Happy Anniversary to "Invitation to Destiny

I forgot to mention on last month's (July 1) blog that "Invitation to Destiny" was one year old.  I started the free serial novel on July 1, 2014.  And poor Vanessa still hasn't participated in the Lavender recipe contest to save the Sevigny's chateau.
    I'm back to traveling again so the next chapter in her story has been postponed to August 6.  I hope if you're reading this, you will come back after that date to read the next free chapter.
    Have a nice summer and good reading.

Invitation to Destiny

CHAPTER 13.  DIAMONDS ARE A DOG'S BEST FRIENDS

                                [Chapter 14 will be available on August 1, 2015]

After a breakfast of flaky, buttery croissants and chateau made lavender jam, Lucy drove Vanessa in her purple car to the local police station to check out the possible dog napper. With its red tile roof, and hanging baskets of pink and peach colored flowers it looked like a charming restaurant. Not a place where criminals were held. A chic police woman with black hair pulled back in a svelte chignon introduced herself as Officer Mersault. She asked Vanessa to look through a one way mirror. “Alors. Not to worry. You can see him, but he can not see you.” Sitting at a table, tapping his fingers impatiently was the man the police had arrested for dog napping.

     Vanessa gasped, “Yes, oh, yes. Mais oui. That is Mr. Lay.” She shuddered. “The horrible man who grabbed Charlie.”

     The officer smiled. “Merci. Now please to come with me. I need to speak with you further about this miscreant.” She led Vanessa and Lucy to a small conference room where they settled themselves in straight backed wooden chairs. The police woman sat across from them and opened a manilla folder. She glanced at its contents as she spoke.

“When we apprehended this Monsieur Lay, we found in his possession a very gaudy dog collar. It matched the description that you had given Officer Renaud.”

     Vanessa was embarrassed. She thought the woman who looked like a fashion model even though wearing a dark blue uniform would think she had bought the terrible looking collar. “It came with Charlie. I didn't choose it for him. I planned to get him a handsome plain leather collar when I had time.”

     Lucy understood Vanessa's disclaimer and laughed. “I don't think Officer Mersault is interested in the collar's appearance.”

     The woman frowned. “Of course not. But what we are interested in, is the value of the dog collar.”

     Vanessa was confused. “But it can't be worth much. I found Charlie during a rain storm and he was soaking wet. The collar looked like cheap, flashy trash.”

     Mersault went on. “I don't know about that, but we have a detective who investigates robberies. In this area live many wealthy people and sometimes they are careless with valuable jewelry. So he is quite familiar with expensive baubles and was sure the collar is trimmed with real diamonds, not pieces of glass.”

     Before Vanessa could interrupt, the officer held up her hand. “We had it valued by a respected local jeweler and he estimates, roughly, you understand, that it is worth perhaps 100,000 euros.”

     Vanessa's eyes blinked. “But that's almost $130,000!”

     Lucy grabbed Vanessa's arm. “Vanessa, you're rich.”

     Vanessa shook her head, her hair almost back to its full honey color from its ugly dyed crimson swung back and forth. “No, no. The collar belongs to Raymond Carr's heirs. I have Charlie because Mr. Carr's attorney couldn't find an heir to take him. So I was given ownership of him. But I don't think that includes a valuable collar.”

     The police woman grimaced. “The dog napper claims he is the heir and therefore the collar belongs to him.”

     Lucy sat up straight and argued, “That should be settled in a court of law. Although I hate to involve advocates in what should be a family issue.”

     “But I'm not family. I don't have any standing as an heir.” Vanessa cried. “I just want Charlie. Mr. Lay can have the collar.”

     “Don't be hasty.” Lucy put her hand on Vanessa's arm. “I will talk to my friend, Claude, about the situation.”

     “Oui,” Officer Renaud inserted. “And Monsieur Lay is still accused of dog napping, even if he does turn out to own the collar. He should have gone through regular procedures to obtain it. Not steal a dog.” She snapped the manilla folder closed.

     Lucy's cell phone began to chirp. She looked at the incoming message. “Ah, Vanessa, we must go. Jacques is wild. He is insisting you continue with the cooking. And I must agree with him. You have Charlie. His dog napper is in police custody. We will concern ourselves with ownership of the collar later. Now you have an important role to perform.”

     Back in the huge but cozy chateau kitchen, Jack put Vanessa through another complete run through of the famous recipe. It took four hours, but it was worth it, based on the beautiful smells coming from the finished product. The family had it again for dinner. This time they all pronounced it perfect. Vanessa was thrilled. Maybe she had a chance of winning the contest and saving the estate for the Sevigny's.

     After this second dinner, which proved to her that the first was not beginner's luck, she called her mother. It was early morning in Thailand but her mother was out and about already. Disappointed, she left a message.

     “Mom, the local police found the terrible man who dog napped Charlie. It's that Mr. Lay who claims to be Raymond Carr's heir. He stole Charlie because he wanted that terrible gaudy collar Charlie was wearing. The police say the collar is made of real diamonds and is worth a small fortune. But I don't think I can claim the collar. Although having that money would be nice, I'm just happy I have Charlie back.

     “Oh, and I made the complete lavender recipe twice for the family. They liked it so maybe I can cook after all. And maybe even win this contest.

     “I know you're having fun wherever you are. You don't have to call back. I'm going to snuggle up with Charlie in this beautiful bed and sleep. I need to rest up now for the contest, which is in two days!”

     The early morning sun streamed in through the leaded windows falling on the soft pastel colors of the ancient and beautiful Oriental rug. Vanessa had forgotten to shut the curtains when she went to bed, so as the sunny beams moved slowly across the room they fell on her face. Their warmth made her burrow deeper into her pillow. But loud shouts coming from downstairs brought her upright. Charlie jumped off the bed and scampered to the door. His high, sharp barks added to the noise confusion.

She threw on a robe knowing the family would be concerned if she appeared in her tattered pajamas. As she started down the grand staircase, holding onto the heavily carved stair rail, she could see Jack below arguing with Lucy and Michelle.

     Michelle asked in French, “But who would do such a terrible thing?” Vanessa over the past few weeks had picked up enough of the language to understand basic conversation. Her high school French was finally paying off.

     Jack blasted, “Who? I'll tell you who. That neighbor who is trying to ruin us.”

     Lucy said, “He is no friend, but I can't believe he is a thief.”

     “Oh, ho, so you've been taken in by his smoking hot eyes.” Jack roared at her.

     Michelle noticed Vanessa staring at them. “Alors, Jacques.”

     “I'm sorry. Maybe I should go back.” Vanessa turned to start up the stairs.

    “No, I am sorry. But this concerns you, too.” Jack crossed his arms across his dark blue polo shirt. “Someone stole the lavender that I'd been keeping for the day of the contest.”

     “But surely you have lots of lavender. This is a lavender farm and factory, right?” Vanessa was confused.

      Lucy explained. “Yes, but Jack had been keeping the best of the recent harvest for the final preparation of our dish. The lavender stems which had the fattest buds. They also have the sweetest flavor. We taste tested them to ensure which plants were the best.”

     Vanessa was beginning to think the Seville family was crazy concerning lavender. But if the special ingredient was missing perhaps she wouldn't have to compete after all.

     This hope was crushed when Jack announced, “I am going to the neighbor's and will tear the place apart until I find our lavender.”
                             [To be continued on August 1, 2015.]

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