by long, neat rows of vines that seemed to disappear into the horizon. At the gates of the Maison Chauveau, which featured the letter C forged in ironwork script, Grandma Edith took care of paying the driver, while Liv glanced around. Though there were houses in sight far down the lane, the Maison Chauveau was isolated, surrounded in front by a small, neatly tended vineyard plot, and in back by a much larger vineyard that stretched all the way down the hill.

“Well, come on, then,” Grandma Edith said, gesturing to Liv as the car drove away. “I suppose we should get this over with.”

Liv followed her up the stone drive to a pair of dark, glossy double doors, which her grandmother pushed open like she’d been there a thousand times before. Inside, there was a small gift shop with a tasting bar attached. A young couple sat sipping champagne, their heads bent close together as they whispered to each other.

“Are you okay?” she asked Grandma Edith. The older woman had begun wandering around the room as if in a trance, and Liv wondered what she was thinking about, what she was seeing in the past. Had she spent time here with her friend Inès, the one who had died during the war?

“What did you say?” Grandma Edith asked, finally turning to Liv and blinking a few times, as if she hardly recognized her granddaughter.

“I was just asking if you’re all right. Maybe we should sit down for a little while.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Grandma Edith glided away, toward an old stone fireplace in the corner, and Liv watched with concern as she reached out, her hand shaking, to touch the mantel. “This used to be . . .” she whispered, her voice trailing off.

Liv started after her, but then she felt her cell phone vibrating in her purse. She pulled it out, checked the screen, and felt her heartbeat accelerate. With one last concerned glance at Grandma Edith, Liv answered. “Julien?”

“Liv.” His voice was deep, certain. “I’m sorry I missed your earlier call. I was in a meeting.”

“I thought you were ignoring me.”

“No, Liv, never. I would not do that.”

Of course he wouldn’t. She realized that now, that he wouldn’t leave her hanging. “Julien, I wanted to apologize. I thought that your wife was still alive, and—”

“Liv,” he interrupted, and she closed her eyes, bracing herself for a dismissal. “The misunderstanding was my fault. I assumed your grandmother had mentioned it, but I should have known that I can never count on her to say or do the things I expect.”

Liv glanced at Grandma Edith, who now appeared to be whispering to the fireplace. “That might be the understatement of the year.”

Julien chuckled. “Liv,” he said, sobering. “I thought I felt something between us, but—”

“You did,” Liv cut in. “I felt it, too, but I thought I was betraying your wife, and then when you kissed me—”

“You must have thought I was the worst man in the world.”

“No. I think I was so upset because I wanted you to kiss me. I was angry at myself.”

“You wanted me to kiss you?”

She took a deep breath. “Yes. And that’s why I was kind of hoping you’d do it again. Unless I totally scared you off.”

Julien’s silence made her stomach swim until he spoke again. “I’m on my way back to Reims now, actually. Could I take you to dinner tonight?”

“Actually, I’m not in Reims. My grandmother, in typical mysterious fashion, just announced an hour ago that she wanted to tour the Maison Chauveau in Ville-Dommange, so we’re here now.”

“Chauveau?” Julien asked instantly. “Is she okay?”

Liv looked at Grandma Edith again. She was clutching a window frame with white knuckles, staring out toward the vineyards. “Honestly? I’m not sure.”

“I’m just in Tinqueux. I can be there in ten minutes. Would it be all right if I join you? I promised my grandfather that I’d do my best to look after her while she’s in town.”

“Of course.” After hanging up, Liv looked for Grandma Edith, but she had vanished. “Crap,” she muttered, scanning the room once more before heading through the double doors leading out toward the vineyard behind the building.

She was relieved to see her grandmother standing just beyond the back door, gazing into the distance.

“Was that Julien?” Grandma Edith asked as Liv walked up beside her.