French Toast (The French Twist Series Book 2)

by Glynis Astie

  My father frowned. “He isn’t much of a drinker.”

  I nodded. “I know. That’s why it really worried me to find him with three bottles of alcohol on the table.” Granted it didn’t take much for me to start worrying. With my current state of stress, someone could simply look at me funny and I would need to be talked down from the ledge.

  Charlie met my eyes. “You know, when I got there last night, he didn’t seem drunk. I only put the bottles away as a precaution.”

  I held his gaze. “It’s really strange. The couple of times I’ve seen him have a few drinks, he didn’t act any differently than he normally does. Either he can really hold his liquor or he’s a very controlled drunk.” I played with my wedding ring while wondering which of these options was worse.

  Kate put a cup of tea in front of me. “Have you spoken with him this morning?”

  “No.” I rubbed my temples. “I’m being a total chicken.”

  My father cleared his throat. “Duck, you and Louis are facing a lot of difficulty right now.”

  Charlie laughed. “Tell her something she doesn’t know, Dad.”

  Zoe swiftly wacked Charlie in the stomach and told him to be quiet. I stifled a chuckle which was threatening to come out since it seemed rather inappropriate to laugh during the lecture I was about to get from my father.

  My father tried again. “Listen, marriage isn’t an easy thing. Plus, you set the odds against you when you married Louis so quickly after meeting him.”

  I hung my head and tried not to cry. I thought my father liked Louis. Now he was telling me I had made a mistake in marrying him.

  “Duck!”

  I snapped my head back up and stared at my father.

  He winked at me. “I’m not telling you that you made a mistake.”

  My eyes widened. When did he become a mind reader?

  He put his hand on the side of my face. “I’m just saying you have a lot of hurdles to get over.”

  Kate spoke to me gently. “We think you can do it, Syd. Marriage takes a lot of work.”

  I felt my eyes stinging with tears and tried my best to hold them in. Big shock, Sydney! Once again, you’re showing yourself to be the weakest link in the family.

  My father took my hand. “Syd, I’ve no doubt Louis is struggling as much as you are.” He sighed. “He’s a French man who grew up in a very traditional household. Being supported by you is hard for him to deal with.”

  A few tears rolled down my cheeks. “I know, Dad, but I’m having a difficult time being understanding when he’s acting like such a….”

  Charlie volunteered. “An asshole?”

  Zoe wrinkled her nose. “A jerk?”

  Kate chimed in. “A dumbass?”

  My dad settled it for all of us. “A fucking prick.”

  We all erupted into peals of laughter. My father has such a way with words. His comment was exactly what we needed to ease the tension of the conversation.

  “Listen, Duck. We all love Louis. None of us envy what you’re going through right now, but we all have faith you two kids can work it out.” He leaned closer to me. “Right now you’re coming to terms with the fact that he’s showing signs of being human.”

  What? I know he’s human! I used to think he was perfect, but that ship sailed once I started living with him. But if I really thought about it, until the last couple of months, he had been perfect in all the important ways. He had never let me down when I really needed him. He had talked me down from the ledge on a number of occasions. He had taken really good care of me.

  Suddenly, I felt like I was the fucking prick. That’s right, Syd! As your mother always says, save profanity for a special occasion. Like letting yourself know how much you’d let your husband down. Again. When was I going to learn?

  I exhaled loudly and decided to share my revelation with my family. “I think I’m the fucking prick.”

  Five pairs of eyes turned my way quickly, but no one said a word.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “What, no comments? No questions?”

  Zoe glanced around the room. “I’ll ask the question. Why?”

  I put my head against the back of the chair. “Because you all know what a complete nut I am.” Five heads bobbed up and down. “And Louis has put up with all my craziness since the very beginning. He hasn’t complained.” Uh oh…here come the tears. “He has only told me how much he loves me. And here I am…crumbling when he’s having such a hard time.”

  Kate came over to me. “Syd, you have a lot on your plate right now. It’s totally understandable you’re having…um…a little bit of trouble.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s not. A wife is supposed to take care of her husband. I have to stop being so selfish.”

  My dad wiped my tears away with his handkerchief. (I tried really hard not to wonder when he washed it last. My mom was in New York running the store and Kate had a baby to take care of…)

  “Duck, stop putting so much pressure on yourself. Take one day at a time and TALK to your husband. Be honest with him. You two can figure this out together.”

  Kate kissed the top of my head. “Listen, Sam is starting to sleep for a few hours at a time, which means I can help you finish the last few wedding details.”

  Nick tore himself away from his daughter to grin at me. “And as much as we love having you here, you can certainly spend more time at home with Louis.”

  Kate nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

  I bristled. “Are you trying to get rid of me? I don’t want Sam to forget about her Aunt Syd.”

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “Syd! She won’t forget about you.”

  Charlie laughed and wacked Zoe in the stomach. “And remember, Sydie, you can always call us. We know a thing or two about solving marital problems.”

  I chuckled, hearing Zoe tell him they would have much fewer problems if he would just listen to her. As I watched them bicker quietly, I wished for the hundredth time we didn’t live on opposite sides of the country.

  I bit my lip. “Well, my boss did tell me that things should slow down at work in a couple of weeks, so maybe the rest of my life will become more manageable.” Was that a glimmering of hope in my future?

  Kate grinned. “It’s all falling into place, Syd. One day at a time.” She started humming the tune to the seventies sitcom. Suddenly, everyone but my dad joined in and we had a spontaneous sing-along. We may have made up most of the words, but there was a great time had by all.

  My dad eyed each of us curiously. “You young people are a little nuts.”

  The four of us cracked up while my dad filed away another piece of evidence to share with my mom as to why we should all be committed to an insane asylum.

  I let out a few last cackles and decided to delve into a serious question. “Why does life have to feel like such a roller coaster?”

  My dad laughed. “That’s marriage, Duck. You feel giddy, sick and terrified all at the same time. And if you get off, you might feel safe, but it would be far too boring.”

  We all turned to stare at my father. Every now and then, he had these moments of absolute clarity. There was no sarcasm, no judgment. Just real, honest to goodness advice - like the endearing grandmother in the 1989 classic, Parenthood.

  He looked back at us with his clear blue eyes. “But if you want to throw in the towel, you can always have Louis deported.”

  Did I fail to mention these moments of clarity were usually followed by some kind of zinger? After all, my dad did have a reputation as a smart-ass to uphold.

  I closed my eyes and smiled as laughter exploded around me. Once again my family had shown me the way back to my sanity. Would I ever be able to find the path myself? Or would this job always belong to someone else? It seemed like an awful lot to ask of anyone. Was it really fair to continue to inflict this loathsome task on Louis? Especially in his current state of unease?

  Following a relatively relaxed breakfast with my family, I packed up my things and prepared myself for tearful go
od-byes. Charlie and Zoe were leaving for Napa today and had an early flight to New York the following morning. My father was leaving for the airport this afternoon and already had his suitcases waiting by the door. I really hated saying good-bye to them and once again cursed the conflict I felt about living on the west coast.

  I hugged each of them as tightly as I could and told them how much I loved them. They each left me with words of wisdom.

  “Cut him a little slack, Syd. The guy is down on his luck.” Charlie kissed the top of my head.

  Zoe held my hands. “It’s important to be understanding, but don’t let him walk all over you. Stay strong!”

  My dad pulled me close and whispered, “If that doesn’t work, hit him where it hurts. A good kick in the nuts will make you feel much better.”

  I really love my dad. He was able to make me laugh instead of cry as I left the three of them standing on Kate and Nick’s doorstep. I got into my car and drove away with a somewhat lighter heart. My family had reminded me both Louis and I were human. And being human sometimes involved making bad choices. As I pulled up to our apartment complex, I resolved to be the person I was meant to be. To be the wife Louis deserved. To finally harness the crazy once and for all. Don’t believe I can do it? Just watch me.

  Chapter Nine

  Over the next two weeks, Louis and I slowly began our journey back to each other. We had talked at length following that harrowing breakfast with my family. Louis confessed to me his immense difficulty with my earning the majority of the money to pay our bills. I told him I was resentful of his comments about my spending habits for our wedding. (There is only so much one can economize when it comes to the perfect wedding day.) I also told him I was really nervous about meeting his family and I might have taken out some of this stress on him. We agreed we would be more supportive of each other and would make a conscious effort to spend more time together.

  Mercifully, my workload lightened, allowing me more time to spend with Louis. However, in an attempt to bring in as much money as he could, Louis picked up more hours at the martial arts studio. I had the growing desire to tell him all the hours he spent toiling away didn’t bring in much money and his time would be better spent repairing his marriage. (Isn’t this in direct opposition to our commitment to spending more time together? Was I the only one listening?) However, in order to stick to my promise of being more supportive of him, I kept my mouth shut and searched for new ways to spend my free time.

  Maya was still pretty much MIA. I would get the occasional text message filling me in on her latest escapades with Devon, or if I were really lucky, she would send me an email complete with photos of the adorable couple. I hate to admit it, but I found myself jealous of her. The joyous looks on their faces reminded me of how I felt in the early days of my relationship with Louis. While things had gotten much better between us, there was always a hint of tension in the background, just waiting to spoil our hard won progress. Every day felt like a fight against feeling depressed and overwhelmed. Despite the obstacles, I kept telling myself we were going to win this fight together.

  A very happy consequence of my newfound free time was dinner with my good friends Nigel and Grace. Long before the days of Louis, Nigel was one of my roommates in a hastily found rental following the discovery of my boyfriend in a menage a trois (which didn’t include me). There were seven of us in total and while I tried to tell myself I was living in an episode of The Real World, San Francisco, it was really more like Big Brother gone very, very bad.

  The house was extremely old and desperately in need of remodeling and I was sharing one bathroom with FOUR boys. The house was also jokingly referred to as “The High House” since it was located on High Street, but there were definitely other reasons to call it as such. When I first moved in, I felt like I had jumped from one nightmare to the next.

  The silver lining of this questionable living situation was meeting my good friend, Nigel. British to the core, he had the most wonderful accent and the sunniest disposition of anyone I had ever met. These traits coupled with his slightly short stature and fair hair resulted in everyone in the house calling him “Pip.” Thankfully, he was an avid fan of South Park and possessed a wicked sense of humor, so the nickname was well received. Nigel’s company enabled me to face each day of my uncertain future. He made me laugh and accompanied me to more coffeehouses, bookstores and restaurants than I can remember.

  Shortly before I moved out of the High House, Nigel was asked out by a very attractive coworker of his named Grace. She was from Hong Kong, spoke Mandarin and was off the charts intelligent. Nigel was shocked at his good fortune, but I knew the depths of his delightful personality and felt Grace was every bit as lucky as he. Their romance moved fairly quickly and Nigel began staying over at Grace’s studio apartment on a regular basis. I didn’t blame him; I would have jumped at the chance to stay somewhere else too. (Especially given the incredibly gorgeous and charming company he was keeping.)

  Nigel and Grace moved in together a few months later and ended up getting married the following year. Though they felt it was a little fast, Nigel was being sponsored by his company for a green card and since Grace was from Hong Kong, she stood a better shot of getting a green card as his spouse than on her own from the same company. (I know, I know, immigration is confusing. Don’t let yourself get bogged down in the details.) They tied the knot at the city courthouse and I threw a wedding celebration dinner for them at my new apartment. My roommates, Jess and Maggie, were kind enough to help me construct a three tiered cake complete with accents of fresh flowers. Only the best for Pip and his lovely bride!

  Now that we have gotten through all of the preamble, we can get back to dinner. Nigel and Grace had asked me to meet them at one of our favorite bistros in downtown Palo Alto. After parking my car, I started walking to the restaurant, trying to remember if I had told them Louis wasn’t coming. I hoped they didn’t ask too many questions. I wasn’t in the mood for any serious topics tonight.

  As I approached the door, I caught sight of Nigel. He beamed at me and came over to give me a hug. I smiled and gave him a big squeeze. I desperately wished his good nature would transfer to me by osmosis.

  “Where is your useless husband?”

  I laughed. Louis and Nigel had an artificial rivalry going due to the natural dislike which existed between their two countries. Naively, I had thought they would instantly bond over being European, but was quickly educated to the contrary. In truth, they were good friends, but enjoyed mocking each other senseless. Crazy European men.

  “Louis had to work tonight.” I tried to keep a bright expression on my face, but wasn’t sure I could fool my friend.

  He kept his opinion to himself. “Well, then Grace and I will have the pleasure of monopolizing your company this evening.”

  Right on cue, Grace came up behind Nigel and smiled. “Syd! How are you?”

  I gave Grace a huge hug and told her how much I had missed her. She hooked her arm through mine and walked me into the restaurant leaving Nigel to bring up the rear. I felt a weight lift off my chest and breathed a sigh of relief that I would be able to relax for a while.

  Following a glass of wine and some amazing stuffed mushrooms, Grace asked me how the wedding plans were going.

  I took a sip of my merlot and pondered the answer. “Well, Kate has been amazing. She helped me choose the menu items for the cocktail hour, the reception and the post-wedding brunch. We also chose the cake, finalized the rehearsal dinner, selected invitations and found an affordable option for a honeymoon.” I was forgetting something. “Oh, and she helped me fix the whole bridesmaid dress debacle.”

  Grace appeared confused. “Dress debacle?”

  I giggled. “Kate’s chest is absolutely enormous from breastfeeding and she couldn’t fit into the dress we’d originally chosen.”

  Nigel almost choked on his beer. Grace and I had a good laugh as he mopped up the stray drops which escaped into his lap.

 
Grace helped Nigel right himself and turned to me. “So, how did you fix it?”

  I finished chewing the bread I had grabbed during the great beer clean up. “We chose a new dress for her in the same color as the other girls’ dresses.”

  Grace nodded. “That works.”

  Nigel cleared his throat. It must be time for an important question. “You will be having an open bar, right?”

  I laughed. “No, Mr. Frugal. You’ll have to get drunk on your own dime. We can barely afford the wedding as it is.”

  He regarded me with feigned horror as Grace slapped him in the back of the head.

  I laughed even harder. “Relax. You can drink as much wine and beer as you want on us.” I was exceedingly glad Nigel hadn’t mentioned that Kate was making all the final decisions with me instead of Louis. Nigel was one of my favorite people in the entire world, but he had very little tact. Grace did her best to prep him ahead of time in terms of items not to discuss, but he didn’t always follow her advice.

  Grace clapped her hands quietly. “Great job, Syd! You are in excellent shape with a little over three months to go.”

  I cocked my head to one side. Three months to go? Was it really so soon? It was mid-June and the wedding would be at the end of September, so Grace was absolutely right.

  Nigel grinned at the waitress when she set a large plate of pasta in front of him. I could see the anticipation in his eyes as he waited for her to finish serving Grace and me. I almost laughed out loud at his childlike enthusiasm for his favorite meal. His love of food made him incredibly easy to please.

  He took a huge bite of pasta and grinned at me. Once he swallowed, he asked me a question which struck terror into my heart. “So, who’s going to officiate the ceremony?”

  Apparently, I hadn’t thought of everything. Since Louis and I were already married, we didn’t need anyone to officiate, but we certainly couldn’t just stand there. What was I going to do? Tap dance for everyone? Have my father sing an aria? He was German, so he should know one….there were operas in Germany, right?