The evening light of Manhattan gleamed against the skyline as Rachel stood in the lobby of The Whitby Hotel, waiting. Her heart raced with anticipation as she glanced at her phone for the third time in five minutes. Today her parents and ex-in-laws were arriving in New York, and she knew their presence would set the tone for Charlotte's 16th birthday weekend. The girl had opted for a more grown-up celebration this year – no more fairy lights and unicorns. Instead, she had chosen a rooftop party in Soho, complete with a live DJ and an array of gourmet street food stalls.
Rachel straightened her ivory silk blouse, which she had tucked into high-waisted black trousers that accentuated her small frame. She had chosen strappy heels that added a touch of elegance without being over the top, and her hair was styled in soft waves that framed her face. She wanted to look composed, even though the thought of facing Henry's parents again made her stomach churn.
The revolving door at the hotel's entrance spun, and Rachel's parents entered, their presence immediately filling the space. Sandra, always the epitome of elegance, wore a tailored cream-colored dress that hugged her slim figure, paired with a pastel pink scarf draped over her shoulders. Her hair was perfectly styled in a sleek bob, and the subtle scent of her favorite Chanel perfume lingered in the air. Leonard followed closely behind, looking dapper in a navy blazer over a crisp white shirt, his silver hair giving him a distinguished air.
"Rachel!" Sandra called out, her eyes lighting up as she spotted her daughter. She hurried over, embracing her with both arms. "You look stunning, darling."
"Hi, Mom," Rachel smiled, returning the hug before stepping back to greet her father. "Hi, Dad. I'm so glad you both made it."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Leonard said, patting Rachel on the back as he kissed her cheek. "How's our birthday girl?"
"Excited", Rachel said with a laugh. "She's been planning this party for weeks."
Before she could say more, the door revolved again, and Rachel felt her heart skip a beat as Genevive and Luc entered the lobby. Genevive, ever the picture of French sophistication, was dressed in a tailored black suit with a pearl necklace and matching earrings. Her silver hair was pinned back in an elegant chignon, and her sharp blue eyes scanned the room with practiced precision. Luc followed, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a gray cashmere sweater under a dark blazer, his face a mask of calm.
Rachel greeted them with a polite smile.
"Genevive, Luc, it's good to see you both."
Genevive's expression softened slightly as she kissed Rachel on both cheeks, though there was a distinct coolness in her demeanor.
"Rachel," she said, her French accent pronounced. "Thank you for arranging everything."
Luc gave Rachel a firm handshake.
"It's good to see you, Rachel," he said, his voice warm, though his eyes held a hint of sadness that always seemed to linger. "We've missed Charlotte."
"She missed you both, too," Rachel replied, though the conversation felt stilted, weighed down by the unspoken tension between them.
As they all gathered near the concierge desk, Rachel couldn't help but notice the difference in atmosphere. Her chatty and warm parents contrasted sharply with Genevive and Luc's more reserved and formal demeanor. It was something she had always struggled with during her marriage to Henry – how different their families were, how different she was from them.
The group moved to the elevator, heading up to the suites Rachel had booked for both sets of grandparents. As they ascended, Leonard broke the silence.
"So, Rachel," he began, his tone casual but laced with curiosity. "I heard from your mother that you're seeing someone?"
YOU ARE READING
Starting over
FanfictionA year and a half after her husband's death and after living in Paris since she was a teenager, Rachel, along with her daughter, is ready to head back to her hometown, New York City.
