Candace Sweet’s Confectionery

by Dee, Bonnie

  “No! That is, I am quite comfortable…if you are.”

  “I am very comfortable, and happy to be leaving the city. In my few visits to England, I’ve had no opportunity to visit the countryside.”

  “Nor I,” she admitted. “My guardian never took me anyplace outside of London.”

  “I am sorry to hear that. Every child should experience much in life.” He nodded at Vivienne. “I worried bringing her on this trip would interrupt her normal life, but Madame Bernard has taken her to museums and historical sites. So I think it was good she came with me.”

  Candace nodded, agreeing with his opinion, but distracted by his accent, the slight mispronunciations of English, and the cadence of his voice. She could happily listen to him speak on any topic for hours and watch him raptly as he emphasized his thoughts with gestures. Charming and French were synonymous in her mind. France, the country he will be returning to very soon, she reminded herself. Don’t get yourself in a tizzy over him.

  As the train clicked past miles, they spoke of candy-making matters once more, coming up with a plan for Candace to at least highlight a new flavor of truffle per month.

  “New flavors keep them coming back,” Alain said.

  “Look! Cows!” Vivienne drew their attention to the view as city had turned to suburbs and at last beautiful countryside.

  They reached their destination and disembarked at Crumbyvale station. The village was as quaint as a postcard with venerable stone buildings and off-kilter cobblestone streets. Church, post office, village hall, and shops surrounded a village green boasting the statue of some long-gone military leader, sword upraised to pierce the sky.

  “It appears everyone is heading that way.” Candace indicated people walking on the road that lead out of town.

  Vivienne clasped her hand and pulled. “I think I can hear the carousel music. Come on!”

  She trotted along with Candace and Alain hurrying behind her. When they reached the perimeter of the village, they could already see pennants and bunting draped tents set up on an open field. Calliope music drifted on the air along with a whiff of burnt sugar and roasted peanuts.

  Vivienne released Candace’s hand and began to run. Instead of calling her back, Alain grabbed Candace’s hand and together they raced after her. The breeze gusted so strong over the open land it felt as if she might spread wings to glide upon it. Her lungs and legs ached from the unaccustomed exercise and her heart pounded with every stride. Every muscle in her body sang from the pure energy charging through her. Freedom felt like removing one’s corset after a long day and drawing a deep, full breath at last. Although Alain’s hand gripping hers went some way toward stealing that breath, she did not wish him to let go. Not ever.

  At last they caught up with Vivienne passing a demonstration of a steam powered combine at the edge of the fairgrounds. Men clustered around the enormous machine, shouting at each other to be heard over the loud motor. Next, they passed pens of prize animals placed so their smell would drift away from rather than toward the rides, games, and food tents.

  “Would you like to stop and see the pigs or rabbits?” Alain asked Vivienne.

  “Later.” With one-pointed concentration, she continued to barrel past strolling fair-goers who lingered around the pens. “Carousel first. … Please.”

  “She loves horses,” Alain explained to Candace as they left the combine’s din behind and could speak normally. “At home, I take her to a neighboring farm where she may sit on an old nag that is happy to plod along with nothing heavier than a small child on its back. I’ve been promising her a ride on a park carousel, but still haven’t managed to go when it is open for business.”

  The moment Alain said the words at home, Candace’s inner flight ended at the reminder their time was fleeting. She let go of his hand. “Vivienne knows what she likes and is determined to achieve her goal. That is a good quality to instill in a child.”

  “I worry sometimes she is spoiled.”

  “No, I don’t believe so, for she never forgets to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ She is simply certain of herself. It took me until this summer to become brave enough to believe my opinion mattered or that I should reach for my dreams. More little girls should trust in themselves as Vivienne does. You have raised her admirably. She is a remarkable child.”

  Alain beamed with pride, making her glad she had spoken so forthrightly.

  They returned their attention to keeping up with Vivienne as the crowd grew thicker. It would be easy for a small girl to become separated from her parent in the throng. Barkers called attention to their games. Men and boys stepped up to try their hand at knocking coconuts off poles with a well-aimed ball, or tossing darts at impossibly small targets. Girls and younger children attempted to throw a ring over a bottle or chose a floating rubber duck for a possible prize. Candace supposed the games were weighted in the attendants’ favor for very few prizes were removed from the boards.

  As Alain stopped at a booth to purchase tickets for the various attractions, a local brass band trumpeted a blaring counterpoint to the calliope music of the carousel. Ignoring the jangled discord of different tunes in competing keys, fairgoers sang along with the uniformed band to the familiar strains of God Save the King. It still seemed odd to hear the word king replace queen after Victoria’s long rule.

  In the queue for the roundabout, Vivienne hopped and danced in place as they slowly moved closer to the ticket taker. There was plenty of time to admire the gilded trim and brightly painted pictures on the roof and center of the dizzily turning carousel.

  Candace bent to discuss horses with Vivienne. “Which would you choose?”

  “The dapple gray with the black mane. She looks strong. See how her legs are leaping forward? I bet she’s the fastest. She would win the race.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Which do you like?”

  “Hm. That’s a hard decision, but I think the white with the ring of roses around her neck. My good friend’s name is Rose so it makes me think of her.”

  “My papa must be the black horse then, the one right beside yours. I think they look good together. The white horse is pretty like you and the other is handsome like Papa.”

  The girl’s compliment and decision to put Candace together with her father tugged at her heart.

  Vivienne pointed again. “The stern horse with a monocle would be Grandpère Moreau, and that light tan mare with her eyes closed reminds me of Grandmama Lambert. Grandmama’s eyes always closed because she smiled so wide. I think that horse is smiling too.”

  “You must miss your grandmère very much,” Candace said. “I wish I had known mine, but my grandparents passed away before I was born.”

  “I do miss Grandmama. I remember she smelled like oranges, but…” The child frowned as she watched the horses slowing to a stop. “I can’t really remember much else about her and that makes me sad.”

  “You will see her again one day in heaven, and she will hold you in her arms as she used to. Your Grandfather Moreau as well. That is what I believe.”

  Vivienne gave a relieved smile. “I think so too.”

  Candace looked at Alain over the girl’s head, praying she had not crossed a line in replying to such a sensitive question. His smile and nod approved her words.

  “I’m glad you came with us today, Miss Sweet.” Vivienne squeezed her hand.

  “I am happy too. Do you know I had never been to a fair before today?”

  “Never? At your age?”

  “I know. I am very ancient, aren’t I?”

  Before Vivienne could reply, they reached the ticket taker and boarded the ride. Since a little boy had already mounted the gray, Vivienne chose an alternate horse. She did so without complaint although her frown signaled her disappointment. Candace slipped onto the saddle of a butterscotch mare next to Vivienne. Alain took his seat on the other side of his daughter. With a groan, the machine began to turn once more and the horses to rise and fall.
<
br />   As the poles drove one horse forward, then the one beside it, it was easy to pretend to be in a race. Alain spurred his horse ahead with a shout. Vivienne squealed and kicked her heels against her wooden mount. The wind whistled around the moving machine, and the holiday crowds slipped by in a blur adding to the illusion of running. Candace felt a thrill at the speed and momentum of the ride. Although she was no longer a child, she gave a most undignified whoop.

  All too soon, the spinning top slowed to a halt, the horses appearing to break their forward momentum. Before she dismounted, Vivienne was already begging, “Please, Papa, may we ride again?”

  “Don’t you wish to try another attraction? I see they have a tall slide.”

  “I want to do that too, but first once more on the horses. Please?”

  Who could resist that pleading face, or a chance at another ride? They joined the queue to await another turn.

  The second time was equally as thrilling, and when they disembarked, Vivienne seized the bit, prepared to charge to the helter-skelter. One climbed spiral stairs inside a circular tower, and sat on a burlap bag to slide down the chute coiled around the outside.

  Candace doubtfully regarded the structure which could be broken down and transported from one fair to the next. “Do you believe it’s safe?”

  “One can only hope so,” Alain said. “If you’d prefer to wait, I’ll take Vivienne to the top.”

  “I won’t go without Miss Sweet. Please, please, please climb up with me. I’m sure it will be fine, and just imagine whooshing down to the bottom.”

  Candace couldn’t resist the child’s pleading and was actually rather eager to have a go, so she gathered her skirts and began to ascend. She did not like the claustrophobic feeling inside the tower and climbing left her dizzy and short of breath before reaching the stop. Behind her, Alain put a hand on her back in order to steady her. For one moment, Candace startled at the unexpected touch. Her mind flew to the night Merker’s hired men had seized and chloroformed her. She dimly recalled the strength of their hands before she had fully lost consciousness. At the memory her heart began beating too fast and her breathing grew shallow.

  “Are you all right, Miss Sweet?” Alain’s voice anchored her to the present. “I’m afraid you’ll have to keep going since others are behind us.”

  She nodded without speaking. Another twist in the staircase found her at the top, emerging from the tower to stand on a platform overlooking the fair. She breathed deeply and took Vivienne’s hand to keep her from leaning too far over the rail.

  Alain joined her there. “You’re quite pale. Was the climb too much?”

  “No. I simply needed to catch my breath and now I have. But thank you for asking.”

  There was only time for a brief view of the fairgrounds, scarcely enough time to realize how steep the drop would be before the attendant handed her a dusty potato sack. It was time to take the plunge.

  One look at the slide and Vivienne stepped back. “I think maybe not.”

  “Chére, there is no other way. People are coming up all the time, we cannot go back down the stairs,” her father explained.

  “Will you ride on my lap?” Candace asked. “I think together our weight will make the ride go faster so it will be over sooner. Would that help?”

  Vivienne continued to stare wide-eyed at the drop, but she nodded. When Candace took her seat, skirts pooled around her legs, Vivienne snuggled close to her. The girl’s warm head pressed firmly against Candace’s chest. Vivienne’s hair tickled and smelled sweetly of soap as Candace wrapped arms around her, grasped the sack and waited for the attendant to push them off.

  “All ready?” the fellow asked. Without waiting for an answer, he gave a hard thrust with the palm of his hand and they were off. Flying for real this time. Candace could draw just enough breath to scream, which she did in unison with Vivienne. The world blurred and they plunged to the bottom of the tower in seconds, where they remained gasping and laughing until another attendant urged them to move on.

  Still giggling, the pair stepped aside to watch Alain come into view on the final curve of the slide. His mouth and eyes were wide open, and he shouted, “Merde!” as the burlap sled came to a halt in dirt, packed hard and scooped into a hole from many landings.

  “Papa!” Vivienne exclaimed. “You said a bad word.”

  He jumped up and handed off his sack to the bored looking attendant before joining them. “I did indeed, ma chère, and I apologize. That was a great deal more intense than I expected. Worth the ride though, don’t you think?”

  Vivienne nodded vigorously. “Let’s go again.”

  “Not just yet. See how long the queue is. Maybe after we’ve done other things.”

  Vivienne started to pout, so Candace said, “I would like to see all the animals. We could choose our favorite sheep, or cow, or rabbit and see if they’ve won a prize.”

  Once more the little girl was all smiles. “I like the games you make up, Miss Sweet. You’re very nice. I think you would make a good maman.”

  Candace froze, not looking at Alain but imagining he was equally embarrassed by her well-meant comment. She wasn’t certain how to reply, but guessed reminding the girl she already had a mother was not the right response.

  Alain defused the situation. “Look, here comes a fellow with a tray of caramel apples. Would either of you like one?”

  With an apple stick in hand and caramel filling her mouth, Vivienne stopped talking as they returned to the animal pens. Alain murmured to Candace above her head. “I apologize if her adoration embarrasses you. It seems you have truly reached her heart.”

  Candace studied a tent full of giant vegetables as they walked past. Anything but meet Alain’s gaze. “I am honored she feels that way. I am very fond of Vivienne. She is an easy child to love.” As is her father. “Look at that enormous pumpkin.”

  Upon reaching the hog pens, Vivienne scratched one of the snouts shoving between the slats of a cage, then offered her apple core. It disappeared as if by magic. She was too short to see into the enclosures so Alain lifted her up and placed her on his shoulders. From atop this mighty mount, Vivienne directed their progress.

  “Oh, there are the bunnies. Head that way, Papa.”

  “As you wish.” He gave a whinny, pawed the earth with one foot, and galloped her to the quieter area where caged rabbits stared with bright, unblinking eyes.

  “Look at their noses twitch. Definitely the lop-eared one for me,” Candace exclaimed. “Just look at the plump, furry body.”

  “Suitable to line a pair of mittens I think,” Alain teased.

  Vivienne cuffed his ears which were in easy reach. “You’re awful.”

  “And yet, you love to eat ragoût de lapin.”

  “I will never have stew again! Not with rabbits or cows or even stinky chickens in it,” she swore. “Will you please let me down so I can pet them?”

  “I will put you down, but you may not put your fingers through the mesh. Rabbits sometimes bite.”

  Luckily for Vivienne, a girl was tending to her potential prize-winner and allowed the little girl and Candace to stroke its soft fur. Candace had never owned a pet nor spent time around animals. Immediately, she decided she should get a cat to keep her company. It would be easy to care for and keep any mice out of her kitchen.

  Alain pried them away from cooing over the rabbits, and they viewed the rest of the stock before moving on to the less interesting fruits and vegetables. Jams, pickles, and baked goods caught their attention, but when they reached a booth dedicated to homemade fudge, Alain and Candace found their niche.

  As they waited in queue to buy, Vivienne beckoned Candace to bend down so she could whisper. “I need to use the lavatory. Will you take me?”

  “Of course.”

  Candace told Alain their destination, and he nodded. “I’ll meet you here afterward.”

  Several primitive lavatories had been erected on the far edge of the fairground. Once more they joined
a queue to wait their turn. Vivienne shifted from one foot to the other, betraying her discomfort, but did not complain about the wait.

  She looked up at Candace. “I know you can’t really be my mother because I already have one. Papa doesn’t think I remember her but I do. She wears a jeweled crown and lives far, far away. I think she might come and take me away with her one day.”

  “Would you like that?” Candace asked.

  Vivienne frowned. “I would like to see her, but I don’t want to go with her. I would miss Papa and Nounou too much. Even though maman is beautiful, with long golden hair and robes of ermine and diamonds, I don’t know if she is very nice. You are nice, Miss Sweet. So I wonder if you might become my second maman. I think Papa would like that too.”

  Another blow to the heart, for Candace was beginning to think she would like nothing better. She’d never considered motherhood. Even the idea of marriage always seemed far in the future. But she was not a schoolgirl any longer, and with Alain and Vivienne she could picture such a life. In her imagination Alain would manage to conduct business on both sides of the Channel, while they lived in London so she did not have to give up her shop. He would travel when needed, but a manager would run the factory.

  Such a sugar-coated dream was ridiculous. Alain was still wed, and he was not in love with her. Not to mention, even in a fantasy world Candace would be the one expected to emigrate. A woman went where her husband’s livelihood dictated. Losing her shop on Providence Street and her hard-earned independence would be intolerable.

  “Are you thinking about it, Miss Sweet? You like Papa, don’t you? And me?” Vivienne’s worried expression made it nearly impossible to say what she must.

  “It is a lovely idea, Vivienne. Of course I like you. How could I not? But your father is already married so it can never be.”

  “You do like Papa, don’t you?”

  “Here, it is your turn for the lavatory. Do you need my help?

  Vivienne rolled her eyes. “I am not a baby. I can go by myself.”