Opposites Attack: A Novel with Recipes Provencal (36 page)

Once on the road, he suggested, “Let us dine and discuss what I should do.”

“Sure you don’t want to do that with Pauline?”

“Not tonight.”

Alyce pushed him playfully on his upper arm. “You go, Jean Ho.”

“Do not call me that. I have outgrown that phase.”

She turned her head away from him and let out a “Hmm.”

They found an outdoor café and ordered
suppa d’erbiglie
and
fricassée d’agneau à la niçoise.
He took a sniff of his cabernet after they had their respective tastes.

“It is like you, Al-
ees.
Its complexity did not strike me immediately.”

“I disagree. It’s more like you. Very set in its ways.”

“We will see about that.”

Alyce accidentally put the cork in her mouth thinking it was a piece of bread.

“You are so funny, Al-
ees!
”

“Ha, ha, ha. It’s the painkiller. And no more wine for me. Let’s get down to business.”

They hashed out the property he wanted to buy from every angle. Was there any way to make it income-producing? He could rent out the cottage. He could possibly rent out some of the land to a vineyard or farmer. Or turn it into a lavender field.

“I should not deal with any side businesses,” he said. “Writing is what I do, Al-
ees.
”

Working off the calculator in the phone she had the use of until the end of that month’s billing cycle, she came up with a budget for him. Any income from writing or teaching would go into a separate savings account.

“It’s the sacred nest egg you never touch,” she advised.

“Yes, yes. I will stick to it, I promise.”

“Don’t rush into this decision, Jean-Luc. At least sleep on it.”

“Did you say you want to sleep with me?”

She pretended she didn’t hear him. “I need to get back to the hotel. I’m fading fast. That anesthesia must still be in my system.”

He was a perfect gentleman when they parted. He gave her three cheek-kisses and bid her “
Bonne nuit.
”

Once inside her lovely hotel room, she walked onto the terrace and took in the picturesque harbor. She loved the idea of teaching at MEF, but live in France year round? She was surprised to find herself missing her parents, and even her sister. She did
not
miss living in Hoboken or a tiny apartment.

She stood in a Zen-like state trying to see into the future. Suddenly something Jean-Luc had said came to the surface. Then she saw it: a crystal-clear plan for her future.

He had suggested that day at the beach that she go to Japan to learn Japanese. Wouldn’t it be nice to spend the summer in a different country each year and learn a new language? What could she do that would allow her to take summers off?

Be a teacher.

But not at MEF. Summer was their busiest time.

She would move back to St. Paul and get a teaching degree. Maybe she would marry another teacher so they could travel together. If not, that was okay. She wanted to live life to the fullest, with or without children, with or without a husband.

She gazed at the Mediterranean Sea that night, committed its image to memory, and said her final
au revoir
.

36

Adieu?

The next morning, Alyce had just stepped out of the shower when there was a knock on the door, followed by a man saying, “Room service.”

She pulled on a robe and said through the door, “I didn’t order anything.”

“A complimentary breakfast from the management, mademoiselle.”

She opened the door and motioned to the gentleman to put the tray on the terrace. He did not hand her a bill to sign and waved away her offer to tip him.

The moment she approached the table, something seemed odd. She sat down, trying to put her finger on it. Wait a minute. It looked exactly like the breakfast Jean-Luc had made for her the morning they went walking in the woods for herbs and he pretended to be a wild boar. Two eggs sunny-side up sprinkled with herbs and nestled on brioche. Fanned across the top of the plate were paper-thin slices of green apple and pear decorated with swirls of cinnamon. Bite-size pieces of
melon de Cavaillon
were just as they had been before.

There was an envelope with her name on it. Inside, on Jean-Luc’s stationery, was written:

There once was a girl from St. Paul

Who had one mean caterwaul

To have it plucked out

She had to duck out

In one hour to the café Mistral

When Jean-Luc spied Alyce, he crouched behind a car parked in front of the café. As she walked by on her way inside he popped out.

“HAH!”

She jumped back in fright. “Damn you! Why do you do that? It’s very immature.”

“Because you know you love it. And I love it when you scold me.”

They got in his Kangoo with Didon in the back and drove to the last house they’d seen the day before. Pauline had given him the key. As they entered, Didon set off to inspect every nook and cranny.

“They agreed to sell it,
with the contents
, for 650,000 Euros if I paid cash. That is not over my budget, is it?”

“It’s an incredible deal. Grab it.”

He waited for a lecture to follow but it didn’t come. Alyce seemed different today. Detached, yet self-assured.

They walked out to the terrace of his future home. On a teak table was a large vase he had filled with the flowers that she loved: jasmine, roses, sunflowers, bougainvillea and
Brugmansia x candida.
Angel’s Trumpet to him; the Tree of Love to Alyce.

He asked her to take a seat on the side with a view of the sea. “Wait here.”

He returned with the bottle of Dom Perignon he had been chilling in the refrigerator, along with three elegant flutes. Edith Piaf began singing “La Vie en Rose.”

“What’s this?” she said. “You bought the property?”

“Not yet. It is nice that the sound system plays out here, yes?” Didon positioned herself at the table, panting happily at Alyce.

“Is that flute for her? I’ve seen everything,” she said. “Oh, sorry, I’m not supposed to talk when that song is on.”

“It’s okay now. In fact, I feel the best I have ever felt in my life.”

She was wearing an achingly feminine floral dress, no jewelry, no makeup; the most beautiful woman in the world. He could not live one minute more without her.

A light breeze came up. She ran her hands up and down her bronzed arms.

“Are you cold?”

“No, it feels nice to have the sea air on me.” She perked up. “It’s like being caressed by nature.”

“Another poetic observation of yours.” And each one a precious gift to him.

He removed the foil wrapping on the bottle faster. As he worked out the cork he suavely commented, “You look terribly French today.”

“You’re not looking too bad yourself. I really love the new haircut.” She hummed along with the song.

Ah, she wanted him as desperately now as he wanted her.

“Too bad I’ve sworn off men and I’ll be leaving soon.”

Bop! The cork sailed across the table and landed in the
pétanque
court. Didon chased it.

Paying no mind to her joke, he said, “From now on, that will be our
cochonet
when we play.”

“When
you
play.”

He poured champagne into the three flutes. “Do you think this place is me?”

“Absolutely.”

He looked in her brown eyes. “Is it you, Al-
ees?
”

“If I had the money and wanted to live here, sure.”

“Why would you not want to live here?”

“I have other plans. Besides, you’ll have plenty of company to keep you entertained. I’d rather not be in the way.”

“I did not mean live in the cottage. I meant live here in the main house with
me
, as my partner in life.”

Her delicious laugh flew out into the summery breeze. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do you think I would ask such a thing after what you have been through?”

“Jean-Luc, I’m… but…” She looked around dumbstruck. “
You
with an American?!”

“Al-
ees
, I cannot believe that I am saying this. I
love
that you are American.”

He set the champagne bottle in a silver ice bucket.

“That’s very sweet, Jean-Luc, but…”

“
But?
”

“I’ve decided what I want to do with my life. It was something you said that day on the island that got me thinking.”

Oh no, he thought. What did my big mouth do now? As she told him of her plan to move back to Minnesota and become a teacher with summers off to learn new languages, his stomach flopped like a freshly caught fish in a bucket.

He finally asks a woman to make a life with him and she says no!

She happily threw her arms in the air. “I’m so, so, soooo glad I didn’t marry Nelson.”

“La Vie en Rose” ended right as she held up her flute. “Let’s toast to—AHH!”

She finally noticed what he had slipped into it and now deeply regretted: the perfect ring for her. It had an intricately woven, delicate silver band with a nice-sized emerald. It said to all who gazed upon it that a woman of quality, worth, and good taste was wearing it.

He opened his jacket and pulled from his vest pocket a rectangular box. “It goes with this.”

It was the beautiful necklace she had admired in the antique store when she thought
solde
meant sold, not on sale.

Her hands covered her open mouth.

He came behind her and clasped it for her. She admired her reflection in the metal ice bucket.

“It’s perfect, Jean-Luc.” She was beaming. “And the story that goes with it.”

He dipped the ring into the ice bucket to rinse it off, dried it with his shirt, and handed it to her. She held it up so that the sunlight reflected on it.

“It’s absolutely beautiful.”

She slid it on her right ring finger. It fit perfectly.

He looked at her as if to say:
Never having made love to you, I still know you better than Nelson ever did.

“I intended to put both of our names on the deed. No prenuptial nonsense.”

She took a sip of the delicious bubbly as she searched for her answer.

“Not too much,” he said, “or you will ruin this proposal, too.”

He moved a chair next to hers as he presented his case. “I love your idea, Al-
ees.
But, number one, it is late July. How could you be accepted to a school in September that quickly? Number two, I will have plenty of free time between books, and you know the only reason you can speak French as well as you do is because of me. To get the most out of your ambitious plan, you would have to have me as your tutor to complement your classes. Now where would you like to spend next summer?”

She pulled back and gave him a look of pure indecision. Trying to read her mind, he rushed in with, “You will be the accountant, but you will give me a small allowance that I can throw away as I please.”

“What about children?”

He took a breath before saying, “If that is our
destiny thing
, we will hire a governess who will live in the cottage and watch our children like a hawk. If it will make you more comfortable, it can be a gay man so neither of us becomes suspicious.”

Alyce cautiously answered, “A child needs a structured environment, Jean-Luc. That’s not going to be easy if Daddy stays up all hours.”

“That is what the governess is for.”

“You can’t accomplish anything if you aren’t disciplined. I refuse to governess you.”

He made an exaggerated sour face. “If you have a routine,
I
will have a routine.”

Alyce mentally tried to change gears and calm her heart as he took her hands in his. As always, they were warm and comforting.

The more he showed a willingness to change, the more he acted like a man ready to grow up and make a commitment, the more he talked about children, the more reasonable and normal he acted, the more nervous she became!

“Eternal happiness is an illusion,” he said, “but that is no excuse to sink into the indulgence of unhappiness. I am tired of playing musical chairs with women. You are the only one I want, the only one I wish to make a new home with—one with no memories from our past. We will look out at the sea every day and feel renewed. I will do whatever I have to do for this to work. I love you, Al-
ees.
More than any other man ever will.”

Alyce’s mind raced for the right words as her skin flushed and heart pounded.

“I must hear you say it,” he said, “that you will live here with me and we see how it goes. If it is an official proposal you want and a big diamond—”

“No! I can’t begin to think about marriage right now.”

Enticingly he said, “I have one more surprise for you. What is your answer? Yes or no?”

“My answer is
whoa.
I’ll commit to being with you for one year. I need proof that you’ve really changed, not a bunch of talk.” She looked at the ring on her right hand. “Until then, I’ll apply to schools in St. Paul for next September and we’ll say this is a friendship ring,
d’accord?
”