"Ah, Cami, I need to have a talk with you," I was sitting on a stool in our massive kitchen listening to my iPod when my mother motioned for me to come into her study. I followed suite.
"Yeah?" I had wondered if she was going to give me a talk on how she hopes my life won't be affected by dad's newfound identity and that sort of thing. I had sensed it was going to something like that when mother started playing with her jewellery. I was slumped over on the stiff chair opposite facing her desk. She paced a few very small steps.
"I have talked to your father, and we have both decided on what to do."
I gave a small grimace.
"It is no surprise that we will separate indefinitely."
She waited for me to give my reaction-I gave a small nod. She continued,
"Because we both have a very high public image to maintain, we are trying to make the separation has quiet as possible. Fortunately, your father and I are still on amicable terms and have reached an unofficial agreement." This was unsurprising and understandable. Both of my parents were high officials in the government, their names would occasionally come up in political discussions, and they've been on Meet The Press a few times. Any sign of weakness could damage their reputation, and professional career. Especially my father's.
"I will give you the full terms of agreement since I believe you are old enough to understand. Now, your father will have this house and the one in London-"
"Wait, what?" My parents had bought our main house situated in Potomoc, Maryland where some of their colleagues also dwelled, and its proximity to D.C. was very favorable. But, occasionally, they were sent to deal with negotiations outside the country and felt it was best to buy other houses. We owned a house in London, a penthouse in Paris which my mother sometimes stayed in for Paris Fashion Week, and a summer house or country house in Connecticut. If my father was to take this house and the one in London, that left my mother with the Paris penthouse and the summer house. My mother cleared her throat.
"Your father will have this house and the one in London. I will have our summer house and the Parisian penthouse but I am growing a bit tired of the US government. I am moving to France after I officially resign my post here and transfer to France's. I plan to buy and renovate a smaller and less grander-but still elegant- home in Dix. It's a town about quarter of an hour away from Paris."
I was rendered speechless. I knew my mother had always been a Francophile but moving out of the country. Would she expect me to move to France with her? I didn't like that possibility.
"How often will you visit us?"
She had a calm expression over her, as if moving across the Atlantic was just like moving next door. The calm expression broke when she gave a wry smile.
"Well, I was hoping that you would be moving to France with me."
My worst nightmare suddenly came into my reality. I stood my ground.
"No. I refuse to move. Anywhere."
Mother frowned and her eyes gave a hard glare. I knew she meant that by taking me and her to move to France was not an option for me.
"Camilla Natasha Guo Sautier, you will be moving to France with me, and you will plan and pack your bags right after this discussion is over. Our jet is expected to take off next Friday. We shall settle in our new home by the weekend after that."
I knew it was hopeless to talk anymore especially when mother used her belligerent tone. Not mention that my blood ran ice cold through me disabling me to think of a clear counterargument. Mother glared at me until I couldn't bear it any longer-I forced myself to calmly walk out of the room. That didn't prevent me from shutting the door as roughly and as loudly as I wanted. I marched up the winding staircase up to my room. I threw myself on my bed and cried. I played a CD to help clam me down, but I couldn't focus on it.
I was to leave all of my friends, and familiar surroundings to a country where I could hardly speak the language fluently and where I would have to be the awkward new girl.
On the Thursday before we were expected to leave, we had packed away almost everything my mother needed. I went through all of the rooms to make sure we had not left anything behind and to say goodbye to everything. I was over my crying stage now, but that didn't mean I wasn't sad. I was a mixture of anger, sadness, and hope. All the furniture had been taken away save some few that my dad wanted. Mother had left a little while earlier to talk with the interior decorator In France so that when we arrived, everything would be ready. I wasn't going to sleep tonight-no, a driver would pick us up near midnight and drive to where our jet was expected to take off. We were going to depart in the early hours of Friday morning.
Dad didn't show any signs of sadness towards my mother but he did to me. I had no problem with his newfound identity, but it was overwhelming for me to have my parents separate. We reminisced over the good times, and had a long conversation. Dad tried to help as much as mother would allow him. But, he did try to pack almost all of my things. I didn't let him, some of my personal things were embarrassing to show to him.
He stood in the doorway to give us a goodbye and helped move our bags into the trunk of the car although that was the driver's job. He even opened the door for us, giving us each a tight hug. I looked back to capture the last image of him-waving in the light of our porch, and growing smaller….