INVITATION TO DESTINY

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

INVITATION TO DESTINY

CHAPTER 11.  HOW TO 'FRENCH' A ROAST

                       [Chapter 12 will be available on June 1, 2015]

Although Edmund's use of the word 'we' was encouraging, Vanessa still felt like sobbing. She didn't know what she'd do if she never saw Charlie again. His fluffy, white, bouncy body and always laughing face had brought her comfort and joy. She thought back to when she first found him. He was just a sodden, grey, ragamuffin huddled at the bottom of the hard, cold steps leading up to her building. The fall storm had blown his leash out of the hand of the poor little guy's owner. The frightened dog ended up blocks away, shivering and wet. Vanessa's heart had melted when he looked up at her with trusting eyes. She struggled to pick him up while holding her umbrella and briefcase. But eventually they all made it up to her apartment. And the most exciting adventure had begun.

      Now it was no longer exciting. Now it was unbearably sad. She wanted to throw herself on her large, comfy bed and wail, but knew she had to keep her wits about her if she was to find her dog. And she did. She practiced her calming meditation, breathing slowly in and out. Finally, her higher brain functions kicked in and she looked at the phone in her hand. Charlie's photos were in it. Why on earth had she run up the stairs looking for them.

      When the police officer arrived, she asked if she could send the photos on her phone to the police station. He gave her an email address and called the station to warn them of the arriving dog pictures. Then she answered all his questions. It took longer than she expected, but she was glad the earnest, young man was taking the dog napping seriously. He did not laugh or make fun of her distress.

      She felt drained after he left, but there was something else she thought she needed to do. She wanted to call Ricard and thank him for his help.

      Efficient, unflappable Edmund was able to give her the phone number for their neighbor's chateau and also rang it up for her. If he thought it odd that she wanted to speak with the 'enemy,' he never showed it. He explained in French to the person who answered, that someone wanted to speak to Ricard. After a wait of several minutes, she was finally put through to him.

      “Allo. Ricard ici.” His voice cold and formal.

      “Ricard, this is Vanessa. You helped me when my dog was stolen.”

      “Oh, oui, yes, of course. Sorry, I thought Edmund was calling for Lucy. Did you call the police?”

      “I did and they were very nice. They didn't laugh at me. They were serious about getting Charlie back. I sent them photos which they said they would distribute copies to all members of their force.”

      “Eh, bien. That is good.”

      “Yes. Everyone has been so kind and helpful. And that's why I'm calling. I want to thank you for giving me a ride back to Sevigny on your bicycle and offering me hope that all would turn out all right. Maybe, in return, I could treat you to lunch someday.”

      “That is very hospitable of you, but let us wait until you have Charlie back. And then we will have a celebration. OK?”

      Vanessa was disappointed not to see him sooner, but maybe he felt the contest was an obstacle to their becoming friends. “Yes, yes, and I will pray that happens soon.”

      “I too, Vanessa, I too.”

      At dinner the family expressed their dismay that her dog had been taken. Lucy assured her the police were formidable and would find Charlie and the evil man who had taken him.

      That night, Vanessa had terrible nightmares of Charlie crying in a cage, of Charlie in a research laboratory, of Charlie injured and bleeding. She was relieved when the cold, grey dawn showed in her window and she could finally get up.

      After a breakfast of strong, hot coffee and a flaky croissant that she could barely swallow, she thought she'd walk the route she'd taken with Charlie. She knew he was probably long gone from the area, but she felt sentimental and didn't know what else to do.

      Vanessa walked down to the open gate leading to the country road, and there scampering up to meet her was a dog. She could not believe or even hope it was Charlie. But it was! She thought he'd either escaped on his own, or the man had let him go. She knelt to greet him and he jumped into her arms licking furiously all over her smiling face. She set him back down on the dusty road, and then noticed that his glitzy collar was gone. She wondered if he'd been tied by it and somehow pulled himself out of it. She didn't care, she had never liked it. But she was glad if it had helped him escape. And now she would buy Charlie the best, most dignified collar she could find.

      The whole household rejoiced with her. She was touched by how kind everyone was about a little missing dog. Edmond called the police station to inform them the dog was safe at home. The officer he spoke to told him the police did not like the idea of a dog napper running around in the neighborhood, so they would still be looking for him. And if they caught him, Vanessa could press charges if she wanted.

      She was just happy Charlie was back, but if they needed her to help stop further dog stealing she would do what she could. Charlie was enjoying a bowl of cool water and some treats Edmond had arranged for him, when Jack stopped by and smiled at him. After patting Charlie's soft head a few time, he turned to Vanessa.

      “It's time we resumed your lessons. The contest is upon us.”

      Back they went to the expansive, antique looking but very efficient kitchen. With her faithful dog companion back—she laughed as she realized that sounded like a documentary voice over—she was ready to concentrate on Jack's instructions. However, there was a slight little voice inside that asked if she really wanted to beat Ricard who'd been so kind to her. But then the Sevigny's had also been nice to Vanessa. Oh, she decided she'd just do her best and let the chips fall where they may or maybe let the flour fly where it would.

      “Today you will learn how to french the bones,” He laughed. “I use the same expression that would be used in English. Of course in France we would not say that. What it means is to cut the meat away from the ends of a rib or chop to expose the bones. Chefs think this makes the meat look more elegant. In olden days, a frilled paper was placed on the bone ends, but today that's considered a little 'la de dah'. You won't be doing that.”

      Vanessa spent the afternoon practicing with a boning knife. Her fingers weren't bleeding when they finished, so she considered the lesson a success. 

To be continued on June 1.

INVITATION TO DESTINY

CHAPTER 10.  DOG NAPPED!

[Chapter 11 will be available on May 1, 2015]

Charlie and Vanessa had a wonderful day out with Lucy. Everywhere they went in the purple and pink car, people smiled at them. Vanessa felt her heart overflow with peace and happiness. Maybe she needed more fun in her life. She always worried she wasn't 'living up to her potential', as her Dad suggested.

       But looking at the lifestyle of the French, and their five weeks of paid vacation!, she was beginning to realize there were other ways to live the only life you would have. Of course, the Sevigny family, as owners, didn't have five weeks of vacation, but she could see they did enjoy life.

       That evening there was another delicious family dinner, cooked to perfection by Jack. He had made a wonderful beef stew similar to one Vanessa's mother used to cook from the Julia Child cookbook. So much flavor and cooked for hours. The hearty Burgundy dish was followed by a light dessert, sliced apples with a selection of creamy cheeses. Vanessa hoped she wasn't gaining weight from all the tasty food she was served. Back home, she ate a lot of yoghurt and cereal. Simple food that didn't require recipes and cooking. She was going to miss the French attitude toward meals when she left.

       The next morning, she decided to take Charlie for a walk outside the Chateau's grounds. She hadn't done that before because there was so much for her to discover on the Savigny property. But she needed to expand her exploring. Vanessa, bent over to snap the leather leash on his gaudy collar, her crimson hair flopping over her eyes. Buying a new collar for Charlie that wasn't so fancy was still on her 'to do' list. It seemed like she'd either been too busy cooking or thinking about other things whenever she was actually in a shop where she could have bought him one. Oh well, she mused, a glitzy collar was a small thing to worry about.

       They turned out of the lane that led up to the chateau onto a country road. It was lined with tall poplars, their almost leafless branches waving in the November breeze. The surrounding fields were filled with rows of stark lavender bushes. They looked dead. But Lucy had assured Vanessa they were just dormant—waiting for the spring sun and seasonal rains to wake them up from their winter's sleep. Vanessa took deep breaths of the fresh, pollution free air, with just a hint of wood smoke.

       Charlie was in his favorite element. He enjoyed sniffing out new territory, his stubby legs churning as they carried him from one enticing smell to another. He especially liked bottoms of fence posts where he left his own calling card. Vanessa was so intent watching Charlie have fun, she didn't hear a smoothly purring car come up behind her until it stopped next to her dog and a man got out. He grabbed Charlie, jerking the leash out of her slack hand. The poor dog was barking his head off and wriggling his firm little body to escape. But the man, slapped a muzzle over his nose and held him tight. The dog-napper jumped back into the car and it sped off a gunned roar. It was a black Mercedes but Vanessa didn't get its license number.

       She was so shocked she didn't even scream. Her stunned brain finally sent her a message that it had to be that wretched Jacob Lay. If he couldn't get Charlie legally he was resorting to dog napping. How could he be so crazy about a dog, he'd never seen before?

       Vanessa pulled out her cell phone, but who should she call? Would the police even be interested? Someone stole her dog. They'd probably just laugh at her, if they even understood her English. Maybe Jack or Lucy could help when she got back. Her trip to France was turning into a roller coaster ride. Ups and downs, all around. Some good, some bad.

       She trudged back to the chateau, her heart in her walking shoes. This time when she heard a noise behind her, she whirled around, hoping it was the car bringing Charlie back. But it was just a blond man on a bicycle. Ignoring him, she walked on, until her brain kicked in and she realized she'd seen him recently. It was Ricard, the neighbor Lucy said was an enemy.

       He pulled alongside her. “Are you OK? You look distressed.”

       Her eyes teared and she tried to knuckle them away. “Some one just stole my dog!” Even if he was the competition, she didn't think he wouldn't turn his back on a helpless animal.

       “What? Are you sure?” He stopped the bike and Vanessa described what had happened.

       “Here, jump on the back. It'll be faster if we both take the bike.” He held the shiny frame steady while she sat sideways on the fender. Fortunately, it was an old bike that had one. The newer racing style bikes were free of any extraneous weight. Although Vanessa's mind was consumed with worry about Charlie and how she could get him back, there was a tiny little area that was turning over questions about Ricard. Why was he out riding an old bike? Why did an 'enemy' of the Savigny's stop to help their guest?. Did he even know she was the one who would be cooking their recipe? She had no answers and as they jounced over some ruts in the road, she had to hold on tight to his slim, firmly muscled waist.

       The bike crunched its way over the gravel in the entrance drive. Edmund must have heard the noise as he came out the front door looking amazed to see Vanessa on the back of a bicycle. She slid off and was so distressed she ran up to the very prim and proper butler and threw herself into his arms. He patted her back, swiveling his head, looking for the little white dog..

       “Where's Charlie? What happened? Why are you on a bicycle?”

       Ricard gave a slight bow and spoke in quick French. After he explained the situation to Edmund, the butler stepped quickly back into the house. Ricard turned to Vanessa and said, “I told him to call the police. He will tell them a very valuable dog has been stolen. And must be found immediately, before he is taken out of the country.”

       Vanessa's mouth dropped. “Taken out of the country! Then he'd be lost to me forever. I can't let that happen.”

       Ricard's dark blue eyes looked into hers and he promised, “I also love dogs. I will do everything I can to help you. If you need me please call.” He patted the pants of his tan biking shorts. “I am desolate, sorry. These do not have pockets. I do not have any cards. But I am sure Lucy has my number.”

       Vanessa wasn't so sure Lucy would have the phone number of an 'enemy', but thought there must be a telephone book somewhere in the vast house. She put her hand on Ricard's arm. “Thank you. Thank you for all your help. Merci. I must go in and hear what the police say.” Before she realized what she was doing, she reached up and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek.

       She walked into the huge entrance hall her heart beating with apprehension. How fast things change. Less than an hour ago she was filled with zest for life and whatever it would bring. Now she was terrified of what a turn of the world might bring. She decided she had to be brave. She could not fall to pieces. Charlie needed her to keep calm and steady and to think of ways to get him back.

Edmund with sympathy showing in his eyes, but taking a position out of hugging range, told her of the call to the police.

       “Fortunately, the officer I spoke to owns and loves dogs. He was suitably alarmed about the possibility of a dog napper roaming the countryside. A possibility of which I encouraged. Someone will be here soon to get a description of Charlie, the man, and the car. They would also like a photo of your dog. Do you have one with you?”

       Vanessa stilled her brain so she could focus. “Yes, yes, I do have a picture of him. I'll run up to get it.” She started to climb the steps, but turned to face Edmund who took a step back. She smiled. “Don't worry, I won't hug you again. But I do want to thank you so much. I appreciate all the help you're giving me.”

       Edmund called after her. “Please do not worry. We will get Charlie back.”

       Vanessa felt reassured when she heard him say the magic words, “we.”

To be continued on May 1.

INVITATION TO DESTINY

Chapter 9.   The Secret Recipe Revealed

 [Chapter 10 will be available on April 1, 2015]

Vanessa felt a tickle of excitement or was it dread as she waited for Jack to disclose the secret recipe which he was so certain would win the contest.

He opened a battered looking loose leaf notebook with loose leaf pages inside. “This has been in our family for more than fifty years. I know it is not very old for France, but it contains recipes that were recopied from even older scraps of paper and cards. I have made photocopies of each page, which now reside in a bank's safety deposit box and also in a very secure location on the cloud.”

I smiled. “It looks like you're covered no matter what disaster could occur.”

“Oui. You may think this a silly arrangement, but it is not when our family's well being resides on these recipes.”

I was beginning to get tired of hearing this litany of family, family, family. After all this was the 21^st Century. Time to move on. “No, not at all. It's wonderful that you have been able to keep these safe through the years.”

Jack threw me a suspicious look, but moved on. “Here this is the recipe I will teach you in the next few days. And you will practice it until you could do it in your sleep.”

I took the notebook and looked at the page. I couldn't figure it out. For some reason I couldn't read it.

“It's in French, of course and using liters, etc. I just wanted you to see the original. Here is the translated recipe that you will work from.” He handed me two laminated sheets.

The first was entitled: “Lavender Pork Loin with Gingered Figs and Raisins.”

“It sounds tasty,” I quipped. “Something that might come from California.”

“Our climate and the climate of some regions of California are similar. So it is not surprising we have kindred foods. But you notice the first word is LAVENDER. That is what we are focusing on.

“The recipe methods are simple, but time consuming. There are three main steps: Marinating the figs, marinating the pork, and preparing the sauce. Then there is the actual roasting process and the construction of the dish.”

“What about lavender? Where does that come in?”

“We will get to that in due time.”

Jack was kind but firm as we went through the various steps of preparing the marinade. Tomorrow we would do the actual roasting and sauce making and it would be served for dinner. The family would all be there to judge the results. Although part of me was annoyed that I was the one who would be on the firing line, another part of me was rising to the challenge, thinking, by golly I can cook the pants off these Frenchies. 

Unfortunately, yet another part of me was worrying about Charlie, my dog. Had I come all the way to France to lose the most precious person (yes, he was a person to me) in my life.

After a delicious lunch which Jack had thrown together with cheese, day old baguettes, cornichons, and truffle oil, I sat in my room. Charlie was snuggled across my lap. I opened the letter from Dumpy Dan.

“I was surprised you did go to France. Sounds like a boring trip to me, but to each his own. I'm writing to give you a heads up, as an old bud. You must have lost your cell phone, cause none of my tweets are going through. I got a call from an old bird, name of Jacob Lay. He's looking for you says it will be to your advantage. I gave him your address in France, got it from your bud, Sylvia. Well, to tell the truth he gave me 100 dollars—that's full disclosure, sweetie. I figured why not make some money. He's not going to kill you, right. Well, have fun in moldy old France if you can. Love, Dan.”

I shook my head. How had I ever considered a future with this guy. He sold me out for $100, not that it mattered cause I'd told the vet's office it'd be OK to give Lay my address. Of course I had no idea he wanted Charlie.

Again, he whimpered. The white fluffy pup must be psychic and could read my mind.

I had to disturb him as I got up to answer a soft knock on my door.  

It was Lucy “Hi, I hope I didn't wake you.”

“No, I was just reading.”

“I just wanted you to know that I got in touch with Claude, my lawyer friend, and he said he'd look into dog ownership laws and get back to me. He said you shouldn't worry. French laws are very strict regarding animals and they usually weigh on what's best for the animal.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate that everyone is being so nice to me.”

“Well, you're doing a lot for us. And to partially repay you how about a little road trip? 

You haven't been anywhere except this old chateau and the grounds.”

“Jack did take me to the local markets which was very interesting.” I'd never been that interested in raw food before. But there must have been twenty different kinds of mushrooms, and more than a hundred types of cheese.

“Get, a jacket and be sure your wearing walking shoes. We'll take a tour of the countryside. Oh, and bring Charlie. If he likes car rides.”

Charlie's ears perked up. He'd been standing, looking from one to other of us. I swear he could understand. He scampered to the door and whined.

“Well, as you can see he won't be left behind.”

“See you downstairs in 15 minutes, OK.”

Lucy drove a colorful purple and pink car. I guess she could afford a custom paint job. When I admired it, she said. "I spend a lot of time in my car and if it's not fun, what's the point."

She took me into the small village that held the market but we stopped on a different street and browsed in several very small shops were about as wide as their door entrance. Lucy whispered, “It's best if you don't touch anything. If you want to see something close up, ask the clerk. They don't want their merchandise to get 'shop worn'.

There were beautiful fabrics and china, but as I had no home back in the streets I had no use for them. I” d been staying in my folks' condo while they were in Thailand but I'd have to find a place of my own when I returned. A place that allowed dogs, of course.

I was entering a shop, when a slim, blond haired man about thirty-five, blinded by the southern sun tried to to exit, jostling me. “Sorry, almost had a naval engagement there.” he apologized. I was surprised to hear an expression my former sailor father used to describe 'bumping belly buttons'. I smiled and stepped aside so he could step out. He grinned until he saw Lucy. “Oh, it's you.”

“Hello, Ricard,” Lucy said coolly and pushed me into the store.

“What's the matter?” She was usually so friendly I wondered why she didn't stop to chat.

“He's your competition. His family owns a neighboring lavender farm and they will be participating in the recipe contest.”

“But if he's a neighbor, you must have gone to school with him. Isn't he a friend?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps Jacques did not explain. This contest is called 'The Lavender Wars.' And we do not fraternize with the enemy.”

To be continued on April 1, 2015

INVITATION TO DESTINY

Chapter 8.   A Mysterious Stranger

[Chapter 9 will be available on March 1, 2015]

                                                                                                                                                                                               

Vanessa walked out the front door after breakfast to giveCharlie a quick run before she had another cooking lesson from Jack. A black Citroen sedan pulled in the drive surrounding the stone fountain. The driver, wearing a black cap, jumped out to open the back door. A tall, lanky man dressed in a light brown suit, brown and white striped business shirt, and shiny green tie stepped out and frowned. His prominent nose sniffed as if he smelled something bad.

Charlie who'd been struggling to pull the leash from Vanessa's hand, now turned and tried to scamper back to the terrace. She pulled hard and yelled 'heel', not that he'd ever paid attention to what she said.

The unknown man gave her a tight smile. “You must be Ms. Vanessa Tippett. I am Jacob Lay. I have come for my dog.” He extended a hand as if to take Charlie's leash.

       
“Charlie belongs to me.” Vanessa couldn't believe the nerve of this man. Even if he had flown there at considerable expense, that didn't prove he owned the dog.

         
He glared at her. “The dog was the property of my cousin, Raymond Carr, who died. As his nearest relative I inherited the dog and he now belongs to me.”

       
Vanessa's hackles rose. She did not like Charlie being called 'property'. “I was told Mr. Carr had no relatives and should be taken to a pound as an unclaimed animal. I claimed him and now he belongs to me.”

       
Charlie swiveled his white, furry head from one speaker to the other. When the stranger approached him again, the dog whimpered and pressed against Vanessa's leg. Charlie's negative reaction reinforced her outrage. He usually loved meeting people. She thought there must be seriously bad vibes coming off this man.

      
Jack came walking around from the back of the chateau. Vanessa was relieved to see him. She thought he must have been working in the garden because he had soil on his knees and hands. But he was a welcome sight.

     
 “Ce qui se passe? What's going on?” Jack demanded.

“I have come to claim my property, the dog. Le chien?” Jacob Lay seemed to stretch up on tip toes so he could look down his nose at Jack.

Jack looked at Vanessa. “Is that right?”

“No, that is not right. I own this dog.”

“Do either of you have papers for Charlie?” Jack bent to scratch the dog's perky ears.

Mr. Lay bristled. “I do not have papers with me, but I have flown at great expense to acquire this dearly beloved pet.”

Vanessa felt her heart thumping. “I love him, you don't. I don't know why you want him. Maybe to sell him to the highest bidder.”

“This woman is hysterical. As a reasonable man, I know you will support my claim.” Jacob Lay smiled thinly at Jack.

“I think you better leave now and come back with legal papers to support your claim.” Jack took Charlie's leash from Vanessa and led them back into the house leaving Jacob Lay gaping.

He snapped shut his mouth and shouted, “I will come back with the proper papers and she will give me the dog.”

The chauffeur opened the door to the Mercedes' back seat and waited for his client to climb in.

Once inside the chateau, Jack explained to Edmund what had just happened. He asked the butler to alert all the staff to keep an eye out for Mr. Lay or any other stranger who might appear on the grounds.

Edmund bowed stiffly and took Charlie's leash from Vanessa. “Messr Jacques, Mlle Vanessa, I will guard Charlie with my life.”

Vanessa frowned. “Oh goodness, I don't think that'll be necessary. It's probably just a big misunderstanding. Charlie doesn't seem to know or like this man. And although Charlie is adorable, I can't believe this man loves him.”

“Maybe there's another reason he wants the dog.” Jack suggested. “But come on, let's get back to the kitchen. We're too busy to worry about an fou, a crazy man.”

In the kitchen, after thoroughly scrubbing his hands, Jack made Vanessa swear an oath to never divulge the recipe he was about to give her.

“If all goes well and you win the contest with our recipe and our lavender, it could mean enough money to keep us from selling the farm.”

“What? You never told me if I lost you'd lose the farm. I can't be responsible for the future of your family.” Vanessa thought there was no way she could ever focus on cooking now. It was too much pressure.

Jack laughed. “I'm exaggerating. Trying to loosen you up.”

“That's not the way to loosen me up.” Vanessa felt like crying.

“Did I hear Jacques say he wanted to loosen you up?” Lucy wearing another blouse and pants of pink and orange swirly patterned fabric walked into the kitchen. “Vanessa watch out for my baby brother. He pretends he's not interested in anything but food, but it's a cover for his amorous activities.

Vanessa's felt her face redden. “No, no, we were just talking about the contest and how important it is to your family.”

Jack ignored his sister's comments. “Have you heard about the visitor Vanessa had this morning?”

Lucy nodded and put an arm around Vanessa's shoulder. “Don't worry, we won't let him take your adorable little dog.”

“But what if he does have legal papers showing he's the heir and owner of Charlie.”

“Ah, but he doesn't know French law. And we have a lawyer who can tisser une toile de mots, spin a web of words around him that he will never break through.”

Jack shot Vanessa an amused smile. “That would be Claude, Lucy's long time suitor. He is still waiting for her yes or no. Right, Lucy?”

Vanessa flinched in embarrassment for Lucy. She thought she would never understand the French or French families or anything about the French. She had never been so grateful to be an only child.

Lucy shrugged her shoulders. “It just takes me a long time to make up my mind. And if he's willing to dangle so long, that's up to him, not me.”

Jack raised his eyebrows, “And is there a reason for the pleasure of your company in this working kitchen?”

“Yes, dear brother. I have brought a letter for Vanessa. It's from Chicago and I thought she'd be eager to receive it.”

Vanessa took the white envelope Lucy offered. “I'll wait until later to open it. It can't be urgent or the person would have called.” She was surprised to see from the return address that it was from Dumpy Dan, her former boy friend. Why would he be writing her? Oh, well, she thought, that could wait until later. She needed to concentrate on cooking. After all the fate of the Savigny family rested on her. Not that she expected her nonexistent cooking ability to save the day.

Jack shooed Lucy out of their work space. “Vanessa and I have lots to do. You've delivered the message, now sortez, get out.”

He tossed Vanessa another crisp white apron. “Enough fun and games. Now attendez we work. Today I will entrust you with the recipe that I know will be the prize winner. It uses all the most famous ingredients of our region.”

To be continued on March 1, 2015

INVITATION TO DESTINY

Chapter 7.   What's a Marinade?

[Chapter 8 will be available on February 1, 2015]

Lucy ignored Jack's outburst about Wilhelm, his brother-in-law. She looked at Vanessa, said, “Good luck,” and left the kitchen.

     Jack turned to Vanessa and gave her a tight smile. “Are you ready to win the Lavender Recipe Contest?”

     Vanessa stuttered, “I..I..don't think so. I don't know how to cook.”  She was afraid she was going to look like a fool.

     “Don't worry, all you need to do is learn to prepare one dish perfectly. I think you're smart enough to follow my precise directions, n'cest ce pas?”

      Vanessa bristled. “I'm not dumb, if that's what you're implying.”

      Jack rolled his eyes. “Maybe not, but you seem a little defensive.” He tossed her a huge white apron and instructed her to wrap it around herself and tie the strings across her front. “Today, you will learn to measure accurately.”

      “I know how to measure,” she seethed.

      “Ah, but the key word, is accurately.”

      “Oui, avec précision. I may not be fluent in French but I'm not a complete idiot.”

      Jack nodded and said, “Of course not. Let me explain. Measurements in French recipes are given in grams and liters, not ounces and pounds. And I'm sure you already know to use glass measuring cups for liquids so you can see when the ingredient reaches the appropriate level and various sized cups for solid ingredients, like flour, so you can level off the top.”

      Vanessa calmed herself by remembering the beautiful room she was staying in, rent free, and the wonderful meals she had been eating, also free. She thought she could put up with Jack's boorish behavior to repay Michelle's hospitality. She also knew her mother was counting on her to help out her friend.

      After three hot and aggravating hours in the ancient but well appointed kitchen learning kitchen basics from an egomaniacal chef, Vanessa was ready for a bath and rest before dinner. At least during the lessons she hadn't had time to worry about Charlie and the man who was coming to see the dog.

      She sank blissfully into the lemon scented water of the enormous tub. She was glad she'd found there were bath products with scents other than lavender. She didn't want to end up hating one of her favorite flowers from over saturation. The warm water relaxed her body, but her ever churning mind went over the strange phone conversation.

      Now that this Jacob Lay, Mr. Carr's so-called heir, had her address would he actually come to France to take Charlie away from her? Well, she decided, he better have a lot of proof if he expected her to hand him the darling little dog.

      Vanessa looked over at the white bundle of fur lying on the lavender colored bath rug next to her bath. Charlie sensed she was looking at him, lifted his head to see her better and gave a happy yip. Her heart melted. No, Mr. Lay was not getting Charlie without a fight.

      Jack wasn't at the dinner table that night. He was probably fussing away in the kitchen as usual. Vanessa was glad because she wanted to talk to Lucy about the lavender contest.

      As the rest of the table talked rapidly in French, Vanessa leaned over and whispered to Lucy, “Jack won't tell me anything about the recipe I'm supposed to cook at this contest.”

     Lucy smiled. “Don't worry. Jack is a perfectionist where food is concerned. He is probably forcing you to repeat over and over basic cooking techniques, oui?”

      “Oui, indeed. He had me smashing garlic cloves, black peppercorns, and allspice berries. I think I could now smash them in my sleep.”

      “They sound like the ingredients for a very interesting sauce.” Lucy mused.

      “But he's said nothing about lavender, and I thought that was the whole point of the contest.” I protested which was hard to do as I savored the most delicately flavored duck breast in my life. Jack was definitely an excellent chef.

      Lucy shrugged, a very typical French gesture I think babies learn in their bassinets. “Remember this is a serious competition for our company and for Jacques. He doesn't want anyone finding out what our recipe will be until the day of the competition. You may find yourself learning bits and pieces of the recipe, until he trusts you enough with all of it.”

      Vanessa gave up. “Well at some point, I will have to do the entire recipe. There's no way I can put together bits and pieces and have the whole thing come out right without practice.”

      “Don't worry, there's no way he will let you fail.”

      Vanessa hoped she was right. She had planned to tell Lucy her worries that Jacob Lay might come to claim Charlie. But she didn't want to pester her friend with her problems. And why on earth would someone waste time and money to come to France, just to see a dog.

      The next morning, Vanessa met with Jack after breakfast. He said he wanted to practice with her twice a day. This morning, he would show her the proper way to peel and slice ginger, so she could do it perfectly without thinking about it. In the afternoon, she would learn to choose the ripest figs and to prepare them by placing a skin deep x on the flower end of each one.

      Jack explained, “Some of the techniques you are learning are not procedures you will do at the actual competition. The recipes may include steps that must be done a day ahead of time and then refrigerated in secured storage. However, you and all the other contestants will be required to perform any preparation work at the contest location and in the presence of the judges. That is why you must practice and practice. You must demonstrate familiarity with the recipe as if you developed it yourself.”

      Vanessa felt uneasy. “But I didn't develop the recipe. Is that a contest requirement? I don't want to do anything dishonest.”

      “Non, no. It is not a requirement. It just must be original and be cooked by someone not a member of the company. The most important requirement is that the lavender used must be grown on the farm of the contestant company. The day before the actual contest, lavender will be collected from each participant's store house to make sure there are no substitutions.”

      “It sounds very complicated to me.” Vanessa frowned. “Are you sure I can do this?”

      “Don't worry. Let me do the worrying.” Jack gave her a rare smile. “As long as you practice and do exactly as I say.”

      Before she left her afternoon session with Jack, she was surprised by a compliment. “Bon, you are doing well. We progress. Tomorrow, you will put together the sauce and marinade.”

      Vanessa knew it was silly, but she felt a warm glow from his unexpected praise. Of course, tomorrow might be a disaster. She had never made a sauce, other than to pour bottled chocolate sauce over ice cream, and as for marinade, forget it. She didn't even know what a marinade was.

      Outside the kitchen, she met Edmund. He had Charlie on his leash and from the way the little dog frisked around his feet, they were on their way outside.

      Vanessa reached for the lead. “Oh, let me take him. I've hardly seen Charlie since I started cooking lessons.” She knelt down to give the fluffy dog a hug, which was hard to do since he was wiggling with happiness to see her.

      Keeping up with Charlie on their walk around the grounds revived Vanessa's spirits. A brisk gait stretched and relaxed her muscles, cramped from anxiously following Jacques' precise instructions. She never saw any of the family on these walks, but they probably all had jobs that kept them busy, even in this slow time of year for lavender farms. And of course, late fall was when the lavender based products would be prepared for spring and summer consumption.

       They were approaching the fountain courtyard, when Wilhelm marched across it from his strange looking Citroen sedan to the chateau's front entrance. Lucy had told her the car was considered a French classic and had been inherited along with the house. But its sharp, pointed front looked like the prow of a speed boat to Vanessa. Maybe it made owners feel like they were flying over the waves on a carefree yacht. Wilhelm didn't look very carefree. His jaw jutted out and he didn't notice her which was fine since she still didn't know why Jack had the argument with him.

      To avoid Wilhelm, she turned Charlie around so they could go in the garden entrance. As she walked towards the staircase to go up to her room, Edmund intercepted her. He frowned and his lips were tight as he informed her that she had received a telephone message. “A Mr. Jacob Lay says he just flew into Nice and will be driving here tomorrow to see Charlie. I asked if you were expecting him and he said 'it didn't matter, what you were expecting.' ” Edmund sniffed and looked down at her.

      Vanessa's heart beat a rapid tattoo. The cost of a last minute international flight must be astronomical. Why would anyone be in that much of a rush to see a dog?

To be continued on February 1, 2015