Christmas in Paris (A Master Chefs Series Standalone Novel) (6 page)

BOOK: Christmas in Paris (A Master Chefs Series Standalone Novel)
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Epilogue

 

 

Several Days Later

 

After
days in the hospital, Taryn was released, and two days after that Liberté was
given a clean bill of health and allowed to go to her new home.  She’d already
gained a few ounces since coming into the world and she had a healthy pink
glow.

“She’s
positively beautiful,” Sam said as she picked up Liberté and cooed.  “And I
just love the tiny pink onesie I got her.  It fits perfectly.”

“You’re
spoiling her already, Mom,” Taryn said.  “She has more pajamas than she’ll ever
have the chance to wear.  And look at all these toys.”

“Please,”
Sam said as she cradled Liberté.  “I’m a first time grandmother.  What do you
expect?  For me to just ignore her?”

Taryn
chuckled.  “Can you ignore her long enough for me to feed her?”

Reluctantly,
Sam handed her the tiny gurgling bundle, and Taryn headed to the living room and
the rocking chair Errol had set in front of the grand window that overlooked
Paris and its shimmering lights.  She settled in and gave Liberté a breast.

Not
wanting to be left out of a single moment of her granddaughter’s day, Sam came
up behind Taryn.  “You’re a natural.  Everything seems to come so easy to you.”

Taryn
smiled up at her mother.  “I learned from the best.”

Teary
eyed, Sam put her hand on Taryn’s shoulder.

“I
managed to find a fifteen-pound turkey,” Bobby said as he burst into the
penthouse carrying two heavy grocery bags.  “I figured, if I can’t be in New
York for Thanksgiving, I’d bring Thanksgiving to Paris.”

“You’re
going to make Thanksgiving dinner?” Taryn said with a pleased grin.

“Sure. 
Why not?”  Bobby set the bags down then glanced up at Taryn.  “Oh!” he let out
as he quickly averted his gaze.  “There you go again.”

“Bobby,”
Taryn said, “This is the most natural and wonderful time between a mother and
her child.”

“Yeah,
yeah.  I know, but for crying out loud.  You’re my sister and…”  He gestured at
her chest all while keeping his gaze to the floor.  “I can’t be looking at
those and…”

Sam
laughed.  “You know they’re not just there to amuse you men.”

“I
know,” Bobby cried out.  “I know, but what can I tell you.  While you see a
container of milk to nourish your baby, all I see is…”  He took a quick glimpse
at his sister.  “Oh, brother.”  He turned to the grocery bags.  “If you guys
don’t mind, I’m going to concentrate on dinner.”

Taryn
and Sam laughed at his discomfort.

“I
need to get this bird in the oven if we’re going to eat it tonight,” Bobby went
on.  “And wait until you taste my stuffing.  It’ll be like nothing in this
world.”

Taryn
looked at her little brother and marveled at how he’d matured in the past year,
despite his inability to understand breastfeeding.

“I
also bought a few Christmas lights,” he said.  “I thought I’d put them up to
make the place cheery and bright.  The city has been so gloomy lately.”

“Thanks,
Bobby.  That’s really sweet.”  Taryn looked down at Liberté and stood her up to
put her to her shoulder to burp her.

“When
is Errol getting back?” Bobby said.

Taryn
sighed.  Disappointed he’d had to leave so soon after the birth of Liberté,
she’d tried to be as understanding as possible, but was eager to have him return. 
“If things go well, he should be back today.”

As
Bobby prepared his bird, he flicked on the television, quickly bringing a frown
to Taryn’s brow.  Every day it was the same; he turned on the television to
watch the news, to learn the latest development.  She couldn’t stand it
anymore.  She didn’t want to hear about war, and shootings and high alerts.

Closing
her eyes, she tapped Liberté’s back a few more times then settled her on her
other breast.

“They’re
reading the names of the victims,” Sam said solemnly.

Liberté
began to cry, as if sensing the great sorrow that suddenly filled the room.

For
the next ten minutes they listened as the names of every victim was called out,
every name bringing more and more sadness to Taryn’s heart.

“It’s
okay, baby,” Taryn cooed.  “We’re going through a sad period, but everything
will be okay.”  She looked up to her mother for reassurance.  “Everything will
be just fine.”

Sam
nodded and smiled, but it wasn’t enough to completely alleviate Taryn’s
worries.  She’d hoped to bring her daughter into a beautiful and peaceful
world, and now her country was at war.

“Belgium
was on high alert, but it has been lowered,” Sam said. “And France had started
going after the culprits. The President of France has made it clear he will try
his best to keep France safe under his watch from now on.”

Taryn
blew out a deep breath and said, “I can still remember feeling the stadium
shake. And when we were evacuating, and I realized it was a terror attack, it brought
back memories of 9/11, Mom. Twice I’ve experienced attacks on my homeland.
First in New York and now France. I must admit, Mom, it has shaken me up a bit,
but what can you do? I won’t keep it from letting me show my baby how much joy
there is in the world. How much life there is to live…”

 “It
was frightening at first, but like you said, you can’t dwell on that, honey. 
You have a new life and she needs your optimism, your hope for a bright future
and faith that good will prevail.”

“Okay,”
Bobby called out.  “This bird is ready to hop into the oven.”  He opened the
oven door and slid the turkey in then clapped his hands with satisfaction.  “By
eight o’clock we will have a veritable feast.  Creamy mashed potatoes, roasted
string beans, homemade cranberry sauce all topped off with pumpkin pie.  A real
American Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Sounds
wonderful!” Leo stepped into the penthouse apartment and walked up to Bobby. “I
will finally get a chance to taste the newest hottest chef of New York’s
cooking. Can Bobby’s turkey be better than Chef Errol King’s?”

He
looked around. “You know I came all the way to Paris, me and my globetrotting
jetsetter ways, to have the best Thanksgiving dinner around. So, where’s Errol?”

“Once
you taste my cooking, you’ll be like, Errol who?” Bobby said. “Ummm, that
Thanksgiving feast Master Chef Bobby Cummings made was out of this world good! 
I just might have to invite that handsome young chef to make an appearance and
introduce a signature dish at the Oyster House in Hong Kong.”

Leo
laughed, patting Bobby’s shoulders.  “Nice. I like how you not so subtly tried
to get yourself introduced onto my menu at the Oyster House.  You know we only
feature the very best there. Our patrons have the most delicate tastes.”

“But
I’ve always wanted to visit Hong Kong and the rest of Asia,” Bobby said. “I
love to sample all the cuisines there.”

“That
depends on how well this Thanksgiving feast turns out,” Leo said.

Bobby
shoved a spoonful of stuffing into Leo mouth before Leo could said anything.

Leo’s
eyes opened wide in surprise before he began chewing. “Not bad. Not bad at all.
In fact, this is delicious. What is it?”

“Manakeesh
topped with the sweetness of Knafeh along with some toasted chopped pine nuts
and garlic lamb.”

“This
combination is amazing,” Leo said. “The spices and sauce will add so much
flavor to the dry turkey, and when the Knafeh melts, its creaminess and
sweetness will add the needed moisture. Brilliant Bobby,” Leo said. “I’m glad
you’re willing to try new things and mix it up.”

“I
love all different kinds of flavors and the world opens up the possibility to
explore new cultures and tastes. So…me going to Asia, India, Australia, South
America, the Middle East…I’m open to exploring all kinds of foods and cultures,
and having them try my own blend of New York cuisine.”

“You
remind me of someone when he was younger,” Leo said. “The same zest, the same
easy-going, yet passionate love for all things food.  That same cockiness that
helped him become the Top Chef around the world.”

“You
mean my brother-in-law?” Bobby asked. “I learn from the best. And he married
the best. See that little baby girl over there…isn’t she the most beautiful,
sweetest little baby…”

Leo
and Bobby took a break from the kitchen to go over to hold and play with the
baby right after Taryn brought her back to the nursery.

Taryn
smiled at the two muscular and handsome young men filled the nursery with baby
talk and cooing. Even these masculine guys became mushy when it came to the
power of the baby. The large room, painted pale buttery yellow with rich wooden
trims around the windows and door, didn’t have the usual babyish décor.  There
were no pastel knick knacks, no pink and violet wallpaper borders, and no
shelves lined with colorful stuffed toys.

The
room was elegant, with a heavy and dark oak crib and dresser.  The white
curtains had lovely and detailed embroidery along the hem; tiny white flowers
with a sprinkling of tiny green leaves.  The motif was repeated in the linen
for the crib.

“She’s
falling asleep,” Bobby said.

“A
sign she’s content and relaxed, despite the turmoil around,” Sam said walking
in to take the sweet bundle of baby as Bobby and Leo head back out to the
kitchen.

Taryn
took another look at the tranquil room.  “I’ve been trying to put it all behind
me, but sometimes…  The sounds of those bombs, the people running, the fear…
not knowing what’s really going on… it all rushes back to me.”

A
loud thump sounded from the kitchen, causing Taryn to jump. 

“Sorry
about that,” Bobby called out.  “Dropped the squash.”

Taryn
looked up at her mother.  “See what I mean.  The slightest sound makes me
jump.”

“Give
yourself time, honey.  Like all of Paris, you need to heal.”

They
spent the rest of the afternoon decorating the penthouse, draping it in
shimmering gold ribbons, tinsel and ornaments, while the aromas of Bobby’s
dinner filled the air.

Just
as Bobby was ladling homemade eggnog into small mugs, the elevator doors to the
penthouse slid open.

Taryn
turned to see her husband, handsomer than ever, step out of the elevator.  A
small red cut was still visible above his left eye, but it only added to his
rugged masculinity, while his sharp Armani suit gave him an air of style and
sophistication that she loved.

“Errol,”
she cried as she ran to him.

He
pulled her into his arms, careful of her belly which was still sore and
sensitive.

“I
wasn’t sure you’d make it home today.”

“I’m
home and that’s where I’m staying until you’re ready to travel with me.  I’ve had
enough of traveling on my own.  I wrapped this deal up as quickly as I could,
but now I’m yours, all yours.  Forever and ever, baby. “

“Liberté
and I couldn’t be more thrilled.  I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve
missed you, too, and the baby. Talking about baby, where’s our little
sweetheart?”

“Asleep
in the nursery,” Taryn said.

Errol
walked into the nursery with Taryn and stood there staring at the baby sleeping
peacefully with her thumb stuck in her mouth.

“Now
I understand what the old man was saying. I would do anything to protect you
sweetheart,” Errol said under his breath with tears to the sleeping baby. “Yes,
little angel, Daddy will do anything to protect you and Mommy.”

“What?”
Taryn asked.

“Oh,
honey,” Errol said. “She’s just like you. Beautiful when she sleeps and already
in need of something to hold onto.”

“Isn’t
that good?” Taryn asked.

“It’s
perfect,” Errol said. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.” He kissed her, and
Taryn felt her stomach flutter just like the first time they kissed. Then he
whispered into her ear. “I can’t wait to get you into your birthday suit and
have you suck on something of mine I’m sure you’ve been missing…”

“Oh
Errol,” Taryn had to blush before playfully slapping his arm.

Errol
kissed her again, more heatedly, and whispered into her ear, “Maybe we can
start on baby number two or practice on it…after dinner.”

Taryn
gulped and felt herself flush. How could she forget how sexy Errol was.  “I
wouldn’t mind,” she said. “But first…let’s have dinner.”

 

Errol
and Taryn walked out of the nursery and Errol took a deep breath.  “Hmm, what
smells so good?”

Bobby
beamed with pride as he pulled the perfectly golden turkey out of the oven. 
“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is ready.”

“Well,
I’ll be damned,” Errol said with a pleased grin.  “Now this was something I
hadn’t expected.”

They
sat down to an elegantly set table, with festive china trimmed with red and
gold, and fine crystal stemware with tiny snowflakes etched along the rim.

“This
is perfect,” Errol said as he gazed from Taryn to Sam to Bobby and back to
Taryn again.  “I hadn’t expected a Thanksgiving dinner, but this is truly
perfect, Bobby, because I have so much to be thankful for.”  He held up his
wine glass.  “My beautiful wife, a perfectly healthy little girl and an
extended family that is just as great as any family can be.”

They
all raised their glasses, Errol, Sam and Bobby’s filled with a fine Merlot
while Taryn had grape juice mixed with sparkling water.

“To
Paris, and all its strength and greatness.  To the love of family and friends. Sam,
my wonderful new mom, Bobby my talented and bold younger brother-in-law who
reminds me too much of my younger self, and my partner and best friend Leo, who
knows what loyalty and friendship means especially in time of need. And,” Errol
turned to Taryn.  “To you, my love, for all the joy you bring to my life. I am
grateful to be spending this Thanksgiving and Christmas in Paris with you all.
May we have a safe and loving Christmas filled with hope and joy around the
world.”

BOOK: Christmas in Paris (A Master Chefs Series Standalone Novel)
8.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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