Chapter 6 — Why the Name Amelie Stopped Conrad
Yvette looked toward the sleeping baby.
“What about her name?”
Conrad smiled faintly.
“Amelie was your grandmother’s name.”
Yvette froze.
“My mother’s mother?”
“Yes.”
Yvette stared at him.
“Mom told me her name was Amelia.”
“Officially, Amelia.”
“But everyone who loved her called her Amelie.”
Yvette looked toward Dorian.
They had chosen Amelie simply because they liked the name.
At least that was what Yvette believed.
Then she remembered something.
During pregnancy, she had been looking through one of Celia’s old notebooks.
On a page filled with recipes and shopping lists, the name Amelie appeared repeatedly in the margin.
Yvette had liked it.
She never knew why Celia had written it.
“Mom had the name in an old notebook.”
Conrad’s eyes filled.
“That would make sense.”
Yvette sat slowly in a poolside chair.
Dorian moved the stroller into shade and engaged the brake firmly.
Then checked it twice.
Yvette almost smiled despite everything.
Conrad remained standing several feet away.
He did not assume he was invited closer.
“You heard me call her Amelie?”
“Yes.”
“And you recognized me from Mom?”
“At first I thought I was imagining it.”
Conrad had been staying at the same hotel for a reunion with old friends.
That morning, he had noticed Yvette at breakfast.
The resemblance to Celia stopped him.
Same eyes.
Same way of tucking hair behind one ear.
He told himself coincidence.
Then he heard Dorian say:
“Yvette, do you have Amelie’s bottle?”
Two names from Conrad’s past in a single sentence.
He almost approached then.
He stopped himself.
“Why?” Yvette asked.
“Because I didn’t know whether you knew about me.”
“And I had promised myself years ago I would never force my way into your life.”
Yvette looked toward him.
“So you watched instead?”
Conrad winced.
“For a few moments.”
“I was trying to decide whether I should speak to hotel staff and leave a note.”
“Then the stroller moved.”
Yvette looked toward Amelie.
The baby was still sleeping peacefully, unaware of everything.
“If that stroller hadn’t rolled…”
Conrad nodded.
“I probably would have left without speaking to you.”
Yvette did not know whether that comforted or upset her.
Then Conrad reached slowly toward his wallet.
“There is something I carry.”
Dorian immediately became alert.
Conrad noticed.
“Only a photograph.”
He opened the wallet.
Behind an old identification card was a tiny faded photograph.
A toddler standing beside a Christmas tree.
Yvette.
She stared at it.
“How do you have that?”
Conrad’s answer revealed that Celia had not cut every path between them as completely as Yvette believed.