by Glynis Astie
He nodded triumphantly. “He will be happy to be your photographer.”
I threw my arms up in the air and squealed. Kate and I jumped up at the same moment and hugged Nigel.
“You saved the day, Pip!” I beamed. “Thank you so much.”
Nigel held up his hands. “But wait, it gets better.”
Kate and I looked at each other. Better than saving my ass four weeks before my wedding? I couldn’t wait to hear this.
We stared at him expectantly.
“Ed said if you let him use some of your wedding photos on his website and provide a glowing reference for him, he will do the event for free.”
I started jumping up and down with excitement. “Are you serious?”
“Indeed, I am. He loved the photo I sent of you and said you will make a magnificent bride. He believes a photo of you in a wedding gown will help him book oodles of weddings.”
Kate grabbed Nigel and hugged him. “Pip! You’re amazing!”
Hot damn. A disastrous situation has suddenly become an amazing one – in the span of ninety minutes! I marveled at the outcome my friend with the sunniest disposition on earth was able to attain. Maybe happiness really was a super power.
I sighed with relief. “Pip, how will I ever be able to repay you for this?”
“It is all part of the job, fair maiden.” He winked at me. “But I did have some rather delicious chocolate this morning. Perhaps you can procure me a stash to bring home?”
I laughed, coming to the conclusion that many useful things could be accomplished by supplying men with their favorite treats. Yesterday, Monique had been able to get my dad to lay down his firearm for a chocolate mousse. This theory had some interesting possibilities. Maybe if I prepared Louis his favorite omelet, he would be able to get me out of the poetry reading tomorrow.
No, eggs weren’t enough. Frog legs? Escargot? Tripe? In addition to having no idea where to purchase any of these items, I would most likely hurl during any type of preparation. Hurling would not have the desired effect. It was going to take a miracle to get me out of this situation. And I think I just used up my miracle in the form of Ed, wedding photographer extraordinaire. Top Ten YouTube videos, here I come…
Chapter Twenty-Six
We have arrived at the home stretch! It is now T-minus fifteen hours until the wedding. Everyone has survived all necessary pre-wedding events relatively unscathed. (Have I mentioned how relieved I am about the absence of gunshot wounds?) Our journey has at long last led us to Saturday evening and the rehearsal dinner was about to begin.
Unfortunately for me, the arrival of the rehearsal dinner meant it was time for me to do something I had been dreading since the moment I had discovered its existence. For this evening’s event, I was obligated to don the atrocious dress my mother-in-law had purchased for me several months ago. You must remember my vivid description. I mean, I can’t imagine how anyone could possibly forget such a noteworthy ensemble. It’s the kind of image that will be etched in your mind. Forever. With no way to remove it.
Deep breath, Sydney. I need a moment to collect myself. OK, in case you’ve somehow forgotten, Simone had purchased a gold sequined halter mini dress, with red satin roses on the straps and red satin ruffles along the bottom of the skirt. Of course, she also had to purchase four inch red satin stilettos with matching red satin roses on the toes.
I just…I can’t think about my horrific ensemble right now, so let us deviate to another topic: our final hurdle, the grandest wedding Le Caylar had seen in some time. Was everything ready for the French wedding of the year? Undoubtedly. There was no question in my mind, Simone had enough “emergency” provisions for another two hundred people. Because you never knew when a large tourist group might get lost and wander into your private event. And really, what else would there be to do, as a person who inhabits a small town, but to invite them to stay and partake in the festivities?
Was I mentally ready for the last act to our French drama? I honestly couldn’t tell you. I had done the best I could to memorize the poem Simone had her heart set on. I had spent hours wondering what her motive had been in asking me to do such a thing. She had to have known this would cause me an undue amount of stress. Had she purposely asked me to do this to make my life harder? Was she punishing me for taking her son away from her? Did it really matter what her motivation was at this point? I simply had to make it through the next twenty-four hours and I would be able to relax. Or some approximation of it. Maybe. The point is I wouldn’t have to jump through any more hoops. I would finally be free!
A most welcome distraction for that evening came in the form of Devon. His arrival caused quite a stir amongst the ladies. It didn’t seem to matter what age; every one of them was completely taken with him. He is, after all, one of the most gorgeous men anyone has ever set eyes on AND he’s fluent in French. He may not have had the inside track on the regional accent or the appropriate slang, but it didn’t make a bit of difference. He had to beat those women off with a stick.
If there were a stick to be had, Maya would have done the beating herself. As the festivities began, I watched with great delight as she became progressively more annoyed. I imagined this was the first time in their relationship when his attention had been so severely monopolized elsewhere. Unfortunately for Maya, one of Devon’s trademark attributes was his impeccable manners. There was no way he would insult his hostess, or any member of her family, by not giving them his full attention. For once in her life, Maya had to get her own drinks. Does it make me a bad person that I found this to be completely hysterical?
I was filling my dad in on Maya’s impending temper tantrum, when I was momentarily distracted by a bizarre turn of events. I glanced over at Louis’ father to find him distraught. This was rather alarming, since Michel was always in a good mood. What had happened? Oh my God, was he upset about the wedding tomorrow? Did he want to talk Louis out of marrying me?
Wait a minute. We’re already married, so that couldn’t be it. Wow. I think I’m actually losing it this time. How could I have forgotten I’m already MARRIED to Louis? I’ve been married to him for over seven months. It’s possible the extreme amount of stress I’ve been under for the past week and a half has taken its toll on my already fragile mental state. I had better find Louis and tell him it’s time he committed me to a nice, cozy insane asylum.
All jokes aside, I was really worried about Michel. My dad and I had been watching him for ten minutes now, but his expression didn’t improve. He had always been kind to me (to the point of telling me not to worry about HIS crazy wife); I had to do something to help him. I excused myself from my dad’s company and immediately sought out Louis to discover the cause of Michel’s unease.
After ten minutes of fruitless searching, I eventually located my wayward husband inside the house, ostensibly fixing his mother’s computer.
“Bluey! There you are. I’ve been all over the place looking for you. Why are you in the house?”
He sighed. “My mother has insisted I fix whatever she has done to her ancient computer right away.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really? At the start of the rehearsal dinner? For your own wedding?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes and yes. For some reason, she neglected to tell me about this issue for over a week! She has now decided it must be fixed as soon as possible because there is a video on the hard drive which she has to have for the wedding reception.” He looked like he wanted to strangle her.
I laughed. “Are you sure you want to help with this task? I mean, has she told you what the content of the video is?”
He froze. “It couldn’t be…”
I walked over to him and put my hands on his shoulders. “What does she have on you?”
He shook his head. “Years ago she made this montage of all my Thai boxing fights. It is too much.” He frowned. “I bet this is what she wants.” He turned off the computer and took my hand.
I rubbed his back. “Is it really that
bad?”
One look from him told me it was indeed that bad.
As we walked out the front door, I poked him in the side. “I thought you were proud of your career as a Thai boxer.”
“I am. It was an amazing time in my life, but it is over now and I do not feel the need to parade my victory videos in front of every person I know.”
I squeezed his hand. “She’s really proud of you.”
He stopped and turned to me. “Yes, she is very proud, but I sometimes feel her focus is more on showing off.”
I grinned at him. “Who wouldn’t? I show you off at every opportunity!”
He kissed me tenderly. “I love you, mon coeur.”
I put my arms around him and kissed him deeply. It had been quite some time since Louis and I had had some proper alone time. Since we arrived in France, Simone had every minute so tightly-booked that we barely had time to breathe. I was really looking forward to our night in Paris, when it would just be the two of us in our beautiful hotel room in the George V…
Suddenly, I remembered why I had come looking for Louis in the first place. It took every ounce of my strength, but I pulled out of our incredibly sensual kiss. Louis began to protest, but I smacked him playfully on the chest.
“I’m sorry, Bluey, but I need to talk to you about something important.”
He started caressing my hips. “Really? Would you like to discuss this somewhere a little more private? You look so sexy in that dress.” He tried to push me back towards the house.
I laughed. “Louis Durand! Get a hold of yourself!” I wasn’t even going to address his absurd comment about how I looked in this ridiculous dress. Sexy was not even a remote possibility. Even the most gorgeous supermodel would look awful in this dress. The things I had to go through for this man!
He grinned. “I am not sure this is the best setting for me to ‘get a hold of myself’, mon coeur.” He took my hand. “Perhaps you might help me…”
Clearly my husband had needs to be met, but now was not the time. I had to snap him back to reality.
I took my hand back and pointed a finger forcefully at his chest. “I need your help with something.”
He opened his mouth to say something – no doubt some type of double entendre – but I immediately put my hand up. He could see I meant business.
I gazed at him with my sad brown eyes. “Bluey, something is wrong with your dad. I’m really worried. Do you know what happened?”
Louis sighed. “He is upset about Poupette.”
I had no idea how to respond to that. Who or what was Poupette?
Louis sensed my confusion and clarified. “The little black poodle. She is my dad’s favorite.”
I nodded in recognition. I hadn’t been successful in remembering the names of all SEVEN of Simone and Michel’s dogs. I’m shocked I didn’t remember the name Poupette since there are a ton of jokes which can be made from this name if you happened to be an uncouth American. (And of course, I’m NOT. But I do know a few…) My heart went out to Michel; Poupette was his constant companion.
I cleared my throat. “What happened to her?”
Louis shrugged. “No one knows. She has been missing since this morning.”
I knitted my brows. Michel had seemed fine earlier in the day. Perhaps reality had set in and he realized she wasn’t coming back on her own?
I wondered how much had been done to find her so far. “Where was the last place she was seen?”
“Out by the chicken coop. My dad had gone down to check out a broken hinge. He didn’t realize she was not with him until he sat down at the breakfast table. He spent the morning looking for her, but had no luck.” He sighed. “He has been in a funk since lunch.”
“I’ll bet he has.” Michel must be beside himself by now. No wonder he looks so distraught.
Louis smiled at me. “Syd, what are you concocting in that brain of yours?”
I chewed on my lip. “I have a plan. Do you have any flashlights?”
Thirty minutes later, I had a team of three and a bunch of supplies. I had managed to rope in Charlie and Nigel, while Louis insisted Monique come with us as our guide. Louis’ job was to distract his mother so she didn’t realize her daughter-in-law was missing. Thankfully, the toasts wouldn’t take place until the end of the meal, so we had around ninety minutes to work with.
As we were about to set off on our search, I recognized we were missing one crucial member. It took me all of two minutes to locate her sulking by the makeshift bar on the terrace.
I tapped Maya on the shoulder. “I need you, my friend.”
She scoffed. “At least someone does.” She stared bitterly in Devon’s direction. He was surrounded by no less than ten panting women. Obviously, Maya was going to have to pry him away from his throngs of admirers at the end of the night. She seemed like she very much wanted to kill someone - quite possibly me since I was standing right in front of her. I decided we needed to get going on our quest tout de suite.
“What do you need, Syd?” She swayed a little in her five inch heels. Evidently, she had been drowning her sorrows in a few cocktails.
I used my hands to steady her. “Maybe you should sit down.”
Maya smacked my hands away and smoothed her dress. “I’m fine. Now, how can I help?”
I surveyed her doubtfully. It seemed like she was in more of a position to need help rather than to give it. But Maya was one of the most stubborn people I knew, so I had better just fill her in.
“Well, Maya, Poupette has gone missing…”
She immediately interrupted me. “You want me to help you look for a piece of poop? Are you fucking crazy?”
About twenty people peered towards us in an attempt to locate the source of the commotion.
I grabbed Maya by the shoulder, turned her around and walked her to the side of the house where the rest of the search party was waiting.
“Jesus Christ, Maya! There’s no need to make a scene!” I gathered my hair in my hands. “We’re looking for Michel’s favorite dog, POUPETTE.”
Maya was about to protest when her brain processed the content of my last statement.
Charlie joined in. “You know, Maya, the little black dog with all the spunk?”
Nigel chuckled and appraised Maya. “She reminds me a bit of you!” In response to Maya’s withering stare, Nigel began to backpedal. “Well, you know, Poupette is petite and dark and very…um…spunky like Charlie said, which is really rather a good thing...”
Maya thought it over for a moment. “OK, I’ll help you.” Then she turned to Nigel. “But, Pip, if you ever compare me to a dog again, there will be serious consequences.”
Nigel gulped. “Will never happen again. I promise.”
Maya took Monique’s arm. It appeared the two of them would be leading us on our expedition. I checked my watch. We had seventy-five minutes until toast time. I crossed my fingers and hoped we would make it. I couldn’t stand to see Michel looking so heartbroken. We had to find that dog!
Thirty minutes later, we were no closer to our endgame. We were all a little worse for the wear though; some of us a bit worse than others. As careful as I was, I managed to break one of my godforsaken heels in a soft patch of dirt. It would seem Monique possesses the same MacGyver genes as Louis, and she had me fixed up in about two minutes with a stick of gum. Perhaps French gum contains a tiny amount of actual adhesive? I swear, my heel was as good as new! Maya walked face first into a fence, catching the hem of her dress and tearing an absurdly large hole. Charlie bruised his knee by accidentally slamming it into a large boulder. (Our flashlights, like us, weren’t very bright.) But the worst off was Nigel who fell face first into a huge patch of mud. Yuck.
Despite our extensive search, there were no clues as to Poupette’s current location. There weren’t even signs of any kind of disturbance. What could have happened to her? She would never have left Michel’s side voluntarily. He gave her all the food she wanted as well as an unlimited supply of affecti
on. There was definitely something despicable at work here.
Did someone have a vendetta against Michel? It seemed like an absurd thought, given his extremely good natured demeanor. What could he have done to upset anyone? This mystery could take days to unravel. We had exactly forty-five minutes.
I looked at Monique helplessly. She cocked her head to the side and took off running. She must have had some kind of breakthrough! Maybe we would be able to save the day after all!
A quick jog took us to the barn. As a quick aside, let me recommend NEVER running in four inch stilettos. Even if your life is in danger. It’s incredibly painful and the potential for injury is astronomical. Should you be running for your life, you may very well have better odds disabling your attacker with your razor-sharp heels.
Monique darted inside with the rest of us in hot pursuit. Once we arrived inside the barn, I yanked my skirt down in a most unladylike display. After our sprint, it had ridden up to about two inches below my ass and I had no desire to let it go any further. It was bad enough the halter top of the dress had come loose earlier in the evening and I almost flashed the entire Durand family.
Thank God I didn’t give them fodder for a “Girls Gone Wild” joke. I don’t think I could have lived through that kind of embarrassment. Wearing this dress in public was about as much as I could handle. Given the dozens of photos Maya had already taken (including the close call of breast exposure), this dress would serve to embarrass me for years to come. Even after I burned it.
Maya studied me quizzically. “Did you need to adjust your lady parts?”
I rolled my eyes at her. “No, sweetie. I didn’t want to EXPOSE my lady parts.”
Nigel laughed nervously as he turned bright red. (I could still see his blush under the layer of mud he was unable to wipe from his face.) I sometimes forgot what a proper Englishman he was. How did he fall in with such a group of vulgarians?
Charlie put his hand on my shoulder. “I hate to interrupt you two…um, ladies, but I think Monique found something.”
