Opposites Attack: A Novel with Recipes Provencal (18 page)

Brushing her hair off her troubled face, “You are very mature and kind to accept her.”

He would bet his property that Nelson and Carmelita never ended their affair. He admired Alyce for putting on her blinders. Denial could be a wonderful survival mechanism. Eventually she would figure it out and either leave with a nice settlement and the kids, or take a lover of her own. Then again, he could be wrong. All wrong.

He hoped he was. She wanted marriage, children, stability. She should have them. He would hate to see anyone hurt her.

Especially Jean-Luc Broussard.

They both heard it at the same time: a car pulling up to the house.

“It’s show time.” Alyce sounded apprehensive.

“I will make myself scarce.” He gave her a reassuring hug.

“At least meet them.”

He turned to go up the stairs as they reached the front door. “Not now. We would seem too much like a couple.” He waved her on. “I will come down later.”

She gave him a penetrating look. “You really can be quite wonderful sometimes.”

“Don’t let anyone know that.” He smiled. “It would hurt my reputation.”

18

The Mansfield Mafia

Throwing open Jean-Luc’s front door, Alyce sang out, “
Bonjour! Bienvenue!
”

She felt she should embrace Glorianna first out of respect but Nelson rushed toward her.

“You look fantastic! So French!”

They fell into a little smooch. Not too much with Mrs. Mansfield there.

Alyce whispered a line Julien had taught her; how great it was to kiss him. “
J’ai oublié comment c’est merveilleux de t’embrasser.
”

“Look at my darling Alyce,” Glorianna interrupted. She scanned her up and down. “I
love
the new you.”

They touched each other’s shoulders and air-kissed, Glorianna’s unmistakable Joy perfume that she used like a room spray descended on Alyce like a jungle mist.

The matron of Scarsdale society was wearing a carnation-pink pantsuit made from the finest silk money could buy and a creamy turtleneck (even though it was summer). Thrown over her shoulders was an Hermès scarf.

Luther, her latest assistant, flashed a mouth of big, fluorescent teeth, extended his hand, and over-enunciated, “You do look faaaaabulous. I’m Luther.”

He, too, reeked of cologne and could have passed as the love child of Elton John and Mr. Clean. He was a big guy with a noticeable belly, shaved head, gold hoop earring in each ear, funky purple eyeglasses, and bling that was borderline too much. His linen suit was off-white, his shirt taupe with turquoise polka dots. Slung over one shoulder was a large brown Chanel tote.

“
Enchanté
,” Alyce replied as she shook his hand. “It’s a customary greeting here.”

“I already told him that,” quipped Glorianna. “I’m enchanted.”

“I love the French!” he cried.

Glorianna pivoted her Charles Jourdan-clad feet to flaunt her scarf. Alyce now noticed its wine bottle motif. “Dressed for the part. What do you think, Alyce?”

She searched for a polite response but instead wickedly replied, “
M’as tu vu!
” It was an expression used to describe pretentious, vain people. Show offs.

Alyce cautiously eyed Luther. “Do you speak French?”

“I can kiss French. Does that count?”

Glorianna and Luther let out light ha-ha-ha-ha-has like two hyenas. Alyce attempted to join in. Nelson wore his I-have-to-be-nice-because-she’s-my-mother look she knew well.

“Tell me that expression again and what it means,” Glorianna demanded.

“Um,
m’as tu vu
means… something’s beautiful. Yes, that’s close enough.”

Though Nelson was in his usual khaki pants and white T-shirt under a navy blue blazer, she viewed him differently than when they were together in New York. He might have Carmelita as baggage, a mother she couldn’t stand, be from a social class way above hers, and still have the edginess of Manhattan reverberating inside him. Next to Jean-Luc, he was a safe harbor.

Luther poked his bald head into the living room next to them. “It’s so artistic and
manly.
”

Glorianna stepped in for a closer look and everyone followed. “What it needs is a good coat of paint.” Admiring the African masks, she said, “It’s so nice to be able to see without my glasses. What a wonderful invention Lasik is!”

She’d had cataracts removed, not Lasik. When she had a hip replacement last year she told everyone she had “a minor but pesky procedure on my foot.”

Keeping the momentum going, Nelson said, “Something smells great, Ally. I’m so hungry I almost ate the steering wheel on the way here.”

Glorianna added, “I could use a drink.”

“An excellent idea,” called out Jean-Luc as he descended the stairs. “My sister and her family will be joining us shortly.”

Introductions were made. He graciously said, “It is a pleasure to have you here. Please make yourself at home. After all, it may be yours soon.” He led them to the kitchen. “It is where most socializing occurs.”

Glorianna asked, “What is that wonderful aroma? I’m picking up rosemary and seafood.”

Jean-Luc said with deadpan sincerity, “I thought it was you, Madame.”

Nelson coughed into his fist then whispered, “Where’s the
toilette?
”

“You just walked by it. I’ll show you.”

Grabbing the chance to be alone, they kissed. She pushed him away when he tried to pull her into the bathroom.

“We’ll have plenty of time later!”

He put on an exaggerated pout. She retreated to the kitchen. Glorianna and Luther were commenting on the charm and “rusticity” of the kitchen.

Jean-Luc said, “I spent 40,000 Euros on
rusticity?
”

The hyena ha-has let loose again. Alyce avoided Jean-Luc’s eyes.

Her guests spied the cottage through the kitchen windows facing the back. Luther deemed it “too cute for words.” Glorianna added under her breath, “Look at the roof” and shook her blonde bun-head. Alyce noticed she’d added a bow to her chignon that matched her pastel suit.

While they were turned away, Jean-Luc made a sweeping arm gesture while holding his nose. Nelson returned and stifled a laugh.

“I can see why you love it here, Alyce.” Glorianna said. “There’s so much potential.”

Luther’s tongue was practically hanging out as he ogled a loaf of fresh-baked bread on the counter. “Does that taste as good as it smells?”

“Luther,” Glorianna said sternly.

Soon the guests were gorging on the bread, two local cheeses, and olives. Fresh spinach crunched loudly as Alyce broke up each leaf and dropped them into the enormous pot holding the seafood.

“It’s often added to bouillabaisse in the South of France,” she explained.

The Girards appeared. Liliane gave Alyce an “is everything okay” glance after they cheek-kissed. The boys and Simon warmly kissed her as well.

Liliane was introduced to Nelson. “I have heard so much about you from Al-
ees.
”

“Al-
ees?
I like hearing it said that way.”

“So do I,” Alyce remarked. “Now about that drink.”

She reached for the
pastis.
Jean-Luc had something else in mind. The bottle was labeled Marc, pronounced
Mahr.
He said it was like grappa and made from the leftovers in winemaking, like the stems.

She caught Liliane’s “stop it now” look. When everyone took a sip she knew why. It tasted more like kerosene. Plenty of coughing and pleading for water followed.

The table was set for them to dine
al fresco.
Luther “just loooved” the tablecloth that was bursting with sunflowers against a blue background. “It’s sooo Provence.”

All but Jean-Luc and Simon walked off to tour the property. Alyce turned back in time to see him wet his finger and hold it in the air to see which way the wind was blowing.

They reached the edge of the woods and Glorianna stopped. “This is far enough. I don’t have the proper shoes.”

Liliane brought them to a clearing where they could see the overgrown vines rolling over the terrain. Alyce hoisted Benoit onto her hip so he could see.

Nelson excitedly remarked, “Doesn’t it look beautiful? Imagine it fixed up, Mother.”

In a loud whisper, she replied, “It looks like a lot of expensive work.”

Liliane offered, “That has been reflected in the price.”

Alyce added, “I’m more than willing to do whatever needs to be done.”

She touched Alyce’s arm. “My dear, you always get what you pay for.”

As they headed back to the house, Alyce switched Benoit to Nelson while she and Liliane exchanged a stolen “what a bitch” glance. Alyce chose to focus on how wonderful Nelson looked holding a child.

Their inspection of the cottage began with Glorianna and Luther oohing and aahing over the Tree of Love flowers, sticking their faces in them just as she did the first time she saw them. Glorianna was smiling as she entered her little jewel of a home—until her hand jumped to her throat and her eyes bugged out.

“
What
are
those?
”

Alyce introduced them to her
loirs
(purposely not calling them dormice).

Luther chimed in with, “Yeeeee.”

The boys wanted to play with them. Their mother issued a firm “
Non.
”

Nelson leaned in close. “Wouldn’t you like your own babies?”

She blushed. If anyone heard him, they pretended they didn’t.

Jean-Luc was on the telephone when they returned and motioned that they should go upstairs and look around. As they followed Alyce up the stairs, she remarked, “I’ve only seen his office to use his computer. This will be new for me, too.”

They didn’t say anything. She wondered if she was making too much of not being close to Jean-Luc. Liliane seamlessly told them how hard it was to get on the computers at school.

“We were going to buy more but as students began arriving with wireless notebooks and cell phones that can access the Internet, we decided not to.”

Glorianna airily said, “Didn’t Nelson send you an iPhone?”

“If I want to print things out, like real estate information, I need a computer.”

“What a mess,” was Glorianna’s assessment of the office.

Liliane pointed out its high-speed connection and numerous outlets. “The electricity and plumbing were updated a few years ago.”

They walked to the door that had been locked. Liliane opened it with no key. They stuck their heads in the room for two seconds. Alyce could have sworn the bare pale walls had something painted on them before. She remembered a large white oval. It had been too dark to see. Now it reeked of fresh paint. Where was the photo? Did he know she had been in there?

They briefly inspected the other guest room and then the master bedroom.

“Well, well, well,” said Luther when he saw Jean-Luc’s exotic bamboo bed. “If these walls could talk.”

Glorianna went straight to the bathroom. “Not to mention this shower.”

“Oh my gawd!” cried Luther.

“Do
you
like it, Alyce?”

She suddenly realized how weird it would feel to live here with Nelson. She would always be wondering what had gone on and with whom. Thank God she wasn’t one of Jean-Luc’s conquests.

“It’s certainly different,” Alyce replied.

Liliane’s boys loved it. Apparently they’d never seen much of their uncle’s home.

“I’ll tell you this,” Glorianna knocked on the stone wall, “tearing it out and renovating will be not be cheap or easy.”

“The tile work is magnificent,” Liliane interjected. Their eyes roamed over the floor, walls, and ceiling. All agreed it was gorgeous. “It was done by one of the best Italian masons, an admirer of my brother’s work. Jean-Luc designed the tiles. You would spend a fortune to have it done today.”

Glorianna headed out of the crowded room and haughtily decreed, “Unique or unusual is another way of saying
will hurt the resale value.
”

Alyce could see Liliane’s temper beginning to flare. Was she cursing her eccentric brother or this monstrous American woman?

And who said anything about reselling?

“I looooove the French!” squealed Luther as he lingered in the bathroom.

Alyce feared she would hear him say that another hundred times before they left.

The warm summer evening fell comfortably upon them. Jean-Luc found it hard to concentrate on what these imbeciles were blathering on about as they enjoyed the cheese and rosé wine he served at the long outdoor table. He felt like he was center stage at a Greek theater and the cicadas were the chiding, opinionated chorus.

He threw clumps of wild rosemary, thyme, and white sage on the outdoor fireplace and watched Alyce make a mental note of the practice when he explained to her that it perfumed the air, stimulated the appetite, and calmed the spirit. Nelson had impressed him by picking up a dry New Zealand sauvignon blanc that was superb in its grassiness and the perfect complement to the grilled artichokes, which can wreak havoc with many wines because of a compound called
cynarin
, which tends to make wine taste sweeter. He did not voice any of this to his guests. He was tired of hearing himself pontificating like a bag of hot air.