by Jamie Conner
"Really! Oh, that's wonderful! Okay, Gerard. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for calling!"
Megan's face was beaming as she handed the phone back to Brandi.
"Mrs. Leroux is wide awake!" she said excitedly. "They're still watching her of course, but Gerard at least wanted to share that piece of good news."
"I'm so glad to hear that," Brandi said letting out a sigh of relief.
"Now I can actually start breathing again," Megan laughed. "It feels like I've been holding my breath for hours!" She looked at Brandi and the two of them shared a moment of grateful silence. "Come on inside," Megan finally said. "It's time for me to feed my first house guest."
She practically skipped into the cottage — with Brandi walking behind her and enjoying the view.
"So, how long did Rachel Durand live here?" Brandi asked making conversation while Megan heated up the food.
"I'm not exactly sure. I think she was a tenant for at least four or five years, but my French isn't that great so I may have gotten the story a little mixed up when Mrs. Leroux was telling me about it. Without Gerard being present to translate we mostly resort to crazy hand gestures while we're trying to communicate." Megan laughed at what must have been a very pleasant memory.
It was nice to see her a little more relaxed and smiling.
"Rachel's Wikipedia page says she moved to France in the early 1990's, but I don't know where she lived before she started renting the place from Mrs. Leroux or even how the two of them met."
Brandi walked closer to the large wooden desk that sat right up against the largest window in the room providing a breath-taking view of the ocean.
"I still can't believe how lucky you were to have met Mrs. Leroux. I mean did you ever imagine that you'd actually be spending the whole summer in France and writing at the same desk where your favorite author wrote?"
"I guess I partially have you to thank for that," Megan said.
Brandi turned and looked at her.
"I mean, if you hadn't agreed to share a room with me then I never would have met Sophia and Renee or read my poem at their wedding."
Brandi swallowed hard. For some reason, she was more than a little uncomfortable taking any credit for Megan's good fortune. She guessed it was because the very beginning of that story started out so bad.
"I'm pretty sure your writing talent would have opened the door for this opportunity even if we hadn't been thrown together as temporary roommates."
"Maybe so," Megan said with a shrug. "But in the end, it's all worked out quite nicely."
For the first time since they reunited in the lobby three days ago, Brandi looked into Megan's eyes and there was no trace of the fiery anger that had flared up every other time they got close. Did this mean that Megan had finally truly forgiven her? Brandi certainly hoped so because the smile that was now pointed in her direction was one she never wanted to see vanish again.
***
"Wow! That lasagna was great!" Brandi said as she scooped the plates off the table and walked over to the kitchen area. "If I weren't afraid of busting out of my pants I'd have another piece."
"It would make Mrs. Leroux very happy to hear you say that. She loves to see people eat."
Megan let out a full-bellied laugh assuring Brandi that she was feeling much better. The call from Gerard had lifted her spirits.
"Hey, I can't let a guest do the dishes," Megan said jumping to her feet. She tried to grab Brandi's plate from her.
"Of course you can," Brandi said and playfully slapped Megan's hand away. "Besides, I was hoping you'd read me some of your novel while I wash the dishes."
Megan's face went ghost white.
"Or not," Brandi said quickly and turned toward the sink.
"I'm sorry. It's not you. I… I'm just not ready for anyone to read it yet." Megan leaned against the kitchen counter as Brandi turned on the water for the dishes. "I'm a little self-conscious about it given the fact that I've been writing it for ten years."
Megan paused and the silence made Brandi look in her direction.
"What if it sucks?" she asked quietly.
"I'm sure it's not going to suck, Megan."
"I hope you're right," Megan said as stepped toward Brandi. She took a wet plate out of Brandi's hand and started drying it.
When they finished the dishes the two women walked back up the path to Mrs. Leroux's house. Brandi once again made the mental note to delete the pictures as soon as she got back to the hotel. She was sure she could sell the company on one of the other properties she'd seen, plus she still had another five days to drive around the area and find another parcel.
"Eww. It smells awful in here," Megan said as they entered Mrs. Leroux's back door.
Brandi curled her nose as she got a good whiff of the burnt smell that filled the air.
Megan stepped over the red splotches of smashed strawberry on the floor, walked over to the pot on the stove and looked inside. "I don't think Mrs. Leroux will be serving any of this to her visitors. Such a shame too. Her strawberry jam is delicious." She tilted the pot so Brandi could see the burnt mess inside. "It looks like the pot is ruined too."
Brandi walked over to take a closer look.
"We might be able to save it if I can find the right items." Brandi started opening and closing cabinet doors and looking for something.
"Here we go. This is all I need." Brandi said pulling out a box of baking soda and a bottle of white vinegar.
She dumped out the burnt contents of the pot and poured some vinegar in its place. "Now, while that's heating up," she said turning the fire on under the pot. "Let's get the rest of this place cleaned up?"
When she turned away from the stove Megan was just standing there staring at her.
"What?" Brandi asked looking down at her shirt wondering if she'd spilled something on it.
Megan just started laughing. "It's just that I never imagined you were such a domestic goddess. I mean when we were kids you seemed a little more the pampered princess type."
Brandi put her hands on her hips as if she was upset.
"Excuse me? What does that mean? I'll have you know I'm quite handy around the house. And I'm about to prove it," she said flirtatiously.
Brandi picked up a dishrag hanging from a hook near the sink wound it up and snapped it at Megan.
Megan squealed when the rag popped her on the rear end.
"Oh, you're gonna pay for that Ms. Turner!" she declared with a smile.
Megan stepped forward, reaching for the towel in Brandi's hand, but her foot must have slipped on some of the remnants of smashed strawberries on the floor. Brandi watched in horror as Megan began to lose her balance. Her arms flailed around — unsuccessfully trying to stop her impending collision with the floor.
Brandi lunged forward and caught Megan under both arms just moments before she smacked the linoleum. When she pulled Megan to a vertical position their bodies were almost as close as they'd been when they were on the dance floor at the wedding reception. Brandi could feel Megan's warm breath on her face and the feel of her breasts — heaving for air — rubbing against Brandi's body.
Brandi felt a wave of heat rushing through her. Maybe it was the stress of the day. Maybe it was all the built up tension between them, but all Brandi knew was in that moment she wanted to lean in, press her lips to Megan's and kiss her like she'd never been kissed before.
Chapter 11
All Megan had to do was tilt her head back slightly and stretch upward on her toes. Those two movements were all it would take for her lips to meet Brandi's. With just a little more effort she could press her body forward — pinning Brandi against the kitchen counter and satisfying the aching Megan felt between her legs every time she thought about the passion of their first kiss. They were only inches apart and it would be so easy to do — but at the last minute Megan chickened out. The memory of how Brandi's lips felt against hers was enticing but also terrifying. What would happen if Brandi pulled away — rejecting Mega
n once again? What if Brandi was just doing what she did with all women? Would that make Megan just another notch on Brandi's womanizing belt? What would Megan do if she finally allowed all the old feelings she'd been trying to ignore to rush to the surface and knock her off her feet with just one kiss? She wasn't ready to know the answer to any of those questions.
"Is the vinegar in the pot hot enough yet?" Megan asked pulling herself away from Brandi's hold.
Brandi looked at her with a confused expression but just followed Megan's lead.
"Oh, yeah. I guess we can add the baking soda now."
Megan watched as Brandi poured the white powder into the pot — occasionally glancing over at Megan as if she was still trying to figure out what had just happened.
Immediately the vinegar and baking soda began to bubble and froth in a robust heat-induced chemical reaction. There was an ironic similarity between the chemical reaction in the pot and the one going on inside Megan's body.
Stupid! she chastised herself. But it was too late to backtrack now. The moment had passed and there was nothing left to do now except finish cleaning Mrs. Leroux's kitchen.
It took about an hour for them to get things back in order. Once they'd finished Brandi looked around the room — hesitating like she was waiting for something.
"Well, I guess I'll head back to the hotel," she finally said.
"Okay. Thanks again for everything," Megan replied still too afraid to extend the invitation that she really wanted to.
Brandi picked up her car keys and without much more than a wave walked out of the house, got in her car and drove away.
***
Megan spent the whole rest of the night tossing and turning as visions of Brandi floated around in both her dreams and the sleepless hours in-between. By the time the sun rose she was no more rested than when she'd first gotten into bed.
No use trying to go back to sleep, she thought. Instead, she pulled herself out of bed and stumbled over to her laptop. When she started typing the sexual frustration from the day before turned into a torrent of creative inspiration. Megan could barely type fast enough to keep up with the ideas flowing through her mind. By the time she stopped for a break, it was almost 9:30 am and she'd written two chapters.
Now, having cleared her mind a bit, her thoughts turned toward Mrs. Leroux. Megan took a quick shower and went up to the house to try and reach Gerard by phone.
"Bonjour, Megan!" Gerard answered in a cheery voice when she called. "I have good news! Mrs. Leroux is awake and complaining to the nurses about her breakfast."
Megan let out a laugh. "I'm so glad to hear that, Gerard. If she's complaining then she must be feeling like her normal self. When are they going to release her?"
"The doctor wants to hold her for observation for another 24 to 36 hours but she's able to have visitors now if you'd like to come by."
"Oh, yes! I'd love to see her. Is there anything she'd like me to bring her from her house?"
Megan waited as she listened to Gerard talking to Mrs. Leroux in French.
"She'd like for you to bring her comb and brush and a change of clothes for when she's released." Gerard whispered the next part. "I think she's planning an escape soon no matter what the doctors say. I'm going to stay here on guard and make sure she doesn't sneak out as soon as you bring the fresh clothes."
"Okay, Gerard. I'll call a taxi and be on my way as soon as I gather the things she's asked for."
Megan walked back through the dining room and down the hallway toward the bedroom. She'd never been past the hallway bathroom and she had to shake off the feeling that she was intruding. When she got to the bedroom it was just as she'd expected. Nicely decorated with a bedspread that matched the window curtains. The bed was made — obviously something Mrs. Leroux did each morning when she got up.
Megan opened the closet and fished through the clothes hanging there. She pulled out a pair of blue pants and a matching top with bright colored flowers. Next, she needed to get some undergarments. There was something particularly invasive about poking through someone's drawers, but Megan forced herself to do it.
To her surprise the first drawer she opened was empty. She tried the drawer below it — also empty. She moved to the drawer on the left side of the dresser. There she found everything she needed.
She put the undergarments on the bed and went into the bathroom to get Mrs. Leroux's toiletries. She picked up the brush and comb, a toothbrush and some lotion. Then she noticed a tiny bottle of perfume sitting on the counter.
The label on the bottle read Galimard Perfumery Number 38210. Grasse, France. Judging by the diminished contents it looked like something Mrs. Leroux probably used every day. Megan considered taking it to the hospital, but she didn't want to risk breaking the bottle in transport so she placed it back on the counter and headed back into the bedroom with the other items.
She hadn't seen any suitcases or travel bags in the closet so she looked under the bed.
Bingo!
Just as she was getting off her knees her eye caught sight of a framed photograph sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. She picked it up and there was a picture of a much younger Mrs. Leroux standing next to another woman about her same age. The two were smiling broadly and waving at the camera. Megan didn't recognize the ornate building they were standing in front of, but she was pretty sure the picture hadn't been taken in France.
She wondered if maybe the woman was a sister or a cousin since Mrs. Leroux had mentioned that several of her relatives had moved to other countries in Europe. Megan put the photograph back in its place — making a mental note to ask Alfred who the woman was. She folded the clothes items and putting them in the suitcase along with the toiletries.
She'd just set the suitcase down in the living room and was about to call a taxi when she heard a knock at the back door.
"Megan? Are you here?"
The sound of the familiar voice sent a surprising jolt of energy through Megan's body. She walked into the dining room to see Brandi standing there in the doorway.
"Hi. What are you doing here?" Megan asked with a smile.
"I just wanted to check on you. I saw a missed call from Gerard on my phone when I got out of the shower this morning. I guess he thought we'd be together," she said letting her words trail off into silence.
Was that disappointment Megan heard in her voice?
"Anyway, he didn't leave a message so I just decided to drive over and check on you. You know, just in case he hadn't been able to reach you," she offered as if she needed a plausible excuse for stopping by.
"Well, I'm glad you did. I've got good news," Megan said grinning as much from the news as she was from the unexpected guest. "Mrs. Leroux is awake and complaining — which for her is a good thing."
Brandi laughed. "That is good news!"
"I was just collecting a few things she asked for and was about to call a taxi to take them to the hospital."
Megan saw a frown cross Brandi's face and then quickly disappear.
"There's no need for you to call a taxi. I'd be more than happy to drive you to the hospital."
There was a little hint of sadness in her voice. Was Brandi hurt that Megan hadn't asked her for a ride?
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to assume that you had the time. If you're willing to give me a lift that would be great."
A smile stretched across Brandi's face and then she bent at the waist dramatically.
"You chariot awaits, Madame."
When they got to the hospital, Gerard and Alfred were in Mrs. Leroux's room trying to explain why the doctor wanted her to stay in the hospital a little longer.
"Mama. They need to run some more tests. We still don't know what made you pass out."
Mrs. Leroux waved her hand in the air dismissively and Alfred turned away shaking his head.
"Maybe you can talk some sense into her," he said to Megan.
Megan knew she couldn't express everything she was feeling in French, but she step
ped close to the bed and took Mrs. Leroux by the hand.
"You gave us quite a scare last night." Megan glanced up at Gerard who translated her concern. "I for one would feel much better if you stayed here another day and let the doctor's do their tests."
Mrs. Leroux let out a big sigh.
"Trés bien," she acquiesced. Then she turned to Alfred. " Mais qu'en est-il de mes fraises?"
The only word Megan caught was the last one. Fraises. Strawberries.
"What is she saying?" Megan asked.
"She's worried about her strawberries," Gerard explained. "She makes jam and sells it in the market on Fridays and sometimes Saturdays too. She doesn't want the strawberries in her garden to rot and go to waste."
Alfred and Mrs. Leroux started fussing at each other in French. Her son was obviously more concerned with his mother's health than with potentially wasted strawberries.
"Maybe I can make your jam and sell it on Friday?" Megan said interrupting their bickering.
All heads turned in her direction.
"Or at least I can try," she said a little more tentatively as they all stared at her. She looked back at Brandi for a sign of confidence, but Brandi was just standing there with a strange expression on her face.
Gerard translated her offer and Mrs. Leroux twisted her lip, clearly thinking hard about the possibility. Alton's eyebrows lifted as if he was in shock.
"She's never shared her jam recipe with anyone. Not even me."
After a long silence, Mrs. Leroux looked deeply into Megan's eyes. She was still speaking in French, but Megan could at least understand the seriousness of her tone.
"You have to follow the recipe exactly," Gerard translated. "It's been in her family for generations. If you change anything it won't be the same."
Megan inhaled.
"I think I can handle it. But I tell you what, if I taste it and it isn't as good as yours I won't take it to the market to sell."
Gerard translated again and Mrs. Leroux seemed satisfied with that offer.
