One Summer in Paris(120)

Even she had seen it was too good an opportunity to turn down, but still a small part of her had wished Rosie would turn it down.

That transatlantic flight from the nest had left Maggie with email, Skype and social media, none of which felt entirely satisfactory. Even less so in the middle of the night.

‘Is it your asthma? Are you in hospital?’

What could she do if Rosie was in hospital? Nothing. Anxiety was a constant companion, and never more so than now.

If it had been her eldest daughter Katie who had moved to a different country she might have felt more relaxed about it. Katie was reliable, sensible, and one of life’s copers. But Rosie? Rosie had always been impulsive and adventurous.

‘I’m not in hospital. Don’t fuss!’

Only now did Maggie hear the noise in the background. Cheering…whooping.

‘Do you have your inhaler with you? You sound breathless.’

The sound woke memories. Rosie, eyes bulging, lips stained blue. The whistling sound as air struggled to squeeze through narrowed airways. Maggie making emergency calls with hands that had shaken almost too much to hold the phone, the terror raw and brutal although she kept that hidden from her child. Calm, she’d learned, was important even if it was faked.

Even when Rosie had moved from child to adult there had been no reprieve. Some children grew out of asthma. Not Rosie.

There had been a couple of occasion when Rosie had been in college and she’d gone to parties without her inhaler. A few hours of dancing later she’d been rushed to the emergency department. Those had been a three a.m. phone calls too, and Maggie had raced through the night to be by her side. Those were the episodes she knew about. She was sure there were plenty more that Rosie had failed to mention.

‘I’m breathless because I’m excited. I’m twenty-two, Mum. When are you going to stop worrying?’

‘That would be never. Your child is always your child, no matter how many candles are on the birthday cake. Where are you?’

‘I’m with Dan’s family in Aspen for Thanksgiving and I have news—’

She broke off and Maggie heard the clink of glasses and Rosie’s infectious laugh. It was impossible to hear that laugh and not want to smile too. The sound contrasted with the silence of Maggie’s bedroom.

A waft of cold air chilled her skin and she stood up and grabbed her robe from the back of the chair. Honeysuckle Cottage looked idyllic from the outside, but it was impossibly draughty. The ventilation was a relief in August but it froze you to the bone in November. She really needed to do something about the insulation before she even thought about selling the place. Historic charm, climbing roses and a view of the village green couldn’t compensate for frostbite.

Or maybe it wasn’t the house that was cold. Maybe it was her.

A wave of sadness almost drowned her, and she struggled to the surface.

‘What’s happening? What news? It sounds like you’re having a party.’

‘Dan proposed. Literally out of the blue. We were taking it in turns to say what we’re thankful for, and when it was his turn he gave me a funny look, then got down on one knee and—Mum, we’re getting married!’

Maggie sat down hard on the edge of the bed, the freezing air forgotten. ‘Married? But you and Dan have only been together for a few weeks—’

‘Eleven weeks, four days, six hours and fifteen minutes—oh, wait, now it’s sixteen. I mean seventeen!’

Rosie was laughing, and Maggie tried to laugh with her. How should she handle this?

‘That’s not very long, sweetheart.’

But it was completely in character for Rosie, who bounced from one impulse to another, powered by enthusiasm.

‘I know, but it feels so right I can’t even tell you. And you’ll understand because it was like that for you and Dad.’

Maggie stared at the damp patch on the wall.

Tell her the truth.

Her mouth moved but she couldn’t push the words out. This was the wrong time. She should have done it months ago.

She didn’t want to be the slayer of happy moments.

She couldn’t even say You’re too young, because she’d been the same age when she’d had Katie. Which basically made her a hypocrite. Or did it make her someone with experience?

‘You’ve only just started your post grad—’

‘I’m not giving it up. I can be married and study. Plenty do it.’

Maggie couldn’t argue with that. ‘I’m happy for you.’ Did she sound happy? She tried harder. ‘Woo-hoo!’

She’d thought she’d white-knuckled her way through all the toughest parts of parenting, but it turned out there were still some surprises waiting for her. Rosie wasn’t a child any more. She had to be allowed to make her own decisions. And her own mistakes.

Rosie was talking again. ‘I know it’s all a bit quick, but you’re going to love Dan as much as I do. You said you thought he was great when you spoke to him.’

But speaking to someone on a video call wasn’t the same as meeting them in person, was it?

Maggie swallowed down all the words of warning that rose up inside her. She was not going to turn into her own mother and send dark clouds into every bright moment. ‘He seemed charming, and I’m thrilled for you. If I don’t sound it, it’s because it’s the middle of the night here, and you know what I’m like when I’ve just woken up. When I saw your name pop up on the screen I was worried it was your asthma.’