Chapters (45)
- Cover
- Blame Iton Paris
- Copyright Notice
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Book One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Book Two
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
I stretched my arms up high and rolled my shoulders, looked around at the garden and the family and smiled. I was getting the hang of this, I decided. I don’t know if Sébastien felt like he was getting the hang of it, over there digging up a septic tank for the second time in four weddings, but as long as I held my nose, I was doing just fine. I had gotten this down: two cultures, two countries, two families, the whole love thing. And besides, the hardest part was over. This must be the way Sisyphus felt when he finally got that rock up the mountain. It was downhill from here.
“At least after this, diaper-changing will seem easy,” Claudine said, sitting down beside me. “Speaking of which, where are you two planning to live? I think it would be much better for you to have your first baby in France, don’t you?”