French Toast (The French Twist Series Book 2)

by Glynis Astie

  Kate put her arm around me. “Syd, everyone’s having fun. This visit is going to be a success. Just you wait.”

  Zoe wandered out from the house to find us all watching the menfolk. “What’s going on, ladies?”

  Maya snorted. “We’re enjoying the view.”

  Zoe shook her head and very wisely changed the subject. “You won’t believe what’s going on in the kitchen! Simone does NOT do anything halfway. You have to see what she’s bringing out for dessert.”

  Five minutes later, the largest chocolate mousse I’ve ever laid eyes on emerged from the Durand home. It took four women to carry it and two additional women to help settle it onto the already heavily laden table. It was a very good thing the table was made of stone.

  After an hour of eating, the entire family had only been able to consume about a third of the massive mousse. I had no idea where Simone was going to put the leftovers and had no desire to think about it given how packed her THREE refrigerators were. (She literally had enough food to feed an army.) Yesterday, I observed her retrieve an item she needed from the back of one of the shelves and watched in fascination as she fit every item back in exactly the right place so the door would close. It was like an edible game of Tetris.

  In the end, I think the first evening our families spent together turned out well. Sam was the most popular American visitor by far. There wasn’t a heart she wasn’t capable of capturing. This little girl had SKILLS! Maya was a close second. While all the Frenchies found her charming, Louis’ sixteen year old second cousin, Felix, was completely taken with her. He followed her around for most of the evening, fetching whatever her heart desired and gazing at her longingly. The poor kid was going to be bitterly disappointed once Devon came on the scene.

  I was delighted the evening was such a resounding success. With the start of the official wedding events tomorrow, I felt a small sense of unease that our hard won bubble of happiness would be burst by outsiders. We would have to wait and see if our newfound bond would be able to sustain the onslaught of les visiteurs, le vin and voila – the mother of all meals, the French wedding banquet.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The official start to the pre-wedding events for the Durand-Bennett party begins today! Are you ready? Good, because I’m not sure I am. Even though last night’s welcome dinner was definitely a success, I woke up this morning with renewed nerves. Today would bring a vast amount of extended family, friends as well as foes posing as friends. I wasn’t sure how much stamina I had left when it came to nefarious schemes and backhanded comments. However, I could take solace in knowing I was no longer on my own in the battle.

  It seems with the start of the official events, Simone had reverted us back to our gender specific daytime activities. The women would begin the day with a tour of the town, followed by a choir concert at the church, followed by a picnic on the lawn of the church and would end the afternoon with a lengthy session of ballroom dancing in the church’s lesson room. The men, on the other hand, would spend the morning touring the town as well (but apparently the men’s version), followed by lunch at Louis’ Uncle Remi’s bistro and would spend the afternoon hunting on the family’s property. I just hoped none of my relatives got shot. Or shot anyone for that matter. I had no idea the last time any of the men in my family had handled guns.

  The evening would take us to Louis’ Aunt Jacqueline’s house for dinner. Invitations had been limited to immediate family and out-of-town guests, so I was guessing a total of around fifty people at dinner. In comparison to a number of other dinners we attended during the last week, fifty people felt rather intimate. I might get to join in a conversation this time!

  I found myself a little nervous as I got ready that morning. Louis had left at the crack of dawn to help his father and uncles go through all the guns in the family arsenal. They had spent pockets of time over the last week cleaning the guns, but they wanted to give each one a final check before they were used this afternoon. The last thing they wanted was for one of their visiting American relatives to meet with an unfortunate accident. Even if it was as a result of their own stupidity.

  A few minutes later, I went out to the terrace to find breakfast in full swing. My entire family was at the table with Simone and her sisters, Jacqueline and Seraphine. I hung back for a moment, just to soak it all in. Neither Louis nor I were present and they seemed to be doing fine on their own. Sure, there was the usual preponderance of dictionaries and makeshift sign language, but everyone was smiling.

  My dad was the first to notice I was lurking in the doorway. “Duck! Come and eat! You’re going to need your strength if you have any prayer of not injuring yourself before your wedding. Ballroom dancing is not exactly your forte!”

  My mom swiftly excused herself from a conversation with Simone and Seraphine and scowled at my father. “Don’t listen to your father, sweetheart. You’ll be fine.”

  My father looked at me doubtfully. His superior attitude was palpable. I reminded myself I had to be on my best behavior in front of Louis’ family. I was fairly certain any physical expression of sarcasm (such as smacking him in the back of the head), might be perceived as a sign of disrespect and land me back in the entitled American category. Fine. There are other ways to get my point across.

  I kissed him on the cheek and smiled sweetly. “Please make sure that you come back from your adventure with all your limbs still intact.”

  I grinned at the Durand-Bennett party, said a blanket “Bonjour” and sat down next to Charlie. As I began to gather pastries for breakfast (perhaps there was something to my father’s theory of proper sustenance), I leaned over and whispered to my brother.

  “When was the last time he fired a gun?”

  Charlie paused. “The Korean War?”

  I slapped my hand to my forehead. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m honestly not sure. I think he used to go target shooting with his old army buddies in the eighties…”

  I sighed. “So we have no confirmation he’s shot any kind of firearm in more recent past? Like within the last ten years?”

  Charlie shook his head. “I checked with Mom, but she isn’t sure either. He doesn’t always tell her what he’s up to. She thinks he’s enjoying making her wonder about his safety today.”

  I regarded Charlie grimly. “I guess we’ll have to cross our fingers and hope for the best.” I paused. I was about to ask Charlie if he would keep his eyes open for danger when he beat me to the punch.

  “I’ll do the best that I can, Syd. I’m going to need a refresher course in shooting myself.”

  I put my arms around Charlie and squeezed. “Please, be careful.”

  I returned to my breakfast preparation and thought about the possibility of outcomes from today’s event. 1) My dad, Charlie and Nick could all come back unharmed. 2) One of them could accidentally get shot. 3) Two of them could accidentally getting shot. 4) All three of them could end up getting shot. 5) Each of them could end up accidentally shooting one of Louis’ relatives, a member of their own family or themselves. OK, I can’t think about this anymore.

  Kate sat down next to me. “No one is going to get shot, Syd.”

  I nodded with as much confidence as I could muster. “If you say so.”

  She smiled. “C’mon, you know I’m always right. Besides Louis promised me he would look out for them. There’s no need to worry.”

  She did have two very good points. She was always right, as annoying as that fact was. And you couldn’t find a better bodyguard than Louis. I closed my eyes and recognized I was going to have to let it go. It’s not like I could go with them and try to run interference for their recklessness.

  I opened my eyes and sighed. It was time to get going. I kissed Kate on the forehead, stood up and made my way towards the house. Still munching on a croissant, I lamented how I had enough to worry about on my own today. And it started with the tour of the town. A tour on which I would be quizzed by
my mother-in-law. No pressure or anything.

  As I was trying to decide whether this morning’s tour or this afternoon’s ballroom dancing session would be the more humiliating experience, Maya came up to me with a huge grin on her face.

  “You’re enjoying this far too much, my friend.” I paused. “And I use the term ‘friend’ very loosely. Real friends wouldn’t be this excited to witness the certain shame of their loved ones.”

  She scoffed. “Get a grip, Syd. There will be no shame today.”

  I regarded her with disdain. “Really? You’re banking on my ability to a) UNDERSTAND my mother-in-law’s questions realizing there is both slang and southern twang at work, b) know the ANSWERS to her questions and c) relay the answers using BOTH the correct vocabulary words AND corresponding articles as well as mastering a passable regional accent?”

  Maya pursed her lips. “Admittedly, this morning’s activity will be a bit challenging.” While she tried to figure out how to put a positive spin on the situation, another one of my cheerleaders joined the conversation.

  Zoe laughed. “Like this afternoon is going to be any better.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to…what? Center myself? Harness my chi? Find God? I honestly have no idea. I only wanted a moment in which I didn’t have to look at the smug faces of those who supposedly loved me.

  I opened my eyes again and gave them each my best attempt at a withering stare. “I hate you both.” I then turned on my heel and left as they exploded into giggles. A tad dramatic, indeed, but I had been looking forward to a little encouragement, perhaps even a little sympathy with the arrival of my family. Instead, these two appeared to be enjoying a front row seat to my endless discomfort.

  I silently hoped my mom and Kate would refrain from mocking me. I was so close to the end of this three ring circus, I could taste it. Only three more days of being on display. You can do this, Sydney! Three more days!

  Mercifully, I was able to stumble through the morning tour of Le Caylar without embarrassing myself. Well, I think I did. I wasn’t able to understand everything Simone said, but no one burst out laughing at any point so I considered it a win. I received a number of bewildered looks following some of my answers, but no one laughed!

  Once the dust settled from the morning tour, it dawned on me that I hadn’t seen a member of the ex-pack since yesterday afternoon. Had they gotten bored with me? Or were they simply not ready for another dose of humiliation since the rest of the American posse had now joined the party? I may never know. And I’m happy to say I couldn’t care less. I had more important things to focus on – like the lunch break I was going to have before this afternoon’s obstacle of ballroom dancing.

  Following the graciously short choir concert, we were served a lovely “picnic” on the front lawn of the church. Simone had really outdone herself this time. She had set up dozens of tables which were beautifully decorated with linen tablecloths, fresh flowers and delicate china and crystal. She had also included all my favorite foods. There was a plethora of fresh bread and pastries, eggplant spread, a variety of salamis, olive tapenade, an assortment of mild cheeses and pate and a gigantic amount of CHOCOLATE.

  I thanked her profusely and wondered if deep down, she really did like me. Mind you, she had never done anything overtly rude to me, I just got the feeling she would have been happier if her son had married a French woman and lived down the street. While it was a bit naïve on her part to believe Louis would have been happy to stay in such a small town, it was certainly a reasonable expectation that her daughter-in-law would speak French. I suddenly felt very guilty for not putting more effort into my studies. The very least I could do after stealing her son was to be able to communicate with her in her own language. French lessons would be put back at the top of my list as soon as we returned to the US. Perhaps as soon as our Monterey wedding is over would be a better idea...

  I wish I could say the afternoon went even remotely well. I knew going in, I wouldn’t be successful at ballroom dancing, given my decidedly klutzy nature as well as my less than stellar performance at last week’s ballroom dancing activity. I believe Simone thought I was still jetlagged last week. Louis is far too much of a gentleman to tell his mother that his wife is…um…athletically challenged. My complete lack of rhythm coupled with eating far too much delicious food at the picnic didn’t set me up for success. I had a sinking feeling, despite my best efforts, Simone was going to be sorely disappointed.

  Once we finished lunch, all I could think about were the men in my family handling guns. Old school, hard core firearms. Some of Louis’ uncles have even experimented with creating their own ammunition. I speculated on the odds they would bring said ammunition with them for this special event or if they would decide to be more conservative and go with the store bought kind. I sincerely hoped for option two as ammunition manufactured by professionals probably had a better chance of functioning properly.

  Complicating matters further was with all Louis’ male relatives currently hunting on the Durand property, the men available to dance with seemed like complete strangers to me. The sad part was I had no doubt met a good portion of them during the last week, but my mind was on overload trying to remember the people I was related to as Madame Durand. I had no option but to boldly soldier on and fervently hope I didn’t fall on my ass. Or my face. Or anything else important.

  I wasn’t helping the odds in any way by stalking my mother-in-law. I was convinced if anyone were in mortal danger, she would receive a call on her cell phone. I therefore guided each one of my partners in her direction for the duration of the afternoon. I understood it was most unladylike to LEAD, but I was out of my mind with worry. Besides, despite all my hard work this week to convince them otherwise, the majority of the townsfolk still thought I was odd. Why not use it to my advantage?

  So I spent the next few hours watching Simone like a hawk, whilst, quite frankly, annoying the crap out of my dance partners. I led them all over the dance floor in hot pursuit of my target and spent almost the entirety of each dance staring in her direction instead of smiling and attempting to make small talk. Probably not one of my best decisions, but honestly, when was I going to see any of these men again? I mean, other than the events of the next two days? I KNOW, I’m a real prize.

  Simone took a total of eight calls over the course of three hours, but they all seemed to be gossipy in nature. I wondered who in the world she could be talking to considering that all her friends were in attendance of this event. I suppose it’s possible she has friends who were not able to travel from a distance to be here. Or there was the distinct possibility she was gossiping with either her husband or her brother, who were on the hunt with my family members. Hmmm. Well, I’m sure she wouldn’t be laughing if anyone were truly in danger…

  By the time we made it to dinner, I was dead on my feet. When we were reunited, I hugged my father, Charlie and Nick tightly and nearly wept with relief. (I wasn’t worried about my husband in the least. He had been around guns all his life.) My father just laughed, patted my cheek and told me I worry too much. He could be as smug as he wanted. It didn’t bother me in the least. They’d all come back unharmed and I could breathe properly for the first time in a few hours.

  After a couple glasses of wine, I felt much better. Our happy family shared a wonderful meal, courtesy of Aunt Jacqueline, who is an amazing chef. Everyone was in high spirits and I felt the tension ease from my body. Tomorrow we would be going to Uncle Luc’s vineyard. No guns involved. No weapons of any kind. The odds of anyone suffering bodily harm were extremely remote.

  At the end of the meal, the traditional setup fell into place. The men went outside to digest and shoot the breeze and the women headed to the kitchen to clean up. Admittedly, it was rather sexist, but when in Rome! Maya, of course, bucked tradition and joined the men outside for relaxation time. Always a welcome addition to any party, she was able to make her rebellious behavior delightful to her audience.

  While the me
n enjoyed a bit of leisure time following the arduous task of eating, my mom, Zoe, Kate and I joined the assembly line of dish washing in the kitchen. Everyone was happily chatting away, when all the sudden there were gunshots outside. Well, I thought there were, but no one else in the kitchen seemed to be disturbed.

  Was I so tired from my afternoon of intense worrying that I was having auditory hallucinations? It was entirely possible. I have a very active imagination. I glanced at Kate to find her furrowing her brow. Shit. There was no way she was sharing in my hallucination. I ran to the window to find out what was going on, taking care not to drop the plate I was in the process of drying.

  Apparently, the afternoon of shooting wasn’t enough for our testosterone fueled party. Some genius had brought out a few guns and had GIVEN ONE TO MY FATHER. As if he had not tempted fate enough today. I felt all the color drain from my face as I met my mother’s eyes. She attempted to appear perfectly calm, but I could see she was panicking as much as I was. She tactfully excused herself to “go to the bathroom” and made a quick detour outside.

  Zoe had quickly assessed something frightening was going on and joined Kate and I at the window. The three of us stood there barely breathing, absently drying our plates as we watched my mother approach Charlie. They had an animated conversation which ended with Charlie shrugging his shoulders and rolling his eyes. That couldn’t be good.

  A few minutes later, my mother returned to the kitchen with a fake smile plastered on her face. Kate, Zoe and I deposited our dried plates in the pile and made our way over to her. We stood in front of her expectantly, hoping she had something positive to tell us.