Taste of Summer

un

Grandmère was dead.

I couldn't stop thinking about how I was supposed to know it would happen so soon, how I could've been the one to guess how bad it was. After all, I was the only one who really cared about her. Somehow.

The fresh spring wind brushed past my skin, lifting the skirt of my black dress. I probably looked like a lunatic, sitting all alone on a bench, in a short black skirt despite the cool air and staring at something only I could see. Then again, it was my first funeral, so maybe this was normal.

My eyes felt dry, as if I didn't have any liquid inside my body anymore that could be used as tears. There was a hole in my heart, something missing, and I knew it had the form of Grandmère.

It happened all so sudden. So sudden that I could make myself believe she went on vacation. I wonder if she finally went to Palermo.

"Hey, Laure," I heard a soft voice say next to me. A hand was placed on my shoulder, the warmth seeping into my cold body. Bastien sat down next to me. "How're you feeling?"

I didn't want to answer at first because I mainly considered him as Grandmère's neighbour for such a long year. But then I remembered that we used to be friends. "Like there's a hole in my heart," I answered and even I could hear how fragile my voice was, almost breaking at the end and so soft, the wind could've swept it away. "I know that she won't come back anymore, but it feels like she'll just be gone for a week or so, as if she's on vacation."

And then finally he moved his hand from my shoulder down to my waist, pulling me towards him so that I could put my head on his shoulder. I didn't cry though.

"It'll be alright," he whispered, a waft of his familiar scent entering my nose and immediately comforting me. It was strange how easily he could console me though we hadn't had a proper conversation in a long time. "I'm here if you need someone to talk about it."

I nodded and then we just sat there in silence. Enveloping me with his arms and his scent, he made me feel safe. The situation seemed surreal but I accepted it as it was.

"We could still kidnap your Grandmère, you know," he then spoke softly. "Maybe get her to Palermo in summer, during the holidays."

It was funny, how I had thought the same. I told him that.

"Seems like our telepathic connection is still intact," he answered with a laugh and I had to smile. "We could really do it though. I think together we could make it."

I nodded thoughtfully. I absolutely wanted to take her to Palermo, I had to. It was her last wish and somehow I knew that she could only rely on me because a) I was the one to make the promise b) Claire was in Norway and not even attending the cremation today c) my Mom was surely too busy and my Dad frankly didn't care. They had all buried her in their minds a long time ago.

"We could really make it." I felt him tighten his grip around my waist and snuggled closely to him, inhaling the scent that defined my childhood.

•••

We planned the trip for two weeks, not because it took so long to find the perfect route and organise everything related to food, but because we barely had time to see each other. It was the time of exams at Bastien's university and I had to take graduation finals.

But when we found the time, we met up and discussed our route, sometimes we would even talk about Grandmère. We didn't reconnect, it wasn't that simple. During the time we spent together, I noticed that we had both changed in that one year, evolved into different directions. So this project of ours didn't help us with reconnecting: it helped us with getting to know this new person the other had become.