AN: I can't find the place in my story where I spoke in more detail about Sherry's life in France. Not by name, not by various keywords - so the possibility is that I wrote it but left it out last minute at some point. But in case it does exist and I am just lost within the mass of 450 000 words I apologize for any inconsistencies in advance.
Also, if you want you can find the place I imagine for Sherry's place with simply searching the google for the advert nr "1688-221-IVDU2200074214".
G had landed in Charles De Gaulle on one of the worst days possible. The overflow of confused tourists and their luggage had completely jammed the TGV station by Terminal 2 thanks to the transport stoppage that had started that Friday, there wasn't a single rental car available in days and all the Ubers and taxis were either supporting the strike or working double shifts already. And somehow the message wasn't getting all the way across to those not fluent in French.
Unions were powerful in France, and the CFDT really knew how to prove a point by choosing the busiest days of the year, just before Christmas, for a full blown strike, leaving only a handful of busses and the two driverless metro lines running in the entire city of Paris. She'd considered not coming, realizing this would limit her mobility significantly, but her mother had insisted - saying how she missed her and suggesting they'd go on a few day trips outside of Paris instead to get away from the chaos if needed.
G had the advantage of understanding what was going on and what her options were, which were close to none, and instead of attempting to get a cab, she made her way out to the short term parking lot by Terminal 2E where she found a quiet corner to sit and wait while her mother would come to pick her up. Nobody in their right mind came to drop off or pick up people from the airport around here unless the person needed assistance, the traffic jams were bad on a good day, and this was certainly not one of those days. The good news, I guess, was that Sherry was on her way and had been for hours already.
G's head still throbbed a little and the flight had been tiring in itself, but frankly the trip couldn't have come at a better time personally. She was utterly embarrassed by how the night of the gala had gone. She didn't want to face anyone who knew about it more than she had to, hoping that after Christmas people wouldn't recall it as vividly. What had been supposed to be a quick moment to clear her head, and taking in the city from an unusual place behind the Gotham hall's pillars, maybe bumming a smoke from someone, like she sometimes liked to do after a few drinks, had really ended quite differently. She'd ended up talking with the guy - out of sheer boredom, seeing the event itself going nowhere, and simply hadn't thought it was a big deal to take a few puffs of his joint when he'd offered. She'd never done it before, but she knew people who had - most of them saying only positive things about it. Hence she hadn't really thought too much about it. How she'd gotten down from there and to the first floor bathrooms, she really didn't recall. She did recall the fear that she'd felt, not quite understanding when the good emotions everyone she knew had spoken of, would begin. There had been the fear of everyone finding out - and a lot of people had. She could feel her debt to Rory add up.
G was trying to preserve the remainder of her phone battery, there being a long line at the public charging stations as well, hence instead of scrolling her feed or watching something, she spent the time by perusing through some newspapers someone had carelessly discarded just where she was sitting. There was the French Metro, La Parisien and even a copy of Le Monde. She didn't care much for politics or strikes, as the main topics seemed to be, but she skimmed through them nonetheless. She was about half way through with the third paper, when her phone rang.
"I'm pulling up. There are literally only handicap spots, so be ready to hop in," her mother's voice said. That always caught her a little off guard when she heard it - it was sharp, yet light, making her a little nostalgic, as they usually mostly wrote e-mails.
G quickly rose, and without much thought shoved the newspaper to the side of her pink Fjällräven backpack and pulled her large hard shell behind her. They got a few angry shouts from a parking controller, but managed to be on their way before he had a chance to do anything, G apologizing loudly over the street noise in English this time hoping it'd excuse them by by being cathegorized under 'stupid American tourist' who were forgiven a lot.
"The traffic is crazy, I mean… we're only, what, half an hour away… it took me two and a half hours to get here," Sherry spoke, as they continued to drive, while one would've probably walked faster in this traffic.
The fact was fairly obvious, not really needing to be stated and G smile looked at her with a weak smile.
"Oh, Gigi, mon chéri," Sherry then said, letting go of the wheel momentarily and reaching over to hug her. "I missed you," she said. They were pretty much standing still anyways, just getting one angry honk when not moving the instant the car in front of them moved, but honking was something one got used to pretty soon around here.
"I missed you too, mom," G replied, having not seen her since spring when she'd visited her parents and her in the States. No matter how weird the relationship got with her sometimes, or how abandoned she sometimes felt being all by herself - she somehow blamed her less than her father. She'd had years of living with her mother right here, she'd gone to school, and while she'd also been given a lot of freedom of decision here, probably too early on, it was the most like a home she'd known. With Christopher it had always been about the housekeeper looking after her while he worked, or his inability to really parent. She knew she needed to respect both and that neither was perfect, knowing some details from her earlier years as well. Either way - it was good to be going to what she mostly considered her childhood home.
Through the entire two hours that it took to drive to Saint-Denis, Sherry got her caught up on everything that was up in her life, including her work for her boyfriend of nearly 10 years, Remi, who ran a gallery and was fairly well known for his own work as well. Sherry had always been good at sales, and while the scale and field she did it here was very different, she was pretty happy with where she was.
"Now, go take a shower, rest, and then tell me everything, okay?" Sherry hugged her daughter sideways as they finally got to their house and walked towards the building.
G could sense her mother's rustiness in this, and whenever she'd seen Lorelai it just reminded her a lot of her, except it didn't seem to come to her as naturally - perhaps Lorelai was a role model for Sherry in a way. G definitely wasn't going to tell her everything, but she'd do what she always did - give her the headlines of everything, sticking to the positives and liven it up the actual boys she'd dated without dwelling on the hurt. She was definitely going to skip over Finn though, that still stung too much to touch, though she had to admit that her recent dramas were beginning to overshadow it a bit.
The place was a four-bedroom red-brick Duplex with a large terrace in the back, which in the summer was usually full of various potted plants - another one of Remi's hobbies. Right now most of those plants were indoors, making all the rooms and hallways notably narrower. But the place was homey, it held nice memories for G, even though compared to Christopher's townhouse in Boston this was very eclectic, making it very clear it belonged to an artist, and while modern - it was quite a bit humbler compared to the townhouse or G's apartment in New York. The other half of the duplex was Remi's studio, office and gallery space - not at all large, roughly the size of an average living room, but it was what he preferred.
G's room, at least what used to be her room, now almost filled to the brim with the potted plants for the season, was a loft space essentially, with a low bed and a couple of lavender-colored bean bags she'd insisted on some years ago. She placed her stuff down and for a moment took a deep breath as she reached it. For a minute she'd miss the lack of a private one-suite, her heating system that made her apartment nice and toasty if she felt like it, that never really was the same here, the moisture of the old house filling her nostrils already. But it was odd - whatever the States spoiled her with, coming back here felt like being unspoiled a little at least, and toning down her expectations. It was two weeks - nothing she couldn't handle.
G took a shower, allowing the airport grime wash off of her, but didn't dwell too long, knowing the boiler wasn't huge. Getting out of the shower was always a challenge though, the old windows cooling the room quickly. She wrapped herself in a towel hastily and decided to swiftly make her way back to her bedroom to get dressed.
It was then she heard a familiar low voice greet her, "Salut, mon choupette," and hug her from behind, laying a scratchy wet kiss on her cheek over her shoulder.
"Remi!" she exclaimed, being happy to see him after almost a year and a half, and turned and hugged him back. He'd always been very physical, but then again so were most French people, and they'd had a pretty friendly relationship while she'd stayed there. But there was something in that hug of his that she hadn't quite pinpointed before - it didn't feel right, now knowing the difference between how a guy hugged and touched a lover compared to how a stepfather should and would.
Maintaining the friendly smile on her lips, she pulled apart, and held onto the towel that she had around her a little more strongly and made her way to her room, adding in passing how she was hoping he'd cook his famous Croque Monsieur later, not letting on anything was up, and slid the sliding door closed behind her.
Maybe she was just imagining it?
"Open," Finn requested, as his fingers held a chilli and dark chocolate truffle and placed it in Charlie's mouth, as they were sitting side-by-side at the outside dining table at Finn's sister's pool house after dark. Charlie was blindfolded and dressed in her black bikini, having been swimming earlier, her braided hair still half wet. While this might have looked like another one of their seductive games, and in a way it certainly was, but the main point of this really was just to act as another trust exercise. They were literally doing this by the book, Charlie having looked up various trust exercises.
"Definitely better than the Nameko," Charlie mumbled, letting the chocolate melt in her mouth. Nameko was one of Finn's favourite Japanese foods, but texture-wise it was definitely an experience on it's own.
He'd fed her figs, marinated beets, rum-soaked maraschino cherries and the best chicken liver pâté he knew, taking her on a journey around the world with the accompanied stories.
He kissed her then, finishing off the tasting.
"Hmm… even better," she whispered, insisting on the second part of that kiss, before pulling down the blindfold.
"Good," Finn commented in a satisfactory tone. "I have one more thing for you though..," he began and rose from the table and walked inside for a moment and returned with his tablet.
Charlie raised her eyebrows expectantly.
"First things first," he said and pulled up his test results. "I'm clean as a whistle," he added proudly, feeling immensely relieved.
"You didn't need to show me this, I would've believed you if you just told me," Charlie said, feeling like she needed to. There was already trust, all the little things - the secrets, the minutes they'd spent just looking at each-other's eyes and all the other little exercises were clearly working.
"And now this," Finn added, deciding not to dwell on those results any longer, and selected another application on his tablet. He showed her the i-Boating application, where he'd drafted their route. But to her surprise it wasn't heading North like the plan had originally been. He moved around the map, zooming in on a few locations.
"I know I mentioned Whitsundays and more distant locations but the winds are from the North-East this time of year and this way it'd be smooth and calm sailing on most days. Going up North would be against the wind and with higher probability of cyclones," Finn explained. "This way we can bring everything, take our time at the Gold Coast - Southport, go along the coast line - Coffs Harbour, Port Macquarie, Dooragan National Park, Newcastle... And if we're on time, we'll finish in Sydney for the New Years Eve Fireworks," he added. He knew her travel itinerary, including that her flight was from Sydney anyways. This way they wouldn't have to worry about taking the boat back and he could hire a skipper to take the boat back to his father later and ensure they actually took their time enjoying the trip. "Would this be okay?" he asked a little hesitantly, hoping it wasn't less than what she'd hoped. He hadn't had too much time to plan this, but in the midst of getting Charlie's shifts replaced at work this was what he had.
"When would we leave?" she asked.
"I was thinking...the evening of the 25th?" Finn suggested. "Jamie lives up the river, so we could even take the boat there, bring everything. We'd do the gifts, and then Santa can sail off. I figured it would be kind of fitting, the holiday is more about the kids anyways," he explained.
"It's soon..," Charlie noted.
"It is… but so is the 3rd," Finn replied seriously, the 3rd being her departure date.
Charlie nodded, feeling the sting of that realisation. Her not feeling her greatest had stolen them of nearly a whole week.
"I haven't really thought about gifts... I'm really not very good at them, especially to people I don't know too well yet," Charlie changed the subject, knowing that staying on that topic wouldn't result in anything but her sobbing. She honestly didn't know how she was going to leave him, she felt like it was going to break her.
"You'll share mine - don't worry. I bet for most of them getting to meet you is a gift on its own," he said, placing his arm around her shoulders.
"Still - I should bring something - should I maybe cook something?" Charlie asked, worriedly.
"That really won't be necessary. Amanda has a catering company helping out," Finn replied. His older brother and his family lived a lot more lavishly than Sylvie or his parents, but in their case with the number of children they had and their love for animals, it was really quite understandable to have staff helping out. "But I should warn you just in case though - Amanda has a two-month-old there," he added, unsure how painful the topic really was to her. She seemed fine, but maybe catching her off guard on a surely an exciting night, might have been too much for her.
"Oh," she reacted, having not quite expected it. "Thanks for telling me, but I should be okay," she added, truly appreciating the way he was looking out for her.
What she didn't know was that Finn had also shared with Sylvie that she couldn't have any so she could tell the rest not to pester her with baby-related questions too much. He trusted Sylvie enough to do it delicately. He knew it was personal and perhaps something she'd rather not tell everyone outright - but he didn't want anyone upsetting her just before their trip either. He needed this to be perfect.