Opposites Attack: A Novel with Recipes Provencal (25 page)

BOOK: Opposites Attack: A Novel with Recipes Provencal
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She stopped to watch how the sun at that hour bathed the kitchen in golden light, turning it more yellow, and pointed it out to Nelson.

He looked up for a second. “Yeah, honey. It’s beautiful.”

The Girards arrived first. Stéphane and Benoit loved the photos of the wild boar in the wheelbarrow. Nelson offered to take them to the scene of the crime. Simon joined with the suede gun bag over his shoulder.

Walking away, Liliane turned to Alyce. “Nelson is good with children and easy to be with in general. And he comes from money. I can see why you are attracted to him.” She paused. “Have you made any decisions about the future?”

“In terms of the property? I expect an answer soon. I’m as anxious as you are to move forward. I just have to let him make the final decision.”

“You know your man best. I’ll alert you if anyone else is interested.” She added with a smile, “You killed a wild boar and cooked it! I cannot believe it.”

As other guests arrived, Alyce put them to work grating cheese and turning the slices of
aubergine
(eggplant) roasting on the open fire in the back. Nelson was a wonderful host, too. Being in sales, he knew how to turn on the charm.

They finally sat down to dinner while singing along to the universally appealing Frank Sinatra. They weren’t far into the meal when Alyce heard a familiar bark. A powder puff of pure ivory came prancing toward her.

“Didon?”

Her long feminine face was shaved. Above it was a crown of white, accented with a pink bow. Her paws and the tops of her legs were shorn, too, with a big alabaster puff in between. Her tail was bare with a big pom-pom at the end. Finally, she looked like a poodle. And she smelled wonderful.

Jean-Luc, however, didn’t look so good as he gazed at everyone from the kitchen. She excused herself and went inside. “Are you mad that I’m throwing a party?”

“Not at all. It is nice to see the place enjoyed.”

“You don’t look very happy.”

“I came down with the flu when I was in Avignon.”

“What made you go there?”

“My editor.”

“Ah. How is she?”


He
is fine.” He noticed the ring dangling from her neck. “Are you betrothed?”

“Yes.” It came out with a defiant edge.

His pale blue eyes burned into her. “He did not know your ring size?”

She archly responded, “That’s not unusual. I can get it fixed.”

He took it in his hand, inspected it. “But of course it would be vulgar.”

She snatched it from him. “But of course you would say that.”

“What are you serving?”

She lit up. “A wild boar I shot in the woods while gathering herbs.”

He didn’t believe it. She showed him the photos.

“I would not miss this meal for anything. How did you make it?”

When she told him she used white wine, he made a face of disapproval.

“Eduard told me to do that!”

“Hmpf. He was, how do you say, messing with your mind?”

“Wait until you try it, Mister Never Wrong.”

He took out a silver spoon and tried a bite, savoring it as though it were an $800 bottle of wine. “Hmmm.”

“Well?”

“Not bad. Too much brandy. Did you flambé? Light it?”

“I just poured it in.”

“You need to flambé. It makes it smoother.” He took another bite. “Not enough deglazing. A daube is all about deglazing. But for a first try, I am impressed.”

Coming from Jean-Luc, that was indeed a compliment.

He came outside and warmly said, “Salutations, friends. Welcome.” There was no need to say who he was.

She moved from the end, opposite Nelson, so that Jean-Luc and Nelson could face each other. It didn’t seem right for either one to step down from their positions of power. She squeezed in a chair to Nelson’s left, cater-cornered.

Soon she was regaling Jean-Luc with the boar story after apologizing to everyone for repeating it.

Ulrike called out, “It is too good not to repeat!”

This time Alyce left in the part about peeing while in the tree. She knew Jean-Luc and the little boys would love it, and with all the drinking, everyone roared with laughter.

All but Nelson. When she was done with the story he cleared his throat, leaned into her and said, “You can edit out the peeing part in the future, dear.”

It stung her to hear him say that. Okay, they were eating. With strangers. Maybe it was inappropriate. Still she hissed back, “It’s not like your mother is here. Lighten up.”

Throughout the meal, Alyce watched Jean-Luc expertly draw out of everyone what he wanted to know, like a surgeon in the operating room. He started with the Indian woman, Gitali, whose marriage had been arranged. He explained to his nephews what that meant.

A crestfallen Stéphane said, “Your parents tell you what to do
forever?

Gitali seemed genuinely happy about it.

“I can’t imagine marrying someone I didn’t know well,” Alyce commented.

Jean-Luc pointed out that 50% of all American marriages end in divorce and the rest are of questionable quality.

Nelson said, “That’s your dismal view.”

“Yes, Jean-Luc,” Alyce concurred. “Must you look at everything through a cracked window?
La Vie en Rose!
Put on some rose-colored glasses.”

“Some of the best unions I’ve ever seen were arranged,” he argued.

He took a poll around the table and Alyce was surprised that half of the guests agreed arranged marriages were perfectly acceptable, including Nelson.

She shook her head. “Not for me.”

“But you are so practical, Al-
ees.
You are driven by logic and numbers. Why wouldn’t it appeal to you?”

“It just doesn’t.”

“Knock it off, Frenchie,” Nelson nearly yelled at him.

Everyone momentarily stopped talking. Oh no, Alyce thought. Nelson’s had too much to drink. Jean-Luc seemed almost pleased that he had succeeded in getting him to blow his cool.

Jean-Luc shifted his focus to the Japanese woman and her religious beliefs. He startled her when he said, “I sense you do not practice Shinto, Buddhism, or Confucianism.”

“Yes, you are right. But how did you know?”

“Intuition.”

She was a Catholic, unusual for someone born and raised in Japan. An intense discussion about religion followed until Alyce said, “Jean-Luc, in America we say there are two things you should never discuss at dinner. Politics and religion.”

“You would like me to keep the conversation nice and dull? Perhaps you will like this joke instead.” He eyed his nephews. “On second thought, never mind.”

Liliane rose. “It is time for us to be going anyway.”

The boys protested but Simon agreed it was past their bedtime. When he and Jean-Luc cheek-kissed goodbye, he whispered, “Tell me the joke later.”

Once tender ears were gone, Jean-Luc resumed.

“An American woman had a facelift. She went to a McDo’s. That’s McDonald’s to some of you. She asked the boy behind the counter, ‘How old do you think I am?’ He said, ‘Uhhh. Thirty?’ She exclaimed, ‘I’m 47!’ She asked a shopkeeper the same question. The woman said, ‘Oh… 35?’ She was thrilled. Then she sat on a park bench and a man sat down next to her. She turned to him. ‘How old do you think I am?’ He replied, ‘I can tell your exact age if I feel under your blouse.’ She was taken aback but agreed. He reached under her shirt, then under her bra and felt around for some time. Finally he said, ‘Forty-seven.’ She gasped. ‘How did you know?’ He said, ‘I was standing behind you at McDo’s.’”

It brought the house down (except for Nelson) and set off a round of silly jokes poking fun at every culture.

Despite Nelson’s edginess, Alyce didn’t want the night to end. Neither did the female guests who acted in Jean-Luc’s presence like sun-starved house plants that had been moved outdoors.

Around 11:00, he pulled her aside. “Serve the orange juice.”

“What orange juice?”

“It is how you let guests know it is time to leave.”

He kept frozen concentrate on hand for emergency situations, though it pained him to serve anything of such mediocre quality.

Ulrike and Jutta stayed to clean up, though Alyce sensed they really wanted to hang with Jean-Luc. When he said goodnight and went upstairs, they quickly finished the dishes and left.

Didon would not lie down in her old place. She moved to the other side of the kitchen and watched Alyce, chest out, front paws delicately crossed.

Alyce was jolted from her good mood when, back in the cottage, Nelson said, “I don’t want you staying here after I leave. I’m putting you in a hotel until school is over.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She held up the ring. “We’re engaged, remember?”

“I don’t trust Jean-Luc.”

Her mother always told her: “Pick your battles.”

“I’ll do it to make you happy, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“We’ll see about that.”

 

25

Triangles

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Alyce asked Jean-Luc the next morning as she made café crèmes for everyone.

“No, I am not okay, Al-
ees.
I am dying for a cigarette but have vowed to quit.”

“That’s great to hear. I know you can do it.”

That only made him feel worse.

Nelson nodded at the bag with the shiatsu neck massager they had given him, much to his delight. “Try it out. Maybe you’ll forget about smoking.”

“Maybe after I have a cigarette.”

Nelson impatiently checked the time on his cell.

“The croissants will be ready in 10 minutes,” she said stiffly.

“I’m going to miss that smell.”

She poured his coffee. A distinct tartness flavored, “All the more reason to come back right away.”

He matched her with, “How did you know that’s exactly what I was thinking?”

There was a new tension between the lovebirds. She would not look directly at Jean-Luc.

“The coffee is perfect, Al-
ees.

“Beginner’s luck again?” she asked.

“You are not a beginner anymore.”

She told Nelson how she was able to crack an egg with one hand on her first attempt.

“How nice.”

He could feel his devilish side ready to erupt. It vanished when Nelson said, “Alyce will be moving into a hotel today.”

She pounded coffee grounds from the espresso maker into the garbage, her back to them.

“You did not like it here?”

Alyce turned. “Oh, no. We love it here.”

“I see.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Now that you are engaged…”

“Exactly,” said Nelson. “See, Ally? It’s the appropriate thing to do.”

“Fine!” she cried as though it wasn’t at all, giving Jean-Luc a shred of hope.

“Tell me, Nelson. What does your son and his mother think of you buying property here?”

Alyce looked intensely curious as she settled on her stool.

He cleared his throat, shifted in his seat. “That’s a good question, Jean-Luc. Since I need to use all the vacation time I’ve accrued or lose it, I was thinking of bringing them over in a couple of weeks so Junior doesn’t feel left out.”

He could feel Alyce’s temper rise when she said, “Why not just bring
him
over.”

He shifted again, took another sip of coffee to buy time. “We better see how this is going to work with all of us, Ally. Plus, she wouldn’t want to be away from him that long.”

“Maybe it would do them both good to be apart for
once.

“Let’s discuss this while I finish packing.” He stood up with his coffee.

She forced a smile. “I need to keep an eye on the croissants.”

After he left for the cottage, Jean-Luc hummed “La Vie en Rose.”

“Not one word out of you!”

“Now, now, Al-
ees.
Are you not glad I brought it up?”

How he had come to love her glare.

He pulled the massage device out of the bag. “Shall we give it a test run in my bedroom?”

“Go right ahead.”

“I want you to help me.”

“All you do is plug it in and turn on the power button.” She pointed at the device. “If you want the balls to roll this way, push this. If you want—”

“I want you to show me. Set the timer so you don’t burn the croissants.”

As Alyce found an electrical socket near his bed, he pulled apart the red panels hanging from its frame and climbed on the spacious king-size mattress. She positioned the machine behind his head so he could nestle his neck into the space between the two balls.

“Shit! This hurts!” Alyce jumped to turn the switch off. Immediately he grabbed her arm and did not let go. “Don’t touch it! I love it! Ohhhhhhhh. Now make the balls turn the other way. Yeeeeeees. It’s like a big Swede pummeling my neck. Brunhilda! That’s what I will call it. Aaaahhh.”

She was giggling with delight and within moments he could feel the tension releasing, not just from his neck. Though he hated that it came from Nelson, he absolutely adored it.

He couldn’t help himself. He pulled her to him but the grinding balls made the effort quite comical as she resisted. He rolled off Brunhilda, turned her off, and tried to kiss Alyce again.

“No!”

“How can you slay a wild boar
and
cook it to perfection and not expect me to fall madly in love with you?”

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