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‘Oh, my god,’ says Sarah, one hand over her full mouth. Risky move with Karen Parsons right there ready to pounce on her bad manners. But lo! Mum seems to be in her own gelato heaven, revelling in the tartness of her scoop of limone with puckered lips.
‘How’s the pistachio?’ I ask Jaelee.
‘Buonissimo,’ she replies smugly. It must be the only word she knows in Italian.
I concede with a smile then take a generous bite of my cioccolato and moan involuntarily. ‘Oh, my god!’ I say with my mouth full.
‘Catherine, please,’ says Karen Parsons, Etiquette Afficionado. Of course, she caught me out but not Sarah.
‘Sorry, Mum.’
We eat as we walk, mostly in silence, and I soak in as much of Siena as I can, awed by the beauty of something as simple as a row of shopfronts with apartments overhead. I absolutely must return one day, only next time with my handsome husband in tow.
We make it to the car around 5:00pm and as Sarah navigates out of the carpark and through the winding streets surrounding Siena towards to the motorway, I lean my head against the headrest, content.
‘Thank you so much for today,’ I say to the others.
‘It was fun,’ says Jae, though she may just be saying that to be kind.
‘You’re welcome,’ adds Sarah.
Mum clasps my shoulder from the back seat. ‘It was our pleasure, darling.’ I place my hand on top of hers and give it a squeeze. That’s been the most surprising?and lovely?thing about today, a sort of turning point in my relationship with Mum.
The moment she offered to buy me the dress, I felt many things at once. Relief that we’d found the perfect replacement for my other dress (and not just something that would do). And gratitude, of course?what a generous and lovely gesture. But I also felt a twinge of guilt that I’d almost deprived her of such a special mother–daughter moment. I hadn’t known until then how much it meant to her?or me.
Ours is a complicated relationship?it has been for most of my adult life. All those years ago, she must have thought my move to London would be temporary?that, like Sarah, I would stay for two or three years, then come home. But London became home. And over the last fifteen years, she’s ‘let slip’ the not-so-occasional comment that she wishes I would visit Sydney more, or when I do visit, stay longer.
I’ve always handled what I thought was her disappointment in two ways?outwardly, I’ve brushed it off, made light, and inwardly … well, I usually bury those feelings as deep as possible so that on a day-to-day basis I don’t have to think about how disappointed my mother is in my life choices.
But in that moment at the atelier earlier, I realised something. Mum isn’t disappointed in me, she just misses me. I miss her too, if I’m honest. And Dad and Sarah. I love them all so much. But when you decide to live across the world from your immediate family, you can’t dwell on that?it would make life impossible. Today, though, I felt the depth and breadth of just how much I love my mother. And it’s curious that what began as a mini-disaster, ended with a joyous toast and a sort-of reconciliation in an Italian bridal atelier. Perhaps the fates, who I have been cursing under my breath these past few days, are actually smiling on us.
The low hum of the tires on the motorway lulls me into a sort-of meditative state as I watch out of the window. How fortunate I am. I am in Tuscany, staying in a castle, and spending time with my most favourite people in the world?here now or arriving shortly.
It will all work out. I have no doubt about that now?the wedding, that is. Our decision about where to live looms, but I am an expert in burying feelings when I’d rather revel in reunions and celebrations for the foreseeable future. And after today’s successes, I agree with Jean-Luc. It doesn’t matter exactly where we get married?not when we’re in this beautiful place with the people we love.
The people we love.
Ugh. Cécile will be here in a few days, Jean-Luc’s sister. How on earth will I make peace with her? Is there even peace to be made? I know she’s close to Vanessa, the perfect ex-wife, but why is she so resistant to forming a relationship with me? Why does she seem to hate me so much? I’m loveable! I am Cat Fricking Parsons and I am adored by many?beloved even!
Cécile’s a tough nut.
I could try to find common ground with her?again. I do have something special for the girls to make up for them not being able to come for the wedding. That could be an in. Or maybe Cécile is a lost cause?maybe the whole Caron family is and I will forever be the woman who isn’t good enough for Jean-Luc.
‘Everything okay?’ asks Sarah. I look over and she’s glancing between me and the road. ‘That was a pretty heavy sigh,’ she says quietly.
I peek in the backseat. I’m not sure how much I want to share with Mum, but she’s dozing. Jae is preoccupied with her phone, but she already knows about my tenuous relationship with Cécile. ‘Just thinking about Jean-Luc’s sister.’
‘Oh right, Cécile,’ Sarah says. ‘She does anything to mess with you or your wedding and I will go major Sister Bear on her arse.’
‘I’m sure it won’t come to that.’ Sarah scoffs. ‘Actually … I’m thinking I’ll try to make peace with her.’
‘Cat, this is your wedding. You don’t need to make peace with the bitchy sister.’
‘Sarah’s right,’ says Jae.
‘Mmm? Right about what?’ Mum asks. Serves me right for trying to have a sensitive conversation in a car.
‘That the weather is supposed to be nice all week?sunny and warm,’ replies Sarah, deftly changing the subject.
