Sweet granadilla juice

-Sweetheart, are you ready?

He received no answer. He asked again, but this time speaking louder . He waited. Still no answer.

Worried, he went upstairs, looking for Tiana. From the sound of the footsteps he perceived, he could deduce that she was in the dressing room of their bedroom. Or more precisely, the dressing room of their suite: a bathroom, a large dressing room, a small lounge and the bedroom itself. The decor, in short, was rather minimalist, with no frills or extravagance. It was nonetheless sober, elegant and warm. The large bay windows bathed the room in exquisite natural light, and the sea spray subtly perfumed the whole with a soft marine air.

The scene before him had an air of déjà vu. It was the same scene he had seen every time they had to go somewhere, to friends or relatives: the entire contents of Tiana's dressing room were scattered on the floor, she was about to pull out all the hair from her head.

Sensing Ruddy's presence, and without even turning around to look at him, she said in a dejected voice:

-I have nothing to wear.

Ruddy rolled his eyes. It was always the same story.

-Sweetie, whatever you put on will be perfect, believe me. Besides, we're just going to have lunch with Mom and some of her friends...

She glared at him. He sighed soulfully, mentally preparing himself for what was to come, praying for patience.

-Sweetheart...how about you try on a few outfits, then I'll pick the one I find most suitable?

He himself was not sure if the tone of his voice was declarative or interrogative. Anyway, the result was there, she was smiling now. In two times three movements, she was already changed and paraded proudly in front of her man.

He contemplated it, the glance at the same time amused and admiring.

-So?

-Try another one.

About half a dozen outfits and twenty minutes later, they were finally ready to leave.

-Thanks, honey, without your help, I would have ended up bald by the end of the day.

He winked at her.

-You are sublime my sweet.

They went to the car hand in hand, and once installed, they started to drive.

***

Standing in the doorway of her charming little villa, Mrs. Margarette looked forward to the arrival of her son and daughter-in-law. It was always a great pleasure for her to receive them. She made it a point of honor to pick them up as soon as they got out of the car. And this time was no exception.

As soon as she saw the car pulling into the gravel driveway, she ran ahead. And once the passengers were out of the car, she smothered them with her effusive, warm welcome.

-My little darlings...how are you? Oh...it's been so long since I've seen you.

-We saw each other last Sunday, Mom.

-Last Sunday? It's been even longer than I thought.

As the son rolled his eyes, an amused smile on his face, the daughter-in-law hugged the mother-in-law and laughed.

-Nice to see you too, Maguy.

***

Quietly seated in comfortable charcoal-colored sofas, they sipped sweet granadilla juice.

-So, what's new, kids?

-We're not exactly young anymore...

-Even on the day you turn 90 you will still be my children.

Tiana laughed heartily and replied:

-We're not far from it.

Margarita swept the air with her hand, as if to rid herself of the absurdity of her beloved daughter-in-law's words.

-Nonsense. Well, if you don't have any news, maybe you're hungry. How about we go to the table?

-I thought you were never going to suggest it. I can't wait to eat that chicken and onion.

Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law looked at each other with a knowing glance before saying in the same voice:

-A real stomach on legs.

***

Lunch was going well, with the clash of knives, spoons and forks, the clash of cutlery. Marguerite's friends had arrived in the meantime and were happily keeping the conversation going. They always had funny anecdotes to tell.

To the sound and rhythm of these discussions, a whole other scene, a scene from a long time ago, came back to Tiana's memory; a scene that had been decisive, a little earlier in their lives. And she couldn't wait to be alone with Ruddy to enjoy the joys of reminiscence.

They were now on their way home.

-You know, honey, that lunch reminded me of something. Your influence is really rubbing off on me.

He laughed out loud, obviously amused and delighted.

-I listen to you my sweet, share your memories with me.

-Do you remember that day? The day you took me to your parents' house for lunch. It was a very special day. More than a simple courtesy lunch, it was both a reunion and a reconciliation meal. Indeed, you had been on very bad terms with your parents, for several months. The reason? A woman. What other reason could there be, anyway? They didn't really like - and not liking is a mild understatement- the young woman you were dating. Maybe they had a hunch. And they were right, weren't they? Considering what happened next. Parents have a sixth sense, they can sense things like that. The woman couldn't stand the fierce and obvious hostility that your parents were showing her. So she asked you to make a choice, a cornelian choice : it was her or them. And without the shadow of a doubt, your choice was quickly made. So you and your parents cut ties. And a few months later, their fears had been confirmed, the lady, once tired, quickly replaced you. And that almost cost you your life.

-Love makes you blind, as they say. And I had been not only blind, but also stupid.

-It's not the mistakes that count, but the lessons learned. Your parents had missed you terribly. After all, you were their only child. But they couldn't bring themselves to take the first step. You had abandoned them, in reverse; you had made them understand, by your decision and your actions, that they were less important in your life, so they had preferred to stay away and respect the distance you had imposed yourself. On your side, the lack of your beloved parents was also felt. Without them in your life, it seems like there was a terrible emptiness, which even my assiduous presence at your side could not fill. It was shame that kept you from reconnecting. The remorse. The disgust of yourself. You had felt unworthy of them. I knew the situation and witnessed the pain their absence was causing you. As your friend, I could not stand by and watch you suffer in silence. You had to reconcile with them, even if I had to threaten you with a knife to your throat to convince you. Fortunately, we didn't have to go to such extremes. Fierce argumentation got the better of your reluctance, you just needed to be encouraged. And one fine day, it was a Sunday I remember very well, you finally took your courage in both hands and called them, after more than six months of silence.

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

-This proves once again that you are an angel fallen from heaven, put on my path to enlighten me. What would I do without you?

-Well, you would walk, eat, drink...

-It was a purely rhetorical question my sweet.

She laughed.

-I know.

-I remember that Sunday perfectly, too. I was so happy to hear the sound of my mother's soft voice again, the reassuring tone of my father. She had cried, and begged me to come and visit them, and to talk over lunch and finally put the past behind us. I had felt so guilty. But you were there, to reassure me, and to tell me, that everyone deserves a second chance, that I wasn't a piece of shit.

-And you invited me to come with you. I was nervous, at the idea of meeting your parents, as if I was actually going to meet my parents-in-law. When we were still just friends. And as I was getting ready, changing my outfit at least fifty times, wondering if they would like me, if they would approve of me...it just clicked. I wanted to be more for you.