The Scent Keeper(61)

“How perfect for you,” I said.

For just a second her eyes darkened, but then she smiled. “We’re on the top floor. Department stores always put perfume by the entrance, to greet you—and make anything else you might buy feel less expensive. But yes, I like knowing it was here.”

She’d said we, I noticed.

The elevator doors hushed apart, and we walked down a thickly carpeted hallway. Victoria unlocked a door, and it opened to a room with ceilings that soared up over our heads. The wood floors were dark and polished, the walls white as blank paper. The far wall was one giant window, divided by straight black lines and covered by white curtains so thin I could see a vague impression of the skyline beyond.

Victoria took off her shoes. “I like to protect the floors,” she said.

She seemed smaller without the heels, but as she walked over to the windows, her feet owned every inch they touched. She pulled back the curtains, and the late-afternoon light poured in. Across the street, I saw a glass box of a building that reflected ours like a mirror. Somehow, the old and curving lines of Victoria’s building seemed to make sense that way, seen from a distance, caught in time.

I stepped forward, and my tennis shoes squeaked against the floor. I hurriedly took them off, looking around for somewhere to hide them. They seemed so incongruous in that beautiful space.

Victoria saw me. “Make yourself at home,” she said. “I’m going to change out of my work clothes.”

I put my shoes in the closet next to Victoria’s, then wandered into the living room and sat down on the black leather couch. It was all so different from the hostel, or the cove. No chattering roommates, no sound of fishing boats. Just a river of cars going by outside and the warm honey of Victoria’s perfume.

On the table next to the couch I spotted a phone, and a flash of guilt ran through me. I hadn’t called Colette and Henry since I’d found out the truth about Fisher. I’d told myself I didn’t have the money to spare, but the reality was that every time I went near the phone, all I could think of was Henry telling me about Colette, following him across the country, and him, looking up to see her coming down that dirt road.

The best moment of my life.

I’d thought Fisher and I would be like that. I couldn’t bear to admit to Henry and Colette that I’d failed.

But now I had something else to tell them, something I could be proud of. I’d found my mother—a beautiful, successful woman—and she’d taken me in. That was news to share.

I tiptoed down the hall, careful of the floors.

“Would you mind if I used the phone?” I said to the closed door at the end.

“Go right ahead,” came the muffled reply.

Colette answered on the first ring. “There you are,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“I found Victoria,” I told her. “My mother.”

“Oh,” she said hesitantly, but then the warmth came back into her words. “How was it?”

The love in her voice took me back. In a flash, I was there in her kitchen, surrounded by the smells of bread dough and Dodge and the faint hint of lavender from her soap. I opened my mouth, ready to confide in her.

I lost Fisher. My name is Violet. I don’t know what’s true anymore.

But then I stopped myself. Colette had been a brave traveler. I might not get the love of my life, as she had, but I would not give up and go home yet. There were other things I could win here.

“I’m staying with Victoria for a while,” I said. “But she has a phone, so I can call you.”

“I’ve got the number right here on my cell,” Colette said. It made me smile, hearing that familiar way she claimed any technology Henry would allow into the cove.

“So, what’s she like?” Colette asked, and I brought my thoughts back to the city.

“Beautiful,” I said. “Smart. We went to lunch at a fancy restaurant where the clams in the chowder were still in their shells.”

“Huh,” Colette said. “We generally do that work for our customers.”

“I know,” I said, and smiled again at the rough pride in her voice.

“Did you find Fisher?” she asked.

There was a moment of silence. “How’s Dodge?” I asked.

She paused, as if deciding whether or not to let me off the hook. “Oh, well,” she said eventually. “He’s an old dog, but he’s a good one. He misses you, you know?”

I swallowed. “Give him a kiss, okay?” I heard Victoria coming into the kitchen nearby. “I gotta go.”

“Already?”

“Yeah—we just got here. I’ll call soon. I love you.”



* * *



As I hung up, Victoria came into the room, dressed in slim black slacks and a loose white shirt. Her hair was down around her shoulders. I thought of Dylan, pulling my curls—Miss Piggy, are these your tails? I was willing to bet nobody had ever done that to Victoria.

“You sounded so comfortable on the phone,” she said. She was carrying two glasses of water, and she passed me one as she sat down. “I wasn’t listening to your conversation; I just heard the way your voice sounded.”

I nodded. “Colette and Henry are the ones who took me in after…”

She waited a moment. When I didn’t continue, she leaned back and asked, “What was it like there?”