’…and so I came back with 25 Euro. Paul, a Pastis s’ill vous plait.’ Renee rubbed her palms and turned back to me. ’What’s wrong?’

I yielded under her stern look. ’Arggg.. It’s like you and smoking, you love it, but it’s bad for you right?

Renee looked puzzled.

’Bette and I are sleeping together.’ I blurred out, stupidly to my surrogate-mother-in-law. I shook my head. Technically it wasn’t sleeping together, because she always left afterwards, as if she couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping in our bed or close to me. One afternoon we had ended up in bed, and after a few rounds, she had closed her eyes exhausted and drifted off into a slumber. It must have been only a few minutes, I had cherished each and every one of them, enjoying her peaceful breathing, the serene look on her stunning features, the small smile that had lingered on her lips.

’Grass is green, the sky is blue.’

’What’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked.

’Cherie, you and I spend a lot of time together.’ Renee sighed as if I exhausted her. ’You found me lying at the mail boxes. You went with me to every doctors appointment, heck you even saw me naked. We spent 12 hour in the car together for the second opinion in Germany, we cried together on the way back. Not once you mentioned loosing your child Tina, not once.’

Her words were a direct blow to my stomach. ’What were your new years resolutions? Torture Tina till she breaks?’ I retorted without a second thought.

’No it was quitting smoking ok?’ She snapped back without missing the beat.

I bended my head in shame. ’Sorry.’

’It’s ok, I always loved your feistiness.’ She chuckled until she coughed and I felt even more like an asshole. I handed her a napkin. She tossed it aside and continued, out of breath but with a dangerous twinkle in her weary eyes that should have warned me. ’How was it back then? What were you telling me with those big, brown, dreamy eyes of yours?’ She reached for my glass and sucked the straw, batting her eyelashes. Pretending to throw her hair back and pretending to be me. ’It’s a girl Renee. It’s a girl. Imagine the dark curly hair, the tiny fingers, all the cute dresses. Maybe she will love arts just as much as Bette.’