French Toast (The French Twist Series Book 2)

by Glynis Astie

  “Sydney Ben..Durand! It is not funny! Your poor sister isn’t quite herself!” I could hear her making all of her “I’m so disgusted with you” noises. (I decided not to bring up her difficulty in remembering my new last name. This was simply not the time.)

  I felt bad for embarrassing my mom, but I couldn’t help it. I think I had heard my sister swear a total of five times in my entire life. Her pregnancy had kicked up her attitude something fierce!

  After a few minutes, my mom succumbed and she and I laughed like idiots together. My father then picked up the extension in the back of the store and joined the conversation.

  “Duck! What are you doing to your poor mother? All the customers are staring at her.” He was feigning embarrassment, but I could tell he, too, was laughing his ass off. My dad had a wicked sense of humor, which included giving me the nickname “Duck” from his interpretation of my seven year old face when I pouted.

  We really were quite a pair, my dad and I. I often forgot we didn’t actually share any genes. He had adopted me and my siblings when he married my mother. I was seven years old when this had happened, so he had been the only father I had ever really known and I was truly grateful for his presence in my life. My biological father was more interested in his mistress than his children.

  I slowly began the descent from my crazy spell. “Come on, Dad. They’re only painting pottery. They could use a little entertainment!” This comment launched the three of us into a laughing fit which lasted another five minutes.

  My dad eventually hung up to receive a delivery of bisque and my mom and I were left to recover together.

  “So, Syd, you haven’t told me how YOU are doing.”

  I thought it over. How much should I tell her? My mom was used to my boat load of crazy, but she was so worried about Kate at this point, I didn’t want to spread her too thin. I decided to keep it simple.

  “Everything is fine, Mom. Don’t worry.” Shit! Why did I say that? Telling her not to worry always makes her worry! I must be too tired to keep my usual cover in place.

  She sighed. “Sydney Julia…Durand.” This wasn’t going to be good. But she had gotten the name right this time. “Now it’s my turn to say this to you. Out with it!”

  Damn it! I really sucked at pretending to be OK. “Well, Mom, I’m tired. Both physically and emotionally. I’m still learning about my new husband, work is killing me and I’m trying to help Kate and Nick as much as possible. Louis is really stressed, I don’t get much sleep and I’m even more insane than I normally am.”

  She chuckled. “Is that all?”

  What? Am I being mocked by my MOTHER?

  “Sydney! Relax. I’m not making fun of you.” Phew. I didn’t think I could take it if she were. It was just too…weird. My mom ALWAYS has my back. Always.

  She stifled another giggle by clearing her throat. “It’s going to be OK, sweetheart.”

  See what I mean? Always.

  “I want to believe you, Mom, but I’m rather overwhelmed right now.”

  “Sweetheart, of course you are, but you need to remember you’re showing a lot of strength right now. You’re taking care of your husband, your sister AND your brother-in-law, as well as all your employees. I’m really very proud of you. You’re handling it all beautifully.”

  See that? Right there. I don’t care how old you are, you always need your mother. I found myself smiling and could feel the tension draining from my shoulders. It was all going to be alright. Eventually.

  “Thanks, Mom. I needed to hear your words of reason.”

  “I’m always here for you. Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  I laughed. “Well, things do feel a bit heavy right now…” I could definitely give Atlas a run for his money. (Shout out to my fellow Greek myth nerds!)

  “It will all work out. You’ll see.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

  I glanced up and noticed Paul, my most persistent employee, waiting for me outside my office door. Clearly, I had another fun afternoon ahead of me. I wonder what issue he’s come up with now. His last dental claim was almost the end of me. I never want to have to see those before and after photographs again. Ever.

  “Mom, I have to run. Paul is waiting.”

  She caught her breath. “Good luck.” I had shared more than a few of my “spirited” employee stories with my mom. (Minus the confidential details, of course.) Paul was one for the record books.

  “Kiss Dad for me. I love you!”

  “We love you too! Give Louis a big hug from us.”

  I hung up the phone and waved Paul into my office. After the day I had experienced thus far, I hoped just once he would bring me a question which was easy to answer.

  After a thirty minute discussion with Paul about the benefit of life insurance for a single man, including the pros and cons of making his dog his primary beneficiary, I sent him on his way with a wide array of reading material. It suddenly occurred to me, Louis and I hadn’t discussed making changes to our current life insurance selections. We were now two months into our marriage and I hadn’t completed any change of beneficiary forms.

  What was wrong with me? I lectured my employees often about the vital importance of keeping beneficiary information up to date. Did I secretly believe this marriage wasn’t going to succeed? Did I not want Louis to have the money if I met an untimely death? Would it really matter at that point?

  As I sat at my desk planning my next move, I wondered if I were really cracking up this time. The lack of sleep and crushing amount of stress both at work and home were threatening the minimal brain functioning I had retained. At the forefront of my mind was my relationship with Louis. I had been able to pull him out of his funk this time, but with the mounting tension at every turn, how long would we be able to avert disaster?

  The pressure on the success of our relationship was becoming almost unbearable to me. I knew I loved him with all my heart, but was still unsure this would be enough to make our marriage last. There’s a reason one in three marriages end in divorce! (Thank you, Mark Darcy, for this helpful statistic. Can you rely on a fictional character’s accuracy with information like this?) Tired of trying to analyze every possible angle, I stood up and dusted the remains of my lunch from my sweater.

  As I set off in search of my eighth cup of coffee for the day, I realized my lack of clairvoyant abilities meant I couldn’t discern the fate of my marriage in my head. I would simply have to go about this the old-fashioned way. Hard work and a healthy dose of panic.

  Chapter Four

  At the start of the third month of my marriage, I concluded it might be important to finish planning my dream wedding. While the venue, photographer, flowers, dj, invitations, favors, bridesmaids dresses and most importantly, my dress, had been selected, I still had a lot of work to do. I had repeatedly pushed back our tasting session with the hotel, since I had not been able to narrow down my choices for possible hors d'oeuvres and entrées, had not made any progress with the cake selection (other than it would be chocolate) and had not been able to get Louis to commit to a decision on where we would go on our honeymoon. If we could afford to go on a honeymoon…

  It suddenly dawned on me, our wedding was in six months and the number of important details which were still up in the air was astronomical. I had to make hotel reservations for out-of-town guests, plan the rehearsal dinner and the post-wedding brunch, select bridesmaid and groomsmen gifts….um….choose the tuxedos for my dad and brother….OK, I’m starting to hyperventilate. The list goes on and on and on. How would I ever be able to manage this on my own? Kate was no longer in her right mind and Maya was off with the man of her dreams. I was totally screwed. What a fun way to spend a Saturday morning!

  Just breathe, Sydney. This is not a matter of life and death. NO, it really, isn’t. No one is doing to die if you’re not perfectly satisfied with the entrée selections or if you choose the wrong style bow tie for the father of the bride. You have found your dream dres
s, selected exquisite flowers for your bouquet, found a beautiful location for the wedding and booked an awesome dj for the reception.

  I slowly began to calm down and decided it was time to visit my favorite wedding planning website. After I entered my login information, I rolled my shoulders and stretched my neck. It was time to get some serious work done.

  As the screen was loading, I thought about consulting Louis on some of the wedding details. Maybe it would help him feel a little better if he had something else to concentrate on other than his job search. Yeah….and maybe I would enjoy going with him to his Thai boxing training! Louis enjoyed talking about wedding details about as much as I would enjoy donning protective pads and kicking other people.

  At least he had found an outlet for his frustration at not being able to find a job. During the course of his networking adventures, he had come into contact with a man who owned a martial arts studio. Bastiaan was impressed with Louis’ status as a five time national Thai boxing champion in France and asked him if he would be interested in teaching at his studio. Louis jumped at the chance for activity and spent much of his time there. Thankfully, this also brought us a small amount of money, since our bills were mounting.

  After a very long two minutes, the screen with this week’s wedding planning activities popped up. There were eighteen items on it. Wait…I’m getting married in six months, how do I have eighteen things to do this week??? I quickly perused the list. I didn’t even know what half of the items were.

  How many events did people have leading up to their weddings? Create a video montage for the cocktail hour…I haven’t even selected the food for the cocktail hour! Proper wording for the wedding invitations, speech structure for the wedding toast, necessary pre-wedding outings, selecting a theme for the rehearsal dinner, choosing the right confetti, coordinating escort cards with your invitations??? What the hell is an escort card? It was like a train wreck…but I had to keep reading. The importance of setting the tone for the bridal shower and bachelorette party….What??? Wasn’t someone else supposed to plan those? Shouldn’t Kate and/or Maya take care of these things?

  I felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water down my back. Kate and Maya were MIA, my mother was three thousand miles away and running her own business and my friend, Maggie, who moonlighted as a wedding planner was so overbooked she barely knew her own name. There was no way I could ask her for help without feeling like a giant ass. Things were getting desperate. I was heading towards a full-fledged Sydney freak out – which is something you NEVER want to see. There was only one thing to do. It was time to call in the big guns. The long-distance big guns.

  I dialed my sister-in-law, Zoe’s, cell phone, tapping my pencil on my wedding notebook as I waited for her to answer. Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up! While Zoe was not as familiar with my psychotic breaks as Kate, her no-nonsense attitude made her incredibly capable of handling me. The three hour time difference between New York and California and our opposing schedules made it difficult for us to chat often, but I was still very close to her. Although, I hated to expose her to my inner lunatic since she had joined our family voluntarily. Kate had no choice but to handle me; we were related by blood.

  Zoe picked up on the third ring. “Hey, Syd! How are you, pretty lady?”

  I sighed with relief. Thank God for Zoe. “Fine. How are you?”

  She laughed. “Really? You’re fine? Because it sounds like you’re juggling enough to make anyone lose their shit.”

  I cackled. “OK, you got me. I’m dying!!!! I have a ginormous list of wedding things to deal with. Louis couldn’t care less about anything and Kate and Maya have abandoned me. I wish you were here.”

  She sighed. “Kate hasn’t abandoned you. She’s almost nine months pregnant. I know she’s…not quite herself, but she’s really having a hard time right now. Be good to your poor sister.”

  That’s easy to say for someone who’s THREE THOUSAND miles away from her. But she was right. Kate had always taken care of me. And here I was being a total selfish bitch in her hour of need.

  “You’re right, Zoe. I’m a bad person.” I paused. “I’m really stressed. I’ve stretched myself way too thin.”

  “Syd! You’re not a bad person; you’re just under a ton of pressure. Take a deep breath and try to relax.”

  “Are you high? I haven’t been able to relax in over two months.” Now, Sydney, there’s no need to snap. You don’t want to piss off one of your only functioning allies. “I’m sorry, Zoe. I’m….struggling.” I felt tears forming in my eyes.

  “Don’t worry! We’ll figure this out. Get out your crazy-ass list and let’s go through it.” Zoe knew I loved this website for its order and precision, but had told me repeatedly, it was also undoubtedly propaganda to get excited young brides to buy a whole lot of stuff they didn’t need to create their “perfect weddings.” She felt it was her job to help me cut through all the bullshit. Especially since Louis and I were on a tight budget. My parents had pledged to give us the same amount of money they had given to my siblings for their weddings (in installments), but even with our conservative choices, the wedding was shaping up to be pretty expensive, so we still had to kick in a decent amount ourselves.

  Thirty minutes later, Zoe had helped me to whittle down the scary list to a much shorter, doable list, filled with things which were actually necessary. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Thank you, Zoe. You have saved my sanity.”

  Zoe chuckled. “For the moment.”

  I shook my head. “Sadly, you’re absolutely correct. Let’s hope this bout of sanity lasts longer than the last one.”

  “Syd, you’ve got to learn to take things less seriously. You’ve already married a man whom you love very much. Now you’re just planning a party.” She paused. “A very important party, but a party nonetheless. OK?”

  She was right. I wanted it to be beautiful, but it didn’t have to be perfect. When would I ever get this through my head?

  Zoe snapped me back to reality. “Alright, hon. I have to go. Your brother and I are going car shopping.” She sighed dramatically.

  I laughed. My brother, Charlie, was a huge car enthusiast. Zoe was in need of a new car and he took this need as an opportunity to explore a myriad of possibilities. She had a clear idea of what she wanted, but Charlie was like a kid in a candy store. He had to try out ALL the options. I felt sorry for Zoe as I thought of the conversations she would have to listen to about engine size, horsepower, torque and turbo chargers. Charlie really knew his stuff. His favorite thing to do since he was a teenager was to buy an old car and fix it up himself. Zoe; however, was not looking for another project.

  “May the Force be with you.” I said a silent prayer for her afternoon to be as painless as possible. “Thanks again for all your help. I really appreciate it.”

  “Any time, Syd. We’re sisters, remember?”

  Though she couldn’t see me, I nodded my head. “Indeed we are. And I’m grateful. I love you, Zoe.” I sniffled. Good God, woman! Get it together!

  Zoe laughed. “I love you too. And don’t worry! You’re going to be fine. Say hi to Kate and Nick for us, OK?”

  I shook my head to wake myself up. “Will do. Have a good time!”

  After I hung up with Zoe, I thought about Kate. I was really pissed at myself for not being there for her in her time of need. She was going absolutely bonkers after over two months of bed rest and I was too wrapped up in my perfect wedding details to help her. I officially sucked. It was time I stopped being an idiot and took care of my perfect sister. Well, I hoped she would return to being my perfect sister after the baby was born.

  After a quick phone call with Nick, I was on my way to their house to pick up Kate. She was going stark raving mad and had badgered her doctor until she agreed to let Kate go out for a quick duration. She had chosen her favorite vice, so my job was to take her to the Prolific Oven for their famous chocolate on chocolate cake. Not a bad choice for me
at all. She could have wanted to do more shopping for the baby’s room (Even though literally nothing more would fit in it.) Chocolate cake always made things look better. This was going to be good.

  I hummed to myself as I walked up the path to her front door. I was about two feet away when the door swung open and Kate came waddling out. Wow! She seemed even bigger than she had when I saw her two days ago, during our rather unsuccessful attempt to stock the baby’s dresser with clean clothes. Apparently I have no skill in folding onesies, those little footy pajamas or anything else for that matter...

  I quickly plastered a smile on my face. “Hi, Kate! You look great!” Oooh, I might have gone a little too far.

  She barely glanced at me. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”

  OK! Off we go. I helped Kate into the car and had a particularly hard time getting the seat belt around her in a safe yet comfortable way. It was no wonder Nick had been lamenting his need for a padded cell.

  We quickly arrived at the Prolific Oven and I settled Kate at a table while I went to the counter to order the much-needed cake. After I had secured two servings of the most decadent chocolate concoction in existence and two decaf lattes, I sat down and peered tentatively at her.

  “How are you feeling?” I cringed inwardly as I waited for the answer. Her moods were rather unpredictable.

  She leveled her gaze at me and sighed. “Fat. Tired. Ugly. Evil.” She chuckled. Is that my Kate in there? I think I can see her!

  I smiled genuinely at her. “You’re NOT fat. You’re pregnant, Kate. And I don’t care if you tell me I’m being cheesy, but I think you’re beautiful.”

  Tears formed in her eyes. Oh crap! What have I done? No matter what I said, I upset her. Nick was going to kill me!

  I grabbed her hand. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  She smirked. “Don’t be silly, Syd. These hormones are killing me.” She paused. “And everything hurts – my back, my legs, my ankles, my head… I’m always worried about the baby. And I’m always tired.”