by Tracy Quan
Milt peeked into the back seat. “One of you has to sit up front,” he insisted. “You’re liable to get carried away back here and cause a distraction while I’m driving. You can’t do that to a guy!”
Sitting next to Milt, I toyed with the buttons on my blouse and turned my head just enough to flash a discreet smile. He was approaching the Boulevard Bonfils when I said in a polite but clear voice, “We’ll have to finish what we started when you come back from golf.” His eyes lingered over my schoolgirlish outfit—a false skirt that opens when I move my legs, to reveal short culottes and a glimpse of thigh. “Why don’t you drop us both at the ciber-café. We’ll take care of our email and go on to church together.”
“Good idea!” Allie piped up, anxious to show her cooperative spirit.
Remembering Tini, I backtracked. If Milt pulls up in front of the café, what are the chances of running into her? Would that be a good thing or a bad thing? I don’t want to risk it, unless I know how to deal with the outcome.
“Actually,” I said. “Why don’t you drop us near the fountain. It’s a nice day for a walk!”
As I exited the front seat, he caressed my hip. “Save this for later,” he said. “And call Duncan if you need anything.”
As I made my way toward the Avenue du 15ème Corps, Allie followed. She began walking faster.
“You don’t have to come with me,” I said. “I’ll meet you after church. I just said that so Milt would—”
“No!” Allie said, in a high nervous voice. “I’m coming with you. Quickly,” she added, as we reached the café. “Get inside! Close the door!” She dashed toward a table in the back. Now I was the one following.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I just saw someone we shouldn’t—Don’t look!” I turned around. “I can’t believe it!”
“What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t see him?” She moved into a corner table and gazed back at me like a woodland creature with a very short life span facing premature demise. “He didn’t see you?”
“Who are you hiding from?”
“That priest!” She couldn’t look me in the eye.
“Did you … did you pick up a priest?” I was horrified yet impressed—it’s not like Allie to be so enterprising. “You’re not supposed to be doing business with local guys! What if Milt finds out? Where did you do it? How much did you GET?”
“No!” she gasped. “Father Philippe is helping Bad Girls Without Borders protect Mary Magdalen’s relics.”
“He’s helping YOU to protect the relics? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I want to get some coffee and a day pass. Take a deep breath! You can’t let some lecherous priest intimidate you.”
But when I got to the cash register, I saw what Allie was hiding from—and what she was hiding from me. Two men on the sidewalk were engrossed in conversation. The priest, tall and dark-haired with somewhat large ears, was more animated. Where have I seen his face before? Yesterday, on the Dominican website that Tini was looking at. The other man, nodding earnestly, was consulting a small book while they spoke. When he turned his head toward the window, I panicked. Jason? What is my brother-in-law doing in St-Maximin? Then I ducked.
I hurried back to the corner cubicle, where I found Allie hunched over her phone. She looked up. “Is he gone?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Jason!” Is THAT how Elspeth found out? Could Jason be spying for his wife? Or did he spill the beans accidentally? What has Jason seen?
Allie covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders were trembling. “I’m sorry!” she exclaimed.
“You knew he was out there! You let me—”
“I tried to stop you! Did he see you?”
“I don’t know. I fucking well hope not! How long have you known about this?”
“About what?” she squeaked.
“About my brother-in-law. How long have you been hiding THAT from me?”
“It’s not what you think!” Allie said. “Roxana told me a NYCOT supporter was flying in from Paris, but I had no idea who it was! He’s driving us to the mountain tomorrow.”
“You promised you would stay away from him. We had a deal.”
“I kept my promise!” Now she was looking me in the eye, oddly enough. “But I can’t control what Roxana does. You know what? Jason shows up every year around the same time. He tells Roxana he wants to make a difference. And then?” Allie shrugged. “He just disappears.”
If she broke that promise and met with Jason, I bet NYCOT would NEVER be rid of him.
“He’s a married man with twins. And a partner in his law firm. He’s busy.” Why am I defending Jason to her? And why does he get obsessed with hookers—in this completely inappropriate way!—whenever the weather warms up?
I was sure, when Jason became a father, he would get over NYCOT and I would never worry about him running into Allie, or finding out my secrets, again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
France: Revelations
Sunday afternoon, continued
Matt’s emails are mostly FWDs from Elspeth. That’s no surprise, but the content sure is.
Honey, don’t freak. What you’re about to read is kinda weird but I have to show you. I desperately need your advice.
Matt:
>> WAKE UP AND SMELL THE CAFÉ AU LAIT! Your darling wife is screwing my darling husband in the south of fucking France and has probably been doing him on the side ever since I HAD THE TWINS. He is not, I repeat, NOT in Paris—I don’t care WHAT you say. You spoke to her mother? Well, has it ever occurred to you that her mother might be the perfect cover for a rendezvous with MY HUSBAND?—Elspeth
>>Matt, You are obviously in total denial, my dear. Have you ever noticed that my husband and YOUR WIFE are always unreachable around six o’clock? I HAVE. Not once have I ever seen your wife ANSWERING HER CELLPHONE when YOU AND I have dinner with her. Don’t you think that’s strange??? Why do you think she always has it turned off? To save the battery? She’s hiding something from you BIG TIME and she’s hiding something from ME. That two-faced bitch has you wrapped around her finger but I AM ONTO HER. E.
>> I almost can’t believe those two would do something so blatant. Let me just explain. Criminals like to HIDE THINGS IN PLAIN SIGHT. Adultery is no longer prosecuted in New York State but the ADULTEROUS MENTALITY has never changed. Ask any criminologist. E.
>>MATT: Just had a meeting with Raoul Felder. You’d better be prepared to provide my son with a masculine role model because his father won’t have a functioning set of balls when Felder and I get done with him. I’m glad I kept my maiden name. E.
Omigod. Elspeth is farther off the mark than I ever imagined. Jason’s not even my type! Sex with my brother-in-law has never crossed my mind. For once, I’m in the clear, even with myself.
Elspeth’s always been nosy, but this is something new. I’ve never seen Elspeth get angry. To think I was worried about her going back to work and getting involved with Interpol.
But how does she know where Jason is? Matt’s next message offers a clue.
Honey, see what I mean? I’m really sorry to make you look at those crazy emails. I don’t know what got into my sister. She called my office and tried to get them to interrupt a meeting. Last night, she woke me up. I’m worried. She says she “found out” he’s not in Paris because of his GPS. She says he called from the airport in Marseille but they never spoke. Dunno what to think. Is she imagining all this? When I question her, she screams. Refuses to call Jason. I tried. Says he’ll have to talk to her lawyer. Could use some advice from a sensitive intelligent woman and you’re, um, the first person that comes to mind. xoxo
Am I off the hook here? My marriage is stronger than ever, and my husband is pestering me for advice! Breathing a sigh of relief, I typed back, almost joyfully:
Has there been an incident like this before??? What provoked it? Were they having problems of any kind?
Re-reading Elspeth’s last message, I felt
a twinge. Only a woman in deepest pain would say such things about her husband’s testicles.
I don’t know WHAT to make of Jason: has my worst nightmare become my new best friend? Well, not quite.
“You cannot be seen with me,” I told Allison. “You have to go out there and distract those guys. Jason and I can’t have any contact.” Not if those emails are for real. “Get him out of my radius while I call Duncan. Be careful what you say! If Jason runs into me, I’ll pretend I don’t know you’re here. Can you keep all that straight?”
Allie was massaging her temples. “I don’t know!”
“Don’t forget, Jason thinks I’m one of your straight friends. Just think about how you would act if I were.”
“But I don’t really have any straight friends,” Allie said.
“I hardly do either,” I admitted. “But having straight friends is a useful skill. Just pretend you’re hiding your business from me! This way, if Jason runs into my mother, he’ll keep your job a secret from her, too.”
“If we just told everyone the truth, it would all be much simpler.”
“It would NOT,” I pointed out. “Remember, Matt thinks I’m staying with my mother in the monastery. And my mother thinks we’re both staying with your uncle. I want Jason to think I’m staying with my mother. And you’re staying with your uncle.”
“What if Jason talks to your mom? He might get the idea you’re staying with my uncle!”
She’s right! And what if he tells Matt? Elspeth’s accusations will start sounding entirely credible. Yikes.
“We have to make sure that doesn’t happen,” I said. “You have to do everything in your power to keep Jason away from my mother.”
I can’t believe I’ve created such a deadly trap for my brother-in-law. It was never supposed to be like this!
Later still
Sitting under an umbrella with an iced tilleul infusion and the latest Nouvel Observateur, I felt the phone vibrating in my lap.
“I’m in Plan d’Aups with Jason!” Allie was talking in a low, nervous voice. “We’re at Father Philippe’s museum. Should I ask him to drive me back to Milt’s place?”
“No! Are you crazy? What are you doing all the way up there?”
“Well, you told me to keep away from your mom, but I keep running into her! I was in the church trying to get a close-up of Mary Magdalen’s skull and she was doing exactly the same thing.”
“That’s why I’m not showing up for any of your festivities tomorrow. I wish you would both put your cameras away! I’m liable to end up on some Godawful website surrounded by people wearing embarrassing T-shirts.”
“Remember that little altar girl? She came downstairs and caught us taking pictures. So I went across the street to that nice tea shop. Jason was in there interviewing Father Philippe. Jason’s doing some very serious historical research. It’s for his novel. And since Father Philippe was the caretaker of Mary Magdalen’s cave …”
Oh no. That novel he was writing when he first met Allie. About Mary Magdalen surviving … a real estate boom.
“Then your mom and Dodie came into the tea shop and Dodie took a seat RIGHT NEXT to us! Father Philippe asked Dodie if he could practice his English with her!”
“Omigod. Did my mom meet JASON?”
“No,” Allie assured me. “She was upfront, looking at the artisanal vinegars. So I asked Jason if he would take me to Father Philippe’s museum. It’s the only way I could keep everyone apart! Well, it turns out Jason is actually staying in one of the spare rooms, and Father Philippe says I can sleep in the OTHER guest room. He says the Sodomites’ real sin was being unfriendly to visitors and he prefers to practice his English with a sex worker.”
“We need to deal with this before Milt gets back from the golf course. Don’t turn your phone off!”
I looked for Duncan in the kitchen, the library, the media hut. Finally, I tried the exercise room. I found him lying on the carpet, examining the underside of the exercise bike with a flashlight. Screwdriver and pliers lay on the floor, framing his torso. I couldn’t help staring. His navy T-shirt, completing the effect, was immaculate.
“Who’s there?” he said. Temptation stunned me into silence … I could walk right over and carefully straddle his pelvis in these culottes. The fabric on my thighs feels so loose and light. I can imagine the outline of my pussy pressing against him, the lips opening beneath my panties. I like the way his knees, slightly bent, cause a ripple in the front of his jeans. But if I were sitting on him like that, his legs would be straight.
I caught my breath. He was concentrating on the bike.
“It’s me,” I said quietly. My lower lips were swollen and I was afraid to move.
He slowly pulled himself away from the machine and looked up. “Is there something you need?”
I looked right back. My knees were trembling. He switched off his flashlight, holding my gaze. I could hear ringing in another room.
“Isn’t that’s your phone?” I said. “It might be Allison.” His expression gave nothing away. Have they fucked again? How does he feel about her? The conflict in my culottes became more manageable. Duncan’s phone continued, but he made no effort to leave the room. “Allison’s in a bit of a jam,” I told him. “She’s stranded in Plan d’Aups. I’m afraid we need your help! I’d rather not discuss all this with Milt, of course.”
“How did she—” He rephrased his question. “Do you know where in Plan d’Aups?”
“She’s at a museum. With a priest. I think we’d better call her.”
“La Maison Marie-Magdeleine? The founder is Pasquale’s uncle.”
“Pasquale?”
“The man I buy the rabbits from in Draguignan.”
“So you know this Father Philippe?”
“Before he was chased away from the mountain, he was père gardien of the cave. He claims to have daily conversations with the Magdalen. How did Allison end up in his museum? Shall we go together?”
“Father Philippe has a houseguest from New York! Someone I need to avoid.”
“Oh?” Duncan collected his tools from the floor.
“Allison’s under strict instructions not to mention me to him.” I followed Duncan to the SUV. “I wish I could come with you, but … there’s something you don’t know. About me.”
He turned and smiled. “Is that so?”
“Milt doesn’t know either! Father Philippe’s houseguest is my brother-in-law. I can’t have any contact with him because his wife thinks we’re having an affair. She’s completely deluded! He doesn’t even know I’m in the area,” I explained. “If I keep it that way, we have deniability. His wife went crazy last week and retained a celebrity divorce lawyer! I can’t afford to get caught in the middle. It’s bad enough that she thinks I would come here to be with her husband!”
It takes a lot to surprise Duncan.
I was blushing now. “Yes, she’s my husband’s sister.” The look in his eyes unnerved me. Is he turned on because I have a husband? “Milt has no idea I’m married. And my husband has no idea I’m here. In this house, I mean. He thinks I’m staying at—” I looked away, embarrassed “—the Couvent Royale.”
That’s all I want Duncan to know about THAT. If I tell him about my mother, he’ll think I’m delusional.
He opened the car door. “It’s a lot to keep track of.” His eyes lingered over my now-flustered appearance. I blinked, suddenly close to tears, having unraveled so much of my tale. “I’m very flattered you felt able to tell me,” he said. He touched my arm gently, and leaned toward me. I closed my eyes and felt, for the first time, his lips delivering a gentle deliberate kiss. On my forehead.
“Any man who takes your confidence for granted would be extremely foolish,” he said.
As I watched the SUV turning right, onto the Chemin du Moulin, Allie’s call was coming through.
“What exactly is your mom doing here?” she asked. “Is she part of Ruth’s plan?”
“Mother and Dodie are a
theists. They won’t be participating in Ruth’s RITUAL. They’re just taking pictures. It’s a Mom Thing. They’ll have a nice day on the mountain, documenting the event for Ruth’s website.”
“Your mom’s documenting cultural genocide!” Allie was getting shrill. “Do you know what Ruthie’s planning to do? They’re going to kidnap those relics from the local worshipers! Taking Back the Magdalen is forced rehabilitation!”
Omigosh. When Allie spelled out Ruth’s bizarre intentions, I was speechless.
“Of course, we could never tell the police!” she told me. “But this isn’t just cultural genocide—it’s theft! We’re committed to nonviolence, but there’s no guarantee THEY are. If the police get involved, your mother might be arrested.”
“I don’t think Dodie and Mother have any idea! They think Take Back the Magdalen is some kind of metaphor. Like the communion wafer.”
“Well it’s not! It’s as real as the communion wafer,” Allie said.
“But where will Ruth TAKE the Magdalen once they’ve got her? I mean, her relics.”
“It would be very wrong to take the relics—they belong to the Church and the people of St-Maximin.” The world is changing too fast for me. Allie’s radical harlots are evolving into upright citizens before my eyes. “Tini overheard Ruth talking about a safe house. It’s a goat farm in Normandy.”
Mother’s new farmhouse? But she would NEVER condone such irresponsible, superstitious behavior.
“There’s no way my mother can be involved in such an antisocial plot,” I declared. “She’s an innocent accomplice.”
“Well, you’d better tell her! She might end up being a witness. With evidence of a theft on her camera,” Allie warned me. “If you think your mother’s so innocent, you’d better call her!”
But just as Mother’s phone began ringing, Milt’s BMW pulled into the driveway, forcing me to hang up. If I tell Mother that Ruth is setting her up to harbor contraband relics, will she believe me? How can I explain my knowledge of Ruth’s plot? Without telling her way too much about Allie and myself? It’s hopeless! And Milt needs my attention.
