CHAPTER 12. WILHELM AND JACQUES 'AIR THEIR DIRTY LAUNDRY
[Chapter 13 will be available on July 1, 2015]
The
next morning Vanessa woke up exceptionally happy. Charlie was
licking her face, back where he belonged after his scary dog
napping. Yesterday afternoon, the very kind policeman had stopped
by again to see if she remembered any more details about the man in
the car. He assured her the police would not stop looking for this
“miserable thief who would steal a person's most valuable
possession, after one's children, of course.” They did not want
any more pets to go missing.
Vanessa
wracked her brain for bits of memory about Mr. Lay who she thought
had to have been the man who snatched Charlie. She mentioned that
she'd thought it odd for someone to book a last minute flight, at
probably enormous cost, to fly to France to see a dog he'd never seen
before. The policeman agreed, gave Charlie a good-bye pat, saluted
Edmond, and got back on his bicycle.
After
breakfast Vanessa and Charlie took a walk around the Chateau's
property. She wasn't about to risk another country walk in case Mr.
Lay came back. Now that her companion was back she could concentrate
on her other worry. The lavender cooking contest.
Jack
said she was doing well, and she did feel that her cooking skills had
improved. But how could they not when she'd started with zero
cooking skills. Sometimes she thought the whole idea was a joke.
Why did they have a cooking contest after the lavender had been
harvested and all that was left was dried product? Why did someone,
not a relative, have to be the actual cook? She asked Charlie but he
just barked joyfully, happy to have her attention and certainly not
worried about any cooking contest.
As
she raised her head from talking to Charlie, she saw Lucy strolling
towards her. This morning Jack's flamboyant sister was wearing a
flowing red, orange, and pink shift partnered with bright pink
sneakers. “Allo, so glad to see you happy again, but why were you
talking to the little guy?”
Vanessa
felt Lucy was one person who wouldn't be offended if she asked her
possibly rude questions. She repeated her concerns.
Lucy
laughed, “But we are French. And we love tradition. These rules
may seem arbitrary and contrary to common sense today but when they
were first set I'm sure they were reasonable.” She nodded her
head, her copper curls shimmering in the sun. “We French pride
ourselves on our rational thought. But don't ask me how they made
sense. All I know is that the contest dates back at least sixty
years, to after World War II when the lavender fields were
replanted.”
Vanessa
reined in Charlie who was pulling out his leash as far as it would
go. “Well, I'll do my best. I know my mother's very fond of
Michelle and I'm happy to do what I can to help. But I hope you all
won't be too disappointed when I don't win.”
“Non,
non, remember “la fortune sourit aux audacieux.”
“I'm
sorry my French isn't up to that.”
“Oh,
I forgot. It's a motto that my father pounded into each of us. It
means 'Fortune favors the bold'. So when you go in to compete, do
not even think of losing. Remember you have been taught by the best,
Jacques Sevigny. And if he were here now, he would demand we all bow
at his name.”
Vanessa
laughed. “Yes, he probably would.”
Later,
at that day's cooking lesson, Jack had her put together the various
procedures he'd been teaching her, and cook the dish from beginning
to finish. Although nervous, Vanessa had practiced each of the steps
so many times she was comfortable moving from one to the next. And
she glowed with pride as the finished dish was ready in time for the
entire family to enjoy it for dinner that night.
Lucy translated for Vanessa so she didn't miss any of the comments.
Michelle's grey eyes sparkled with amusement as she read the special
menu card that Jacques had printed up for the family.
“Lavender
Pork Loin with Gingered Figs and Raisins.
So
this is the secret recipe that Jacques has been developing for so
long, and then spent so much time teaching to Vanessa. It has a most
delicious aroma!”
Her
husband, Wilhelm, wrinkled his nose. “Yah, yah, better than last
year's disaster.”
Jacques
glowered at him. “That was not my fault. You gave me inferior
lavender to use.”
Wilhelm
sneered. “If you are such a good chef, why did you not recognize
it as inferior and refuse to use it. It was excellent and you knew
it. You
gave it to your cook to use but your miserable
recipe
failed.”
Vanessa
was appalled that Lucy was translating the disagreement. Maybe Lucy
wanted her to know why there was bad feeling between Wilhelm and
Jack. So now she knew that part of it was tied up in last year's
contest. No wonder Jack
was so adamant about her cooking
skills
being perfect.
Wilhelm's
mother, Madame
Heidi Werner, with
her white hair pulled back into its ever present bun and wearing
another beautiful black dress, coughed softly for attention.
“Wilhelm, I'm sure Jacques has
done his best. If Vanessa fails, you must be kind and remember she
is only American.”
The
others gasped, but Lucy guffawed as she translated the words adding,
“I don't know why she doesn't tell us what she really thinks of
you.”
Michelle
speaking in partial
English which it seemed Madame did not understand, apologized. “Mon
cher,
dear Vanessa, per
favore,
please remember Madame est
une vieille femme,
an old woman and doit
être pardonné
must be forgiven. You know we all adore you.”
Of
course, Vanessa thought Michelle was right, and she would ignore the old woman's
comments. But she noticed with satisfaction that Heidi'd flinched when
she heard the words est
une vieille femme.
The
rest of the dinner was pleasant with the others plying Vanessa with
compliments about the dish and pretty much ignoring Wilhem and his
mother. Vanessa actually had to admit to herself that the pork and its garnishes was
good, especially being
prepared by
someone who'd never cooked before coming to France. She knew though
that cooking in a home kitchen with a supportive chef was much
different than cooking in a timed competition without any support.
But she'd try not to worry about that, until she needed to.
After
dinner, Edmond intercepted her with a phone message from the
local police. They believed they had arrested the dog napper and
tomorrow they would appreciate it if she would come to the station and
hopefully identify him. The investigation had turned up some
interesting information about him, if he was indeed, the culprit.
To Be Continued on July 1, 2015
