Opposites Attack: A Novel with Recipes Provencal (26 page)

She did not jerk away. She looked sad.

He said softly, “When you said you had to have your engagement ring re-sized, were you talking about the diamond as well as the band? That jewel is just not you. It is more his mother.”

She confessed it wasn’t real and why. “I can understand his reasoning.”

He thought it was the most insane thing he’d ever heard. “What else is troubling you—other than Carmelita and Junior?”

She reached for his hand. He was sure his heart was going to act up on him again. He held it tightly to convey
I am here for you in whatever way you need me to be.

She did not confess what he wanted to hear: that she was hopelessly in love with him. Instead she said that she felt as though a flashing neon light went off in Nelson’s brain that said GET MARRIED NOW and she happened to be there and would do.

“It is a question that has confounded mankind for millennia,” he said. “Can you fall in love if you do not believe wholeheartedly that you want to do so? Or do you meet someone and then you want it?” He let go of her hand. “Either way, I would not lose sleep over it. He wants you to marry him. I pray to God he feels
something.
”

He turned his massager back on, rested his neck between the grinding balls. “Al-
ees
, I am the last person you should consult on this matter.”

He felt his throat closing up on him. He rested a hand over his heart, a feeble form of protection.

As she rose to leave, she said, “We only experience through contrast, right?”

“Very good. Who said it?”

She smiled. “Montaigne.”

He smiled even more. He waited a moment before saying, “There is one comment I would like to make. Because of your lifelong rivalry with your sister, I think you are drawn to competitive triangles. Nelson’s baggage, as you call it, may ironically give you a certain comfort. It is familiar.”

Her eyes widened as she took that thought in.

“Every relationship has a third force at play somewhere. It is what creates the glue to keep it together. Too much, though, can create unbearable friction. You must decide what you can live with. Now tell me, how did he propose?”

It wasn’t as trite as he had imagined, nor was it that special. What made it unusual was her throwing up! The combination of her now being engaged coupled with the hilarity of the story caused a new sharp ache in his chest.

Gasping for air, he begged, “You must leave before I have another attack.”

“Attack?”

“
Merde.
”

“What?”

“I damn near died because of my feelings for you.”

He filled her in on the details of his cardiomyopathy as she gaped in horror. Her voice cracked. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me to marry Nelson.”

“I do not want another man to even look at you! But I cannot give you what you need, Al-
ees.
I cannot be the perfect reliable husband and father. When I am creating, I am not a responsible person.”

“But I’m responsible! You write and I’ll take care—” She abruptly stopped.

Aha! He was filled with euphoric delight until reality hit him.

He sat up, cupped her face in his hands. “There is nothing I would love more than to watch you blossom over the decades.”

Her arms slid slowly, limply to her sides.

“You are the most fragrant flower I have ever inhaled, and in the next moment you are a tetanus-infested rusty nail that has impaled my foot, and in the next you are teaching
me
what I need to learn! Al-
ees
, you
fascinate
me.” He tenderly grabbed her hair, certain it would be the last time he touched it. “But I would not be good for you.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this.”

He changed his tone as he whispered into her ear. “This is for your benefit, not mine. I do not think you are in love with Nelson, my Al-
ees.
You are in desperate
fear.
You know it is all a charade. Honey, sweetie, honey. You think you are being sensible
and
living every girl’s dream to win the heart of the man who won hers first. You will be nothing but a pawn to him and his evil mother. Is that what you want?”

She pulled away, so shocked by what he’d said that her hands flew to her chest.

A familiar smarmy voice said, “Excuse me for interrupting.”

Alyce jumped up. Jean-Luc tried to save the situation by saying to Nelson, “I was just telling her about the heart problem I had when I was away.”

“Really? You had to whisper it in her ear?”

“We are just friends, I assure you. An old girlfriend is coming to take care of me.” A lie.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Alyce said with a shade of jealousy. Or was it anger? Her face and chest were flushed.

The oven timer sounded its alarm.

Back in the cottage, it didn’t take long for harsh words to fly.

“I’m staying here until whatever crazy woman he’s using shows up. He’s not well.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re bringing Carmelita here and have the nerve to say that?”

“Why are you upset all of a sudden? You told me you were okay with her.”

Alyce negotiated with Nelson that she would move into a hotel as soon as she let the
loirs
go.

“They need a little more time,” she said. “I have to make them a nest, ideally in a hollowed-out tree.”

Nelson had become attached to the baby dormice as well. Calmer now (oh how she loved that he didn’t stay angry for long) he said, “Okay, honey.” With a warm hug, “It’s a good sign your mothering instincts are so strong.” He let go. “But why can’t Jean-Luc or his lady friend take care of them?”

“He has responsibility issues. I wouldn’t trust him to follow through. And no other woman will see to them the way I do. The last one killed the mother!”

Right there she knew Jean-Luc could not give her what she wanted, if she was capable of thinking that. And did he really love her, or did he just want to get her in the sack? His line about her being in fear, not love, had to have been a selfish ploy. She kicked herself for falling for him. It had happened in such a sly, come-from-behind way, she hadn’t even realized it until she stupidly blurted out that line about her taking care of everything.

She gazed at Nelson adoringly and thought of how lucky she was to have him.

They agreed she’d drive him to the airport and keep the car he’d rented. She wondered to herself how much longer she’d be (secretly) paying for the car Jean-Luc was using. She hoped this new woman had her own wheels.

As they were loading Nelson’s luggage in the BMW, she noticed a funny-looking red car in the driveway that wasn’t the one she had rented.

“It’s a Renault Kangoo,” Nelson said. “A minivan used for people with wheelchairs but its high interior and boxy look caught on with the public. I think it’s kind of fun. Jean-Luc’s?”

“Just a minute, honey. I’ll be right back.”

The word
honey
jumped out at her in a way it hadn’t before, like a big rock on a smooth road. Damn that Jean-Luc.

She found him at his computer. “Where’s my car?”

“I returned it and put a down payment on a car with a check Raymond had for me. Do you like it? I’m waiting for another one to pay you back. I didn’t want to cost you another dime.”

It was time to get to the bottom of Jean-Luc’s finances. “There was something in the mail from a Swiss bank. Have a secret account there?”

He stopped clicking his mouse, turned around and said as nicely as he could, “What else did you go through when I was away?”

She straightened up. “I brought in your mail. It was on top.”

“A wealthy woman who was madly in love with me—the affection not returned—left me 10,000 Euros a year in her will. I refuse to spend it on myself. Now that I know it has arrived, I will reimburse you, plus interest.”

Like the woman sporting an engagement ring who came back to get her Lexus, Alyce was astounded to have a sudden change of heart. “What you taught me was worth every penny.”

He gave her an assessing look. “Are you sure your wonderful Nelson is that worthy of the new you?”

“Oh, shut your pie hole.”

He threw his head back and laughed, causing Alyce to light up inside.

Grabbing a pen and paper, he asked, “Is pie hole one word or two?”

With that she was out the door.

Too soon she and Nelson were having their last lingering good-bye kiss at the Nice airport. Hugging her as though she were the last woman alive, he said, “If you want to stay in the cottage, that’s fine. I have to trust you, too.”

What an amazing guy he was. So what if she had to share him once in awhile. If she was with Jean-Luc, she’d be competing against Colette all the time. It was fine.

Really, it was fine.

26

Drenched in Failure

Alyce was summoned to Liliane’s office.

“Two things. First, my brother.” She explained that Jean-Luc had to stay focused on writing his memoir and stay healthy. “He told me you know about his medical scare. He must take better care of himself or the next time it will be worse.”

“That’s up to him.”

“True, but you are a good influence in getting him to exercise.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Second, he has an opportunity to teach at the local university. If he does not have the book proposal done in a week he must take the job. All he needs is an outline and one or two chapters. I know he will be miserable in the world of academia, and make everyone miserable around him. Please, if there is anything you can do to get him to write that proposal, do it.”

Alyce sat back. “Me?”

“You have a special way with him.”

“No, I don’t. Besides, he said an old girlfriend was coming to be with him.”

“That is news to me.”

Liliane called him. At one point in their conversation her mouth twisted ever so slightly. Alyce heard her say, “You and your
harmless
white lies.” She hung up. “He said that to appease Nelson, who walked in on you two and thought something was going on.”

She could feel her face grow warm. “Nothing was going on, I swear!”

Liliane clasped her hands and said as though there would be no further discussion, “I have even more faith that you can do this.”

Liliane eyed Alyce’s ring still on a chain necklace. “You can take that to André to have it fitted properly. That is, if you stay engaged. His mother is not someone I could put up with.”

“She’s the least of my worries. Wait until you meet the mother of Nelson’s son.”

She prodded Alyce about the other topic she wanted to discuss: the Mansfield’s interest in the property.

“A decision will be made soon,” Alyce said, “The Mansfield Mafia, I mean, Express, is about to arrive. Nelson, Glorianna, Luther, plus Nelson’s son and his mother Carmelita.”

Liliane visibly paled as her mouth dropped.

“I know, I know,” said Alyce. “A real cluster fuck, as they say in America.”

Liliane poked the air the way Jean-Luc did when he was upset. “You must keep Jean-Luc focused on his writing! You must! Now what was that charming term you used?”

“Cluster fuck?”

She threw her head back and laughed, reminding Alyce of Jean-Luc. “I love it!”

“Glorianna’s pronunciation would be different, though.” She mimicked her future mother-in-law’s head toss and bun-pat perfectly, and said in an uppity tone, “
Clustier fouquoi.
”

Liliane clutched her pregnant tummy as she repeated, “Cloo-stee-
ay
foo-
kwa.
”

Alyce took advantage of the light moment. “Uh, Liliane. On a more serious note. Right before I encountered the boar the other day, I saw a headstone. It was blank. It also looked fairly new. Any idea whose it is?”

“A headstone? No.”

“Could it be Colette?”

“Who?”

“The love of his life, I thought.”

She looked surprised. “He told you this? He must have been joking.”

He was drunk at the time so maybe he was. “Then whose grave is it?”

Now looking perplexed, Liliane thought for a bit before saying, “He may have buried his other dog there that died last year and did not want me to know. A headstone is expensive.”

“Please don’t ever ask him about it!”

A confused Liliane tossed her auburn hair. “I will try to remember not to mention it.”

“If you hear anything about her, you’ll tell me?”

“Colette. You have my word.”

Jean-Luc was sitting up in bed with boxes of photos around him, studying one picture. He felt strangely detached from the young man with dark hair blowing in the wind while on a Greek tycoon’s enormous yacht, a raven-haired beauty at his side.

Thekla. That was her name. They spent a month twisted in the sheets in her family’s estate on Crete while her parents were away. No matter what she did to amuse him, no matter what gifts she gave him (especially that), he lost interest.

What was his age then? Nineteen. Half his age now.

He squinted and tried to see himself at double his current years: 76.

He gazed at Didon under the window, basking in the sun shining through it. What would it be like if humans only lived as long as dogs?