Opposites Attack: A Novel with Recipes Provencal (32 page)

Glorianna was thrown by his generosity. So was Nelson. She said, “I’m not sure about inviting…”

“Mother,” he said sternly, “this doesn’t mean she’ll be coming to Thanksgiving dinner and all of your parties. If you acted like you didn’t think my son was a
leper
for a change, we’d probably see a big change in him. It would certainly make my life easier, especially with
my getting married.

“Well…”

He drew his mother into him and whispered what sounded like
I’m making you happy, now make me happy
.

She patted her bun-head. “I suppose if Alyce doesn’t mind, why not? Maybe we’ll all get along just fine.”

They set a time and Jean-Luc watched them drive off.

What did
I’m making you happy
mean? Was that what he said? Alyce had mentioned Glorianna was hell-bent on “extending the Mansfield brand” and that she’d felt as though Nelson had woken up one day, decided to get married, and she would do.

Jean-Luc’s assessment was that he truly adored her. Or he was a very good actor.

There was more to this. He could feel it.

He thought of one of his Golden Rules for storytelling: Look for the woman and follow the money. If his instincts were correct, the trail was about to take a new turn.

 

32

The Nelly and Carmelita Show

Alyce and Nelson’s suite at the elegant 18th-century
Hôtel Marlaison
had a sensational view of the Mediterranean Sea. Dotted with small fishing boats and luxurious yachts, it was a scene she had seen on postcards around town. She didn’t even mind that Glorianna and Luther were staying there as well. When Nelson’s mother insisted that Carmelita and Junior stay at a lesser hotel a few blocks away, Alyce again found herself liking her future mother-in-law.

As for Luther, ever since Alyce introduced him to
Le Gentil Gendarme
, who hooked him into the gay scene in Marlaison, she could do no wrong.

Before she took off for school, she and Nelson stood on their balcony, arms around each other, glowing with love. Alyce said to Nelson, “I can’t believe your mother is going to be breathing the same air as Carmelita and Junior tonight.”

“She wants to manage any damage control. You know how Carmelita can get. If Junior acts up, at least it won’t be in public. And she doesn’t trust Jean-Luc.”

Alyce didn’t trust him either. Regardless of his denial that he wouldn’t write about the Mansfields (it appalled Alyce to no end when she heard what had gone down at the closing), she still suspected he was either trawling for material or going to play a cruel joke of some kind. Either way, tonight could turn out to be more unpredictable than her 27th birthday.

What she did offer was, “That’s quite a lot of people to entertain.”

“It was his idea, honey. We’ll bring some excellent wine and it’ll be fine. Besides, this is our new home. Much more interesting than eating out.”

She could hear his mother saying, “Not to mention cheaper.”

She turned to go. A thought stopped her. “Your mother floored me when she asked me if I’d like to get breast implants for the wedding! As if I’d do that after nixing the Botox. It was all I could do to not blurt out that I was pregnant. I really wish you’d tell her already.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“When?”

“I meant about getting implants.”

“What!”

He covered his face as if she was going to smack him. “I’m kidding. I love you just the way they are.”

“You better.”

“I just wouldn’t object if you wanted to have implants at some point.”

That comment gnawed at her. After she gathered everything for school, she asked, “Are Carmelita’s real?” They had to be at least DDs.

He kissed her goodbye. “I have no idea. Have a great day, honey.”

During her midmorning break at school, she texted Nelson to see how things were going. He’d driven to the Nice airport to pick up Carmelita and Junior, the final members of the CF. Their flight was due in at 10 a.m. The airport was two hours away. That left plenty of time to get back to Marlaison and be rested for the evening soiree at Jean-Luc’s.

He answered:
STILL IN NICE. SO FAR SO GOOD

She went to the
toilette
and noticed small red stains in her panties.

No! They seemed different from a period. She searched out Liliane. She wasn’t in her office.

Alyce’s breasts were still tender. That must be a good sign, though they also grew tender before her period.

Every hour she checked. There was a tiny bit more blood. Maybe her period was slow getting started because she’d just gone off the pill? She felt a bit relieved. It was too early to get pregnant with Nelson anyway.

A crushing grief came over her at the thought of losing a child.

Around 4:00, Nelson called. “We’re just leaving. Time flies when Nelly’s mom has a credit card and there are new stores to conquer. Can you pick up some wine?”

“Nelly?”

“Yeah, can the Junior. He’s on a Nelly kick now.”

“I hope you don’t hit traffic.”

“Can we get out of this dinner? Make it tomorrow night?”

“He’s cooking for eight people. I’m sure it will be exceptional.”

He let out a long exasperated sigh. “Okay, we’ll make it.”

She managed to say through her teeth, “Drive safely.”

Her outfit for the evening was a snug black skirt that tapered to her knees and a simple pink top that gathered between her breasts, accentuating them. So what if Carmelita’s were bigger? A lot bigger. She had to show she didn’t care. The neck opening of the blouse was so wide it almost fell off her shoulders.

At the last moment she switched to a strapless push-up bra. Her breasts were quite tender. The glorious feeling of being pregnant surged through her again.

It was past 7:00 when Nelson showed up at their hotel room—the time they were to be at Jean-Luc’s. He ripped off his shirt.

“You want to have sex
now?

“No, I have to jump in the shower.”

She was about to tell him about her spotting but it was obvious he couldn’t focus on her as he ran around like a cartoon character. She also didn’t want to introduce the possibility she might not be pregnant until she knew for sure. Her period, if that’s what it was, was still extremely light.

He was ready in under 10 minutes. Carmelita and Junior, however, did not possess his speed. Alyce and Nelson waited outside their hotel for five minutes. Another five.

Alyce called Jean-Luc. “We’re running late.”

His light-hearted “We are having a fascinating time entertaining the other guests” was followed by him lowering his voice. “At least they’re not giving me a migraine from their cologne. They are scent-free tonight, thank God. Rain is in the forecast and we will be dining inside. Hurry up!”

Finally 10-year-old Nelly appeared. He was slouched over and walking in that thug-like way of putting one shoulder forward then the other. It was 75 degrees and he was wearing a black leather jacket. His dark hair was slicked back.

Alyce put on her best smile and tried to open her heart to this boy, who must feel terribly marginalized. She got a standoffish arms-at-his-sides response as she kissed him three times on his cheeks.

“That’s the way they greet each other here.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you get taller since I last saw you?”

“Yeah.”

And gained a few pounds. She noticed one of his hands covered with an Ace bandage.

Nelson said, “I better see what’s taking her so long.”

After several strained minutes in the car where Alyce tried to talk to Nelly and he ignored her while playing a video game, he said, “Put on the radio.”

“Put on the radio,
please.

“Yeah.”

“Let me call our host
again
and tell him we’re on our way.”

Jean-Luc reported, “They’re playing
pétanque
while we hide out in the kitchen and drink. If that woman sings out
‘Bon appétit’
when we sit down to eat I win 10 Euros from Isabella.”

“I have no doubt you’ll win.”

When she hung up she reached for the radio.

“Nah, I don’t wanna hear it now.”

She crossed her arms and thought about how much she wanted to teach this kid the words “thank you.”

The clock kept ticking. She was surprised—and thankful—Nelly was being well behaved until he said, “They should be done about now.”

She turned around. “Done with what?”

He looked at her with the maturity of an adult. “Their
quality
time.”

A searing sensation shot up through her toes and into her eyeballs. No, he couldn’t be saying…

He smirked and went back to his video game.

With all pretense of politeness gone, she fired back, “You’re just like your mother, trying to screw with my head. Well, I’m not going anywhere, Junior, so get used to it.”

“It’s Nelly, dammit!”

“Nasty is more like it and don’t swear!”

He muttered, “I’ll say whatever the fuck I want.”

“Not to me.”

She turned more to look at him straight on. “Can we get through this evening without giving our hosts even more reasons to despise Americans?”

He let out a mocking laugh.

The door next to him opened. Carmelita got in, glaring at Alyce. She had toned down her tarted-up look so much Alyce barely recognized her: a creamy loose-fitting summer pantsuit, low-heeled sandals instead of her usual spikes, tight top, and bling on top of bling. Her jewelry was a dainty diamond bracelet, one diamond channel ring on her right hand, and a simple gold chain necklace. Her wild mane of dark ringlets with golden highlights was restrained in an updo.

Reading Alyce’s mind, she said, “I been gettin’
French Vogue.

“You look great, Carmelita. Welcome.” Alyce turned to her fiancé, who wouldn’t look at her as he put on his seat belt and started driving.

A voice screamed inside of her:
He’s fucking her
.

Followed by:
Don’t even go there. You’re being paranoid.

“Shit, my battery is about to die!” the kid whined. “I can’t play my video games!”

Nelson angrily turned the car around. Father and son dashed into a convenience store by the hotel while Alyce’s blood pressure went up another five notches. Carmelita scrutinized the gleaming rock that now sat on Alyce’s left ring finger, re-sized by André.

“Now, who could say no to that?”

Alyce glanced at her rummaging through her Kate Spade purse, hurt and trying to hide it. In that moment, Alyce felt sorry for her. Carmelita loved Nelson and could never marry him because Glorianna wouldn’t allow it. No wonder she and her son were obnoxious.

She thought of Sister Therese’s advice to be compassionate, took a deep breath and stayed silent. What could she possibly say to make things better?

“As long as nothin’s changin’ for me, I don’t care what Nelson does.” Carmelita took out a mirror and admired herself. “’Cause I deserve it.”

So long sympathy. He paid $5,000-a-month rent for her two-bedroom apartment in Soho. That was just the tip of the iceberg. What had she done for him? Raised a high-maintenance brat.

“I’m missing something,” Alyce said acidly. “You don’t work. You live in the lap of luxury. We’re never going to be soul sisters, but let’s at least act civil.”

“Sure, Annie.”

“Thanks, Caramel Latte.”

She snorted and patted her hair the same way Glorianna did. “What-evah.”

Alyce thought of the glass of wine Liliane had said was okay to have with dinner. Hell yeah, she was having one tonight.

 

33

Clustier Fouquoi

As they neared Jean-Luc’s, Carmelita said loudly, “A
dirt
road?”

“I think it’s charming,” Alyce said, overly nice.

Under her breath, she replied, “You never grew up on one.”

Nelson remained expressionless and silent.

“Whoa, Dad! Look at that old Mercedes!”

Nelly shot out his door when the car stopped. Within two seconds he was inside the wheel-less two-door convertible up on blocks in the open garage. He was just like his father when it came to cool cars, Alyce thought. Nelson’s smile indicated he had the same idea.

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