“You’re here,” Ty said when they were seated in the back of the cab. They both sat to the right on the rear seat, Léonie closest to the middle.
“What are you doing at the airport? And all dressed up? Does that mean tonight was your night? The award night, I mean?”
Ty nodded and pointed to the new adornment on his coat.
“Oh,” Her finger brushed over the star. “It’s beautiful. Were you here dropping someone off?” Her eyes flicked from the star to his face in a question.
“No,” Ty shook his head. “Picking someone up.”
Léonie looked over his face, “You mean they didn’t show?”
“She showed. Right on time, too. I guess I didn’t get the full itinerary. I thought I was supposed to be on a flight headed for Paris tonight. I had no idea that Paris was coming to me.” Ty exhaled into the car and breathed in Léonie’s perfume.
Ty looked forward to see the driver bopping his head to music.
He turned back to the woman next to him. Ty’s features turned very serious and he felt an overwhelming rush of anxiety.
“Léonie,” He touched her chin and she looked up into his eyes.
“I was coming to find you. I mean…I didn’t know how, or where you would be, so it is possible that I wouldn’t have found you, but I had to try. I think, back at the base, I was worried that three days was too short. Too short to know a person. Too short to judge. Too short for you to feel what I was feeling. I don’t know if I was right or wrong, but, I don’t care.”
Ty cleared his voice, “I’ve fallen in love with you in three days—.”
Léonie’s eyes filled up again but she pushed them away with the back of her hand.
“First of all, we are going on six days, now.” Léonie laughed a soft hiccough, “And second of all, I knew you loved me. I read it in your eyes. I was coming here to tell you that I love you too.”
Ty told the story of his travels. He told Léonie about Mattie who she was very soon to meet, and his mother. Léonie told Ty about her aunt and her first day back in Paris and how good it felt to take a hot bath.
When they stepped out of the cab, Léonie without even luggage, Ty led the way up the stairs and into the row home that had been converted into two apartments.
“It’s daddy,” Mattie’s voice echoed through the apartment as he opened the door. There was music on in the background, Ty’s mother’s selection he guessed. He opened the door and walked in. “But you were supposed to—” Mattie stopped talking the moment her eyes fell on Léonie.
Everyone fell silent.
“Hello,” Léonie gave a small wave to the ten-year-old girl and the older woman, then flicked her eyes at Ty.
Ty fumbled out of his silence, “Right, um, Mattie, mom, this is Léonie. Léonie this is Mattie and my mother.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Léonie smiled to both.
“She came to us?” Mattie looked to her father who nodded.
“My new mommy,” Mattie yelled as she ran then grabbed Léonie around the waist.
“She’s just kidding,” Ty said to Léonie as Mattie pressed her head to Léonie’s stomach. Mattie pulled back and gave a loud bawdy laugh for her own joke.
“We were just making some popcorn balls,” Ty’s mother stepped in and patted Mattie on the head before swatting her butt. “Would you two like to help?” She looked from Léonie to Ty.
“I would love to,” Léonie smiled as Mattie ran to the kitchen, intent on being the center of attention.
Ty watched Léonie walk in. She looked around and before Ty could ask if she needed help, she’d found an apron and opened the first two cabinets to pull out an extra mixing bowl.
“Are you helping or staring?” Léonie turned to ask Ty.
“Can’t I do both?”
Ty stood up, feeling for the first time since he’d come home, that he really was home.
Chapter Seventeen
“Bonsoir,” Léonie called from behind the kitchen counter. “Merde, ça brûle,” Léonie dropped a large pan she’d been using onto the stovetop with a clatter.
“That doesn’t sound promising,” Ty looked in her direction.
“Cette plus stupide ne fait pas cuire correctement. Aujourd'hui, il fait trop chaud, demain tout sera cuit!” Léonie muttered harshly under her breath.
Ty took off his heavy winter jacket, letting it fall over the table in residence next to the front door.
“Can I help?” He looked at the pan that Léonie seemed ready to throw against the wall. It’s contents didn’t look burnt to him.
“No, you cannot.” Léonie had been making an effort to become more capable in the kitchen but it was not easy. She refused to take a cooking class in America when she’d spent most of her life in Paris—the cooking capital of the world. Ty did not point out that they were not living in Paris.
Ty put up his hands and backed away from the “burnt” pan of food.
“What were you making?” He asked in his gentlest voice.
“You will find out next time when I do it properly.” She lifted the pan with a potholder, walked it to the garbage bin, opened it with her foot, and poured the contents inside. With a loud sigh she pushed the pan into the sink and began running water over it.
Ty walked behind her and wrapped both arms around her body, “Don’t worry, I’m sure it would have tasted like shit anyway.”
Léonie pushed herself out of Ty’s arms and swirled around to face him as she picked up a wooden spoon he had not noticed before, then smacked him in the arm with it.
“Ow, that hurt,” Ty laughed and grabbed his arm. There really was a sting.
“Good, I meant it to,” Léonie smiled too. “So what are we supposed to do for dinner now?”
“Pizza?” Ty turned hopeful.
“Don’t you ever get tired of pizza?”
He shook his head, “Never.”
Léonie let out a sigh, “What about Indian?”
“Done,” Ty pulled out his cell. He had the Bombay Palace on speed dial. Léonie immediately began cleaning the substantial mess she’d made in the kitchen.
“Thirty to forty-five minutes,” He said as he hung up.
“How was your day?” She looked up at Ty.
Ty shrugged, “Usual. Talked to a bunch of angry people, a few nice ones, and tried to work my way around John and Vlad who seemed particularly apt to fuck things up.”
“Nice,” Léonie smiled. “I still feel exhausted. These overnights kill me.”
Léonie had worked overnight at the Johns Hopkins Children’s Center. So she’d come in at seven and gone right to sleep.
Ty felt a bit guilty for her commute. DC traffic was terrible, pretty much all the time. He had a ten-minute commute since they basically lived down the street from his office. She was guaranteed a one-hour drive each way to her work. Ty had promised they would look for an apartment or house between the two cities when she’d first moved to the States and taken a job with Johns Hopkins, that was two years ago now and he’d only looked through craigslist a dozen times and those were probably all within the first two weeks.
Ty turned on the news for them both to watch while they waited for their food. Léonie finished in the kitchen then came into the living space and plopped down on the sofa next to Ty with a sigh. He gave a quick look at her then turned back to the TV. She did look tired, but she always did when she was on an overnight shift. The hospital tried to spread the difficult shifts amongst the pediatric ER doctors but her work schedule was so sporadic that it often didn’t matter. Some nights when she should be coming home by eight there would be an influx of patients and Léonie would end up staying for three or four more hours—then wouldn’t get home until one anyway. Those nights she might be scheduled for a morning shift the next day and have to wake up by five am.
After working in Afghanistan she always said that she was used a much less structured working schedule. She’d been dabbling with the idea of working in the International Adoption Medicine Clinic
for a bit but there was still a much greater demand in the ER. The hospital had just tripled the size of the Pediatric ER and Léonie had been added along with a good number of additional doctors in the expansion.
“We had a girl, just a little younger then Mattie,” Léonie looked over at Ty. “She’d swallowed a bottle of her mother’s sleeping pills.” Léonie turned away from him and stared at the television without really seeing it.
“On purpose?” Ty was surprised. He hadn’t thought about any kid younger then Mattie, who was only twelve now, wanting to commit suicide.
“Yes,” turned her eyes to him. “We pumped her stomach, then I noticed all these scars that ran up her left arm and down the insides of both thighs.”
Ty looked at Léonie.
“She’d been cutting herself, some of the scars looked old too—her mother had no idea.” Léonie sighed, “Leslie says that it isn’t uncommon, even in pre-teens.”
Ty understood. Léonie had spent all of her working life at a teaching hospital in Paris and then in Afghanistan. Things were different in America. The problems of the children in Afghanistan were very different. They weren’t self-inflicted. Those children had larger problems then hurting themselves. Malnourishment, infectious disease, preventable infections, then of course there was always the possibility of being blown-up by a basement made bomb, or being shot by insurgents.
“I imagine it’s not,” Ty got up and walked around to the fridge, grabbing two beers. He opened one and carried the other to the couch setting both on the coffee table in front of him. Léonie looked down at the two beers then got up and went to the fridge herself to get a citron lemon lime Perrier. Ty should have asked her if she wanted anything he’d just… not thought about it in the moment. She didn’t drink wine on nights when she had an early shift.
“—we should do something out of the hospital.” Léonie’s voice came up behind him and he realized that he hadn’t been paying attention.
“Hm?” He turned to her until she made her way around the sofa.
“I was saying that Leslie suggested we should do something else out of the hospital. I was thinking maybe we could host a little dinner party? We’ve not had anyone over since I got here.”
“We’ve had Mattie and my mom. Your aunt came for those three days.” Ty took a long swig of beer. He did not feel like hosting a dinner party.
“You know what I mean. Outside of family.” She pulled her feet onto the sofa and pulled her knees into her chest. Her hair had grown down past her shoulders but she’d kept the bangs that she now pushed to one side of her large blue eyes.
There was a knock at the door and Ty stood up, taking his beer with him.
“Hey,” Ty took the receipt, wrote in a tip and signed it. He took the sack of food and raised his beer bottle to the driver who was Indian himself. “Have a good night.”
He closed the door with his foot but didn’t bother to lock it—no hands to do that.
Léonie was bringing silverware and plates to the dining table.
“Oh, I thought we’d eat while watching the news,” He pointed to the sofa. Léonie sighed and he could see the annoyance of her face. She hated having meals in front of the TV, or with the TV on at all. She looked to the sofa then to Ty.
“Fine,” She picked up the plates and silverware and carried them over to the sofa. “So what do you think?”
“What do I think about what?” Ty was pulling cartons of rice, plastic containers of curry, and a foil wrapped packet of naan out of the bag.
“About the dinner party? I would want you to invite someone from work too, two people preferably or one person with their partner. Six would make a nice even group.”
Ty skimmed through his mind of who he would invite to a dinner party. The men he knew in the office were hardly dinner party types, but maybe Deacon…he was married and his wife sounded like she might be the type. She was always keeping Deacon out of the bar and on his way home when everyone else was going to happy hour.
“Ok,” Ty nodded.
“Yes?”
“Sure,” Ty put the paper bag wrapped in the plastic one on the floor to use for their empty containers and throwaways.
“Wonderful,” Léonie seemed to immediately perk up. “That is very good.” She sat on the sofa with a smile and Ty was glad that he’d said yes after all.
Chapter Eighteen
Léonie spent the next three days just deciding what she would make. She could tell that Ty wasn’t overly enthusiastic but that was ok with her. As long as he made the effort to invite two people and to participate when the night came. After coming up with a menu that seemed possible for her to make without messing up too terribly she spent the next three days practicing each dish.
Ty obviously found this humorous until he realized he had to eat the same thing for three days in a row plus the dinner itself. Léonie was so excited about it that she didn’t even mind if he ate every meal in front of the TV. He certainly had some habits that showed off his life as a soldier. He ate his food, whether in front of the TV or at the table, in under three minutes.
When he wasn’t at work he constantly had a beer in his hand. He went for happy hour with his work buddies almost every evening before coming home. He was immune to the effects of a dirty house and he would routinely forget about Léonie’s needs altogether… Forgetting to bring her a drink, to ask if she needed anything at the store before he stopped, taking the car out when she had to go to work.
Though she hadn’t had many friends in Paris, Léonie had still been invited to multiple dinner parties. Even other busy doctors and students had made time to bring people together to share an excellent meal. Her aunt had brought people to her house and even when Léonie should have been too young to participate there was always a seat for her. When she was fourteen her aunt always told Léonie that she could stay for dinner but then it was off to bed. By the time dinner was over though, there had been enough wine that her aunt’s parenting skills relaxed and Léonie was ultimately allowed to stay. There was music, often one of the guests played the piano, stories were told, and wine drunk. Guests would stay late into the night—laughing, singing, and eating exquisitely made food.
Léonie had planned on a Saturday night when she, Leslie, and Portia from work were off the schedule, and since Ty’s work was always Monday through Friday 9-5 his guests would certainly be off work.
Ty had forgotten to ask twice but had eventually asked and secured his two guests.
“Aren’t there going to be a lot of women?” Ty asked as Léonie was setting the table. She’d moved the furniture around, moving the TV back so it was no longer the focal point of the room. She’d purchased an extra lamp, so that three lamps would light the entire room without the use of overhead light. There were two large bouquets of yellow and green tea roses, and Léonie wore a figure hugging black velvet dress with her hair swept up on top of her head, a rosy lip stain, yellow drop earrings, a thick, ropey yellow necklace, and three inch black heels.
Ty let out a whistle when he saw her. He was wearing jeans and a tee shirt.
“At least put a button-up on, no? And there will be equal men to women.” She turned back to her table. Candles lit the sideboard and she’d made a bar out of a side table. Martini shaker, liquor, wine, and beer because she was certain Ty’s friend would be just as much of a beer drinker as he was.
Ty frowned, “No—I told you that Deacon is bringing his wife.”
“There is you, Deacon and Leslie. Then me, Deacon’s wife and Portia.” Léonie walked to the oven to check on her fig-glazed roast pork with garlic, onions and pears. Immediately Léonie decided it would be good. The smell alone was enough to tell her that. She turned into the counter to put olives, cheese, and chicken liver pâté together with a fresh baguette.
“You mean, Leslie, is a man?” Ty walked over to the counter.
“Of course,” Léonie put down her knife and looked up at Ty. “I have been talking about him for…months. Have you not
been listening to anything I say?” Her face felt hot and she tried to keep herself calm. It was so like him to just tune her out. They spent so much time apart with both of their jobs and conflicting schedules, it was aggravating to think that when they were actually together, Ty was ignoring her anyway.
Ty, did not have an answer to this, she could tell. The look on his face made him look like he was the one who had the right to be upset, which only incensed Léonie all the more.
“Go upstairs and change your shirt,” She said tightly. She did not want to ruin the night before it already began.
“No, I like my shirt just fine,” He was in an obstinate mood.
She opened her mouth to protest then closed it and shook her head, “Fine. Don’t change it.” She pulled out the small plates and filled them then pulled out the wine glasses, tumblers, and tall beer glasses from the cupboard.
“Do you realize how much you talk about ‘Leslie?’” Ty asked, putting Leslie’s name in quotes as if he were a myth. “How old is he?”
“If you’d paid attention to all those times I’d talked about him then you would know he was a man.”
“You know it’s hard for me to remember things about people I’ve never met,” He watched her work without offering to help.
“That is not an excuse. And, what does his age have to do with anything?”
Ty opened his mouth to reply but Léonie put up a hand to stop him from speaking.
“No, please don’t.” She was certain that he was only going to say the wrong thing again.
Just as he moved forward, obviously intent on saying what he wanted to say, there was a knock on the door.
The two stared at each other for a long moment.
“Well, would you mind getting that?” Léonie said with exasperation. She lifted her hands and gestured to the food in front of her, indicating that she was busy and he was not.
Ty exhaled a short snort through his nose and shook his head lightly before turning to the door. Léonie turned back to her food preparation trying to calm down and get a hold on her emotions. This was going to be a nice dinner. She’d been working too hard for it not to be.
Romancing the SEAL: The Complete Box Set (SEAL Military Romance Series Book 4) Page 10
