Page 12 of Willows and Waterlilies

“Wait, one more time, just for my left ear,” I say low and quiet, “it’s not quite believing what the right ear just heard.”

“There’s no conference, just a ticket for you to go to Paris,” Cam explains one more time, “to wash away the past year. Come back and start afresh.”

“Am I really that pathetic?!” I sigh as I lean over to stop the blood rushing from my head.

“Yes,” Nate teases, to which Cam stands to slap him upside the head. The asshole just laughs all the harder. “I’m kidding! Come on, Ellie, instead of getting all bent out of shape, why not just embrace the offer?”

“Because I’m sick of having to rely on you,” I gesture toward Cameron. “Not you, Nate, you’re just a pain in my ass.”

“And this is why I went all cloak and dagger,” Cam sighs as he sits back down. “I have the means to help, Ellie, and you deserve this. Think of it as a bonus.”

“A pity bonus!” I scoff.

“No, a well-earned bonus,” he argues, all the while I continue to shake my head at him. “Besides, you agreed to go so I’ve already purchased the ticket. If you back out, I’ll lose the money anyway.”

“Yeah, Ellie, why would you wanna waste Cam’s money?” Nate teases. “Seeing as he’s on the breadline and all.”

I get up suddenly, feeling overwhelmed by what’s happening. Cam might be trying to help, and I know Nate’s only teasing because he cares, but life has dealt me blow after blow, this year. It hurts even more to know the rest of my family seem to find happiness so much more easily than I do. There’re only so many times you can tell your nearest and dearest that someone else has disrespected you and still manage to have a smile on your face.

The Carter boys have remained quiet, as if showing caution before the wild beast that is me. I appreciate it; it shows they’re taking me seriously, that my pain is real and valid, even to Nate. As if to prove this point, I soon feel Nate’s hands slipping around my shoulders while he kisses me affectionately on the back of my head.

“It’s just hard,” I sniff as the tears catch me off guard.

“We know, Elle,” he mumbles against the back of my head.

“Why am I not enough?” I gasp after a whimper. “I mean, why am I a target for guys who are less than? Why am I not targeted by the good guys?”

“Ellie, you’re only twenty-four,” Cam says from behind us, to which I roll my eyes, “it will happen!”

“It’s more than that, Cam,” I sob, “I feel pathetic all the time. I feel like you guys all get together to talk about me like I’m a ridiculous side character from a rom-com.”

“We don’t…” Nate begins but I cut him off before he can finish.

“I know, but it doesn’t change the fact that that’s how I feel!”

“Ellie,” Cam says before taking hold of me from his brother, “you are not pathetic. Don’t let any guy be the definition of who you are. If they cheat, that’s their flaw, not yours; you didn’t do anything wrong. So, see this ticket as an opportunity for you. Go and eat crepes, see the louvre, and let go of everything.”

“If I agree,” I begin with a long sigh, “then you have to promise to stop trying to save me. I mean it, this is it!”

“Deal,” Cam says with a mischievous smile that says he knows he’s won. “But you have to promise to get the most out of this, for you. Don’t settle for anything less.”

“Ok,” I reply as I take the ticket from his outstretched hand.

“We’re proud of you,” Nate says from behind me, “you have never shown anything other than class with these assholes. Remember that.”

“Gee, thanks, Nate,” I whimper because even he’s being serious with me.

“Bon vacance!”

Ellie

Three days later

“Bonjour,” I say to the ticket office assistant, completely butchering the language with a nervous hand flap and a bright red flush to my cheeks. My nervous giggle causes the woman behind the glass to roll her eyes and huff through her nose. “Parlez-vous anglaise?”

“Oui,” she sighs, “tell me which package.”

I inwardly curse myself for being so awful at languages when I was at school. I just couldn’t get past Mr Stephen’s beard which always held remnants of his last meal. It was both gross and a point of interest, trying to guess what he had eaten, all the while he droned on in a monotone voice that sounded even less French than I just did. Still, at least I’m trying.

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