“It’s wonderful that they’re able to make the trip over here.” Sylvie loved Ade’s obvious excitement.
Ade’s smile faded. “Part of me wishes I could’ve gone home for the holidays. It’s not going to be the same here. But Steph keeps reminding me that it’s more about us being together than being somewhere specific.”
“You Americans are very enthusiastic about this holiday, aren’t you?” Sylvie asked.
“It’s bigger than Christmas in our house,” Ade said. “My dads go crazy for all the traditions. Usually, the whole family joins us fora huge dinner. It’s a big deal.”
“Must be strange though, having to celebrate away from home. And it’s not like we have the same holiday here in France. Most people don’t even know about it.”
“You mean, the United States’ colonial victories aren’t in your calendar?” Ade’s eyes widened with a sparkle. “Sorry, I shouldn’t joke about it. I love the holiday, but its origins are flawed.”
“Trust me, we have our own ways of marking our country’s questionable role in history.” Sylvie chuckled. “I find it fascinating though, how the world continues to honor these historical events through the rose-tinted glasses of modern times, without making more of the unheard voices of history.”
“It’s all turkey. Hearing untold stories might bring the mood down.”
“Exactly.” Sylvie bit her lip. She could talk to Ade all day.
“So, you wouldn’t want to join us for lunch? With my folks?”
“For Thanksgiving?” Sylvie asked.
“The day after. They’ll be here for a few days, and they want to fill their time.” Ade blushed and looked to the floor. “Forget I asked.”
“I’d love to meet your parents.” That sounded wrong. “I mean, it would be lovely to welcome them to the city.”
Joy radiated from Ade’s face. “That’s fantastic. I’d love them to meet you.”
“Why?”
“Because they’ll see that I’m doing okay out here.” Ade nodded.
Sylvie wondered why her presence would validate Ade’s success. Sometimes she forgot how young she was. Ade sought the approval of her parents in a way that Sylvie no longer needed. It was another good reason to maintain the professional boundaries between them. So why had she just agreed to a family lunch? That suddenly seemed much more intimate than she’d thought it would be. Sylvie straightened in her chair. “Did you want to go over some work items?”
Ade retrieved her notebook from her bag. “Sure. I’m more orless up to date with supervision meetings.”
“All the students are on track?” Sylvie asked, poised to take any notes.
“As far as I’m aware.” Ade fidgeted, as if she was being stretched out of her comfort zone.
“What do they all have planned for Thanksgiving?”
Ade frowned. “I’m not sure.”
Sylvie raised her eyebrow. It wasn’t that Ade was self-centered, but she could be so blind to the needs of others sometimes. “Might be worth checking in on people to make sure they’re not missing their loved ones back home.”
Ade studied her notebook. “I guess so. I’d hate to spend Thanksgiving alone.”
“Right.” Sylvie fought the urge to tip Ade’s chin in her direction. “The whole group is away from home, and they might be struggling just like you would be if your sister and your dads hadn’t made it here.”
Ade withdrew into herself in the way that Sylvie had gotten used to over the past few weeks. She guessed it was Ade’s way of digesting and making sense of the world.
“I’d better go. Thanks for your time,” Ade said, gathering her things.
Ade took away some of the room’s warmth when she left. Even though her impromptu meeting had interrupted Sylvie’s morning, it had been a welcome distraction. Left alone, Sylvie busied herself with preparation for classes but continued to drift to the shape of Ade, her closeness, the rise and fall of her voice. Was she ever going to maintain the professional distance she needed to get through the year? Every time Ade was around she melted, drawn ever nearer to her heat. Ade lit a spark inside Sylvie that hadn’t flickered in a long time. She enjoyed the warmth of her rekindled desire but feared its unknown depths. Allowing herself to think about Ade was sparking a fire that could rage out of control, its white heat scorching everything in its path.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Steph balanced on a rickety chair,stringing up the last of the fairy lights against the dormer window. “How about that?” She turned on the garland of bud-shaped bulbs, and it cast an incandescent glow in the hollowed-out frame.
