Saving Grapes

by J. T. Lundy

  “And she told me how she would now like nothing better than to get back together with you.”

  “She what?” I stopped moving my feet. I had spent years wishing Laura would take me back. I had longed to hear those words. And even though I no longer felt the same, the news had an effect on me that Jacqueline could clearly see.

  Jacqueline stopped walking and stared at me. “No more words in that snap-happy mouth?”

  “I, I …”

  “I thought so.” She turned and stomped off to her car.

  Her mother lingered for a moment, feeling sorry for me, I think—I hoped.

  “That was not fair. My ex-wife is crazy. Tell Jacqueline not to let the past ruin our present. Tell her I love her.”

  Marjette gave a look to size me up. I hope she could tell I was serious. “Jacqueline has good reason to be wary of your intentions. I think it best that you tell her.” She smiled and whispered. “I will work on her. Come visit us in the morning.”

  I had never been good with parents and I don’t know how I passed Marjette’s motherly test, but thank God. “Thank you, Madame. I will see you in the morning.”

  I walked back to the house, shook up from nearly dying and hearing that Laura wanted to get back with me, but mostly from Jacqueline not wanting anything more to do with me.

  I walked into the kitchen. The Sisters stood side by side at the sink, washing dishes. Laura was putting the dried dishes away. Melanie and Stumpy were placing the extra food into plastic containers. Sister Lucia hummed a tune.

  I went straight for Laura, not caring that the others could hear. “I finally find someone, and you torpedo her the first chance you get?”

  Laura held two plates in her hand and didn’t say anything.

  “For years you’ve been trying to set me up with other women. For what? So if I fell in love you could squash me again?”

  She was strangely silent. What could she say? It was all true.

  “And after years of groveling at your feet—once I inherit a vineyard you suddenly want me back?”

  That got to her. “It’s not like that.”

  “Oh, right, it’s not. I forgot. The asshole investment banker you jumped ship for is now underwater. You’re a greedy pirate, Laura.”

  Her face turned red. She put the plates down and folded her arms across her chest. “And like you’re not, Jason. That’s why we got along so well in the first place, if I’m correct.” She put her arms to her sides. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings for you.” She took a step toward me. “Real feelings.”

  I took a step back. “Stop it, Laura. You show up uninvited and thought I’d be all rockin’ to take you back, but all you’ve done is cause a big mess. I’m sorry, but you have to leave, like ASAP.”

  Sister Lucia was nervous. She didn’t like conflict. Stumpy and Sister Claudette, on the other hand, were looking on with a sort of pride, like they had been waiting for me to tell Laura off and approved.

  Laura dropped her head and started to cry. “My life sucks. I’ve got nothing but two failed marriages. What am I going to do?”

  Normally Laura’s display of heart-wrenching emotions like this would have weakened all my defenses, but this time I remained tough, Rock of Gibraltar tough, something I should have learned how to do long ago. I hid behind my rock and lobbed my final words over. “I’m sorry, Laura. You know you’ll always have a warm spot inside the J-man’s heart, but I want you to leave. Stay the night in the abbey, but please leave tomorrow. If I don’t see you, goodbye.”

  CHAPTER 22

  I lay on my bed in my room, emotionally spent from my arguments with Laura and Jacqueline. I stared at a spot on the ceiling and tried to meditate. Jacqueline had every right to be angry with me. After being burned by a married man, I wouldn’t blame her for being nervous, or pulling back a little, or hell—even dropping me right then and there. But I wasn’t married! Damn Laura for showing up. Calm down. Concentrate.

  I stared at the spot. Relax. This is what it would be like if I were a monk; I’d be confined in a room and stare all day. I sat up. Or if I were in prison!

  There was a knock on my door. Stumpy entered.

  “Everyone gone?” I asked.

  “That was tough, but you did the right thing.” Stumpy fiddled with an old alarm clock on the dresser. “Melanie and I were wondering if you and Jacqueline would like to double-date for lunch tomorrow?”

  “A double-date? Have we ever gone on a double-date before?”

  “No,” Stumpy said definitively. “We never had girlfriends at the same time.”

  I thought about our old days in high school. Stumpy was quiet and kind. The girls liked him as a friend, but few would go out with him. I don’t know if any of the girls liked me, but I was able to whip up the dates through bravado and persistence. I guess Stumpy and I were an odd pair. “It would have been tough to find two girls who would appear in public with the both of us.”

  Stumpy laughed, but looked at me waiting for an answer to his question. I could tell all of us going out to lunch together was important to Stumpy, but I didn’t see how it could work. “We have to wire the cash tomorrow. We can’t be fooling around.”

  “That’s in the morning. We’ll be free for lunch.”

  “It’s not that easy. Jacqueline doesn’t even want to see me.”

  Stumpy looked at me like I was making stuff up even though he knew it was true. “Come on, J-man, you know you can patch that up. Now that you’ve gotten rid of Laura it shouldn’t be too hard.”

  I felt flattered and grinned. “Jacqueline’s a cosmopolitan woman. She sees right through my charades. And she’s stubborn. I say again, it won’t be easy.”

  “Oh you’re killing me, Jason. The J-man’s unstoppable.” He danced around like a TV chef. “Talk her clean, mash and dash, whip the potatoes, and spread the butter …” I loved when he made up crazy shit like this. Stumpy waved his arms wildly. “… Pour on the gravy and it’s Jason and Jacqueline Thanksgiving time.” He slapped his hands together and pointed at me.

  I cracked up. “They don’t have Thanksgiving here.”

  He threw a pillow at me. “They will tomorrow.”

  “Okay, okay, but what about Eustace? He thinks he has that big meeting with Aceau.”

  Stumpy rolled his eyes. “So. He can have that meeting.”

  “How? I don’t know how we can swing it. We would have to get rid of the real Aceau again.”

  “There’s plenty of time. We’ll figure it out.”

  I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling.

  “We have to get rid of Aceau regardless of the girls. Come on, Jason, Melanie’s leaving tomorrow night, and it’s my last chance to see her. It would be great if we could all get along.”

  I could tell Stumpy was thinking about the future and the four of us doing stuff together—and that was nice, and I wanted the same thing—but I worried more about getting along with Jacqueline at the moment. He was right, though, we needed an Aceau plan, lunch with girls or not. “Okay. We can double-date.”

  Stumpy twirled around.

  “Wait.” I held up my finger. “Under one condition.”

  He stopped twirling. “I’m not dancing.”

  “No. God, no. But we have to be prepared at all times. We can meet the girls only if you dress in your Aceau costume.”

  “For the whole day?”

  I started laughing to myself at his discomfort and the thought of him in the Aceau disguise for the whole day. “Yes, the whole day. We’re not taking any chances tomorrow.”

  He closed one eye and looked at the ceiling with the other. “The disguise might make for interesting table conversation.”

  “I’m sure it will.”

  “I’ll do it.” Stumpy hopped up and did a pro wrestler’s slam into the end of my bed.

  The next morning I drove to town early, well, not early for the normal working person, but early considering I was visiting two women in a hotel. I wanted to tr
y and see Jacqueline around nine so I would have time to return to the house to pick up Stumpy. At least Marjette had invited me. I hoped that she and Jacqueline were awake.

  I dressed in my typical Jason Barnes costume and walked into the Hotel Duras proudly as myself. The café was busy with people drinking coffee and eating breakfast. A few kindred souls even drank wine.

  I rested my elbow on the front desk and looked around the small empty lobby. Old black-and-white photographs were framed on the dark green-papered wall. One photograph showed a priest standing with many nuns, and another showed dignitary-like folks in front of St. Sebastian.

  I took a step closer to have a better look.

  “Monsieur Barnes, may I be of service?” It was Peter, the front desk manager. He had wavy blond hair and round, wire-rimmed glasses. He treated his job like he was managing a luxury hotel in Paris.

  “Bonjour, Peter.” I was playing it by the rules today and going straight in. “Have the ladies in room twenty-three breakfasted this morning?”

  “Un moment.” Peter rounded the front desk and went down the hall into the back kitchen. “Not yet,” he said as he walked back toward me. “Their cart is about ready to go up.”

  “Excuse me, Peter.” I stopped him before he could return behind the counter and become more officious. “Do you think it would be possible that I could deliver the breakfast to the ladies in room twenty-three?”

  Peter took off his glasses, and bit on an end with uncertainty, like he was calculating the pros and cons and how much trouble he could get into. I handed him some euros. “I won’t cause any problems. You know I’m good friends with Mademoiselle Thibodaux.”

  The old lanky waiter wheeled a cart out from the kitchen door.

  Peter nodded toward the cart and waiter. “You may deliver the breakfast, but you must be accompanied. And he must serve.”

  Peter spoke to the waiter. “Monsieur Barnes will help you deliver the cart to room twenty-three.” Peter touched my shoulder. “No tips for you, though.”

  I laughed and winked at him. “We shall see.”

  I took the cart and pushed it into the elevator. The waiter joined me.

  “Shall I retrieve a third place setting, sir?”

  “Non, merci. I’m talking, not eating.”

  He patted my back. “You should sing. The young lady likes your singing.”

  I looked at the old waiter. He was smiling. Clearly he had enjoyed watching my courting exploits.

  I knocked on the door. Marjette answered. She wore a neat pantsuit and looked ready for a day of shopping and sightseeing. Shit. I was supposed to give her a tour of the chapel and cemetery. I’d have to figure that out later.

  Marjette smiled at me. I waved my hand over the cart in a grand presentation. “Voilà.”

  She silently waved me in, excited. The waiter and I entered and Marjette pointed to the closed bathroom door indicating Jacqueline was inside getting ready. She signed the room service check. The waiter gave me a wink and left.

  Marjette motioned me to sit down in front of a plate, but I protested. She insisted, and I had no choice but to take a seat at the table.

  “Thank you, Marjette. I really—this is too much. Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Relax,” Marjette said. “I had a quick chat with your friend Stumpy last night. He told me about your divorce, and other things.”

  I must have looked surprised.

  “It’s okay. He told me what a loyal person you were. How you stuck by him when no one else would be his friend. He also told me how you are giving him part of the vineyard. That is very noble of you.”

  “You can believe Stumpy,” I said.

  Marjette laughed. “And Sister Claudette and Sister Lucia spoke highly of you, too.” She then looked at me with a serious, you might say threatening, look. “Jacqueline needs a loyal man. She doesn’t need any shenanigans.”

  Now I must have looked worried.

  “I know you are a funny, surfer-like man.”

  Surfer?

  “Jacqueline needs a free spirit like you, but …”

  Oh, boy, always the but …

  “… you need to be honest. You must be true to her.”

  “Yes, Madame. Thank you, Madame. I promise you. I will always be loyal and true to Jacqueline.”

  “I have some shopping to do.” She turned and walked toward the door. “Good luck.” She opened the door and left the room.

  After another minute the bathroom door opened. Jacqueline walked out in a jumper dress. Her head tilted as she fastened an earring.

  “Bonjour,” I said with as much good morning cheer as I could muster. “Comment allez-vous?”

  She made a startled sound and then composed herself. “What is it with these breakfast surprise tactics? Is that what you American men do—scare the sanity out of your women before they can have a proper meal and think clearly?”

  I picked up a petite baguette and put it on my plate. “I just love this breakfast spread. You’re to blame, you know. You made me try it.”

  “I made you do nothing.”

  “Nothing?” I winked at her. “I remember doing some high stepping in this room.”

  She walked toward me, aggravated. “Oh, shut up, you bad, bad man.” She was irritated, but I couldn’t help notice that a slight smirk betrayed her for a fleeting moment.

  I motioned to the other seat. “Please join me.”

  “Very funny. You are inviting me to my own breakfast.” She looked around. “Where is Mother? What have you done with ma mère?”

  “Nothing. She went shopping. And to be truthful, she invited me to breakfast.”

  I could tell by the look on Jacqueline’s face that she believed her mother had done such a thing. “Where’s the monk costume? I thought you liked dressing up for breakfast?”

  “I do. And I had this nun outfit on, but Sister Claudette chased me down and collared me by the habit.”

  She laughed, but then remembered she was angry with me.

  “I told Laura she had to leave.”

  “No?”

  “Yep. I told her to pack up and get the hell out today.”

  “You really did? Oh the poor thing.” Jacqueline took a seat across from me at the table. “What did Laura say?”

  I poured Jacqueline some coffee. “She cried and carried on like a spoiled two-year-old.”

  Jacqueline tore her croissant in two and took a bite. “And you still made her leave?”

  “But of course. She was not invited, and she caused me too many problems.”

  Jacqueline’s face betrayed her words. “Oh, that is simply horrible. You are such a brute.”

  I took a bite of some quiche Lorraine. “This is wonderful.” I paused to chew. “I had to make her go. And she wasn’t so nice herself—pretending to like me again after I inherit a vineyard. I’m not so stupid. I have to watch out for women like her going after the cash.” I took a sip of coffee.

  Jacqueline looked taken aback. I couldn’t believe she could be so concerned about Laura’s welfare, but I quickly learned she had taken my words personally.

  “Is that what you think about me, too? I mean, really! Mother seems to like you. Why? I have no idea. She thinks you’re fun and have ideas or something, but if the rest of my family and friends knew I’d fallen for a farmer, an American farmer, oh la la the scandal!”

  Scandal? Jeez o-mighty. The way Jacqueline talked it sounded like she was from some well-to-do family. Wow! Jacqueline might be loaded up with the berries. A rich girl! If that were true she might like me just for me. That would put her in a special category right there.

  I smiled at her. “So what I’m hearing is …” I reached out and held her hand. “… You’ve fallen for me.”

  She pulled her hand quickly away. “Oh, you are an impossible man.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so direct. I should have said I’ve fallen for you.” I paused. “I have, you know. I’ve fallen for you, Jacqueline, can you not
see that?”

  “Hmph,” she said, somewhat conciliatory.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so serious. I just, I don’t know, can we just take a step back and start where we were before you got fed up with me?”

  Jacqueline closed her eyes and then opened them slowly. “You confuse me.” She reached out and we held hands again. “But yes, okay. I think I know what you mean. Let’s begin again.”

  I smiled and squeezed her hand and tried to contain my joy. “Say, would you like to have lunch with me here in the café today?”

  She shrugged. “Breakfast, lunch. We can eat all day.”

  “Oh, good. Thank you. And would it be all right if Stumpy and Melanie join us?”

  “Oui, bien sûr.”

  I downed the rest of my coffee. “Speaking of Stumpy, we have an important meeting.” I gave Jacqueline a kiss on the cheek. “I have to go. Shall we meet around one?”

  She agreed. I left the room and I felt like the ship had been righted and we were skimming the sea. It was going to be a good day.

  I closed the door with an uncontrollable grin on my face. I took one step and couldn’t breathe. A thin rope strangled my neck. I tried to pull it off, but everything went blank.

  CHAPTER 23

  When I came to, I was lying sideways on the blue carpeting. A wooden desk stood along the wall. I saw a man’s shoes. I tried to speak, but duct tape sealed my mouth. I looked above the shoes to khaki pants, a pink polo, and Eustace’s geek-like mug. He sat on top of a black and yellow flower-patterned bed. I was in a hotel room, a Hotel Duras hotel room. Eustace smiled maniacally and stared at me. “Bonjour, Jason.”

  I struggled, but I couldn’t move. Duct tape wrapped around my whole body and I looked like a handyman mummy.

  “Today is the last day, Jason, and as of yesterday you still hadn’t paid the court my damages.” Eustace pointed at me. “I’ve been watching you. You’re up to something and I can’t take any chances.” He stood up and walked toward the door. “I’m sorry, but to make sure I inherit the vineyard I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay here for the rest of the day.”