Bonus Epilogue
The perfect color
Little Madeleine Barone sat at her small, pink wooden table, carefully sorting her tray of glass beads. There were the coral beads, as pink as a seashell’s inside. Those were her Aunt Emme’s favorites. There were the turquoise beads, as blue as the sea at Cap Taillat. Madeleine liked those best because they reminded her of the days her Papa carried her on his shoulders down the coast’s trails to build sand castles on the beach and find shells for her collection. Papa was the best at finding the shells rimmed with violet and ultramarine blue.
Madeleine used her small pointer finger to push the ultramarine beads into a pile. Blue was her mama’s favorite color. Madeleine thought it was silly, because Mama didn’t have a specific blue she liked. Not cobalt, cyan, or cerulean. Not sky blue, electric blue, or cornflower blue. She wouldn’t even admit to liking a cool blue more than a warm blue.
Mama always said she loved all blues because blue was the color of wishes. She said there were infinite shades and infinite variations and she loved them all.
Madeleine, as a wise five year old, and an older sister, felt it was her duty to tell her mama that a person couldn’t have infinite favorite colors. They had to pick just one.
Mama always laughed and then hugged and kissed Madeleine, which she supposed was all right. Mamas were allowed to not understand certain things.
Aunt Emme understood. She was an artist and knew the importance of color. Papa understood because he designed the best jewelry in the world and knew choosing the exact right color made all the difference.
Mama probably would never understand, but she understood other things like how to play dress-up, and how to bake the best chocolate hazelnut tortes for tea parties, and how to read bedtime stories with the best voices. All in all, Madeleine knew she was the luckiest girl in the world.
Her Papa always said, “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
Sometimes when he said it he’d get teary-eyed, and then he’d pull Mama into a hug, or lift Madeleine on his shoulders (which she liked best), or tickle Isobel, or toss Jules into the air. Then they’d laugh and it’d be wonderful. But sometimes when he said it, he’d only tuck Mama into his side and press a kiss into her hair. She’d smile up at him as if he’d just said the best thing on earth.
So Madeleine frowned across the table at her little brother Jules and said in a serious voice, “Jules, I am the luckiest girl in the world.”
He was two, and not usually allowed at her table, because the beads were too small and he might eat them. But today was special. He was on Papa’s lap and even Isobel who could never sit still was at the table.
“Uh-uh,” said Isobel, “I am.”
Whatever she said, Isobel had to say too.
Isobel stuck her thumb in her mouth.
Madeleine glanced at Papa and when he smiled at her she said, “Can we all be lucky? Just the same?”
Sort of like how Mama loved all blues the same.
“But of course,” he said. Then pointing at her pile of ultramarine beads asked, “Is this the color?”
Madeleine nodded.
“This too,” Isobel said, pushing a few cornflower blue beads toward the center.
“And Jules, have you picked yours?” Papa asked.
Jules leaned over Papa’s lap and grabbed a handful of beads. Coral. Violet. Forest green. None of them matched. Papa smiled and pried the beads free, dropping them into the center of the table.
“Perfect,” he said. “Now we just have to string it. Maddy?”
She sighed. In her mind she’d imagined giving Mama a necklace of ultramarine blue. Just one color. It would’ve been pretty. Now there would be a hundred colors in the necklace and all of them would clash.
“Okay, Papa,” she said. She began to slip each bead onto the string, trying to arrange them in a pattern. Her forehead puckered as she concentrated on the task.
“Will Mama love it?” Isobel asked, pushing a coral bead toward Madeleine. “Will this be her best birthday gift ever?”
Papa nodded and reached over to fluff Isobel’s hair. “She’ll love it. How could she not?”
Isobel asked Papa to tell them the story of how every year he designed Mama a new piece of jewelry. So Papa told the story while they strung Mama’s birthday necklace. Jules fell asleep, his head resting on Papa’s shoulder. During the story, Isobel (who could never sit still) got itchy legs and ran off to play with her jump rope.
But Madeleine, even though her fingers were getting tired (and she wanted to jump rope too), kept working on Mama’s necklace. She wanted it to be perfect. She wanted Mama to unwrap it and gasp and say, “This is the most beautiful necklace I’ve ever seen!”
“All right, Maddy?” Papa asked.
She was almost done. She held it up, frowning at the clash of coral, green, and blue. “It’s not like I wanted.”
Papa reached over and gently took the necklace, holding the glass beads up to the light coming through the playroom’s window.
When the light hit the beads they sprayed a rainbow onto her wooden table.
“Oh,” she whispered staring at the little rainbows, she held her palm out and caught one in her hand. It danced across her fingers.
“Sometimes we have to let go of our idea of what we want to be ready to accept something even better,” Papa said.
He smiled and Madeleine nodded because this was just like when she thought she wanted ice cream for dessert and instead Mama brought out hazelnut chocolate torte and it was better.
“She’s going to love it,” he said.
“I know.” Mama loved everything they made. She loved every blue and she loved every gift. Before Madeleine had thought Mama didn’t understand, but looking at the rainbows swirling on the table, maybe…maybe Mama could like more than one color. Maybe rainbow could be her favorite color. “Can I go jump rope with Isobel?” She looked longingly at her sister, skipping in the corner.
“Go on, then,” Papa said. “I’ll finish up.”
Later that night, after a birthday dinner, and cake, and candles blown out, and wishes made, Mama opened her birthday present.
She hugged the necklace and then put it on, and when she hugged and kissed them all, and said it was the most beautiful necklace she’d ever seen, Madeleine believed her. After all, her Mama always told the truth.
“What wish did you make?” Isobel asked. She always wanted to know what people wished on their birthday candles, even though everyone knew if you told a wish it wouldn’t come true.
“I wished,” said Mama, not knowing the wishing rule, “that I would get to love you all this much for my whole life.”
“Oh,” said Isobel, “I was hoping you’d wished for more ice cream.”
Papa laughed and then they all had another scoop of ice cream. They had more cake too.
Later, Madeleine climbed into Mama’s lap.
“And what were you wishing, Maddy-mine?” Mama asked.
She buried herself into her mama’s arms. “Did you really like the necklace?”
“I loved it.”
Mama smoothed a hand over Madeleine’s hair, which always made her cozy-happy.
“How come you loved it?”
“Because you made it. And Isobel. And Jules. Anything you make, it just fills me up with love.”
Madeleine nodded. Somehow, that made sense. “I was wishing…”
“Yes?”
“I was wishing we could go to the sea tomorrow. But if I say it, it won’t come true. That’s how wishes work.” She peeked up at her Mama and considered her expression. “Isn’t it?”
“Hmm. How about we ask Papa. Max,” she said, and as soon as she did, Papa stopped playing cars with Jules and looked up. “Maddy was wondering about wishes. She wondered if you say a wish out loud, will it come true?”
Papa smiled. “In my experience, when you say a wish out loud it almost always comes true. Especially when you share it with someone you love.”
“Like Mama?” Madeleine asked.
“Exactly. In fact, whenever I share my wishes with her they always come true.”
“Then we are going to the sea tomorrow!” Madeleine jumped out of her mama’s lap and raced across the room to jump up and down with Isobel. Jules was too young to understand, but something wonderful had just happened.
A wish had come true!
The next morning they flew to France and drove to their house on the sea. Before they went inside, they all tumbled down to the cove, splashed through the water, and built a sand castle for the sea to wash away.
Mama wore her birthday necklace. Madeleine had to admit, the beads matched the colorful rainbow cottages lining the azure shore perfectly. It really was beautiful.
Max leaned close, tugging me against him. The sea washed over the golden sand and the kids played in the sand, collecting seashells, sea glass, and bits of driftwood to decorate their castle.
I dropped my head onto his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me, holding me close.
The soft sound of the ocean and our family’s laughter wove together. It wrapped me in a sunshine-warm embrace that filled me with so much happiness I could barely stand it.
I tilted my chin and looked up into Max’s face. He had that expression he wore sometimes when he was thinking about what life had been like before and what it was now. How empty it had been and how full it was.
“Anna,” he said.
That was all. Just my name.
I pressed my lips to his shoulder. An electric shiver ran between us. He drew in a breath and rubbed his hand over my hip.
“Thank you. For my birthday,” I said. “For everything.”
He smiled. Last night, after the kids were in bed, he’d given me more gifts and more love. We’d stayed up late drinking wine, kissing, loving, and talking about the next year, the next five, the next fifty.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked.
I looked at the ring I still wore on my right hand. Wished. It meant anything you want, just ask.
“Always,” I said.
He smiled and brushed his hand through my hair, pushing back the strands the sea breeze had blown free. “I want to kiss you.”
“Is that a question?”
He laughed. “If you’ll say yes, it’s a question.”
I pressed my fingers to his lips and his laugh cut off. “Yes.”
The teasing light in his eyes faded and was replaced with devouring heat. With passion. With love.
He cupped my cheeks, tilted my face to his, and pressed his mouth over mine.
The sea rolled in and rolled out. The sun spilled over us. The gulls soared overhead. The kids collected shells and laughed as they raced up and down the sandy cove.
And all the while Max kissed me with a love I felt from my fingers to my toes. He kissed me with a love I never could’ve wished for, because I never knew how big it was, how great it was, how his was the kind of love that lasted lifetimes.
We kissed and then we went and played in the sand.
