“It’s too far,” Camille said. “You’re not up to a trip like that. What if something happens?”

“I have responsibilities. And I must go now—this summer.”

He didn’t add “before I die,” but it was implicit. His cancer was in remission, yet both Camille and her father knew the possibility of a recurrence was extremely high. His care team had warned them of that.

She tried not to panic. “You should do exactly what you want, of course. But are you sure the doctor gave you the green light? Did you tell her you mean to fly overseas and visit a tiny village in France? Is she okay with that?”

His gaze shifted.

“Papa.”

“I bet you didn’t tell her,” Julie chimed in.

“It’s too soon,” Camille protested. “You can’t go jetting off all by yourself.”

“And that, my poppet, is the reason I want you and Julie to come to France with me for the summer.”

“Cool,” said Julie.

Camille’s reaction was swift and visceral. “Out of the question.”

“Why is it out of the question?” asked Julie.

“It’s too far, and we can’t stay away so long.” Camille felt a twist of fear deep in her gut. She had not gone anywhere in ages. She knew it was irrational, but the very idea of getting on a plane made the blood freeze in her veins.

“Mom, we have to do it,” Julie said.

“We’ve never missed a summer in Bethany Bay. It’s the best time of the year.”

Julie laughed. “You’re kidding, right? I’d do anything to get out of here.”

“Jules, the answer is no. Papa, I hope you can understand.”

“If you don’t come with me,” he said, “then I shall have to go alone.”

Great. If she didn’t go, she would be sending her aging father off on some crazy quest to revisit the past. Daughter of the year, she thought. That’s me. “Let’s find someone else to go with you. Lamont would jump at the chance.”

“No,” he said. “Not Lamont. He’s staying here to look after the house while I’m away.”

“Mom,” said Julie. “We have to go.”

“Indeed we do,” her grandfather agreed.

“When can we leave?” Julie asked, practically bouncing up and down in her chair.

“Papa,” Camille objected. “You can’t just declare we’re going to France without consulting me.”

“Consider this your consultation.”

“Thank you. Unfortunately, we can’t swing it, Papa. I’ve got work—”

“I already thought of that.” He held up a hand, palm out. “Your mother agrees that you can take the summer off from the shop. She and the staff will cover your duties for the entire season this year.”

“Wait, you talked to Mom?” Camille bristled.

“She agrees with me entirely. This is long past due. I’ve already spoken to Billy as well. He says he can take care of any projects that come your way. He’s hired an intern.”

“He told me about the intern, but he didn’t say why. The rat fink. I thought he was kidding. He’s crazy if he thinks an intern can simply step in and start processing film.”