French Toast (The French Twist Series Book 2)

by Glynis Astie

  To Louis’ great disappointment, the call was from my father. I picked up the kitchen extension quickly and told him I would call him back on my cell phone in two minutes.

  I grabbed my phone out of my purse and dialed the store.

  “Duck! What’s going on? Why can’t you use your home phone?” My dad didn’t see the sense in using a cell phone when you had a perfectly good landline available. For someone who refused to wear a hearing aid, cell phones were a mixed blessing. He loved the convenience they offered, but hated the inevitable attack of poor connections.

  “Everything is fine, Dad. Louis has been waiting for a call with a job offer for two days now. He’s getting a little antsy. I don’t want to stress him out by tying up the landline.”

  “But don’t you have call waiting?” He sounded confused.

  I sighed. “Yes, Dad, but using the land line would cause my husband unnecessary stress. So I chose to use my cell phone.”

  “You young people and your bizarre reasoning.” Pot, kettle, old man. What was the point in saying it?

  I changed the subject. “So, how have you been, Dad? I’ve missed you!”

  “No kidding, Duck! Where’ve you been?”

  I leaned my head against my hand. “Wrapped up in final wedding arrangements.”

  “I thought you had everything tied up. Did something fall through?”

  “Everything is set for the California wedding.” I paused as I debated the nicest way to put this. “Louis’ mom has been making, um…a few last minute changes to the French wedding.”

  My dad pretended to choke. It was one of his favorite party tricks when he was trying to be funny. “What exactly does she have planned now?”

  I closed my eyes and tried not to feel sick. There had been seven outfit changes, three venue changes, two complete event overhauls and one wedding party replacement. One of Louis’ cousins had made Simone incredibly angry by insulting one of her culinary masterpieces at a pre-wedding tasting event. I silently wondered if she hoped for a last minute bride change, even though Louis and I were already legally married. I did not doubt she had a backup in mind.

  My dad coughed. “Are you still there, Duck?”

  I laughed. “I’m sorry, Dad. I was reliving some of the happenings of the last week. I would rather spare you the details. I wish I could’ve escaped it.”

  “I can’t wait to meet Simone. She’s starting to make you look normal!” My dad’s guttural laugh burst across the phone line.

  At that moment, our landline rang. I peeked at Louis and held my breath. Could it be?

  Louis answered the phone with a cautious expression on his face. He gave me the thumbs up sign to indicate it was indeed the company in question. Now we had wait to find out if the recruiter was telling the truth. It was doubtful the company would call directly to reject him, but you never knew.

  I was so wrapped up in the fate of Louis’ phone call, I forgot I had my Dad on the line.

  “Duck! Did I lose you? Damn cell phones…”

  I quickly surmised my dad was about to hang up and call me on our land line since this was the number he had memorized. I didn’t want Louis to have to deal with the constant beeping in his ear, because my dad wouldn’t give up until he got either a person or an answering machine.

  “Dad! Wait!” I yelled a little louder than I had meant to. I whispered a frantic apology to Louis and returned to my Dad. “Louis is on the phone right now about a job. I was momentarily distracted.”

  “So, did he get it?” My dad was unavoidably blunt.

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Well, how long has he been on the phone with them?”

  I thought about it. “Maybe four or five minutes?”

  He snorted. “How long does it take to offer someone a job? What is it with you kids these days and all of your preamble? Just get to the point!”

  I had to stifle a laugh since my father is one of the most long-winded people I know. But it would simply not do for Louis to have his hysterical wife in the background of his important phone call.

  I watched Louis to see if he had received any indication of the status of an offer of employment. Nothing was clear from the expression on his face. He just kept nodding and saying, “Yes” and “I understand.”

  I heard my dad’s voice again. “What’s going on now?”

  This was exasperating. “I have no idea. He isn’t saying much.”

  “Well, poke him in the ribs and ask him.”

  “Dad! I can’t do that. He’s on the phone. I can’t disturb him.”

  “Oy vey! You can’t disturb him. Like he’s negotiating world peace or something…”

  I wanted to throttle my father. Are these kind of statements payback for when I tortured him as a snotty eight year old? Is this his thanks for my many tantrums and cries of unfairness? Something told me this type of behavior would only get worse as he aged.

  Eventually, Louis turned to me and nodded his head. He directed his attention back the phone and said, “Thank you very much. I accept your offer.”

  I grinned from ear to ear. I gave my ecstatic husband a quick hug and he walked over to the dining room table to write a few things down.

  I spoke in a low voice to my dad. “He got it!”

  “What did you say, Duck? I can’t hear you. Stop mumbling.”

  I raised my voice a little. “He got the job, Dad!”

  “I think I lost you. All I’m hearing is static.” He paused for a second and then yelled in my ear. “Lyn! Bring me the other extension; this one is out of battery again. I need to call Syd back on her home phone. This cell phone business sucks.”

  No, no, no! “Dad!” Shit. He hung up on me. I dialed the store on my cell phone as quickly as I could and was thrilled when my mom picked up.

  “Syd? Your dad was about to call you back. He said he lost you.”

  I practically bit her head off. “He didn’t lose me! I was talking to him, but he couldn’t hear me because he won’t put in his damn hearing aid!”

  Calm down, Sydney. It wasn’t your mother’s fault.

  I exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry, Mom. Louis is on the landline getting a job offer, which is what I was trying to tell Dad.” I sighed. “I don’t want anything to ruin this moment for him.”

  She laughed. “Especially not your father’s incessant beeping.” We had all fallen victim to his impatient need to speak with us whenever he felt like it. He could be a total phone stalker.

  I allowed myself a small smile. “I’m so thankful, Mom. He’s been working so hard.”

  “Yes, he has. And so have you, Syd. It’s wonderful! You’ll both be able to relax – even if it’s just a little.”

  My mom knew only too well Louis would throw himself into his new job full force and her daughter was incapable of relaxing completely. Especially with two weddings on the immediate horizon.

  I laughed. “True enough. But it’ll be nice not to have to worry quite so much about money.” Another salary coming in meant I could afford to buy a new pair of sneakers. My old pair was in tatters from the exorbitant number of times I had used our apartment complex’s gym in an attempt to calm my frazzled nerves. All the exercise had done nothing to relax me, but I had inadvertently lost ten pounds!

  More money coming in also meant I could afford to buy a few new outfits to take with me to France instead of making do with what was in my closet and pilfering from both Kate and Maya. I was hoping Louis would help broker a few wardrobe changes for me with his mother so there wouldn’t be quite as many photos of me in scary ensembles. (Though we wouldn’t state this as the reason for the requested changes.) I honestly wasn’t sure if Simone was trying to embarrass me into not wanting to be part of her family anymore or making a desperate attempt to infuse me with an acceptable sense of style. She seemed to think my current fashion choices were exceedingly boring, so it really could be either option.

  My mom broke into my daydream. “You’re imagining the possibilities, a
ren’t you?”

  I grinned. “You know me too well, Mom.”

  Suddenly I heard my Dad in the background. “Did he get it or what?”

  My mom chuckled. “I love you, Syd. Pass on our congratulations to Louis. I’m going to give you back to your father. He’d love to finish his conversation with you.”

  “Duck! What’s the good word?” This expression always cracked me up. Isn’t the word “good?” Why is it a question? Though this time, I couldn’t wait to tell him the good word was good news! And he would hear me this time since the connection seemed to be solid. Something else to celebrate!

  “He got it, Dad!”

  “Good-o! That kid is really smart. I knew he would get it.”

  I guess my dad was busting out all his peculiar expressions involving the word “good”, but as this last expression was only used when he was really happy, I decided not to mock him. I was in too GOOD of a mood!

  After I hung up with my father, I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of champagne I had hidden for this very special day. It was made in the Champagne region of France, as any French person would expect from something which is referred to as champagne, and was decidedly not merely a sparkling wine made pretty much anywhere else. (I learned this courtesy of an hour long lecture from my new husband regarding the sparkling wine, mistakenly billed as champagne, which was served at our first wedding reception. French people take their champagne VERY seriously.)

  As I pulled out the glasses, Louis hung up the phone in triumph. I ran across the living room to him and engulfed him in a huge hug.

  “Congratulations, Bluey! You must be so excited!”

  He twirled me around a few times. “I AM excited! I have a job!”

  I giggled and squeezed him tightly. “When do you start?”

  His grin was enormous. “Monday.”

  I stared at him with wide eyes. Tomorrow was Friday. “That’s amazing! Will your background check have cleared in time?” Yes, these are the things I think of. It’s an occupational hazard of the Human Resources profession.

  He was too excited to stand still. “They are going to expedite my paperwork tomorrow. I will be able to work for a week and a half before we leave for France.”

  We grinned at each other for a few minutes. We had been under so much financial pressure for so long, we were positively giddy at the prospect of it coming to an end. Sure, we still had wedding expenses to deal with, but now we would have a lot more breathing room.

  I handed Louis the bottle of perfectly chilled champagne. “Will you do the honors, Monsieur Durand?”

  He sighed with contentment. “Absolument, Madame Durand.”

  Louis laughed as he popped the cork and filled our glasses until they were brimming with bubbly. We silently toasted our good fortune. Then we ripped each other’s clothes off and celebrated in a manner which would make me blush if I were to tell you the particulars.

  I fell asleep in Louis’ arms that night with nothing but happy thoughts swirling through my mind. We had finally overcome our many obstacles, we were hopelessly in love and had bright prospects ahead of us. Who knows? Maybe we would even be able to enjoy our painstakingly-planned weddings! I felt more relaxed and had a much more positive outlook on life than I had in a very long time. Things were looking up for Monsieur & Madame Durand. Little did I know, it would be quite a while before there was any peace in our future…

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following day, Louis snatched back my sense of relief by announcing his intention to purchase a motorcycle rather than a car as his mode of transportation to his new job. He reasoned it was less expensive and would allow him a faster commute, since he could legally ride in-between cars on the highway. Thank you, California, for your great concern for the safety of motorcyclists. I informed him, my mental health was worth the extra money for a car. Unfortunately, I didn’t win this battle since my husband is a self-proclaimed adrenaline junkie.

  It became apparent rather quickly that Louis had been planning this purchase for quite some time. Shortly after he dropped the motorcycle bomb on me, he casually mentioned how he had spent a great deal of time researching the exact model he wanted during the downtime of his job search. That evening, he brought me directly to a Yamaha dealership and asked for an R1. For those of you who are not familiar with motorcycles, this isn’t a bike which is used for leisurely rides down the highway. This is what is known as a RACING bike. Why would he possibly need a racing bike to get to work? The answer is rather simple: so he can reach his destination as quickly as possible AND can perform wheelies without fear of injury. As if this were not the most ridiculous statement EVER.

  While I tried to imagine not having a heart attack on a daily basis as a result of this “beautiful piece of machinery” (I choose to refer to it as a DEATH TRAP!), Louis informed me he was going to modify the engine in order to make it louder, thereby announcing his presence with authority to those suckers on the road who drove cars. He insisted it was a safety feature and I should appreciate this additional measure for my concern. He also bought a high quality helmet, protective jacket and gloves.

  I hadn’t seen such a huge grin on Louis’ face in many, many months. Not since our wedding day. This glaring similarity made it very clear to me the level of love he feels for motorcycles. I suppose it makes perfect sense; he has been riding some form of motorcycle since he was three years old. I guess I was hoping he would grow out of that phase of his life, because I wasn’t sure I would survive the massive amount of worry each time he got on his “crotch rocket.”

  In the end, the motorcycle cost just as much as a car (between the necessary protective gear, engine modifications and wicked expensive insurance), but Louis was so euphoric I had to keep quiet. I did not; however, keep quiet when he asked me if I would like to purchase protective equipment as well. I told him while I understood his great love for the rush he received with risking his life, I had no intention of ever getting on the back of his donor cycle. He simply smirked at me and told me I could always change my mind later.

  Once we returned to the apartment, Louis dove back into the reference material he was given when he signed his offer paperwork the day before. He had been able to have a short meeting with his new boss and had come back laden with textbooks. Louis has never been much for novels, but extremely tedious technical books about computer programming really get his blood going. He planted himself on the couch and immersed himself in the wonders of Java.

  After twenty-four hours of this nonsense (I’m honestly not sure if he slept), I had to get out of the apartment. Thankfully, I had been able to con Maya into going shopping with me for the afternoon. Not only did I need a few new outfits for our trip to France, but also, I needed someone to give me a slap upside the head. Of the verbal variety, of course. I once witnessed Maya literally bitch slap some nasty girl in a bar and it took the poor girl a good five minutes to get up. Maya may be petite, but she evidently packs quite a wallop.

  As an afternoon shopping with Maya never comes without a price, I met her at the Peninsula Creamery with the promise of paying for lunch. Since we had serious shopping to do, I insisted on going to the one in the Stanford Shopping Center. The easier the access to stores, the better. We had no time to waste!

  I arrived first and was perusing the menu, when I heard a familiar voice.

  “Why do you bother looking at the menu? You always get the same thing, Syd.”

  I peered up to find none other than Nigel grinning at me. I broke out into a grin of my own and jumped up to hug him.

  “What are you doing here, Pip?”

  He laughed and patted his stomach. “You’ve gotten me hooked on this place! And Grace hates you for it.”

  I smiled sheepishly at him. “Where is your delightful wife?”

  “Off at the shops. I have to meet her in Blooming-dale’s in an hour. Are you on your own?”

  Right as I was about to answer, Maya came up behind Nigel and poked him in t
he ribs.

  “Pip! How are you?”

  Nigel brightened at the sight of Maya and gave her a big squeeze. I have yet to meet a man who doesn’t brighten at the sight of this woman. It has become rather aggravating. Especially since she can be such a bitch.

  “Maya, you gorgeous girl, it is so wonderful to see you!”

  Maya and I took advantage of our happy coincidence of running into Nigel and asked him to join us for lunch. The two of them proceeded to talk for the next ten minutes without involving me in the conversation in even the smallest capacity. I had suddenly become obsolete. Not really the best feeling for someone in my mental state. I had introduced them, after all. They were supposed to be MY friends!

  Shit. Sensitive Sydney has joined the party. She’s a HUGE downer. She’s not as high maintenance as Crazy Sydney, but she sits in the corner and cries a lot. Not too much fun for anyone to be around.

  “Earth to Sydney!” Maya was tapping me on the shoulder.

  I shook my head and focused on her. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Pip asked you how Louis is doing.”

  I wanted to smack her across the face for giving me such attitude considering she had been monopolizing my friend for the better part of the meal. In order to distract myself from such an inclination, I turned to Nigel and smiled.

  “I’m sorry, Pip. I’m afraid I was lost in my thoughts. Maya really knows how to take over a conversation.” I ignored Maya’s dirty look and focused on Nigel. “Louis is doing really well. He’s really excited about his new job.”

  Maya coughed. “And his new motorcycle…”

  Nigel’s eyes widened. “He bought a motorcycle???”