And the Hits Just Keep on Coming

We flew home yesterday. I'm still on French time. I took notes, though. So here we go:

Friday evening, French time, I was able to sneak away from dinner and use the hotel phone -- after mom caught me blogging she decided that the best idea was to schedule every minute of our time together. I've been mud bathed and -edicured into the next decade. But at dinner I told her that I needed to pack and make a phone call and after a staring contest during which my father insinuated that having dessert alone with my mother would be nice and romantic, she conceded. I practically sprinted to my room and dialed out.

"'lo..." Bec was either asleep or sedated. My guess was both. I launched in anyway.
"I'm in France. I'm STUCK in France. I've been laying on the beach for days and days rubbing sunscreen on my scar and hiding under large floppy hats. I've read so many French fashion magazines I want to vomit. Mom decided that the best way to spend our time is joined at the hip and the only thing that came of that is she knows more than anyone about Society Tuesday and I have skin like a baby's bottom. But All I Can Think About is why in the world you broke up with Lars."
"Want to know my theory?"
"You hit your head. Or he hit his head."
"Rebecca - " Yes, I pulled out her full name, "is that what happened?"
"What happened?"
"I got shot. He wasn't here for me."
"Yes he was, Bec. He was there as much as they would let him. He's never been anywhere else."
"Did you hit your head?"
"No, but I'm starting to worry that this conversation is a hallucination. Lars has never been ANYTHING but an amazing boyfriend. He's set the bar so high I refuse to date anyone who doesn't meet or exceed it - "
"Pam, you just refuse to date."
"Bec..." I tried the use mom's warning tone, but it didn't work.
"If he's so great, you date him."
"Absolutely not."
"It wasn't working." She sounded tired so I relented. This was probably a better conversation to have in person anyway.
"Alright. We fly home Saturday. Let me know if you need anything."
"I will."
We hung up.

I immediately redialed out to Madi and then to Lars and got voice mail for both. I, of course, obsessed about it so much on the flight home that mom handed me sleeping pills.

Which feel like they're just now kicking in....

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