French Twist

by Glynis Astie

  I heard his key in the lock and sprinted to the door. He opened the door and I nearly knocked him to the ground.

  He laughed. “I am happy to see you too, mon coeur!”

  I buried my head in his chest. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. Why didn’t you call me when you landed?”

  He put down his bags and held my face in his hands. “I wanted to surprise you.” He grinned devilishly at me. “And I have a very good idea of how much you missed me. I have not felt whole for the last two weeks.”

  Louis then drew me close to him and kissed me hungrily. I felt like an electric current was passing through my body. I started hastily unbuttoning his shirt and pulling him onto the couch.

  “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable on the bed?” Louis began to kiss his way down my body.

  I unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down around his ankles. “No time. I need you now.”

  He grinned like a kid on Christmas and pulled me on top of him as he sat down on the couch. It was a good thing we didn’t have roommates anymore, because they would have gotten quite a show over the next hour.

  Louis and I lay wrapped around each other on the couch. I was so warm and happy that I never wanted to move. Then my stomach rumbled. Hmmm. I was going to have to do something about that. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten. I had been so focused on Louis’ return, I had forgotten to eat. Wow. That spoke volumes. I had never forgotten to eat in my life.

  Louis raised his eyebrows. “It has been more than two hours since you last ate, hasn’t it?”

  I kissed him on the nose. “I had much more important things on my mind than food.”

  He smirked. “Very few things are more important to you than food. I am humbled to make the list.”

  I swatted him in the back of the head. “You suck!”

  He ran his hand up my thigh. “Maybe later...if you are lucky.”

  I swatted him again.

  He raised his hands in surrender. “I am fairly hungry myself. Shall we get dressed and go get something to eat?”

  I thought it over. “OK. Do you want to go to Charlie’s?”

  Louis wrinkled his nose. “I am so tired of eating out. Do you mind if we go to the grocery store?” He kissed my neck and started working his way down. “That way we can return to more important things much sooner.”

  I felt my whole body beginning to melt. I gasped. “If you want to eat any time soon, you will cease and desist, Monsieur Durand. Otherwise, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.”

  He chuckled. “You win. Let us get dressed.” He helped me up off the couch and we quickly put on all necessary clothing.

  As we drove to the grocery store, I thought about how lucky I was. Louis had only been back in the country for a few hours and already I felt my sanity returning. I was sure we would be able to work out our wedding details (times two) without a problem. I sighed contentedly.

  Louis smiled. “You seem to be in a good mood.”

  I put my hand on his knee. “Being around you always puts me in a good mood.”

  “I promise to put you in an even better mood when we get back to the apartment.” He laughed darkly.

  Louis parked the car and we walked into the store. As we walked through the aisles, I realized we needed a lot more than a few things. I had been so busy with work, I had eaten most of my meals out and hadn’t stocked the house with much of anything. By the time we were done, the cart was brimming with food.

  While we were unloading the cart onto the conveyor belt, Louis remembered one last item. I continued to load our groceries as he ran to retrieve whatever item it was he couldn’t live without. I was so tired, I wasn’t even looking at the items as I put them down. I reached into the cart and felt something soft wrapped in plastic. It slipped out of my hands as I tried to pick it up, so I glanced over to see what it was. I carefully studied the item in question. Wait. Are those? I read the label. Oh God. I’m holding a package of pigs’ feet. Did Louis put these in the cart? Did someone else put this in our cart as a joke? Gross!

  I was still standing there contemplating the possibilities when Louis returned.

  “I see you found my pigs feet.” He was laughing uncontrollably.

  I regarded him suspiciously. “Were you playing a joke on me?”

  He was gasping for breath. “No, my grandmother used to make these for me as a child. I love them!”

  Comprehension slowly dawned on me. “So you’re enjoying the fact that I’m a closed-minded American who freaked out when she found animal hooves in her cart?”

  He nodded. “Precisely.”

  I shook my head at him. “You really do suck.” I paused. “And not in a good way.”

  That sent him into further fits of hysterical laughter. The cashier was not amused. I smiled apologetically at her and quickly paid our bill.

  When we got home, Louis prepared his cherished pigs feet and made me promise to try them. I almost balked, but then I remembered I would have years of trying new and exotic foods ahead of me. I may as well jump in now. I was certainly not going to be known as the ugly American who only eats hamburgers and macaroni and cheese.

  The taste was...interesting. I don’t think I would voluntarily eat pig’s feet again, but I did at least taste them. I was going to have to be more adventurous in all aspects of my life if I were going to be Madame Louis Durand. (Little did I know there would be a seemingly endless array of “delicacies” coming my way in the next year. I would be served frog’s legs, snails, kangaroo, cow intestines and calf brains. I will have you know I tried everything but the brains. I have to draw the line somewhere.)

  When the next morning arrived, I was filled with sadness that Louis and I would be separated again so soon. But reality is reality and money must be earned. I had just gotten out of the shower when an enormous cloud of cologne permeated the bathroom. I started to cough. What happened? Did the bottle explode in his suitcase?

  I quickly toweled myself off and opened the bathroom door. The scent was so strong, it brought tears to my eyes.

  “Louis?” I couldn’t stop coughing.

  He came into the bedroom. “Are you alright, mon coeur?”

  I was slowly getting control of my breathing. “What. Is That. Smell?”

  He seemed confused. “Smell? Oh! I put on a bit of cologne.”

  As I have said on numerous occasions, I found Louis’ usual scent to be intoxicating. This was...overbearing.

  “Did you buy a new cologne when you were in France?” And was it industrial strength?

  “No. I just bought a new bottle of my cologne. I was almost out of it before I left. Good timing, no?”

  I nodded weakly. “Indeed.”

  “Are you sure that you are alright, mon coeur?” He appeared concerned.

  “Yes, I’m fine. I was a little surprised by the, um, strength of the scent.”

  He smiled ruefully. “I remember Jean telling me I used it a little too liberally. I think I was happy to not have to ration it anymore. I probably went a little overboard.”

  I put my hand on the side of his face and suddenly concluded this was a bad idea. I had just coated my hand in the high octane scent.

  “I love your cologne. I just think a little goes a long way.”

  He chuckled. “You will have to enforce a limit of sprays.”

  That was exactly what I had been thinking. “Good idea! How about a maximum of three?”

  He regarded me skeptically. “We will give it a try tomorrow. I may need four to achieve the full power of my manly scent.” He broke into a grin.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You no longer have any need to attract anyone with your ‘manly scent’.”

  Louis threw his head back and laughed. “I love you so much, Syd.”

  I carefully gave him a kiss good-bye. I didn’t want to transfer any more of his cologne to my face. “I love you too.”

  For the next couple of days, I had to carefully monitor Louis’ cologne
use. He finally agreed three sprays would be sufficient, since he was no longer available for the ladies. I knew the people in his office would thank me for making his scent less overpowering. As a member of a Human Resources department, I had had more than my share of discussions with employees regarding the appropriate amount of cologne/perfume to wear in an office environment. Not a fun discussion to have, but way easier than the dreaded body odor discussion.

  Unfortunately for me, that evening was my turn to be the source of a scent faux pas. Louis and I were sitting on the couch after dinner enjoying some mind numbing TV when I felt some rumbling in my abdomen. Uh oh. I had been able to hide the fact that I fart from Louis for the duration of our relationship, though once we started living together it had become much more complicated. I had made more than a few spontaneous trips to the balcony for “a breath of fresh air.” No doubt, Louis was on to me, but I wasn’t ready to give up the illusion yet.

  I started to extract myself from the couch for a trip to the balcony, when Louis tugged on my hand.

  “Where are you going, mon coeur? You are so snuggly. I do not want you to get up.” He tried to pull me back onto the couch.

  I laughed nervously. “I need a little air. I’ll be right back.” I tried to pull my hand away.

  He refused to release my hand while eyeing me suspiciously. “Is that truly what this is about?” He was trying hard not to smile.

  As I was about to answer him, a foreign sound escaped my body. I had finally farted in front of Louis. I blushed profusely from the humiliation. And I haven’t even told you the worst part. It was smelly, loud and, oddly enough, musical. That’s right! It came out as a high pitched note which I find hard to describe. It almost sounded like, “Plew!”

  Louis laughed so hard that he fell off the couch. He had tears of laughter streaming down his face. I just stood there watching him, completely torn between laughing with him and being annoyed with him. I finally joined him on the floor and started to laugh. Every couple of minutes he would stop laughing, look at me and sing, “Plew!” Then he would start laughing all over again. I decided my days of hiding farts from him were over. Although I doubt he would find it this funny every time.

  The next morning, I woke up sincerely hoping Louis was not going to be on another “Plew!” kick today. Last night was more than enough for me. I groggily walked into the bathroom, stood in front of the bathroom mirror, rubbed my eyes and screamed. Who the hell was the strange man in my bathroom? I quickly searched the bathroom for something I could hit him with when I heard Louis’ voice.

  “Are you OK, Syd?” What? Where did he come from? More importantly, what happened to the man in the bathroom?

  I slowly focused on Louis’ face. Something was very wrong. Oh crap! He had shaved off all his facial hair! He looked like a completely different person. It was then that my sleep addled brain comprehended, he was the man I had seen in the mirror.

  I started to chuckle. “I’m sorry, Bluey. I didn’t recognize you at first.” I touched his face in amazement. “You look like a teenager!”

  He grimaced. “I have such a baby face. This was not intentional. The razor slipped and there was no other way to fix it.”

  I grinned. “You’re adorable.”

  He swatted me on the butt. “Not funny.”

  I put my arms around him. “You look hot! Meet me at my locker after school?”

  He frowned at me. “You suck.”

  I reached up and kissed him. “I know, but you still love me.”

  “And you are lucky I do.” He smirked. “I have to run. Have a good day, mon coeur.”

  I turned on the shower and took off my pajamas while the water was warming up. “You too, Bluey!”

  Louis stopped and gazed at me for a moment. “I will carry that image with me all day.” He sighed and literally ran for the front door.

  I threw my pajamas in the hamper and scanned the bathroom. Sharing a bathroom with Louis was a unique experience. He was neat in most other areas - his personal appearance, his car and the rest of the apartment. He always put his dishes in the dishwasher, put his clothes in the hamper and picked up all his work papers. However, he didn’t feel the need to clean up a good portion of the beard hair he had trimmed, the toothpaste he had dropped or even the few stray drops of urine which fell on the floor by the toilet. (He sometimes sleepwalked into the bathroom in the middle of the night and I’m guessing sleepwalking interfered with his ability to aim for the toilet.)

  Though this kind of behavior didn’t thrill me, I knew I was far from perfect. And it was certainly true that different things bothered different people. Louis and I were simply going to have to figure out what we could live with in terms of the other’s behavior. In the meantime, I chose to focus on that while living with someone you believed to be your soul mate couldn’t be without flaws, the love you shared was more than enough to make up for it. However, I will absolutely admit, on a day-to-day basis it was a very tricky business...

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  On Saturday morning, Louis called his mother to broach our American wedding/French reception idea. Thankfully, she was on board, as long as the reception wasn’t long after the wedding. She was very excited at the prospect of a trip to the United States and was already telling all her friends that her son was going to have a lavish American wedding. I was thrilled she was happy with our plan and told Louis she was more than welcome to do all the planning for the French reception. Well, almost all the planning; I still wanted the responsibility of choosing my dress.

  I would need a less formal wedding dress for the French countryside and after seeing many photos of Louis’ mom, it was clear to me we didn’t have the same style. There were going to be many photos taken that day and I had no intention of having photographic evidence of me in a dress of her choosing. Lest you think me overly judgmental, just picture Madonna circa nineteen eighty-five. I wish I were joking.

  Once this was settled, I knew I had to call my parents to break the news that our wedding would be in California. Louis and I had found a beautiful hotel on the water in Monterey and had decided on the spot that this was the perfect location for the wedding. The majority of my friends lived in the Bay Area and the rest of my friends, not to mention Louis’ family, would have to travel to either New York or California for the wedding, so we thought California was the better choice.

  My father wasn’t going to be pleased; he was a hard core New Yorker. He kept telling me California was going to fall into the ocean and I had better move back home before I drowned. I was also sure many of my parents’ friends wouldn’t travel to California, so I knew they would be disappointed. My parents had attended many of the weddings of their friends’ children and they wanted their turn to show off. But ultimately, a wedding in Monterey was what Louis and I wanted, so this was what we were going to do. None of this changed the fact that I was completely petrified to make this phone call.

  I decided to avoid this task by checking in with Maya. Or trying to. She was becoming very difficult to pin down these days. She was unquestionably up to something. I was convinced her elusiveness had something to do with Jean, but she wouldn’t admit a thing. And despite Louis’ best efforts, he wasn’t able to wheedle any information out of his former roommate. What the hell was going on between the two of them?

  I dialed her cell phone and fully expected to get her voicemail instead of the rapid pick up she used to employ. To my surprise, she answered on the first ring.

  “Sydney Bennett! Where have you been?”

  I laughed. “I could ask you the same question, my friend. I’ve left you a bunch of voicemails. What have you been up to?”

  She sighed. “Nothing exciting. Not all of us can live out a movie plotline.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Bullshit. You’re up to something, Maya. You’ve never been shy about filling me in on all the details in your life - even the ones I didn’t want to hear.” Seriously, some images can never be erased.

  “Com
e on, Syd! You love my stories. I used to provide the much-needed excitement in your life.” She chuckled.

  I scoffed. “I had plenty of drama of my own, thank you very much.” I took a deep breath. “Just promise me that you’re alright. I’m not used to being kept in the dark where you’re concerned.”

  “Syd, I’m fine. I appreciate your concern, but there’s no need to worry, OK?”

  “Maya, you know me. I’m going to worry until you tell me what’s going on.”

  She was becoming exasperated. “It’s a good thing, trust me. I want to keep it to myself for a little while longer. I don’t want to jinx anything.”

  I thought for a moment. “Fine. But tell me one thing - does it involve Jean?”

  She laughed. “Bye, Syd!”

  “Maya!”

  She actually hung up on me! How rude! I sat and weighed my options. I knew I should respect her request and allow her some privacy, but this was such a foreign concept when it came to Maya. She had always been an open book. I felt a massive sense of frustration at not knowing what was happening and recognized I was in no state of mind to call my parents. This unpleasant task would have to be put off for a little while longer. I wondered what movies were on cable...

  By late afternoon, I decided I could procrastinate no longer. I took a deep breath and called my mom at the store. Of course, my dad picked up right away.

  “Duck, I’m so glad to know that you’re still breathing.” Great. This bodes well for the rest of the conversation.

  I silently cursed myself for not speaking with him earlier in the week when I checked in with my mom. This call would be so much easier if I didn’t already feel guilty.

  I sighed. “I’m sorry, Dad. Work has been insane over the past two weeks and then I got...distracted by Louis’ return. I’ve missed you though!”

  “We’ve missed you too. How’s Louis?”

  This is new. He doesn’t usually ask about him. Could this be a good sign?