“Who?” Simone set down her cup.
“My brother. Mom told Brandon you’re getting ready to sell, and he’s been dying to move back to the old neighborhood.”
“Brandon and Leslie in this house? Does he know the shape it’s in?”
“Brandon’s handy. The boy can sling a hammer. Anyway, they’ll be here for Thanksgiving. How about if he and Leslie come check it out?”
“That’s fine.” Simone grimaced. “But once they see the laundry room leak, they’ll probably run the other way.”
“Oh, come on, Eeyore, why don’t you let them figure that out?”
“Eeyore?” Simone couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, that’s who you remind me of. I was just reading Winnie the Pooh to the girls, and Eeyore is so glum, always looking for the negatives.”
“Okay then.” Simone stood with fresh determination. “I think that I positively need to get to work if I only have five days to get this place looking good for Brandon and Leslie.”
“That’s the spirit. The sooner you sell this house, the sooner you go to France.”
Simone just laughed. Maybe Andrea had it right . . . maybe a trip to the French Alps was possible. As they continued to sift and sort and pack, she tried to imagine being in France. Sure, she’d love to do it, and to see Avre . . . but flying? The thought of a plane made her heart pound and palms sweat. Maybe she could travel by ship. Did people still do that?
If anyone had told Simone she’d sell Grandma Betty’s house by Thanksgiving, she’d never have believed them. But when Brandon and Leslie made a fair-priced cash offer for her “as is” house, she gladly accepted. They shook hands on it and by Monday, the stunningly huge check was deposited into her bank account. Two days later, Simone found herself parked in Andrea’s spare room, wondering what to do next.
Of course, Andrea now claimed Simone had no excuse for not making the trip to France. No reason not to go seek out her treasure. And on Wednesday night, Andrea insisted on helping Simone book her flight. “It’s super easy,” she told Simone as she opened her laptop on the kitchen island. “I arrange trips for Jerrod all the time, and Wednesday is always the best day to book. All I need is your credit card.”
“But I’m not absolutely certain I want to go,” Simone protested.
“Of course you want to go. You have to go.” Andrea beamed at her. “And I know your passport’s good because you got it before we drove to Mexico for my thirty-fifth birthday last summer.” She pointed to the screen. “See, I already got the ticket started for you. A direct flight from LAX to CDG.”
“What does that even mean?” Simone asked.
“It means you don’t change planes between LA and Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris. It’s a nonstop flight. Cool, huh?”
“Oh?” Simone’s eyes widened. “How long would I be on that plane?”
“Around eleven hours. You’ll leave at 3:20 p.m. and arrive at 11:10 a.m. Isn’t this exciting?”
“Yeah . . . exciting.” Simone could hear the flat tone in her voice. “Andrea, there’s a problem.”
“What?” Andrea continued to fill in Simone’s travel information.
“I’m scared of flying.”
Andrea looked up. “Serious?”
“Dead serious.” She barely nodded. “Remember how Grandpa Hal died?”
“But that was a small, private plane.” Andrea’s brows arched. “And it was a freak accident.”
Simone shrugged. “The point is, he didn’t survive.”
“Yes, but that almost never happens with big commuter jets. It’s more dangerous to drive a car than fly in a plane—and you do that all the time. Even riding a bicycle is more dangerous than flying. You can’t really be that scared.”
“Yes, I can. And I am.” Simone bit her lip.
“But you can get over it. The way to get past your fears is to face them. Do you realize how freeing it will be for you to conquer this?”
Simone shook her head sadly.
Andrea reached for her hand, squeezing it as if to impart strength. “You can do this, Simone. You’re one of the bravest women I know. The way you helped Betty after your grandpa died and the way you hung in there with her through her Alzheimer’s . . . only a very courageous woman could’ve done that. You’re no coward.”
“Except when it comes to planes and flying.”
“Which is exactly why you need to do this.” Andrea held up her forefinger. “And there’s another reason too. Remember the end of your great-grandma’s letter? She said she would only die happy if she knew you’d gotten the treasure.”
“But she’s dead.”
“Maybe she’s up there watching you. You could be making her unhappy right now. Just because you’re too scared to go get that treasure.”
Simone rolled her eyes. “You mean a treasure that probably doesn’t exist.”
“You don’t know that.” Andrea turned back to the computer. “Go get your credit card, and then come back and answer these questions for me.”
Although Simone handed over her card and pretended to cooperate, she couldn’t imagine boarding a plane . . . let alone flying! But she kept her thoughts to herself as Andrea busily typed information into the laptop.
“I just don’t think I can do this,” Simone finally burst out. “I mean for my first flight—being stuck in a plane for so long. Even if I got over my fears, I’d probably get claustrophobic and pass out.”
“Great. Everyone will just assume you’re sleeping.”
“What if I totally lose it somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean? What if I stand up and scream and freak everyone out? Eleven hours on a plane? It’s just too much.”
“Okay, so let’s not book a direct flight.” Andrea tapped something new into her keyboard. “I saw a great deal that connects in Seattle. The flight up there is only two and a half hours. That could be a good first flight for you. Short and sweet.”
“I don’t know.” Simone imagined herself tumbling off the plane in Seattle and never getting on another flight—ever.
“Hey, this is lots cheaper too. Plus, you’ll have a little layover in Seattle. You can walk around, get your bearings, and grab something to eat.” Andrea continued to chatter cheerfully as she changed the arrangements. Before long, the flights were actually booked. “Just think, Simone, ten days from now, you’ll be in Paris.”
Simone wasn’t so sure about that, but since her friend was not taking no for an answer, she just nodded again. What would be would be . . . and perhaps none of this would ever actually be. No one could force her to board a plane!
“Now, I’m sure you’ll want a couple of days in Paris. You arrive on Friday so you might as well stay through the weekend. Oh, Simone—Paris during the Christmas season. It’ll be magical.” Soon she was booking three nights in a Parisian hotel and then arranging train transportation to Avre on the following Monday morning. “It’s a long train ride. Looks like five to eight hours, depending on the time of day. You’re not afraid of trains, are you?”