French Roast (The French Twist Series Book 4) Read online

  Before I could comment on the number of times this particular leaf had been flipped, I felt a small hand grab mine.

  “It’s time for cake, Mommy!” Luc’s eyes shone with the promise of a decadent dessert. I totally understood his excitement. My birthday cakes were nothing short of orgasmic. Gross! Stick to the G-rated version, Sydney.

  My father scooped Luc into his arms. “We’d better get a front row seat then.”

  Luc giggled. “You might want to skip dessert, Opa.”

  “Why’s that, O Wise Man?”

  I held my breath, knowing what was coming.

  Luc poked at Dad’s large belly. “Your belly is already bigger than Santa’s.”

  “Well, Luc, as I have often been told, I’m the spitting image of Santa. Though I think I’m far better looking.” He preened for effect.

  “Grampa, you’re so silly! Just because you’re Jewish doesn’t mean you need to spit on Santa.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “He’ll still give you presents, you know.”

  After tickling his grandson into a fit of giggles, my father turned to me and declared, “He learned this type of snotty behavior from you.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and reached for Luc. “I’m not saying a word.” Once I had my sage progeny safely in my arms, I made my way to the table of honor.

  “There are my peeps!” Louis smiled and held his arms out for Luc.

  I sidestepped him and laughed. “Get your own.”

  Louis smirked. “I just might.”

  My heart stopped. Could he be serious? Had the time finally come?

  Kate bustled over, completely unaware of the gravity of what she was interrupting. “Are you ready, birthday girl?”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out, so I just nodded. She gently maneuvered me to the end of the table, simultaneously affixed a hot pink “Birthday Girl” crown on my head and a gold “Birthday Boy” crown on Luc’s head, and beamed. (Never mind that it wasn’t his birthday. Five year olds tend to take what belongs to their parents without a second thought.)

  As the opening notes of “Happy Birthday” began, my mother came around the corner pushing a cart containing a ridiculously large cake with a ridiculously large number of candles on it. (Did they have to include all thirty-five of them? Wasn’t there a fire code to adhere to or something?)

  Once the singing died down, I stuck my tongue out at Luc, which was our agreed-upon signal to blow out the candles.

  Still in my arms, Luc whispered, “Wish for a baby sister for me, okay, Mommy?”

  His heartfelt request gave me pause. Was this something I would be able to give him?

  “Blow out the candles, Duck!”

  I returned to reality from the sound of my dad’s booming voice and laughed my way through the arduous task with the help of my son’s powerful lungs. I hoped the guests didn’t mind a little saliva garnish on their cake. Luc was still mastering the art of “saying, not spraying.”

  When we finally finished, I hugged my beautiful boy. “Thank you, my love.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Mommy. We have to wait to see if you get a baby in your belly.” With that nugget of wisdom, he ran to his father for some much-needed Daddy time while he waited for the cake to be cut. (Translation: sanctioned screen time with Daddy’s phone.)

  As I watched them settle in, I wondered if Luc would mention his wish to Louis. Something told me we were in for a very serious discussion later this evening and I had no idea how it would go. This wasn’t the first time this topic had come up in the past few years. We just hadn’t been able to come to any sort of agreement. A wave of nausea hit me while I played out the possibilities in my mind.

  “Nice work putting out such a huge fire, Syd.”

  Saved by the snark.

  I smiled sweetly. “You do realize you’re older than I am, right, Maya?”

  “Only by a few months,” she huffed.

  Pregnancy had really thrown her off her game. Her comments used to be full of acerbic wit and downright viciousness, and now they were just…lame.

  She was about to further her point when a firm hand settled on her shoulder. Maya turned to face the strong brown eyes of one Lyn Bennett. Have I mentioned how scary her eyes could be without the sparkle?

  “Now, Maya, are you really insulting my daughter on her birthday of all days?”

  Maya paled. “Of course not, Ly—uh, Mrs. Bennett. I was just trying to distract her from the magnitude of the big three five, since I’ve been through it already and all…”

  My mother gave her a superior smile. “I thought as much.”

  Maya politely excused herself and scurried off to the bathroom. It appeared the tiny-bladder syndrome she had mocked me senseless about was finally kicking in. Payback is a bitch, Maya!

  Shaking her head at my friend’s hasty exit, my mother handed me a piece of cake. “Are you ready for this?”

  My mouth watered instantly. Given the number of candles, I couldn’t actually see what kind of cake I was getting. Now I was face to face with my beloved Chocolate on Chocolate cake from none other than the Prolific Oven. Kate had totally redeemed herself for bogarting my cake during our last coffee session.

  “I was born ready.”

  My mom laughed, giving me a heavy dose of her signature sparkle. I laughed with her, looking forward to a few moments alone. I needed her opinion about how to approach Louis. I may have been known to blow things out of proportion, so a little planning (not to mention input from a logical person) couldn’t hurt. We settled in at the nearest table and indulged in an extremely satisfying combination of cake and conversation.

  Ten minutes later, my dad approached the table with a forlorn look and a fork.

  My mom raised her eyebrows. “Have you finally lost your mind, Teddy?”

  “Certainly not!” he exclaimed. “It’s just my grandson finished my cake while I wasn’t looking and I was hoping to stea—I mean, taste a bite of yours.”

  I rubbed my stomach with satisfaction. “You’re too late, old man.” My dad was just as bad as Luc when it came to acquiring food belonging to others, possibly worse given his years of experience.

  “Too late?” His eyes widened. “But your mother gave you a piece the size of the Grand Canyon!”

  I smacked my lips. “It was really good.”

  He shook his head in disapproval before wandering back through the party.

  “So, Mom, how long do you think it’ll take him to realize there’s a ton of cake left?”

  She sighed. “If he’d only take the time to look for things, Syd, my life would be much easier.”

  My parents cracked me up. They put on a great show and all—verbal sparring, eye rolling and door slamming—but the amount of love they felt for each other was astronomical.

  I grinned at my mother. “I’m so happy you’re here. I can’t tell you how excited Luc has been to spend time with you.”

  “He’s an extraordinary young man, Syd.” She took my hand. “He’s incredibly kind, smart, and, oh, his sense of humor! He makes me laugh so hard, my stomach hurts. You’ve done a great job with him.”

  I felt tears forming in my eyes. My parents had always been generous with their praise, but hearing your efforts at childrearing applauded was a whole other level of respect. I honestly wanted to believe I knew what I was doing, but most days I felt as though I were walking through a mine field of boo-boos, potty words and circular questioning (but, why?). You really never knew what was going to fly into your face at any moment.

  “Thanks, Mom. That means so much to me, especially given the size of the shoes I’ve had to fill.” I used my napkin to wipe tears from my eyes, when a thought occurred to me. “It’s too bad you can’t stay for Halloween. Luc would love to have you come to his class party. He’s told his friends so much about you.”

  My mom’s eyes lit up. “You know what? I think I will.”

  “Really?!”

  She joined in my giddiness. “Absolutely! I’ve been wi
th Ginny for the past five Halloweens. I doubt your sister-in-law will mind if I shower a little attention on the west coast contingency this year.”

  My mom did have a tendency to go a little overboard. At least if she stayed with us her attention would be split amongst three grandchildren rather than heaped on one. My niece was long overdue for a break.

  I bit my lip. “What do you think Dad will say?”

  “He’ll whine and complain, but in the end I’ll get my way.” She shrugged. “The store has been taking a lot out of me lately. I wouldn’t mind a little rest.”

  “And Dad certainly won’t mind more time with Lori.”

  Lori was my mother’s second in command. She was also twenty-five, gorgeous and extremely flirtatious. Whenever my mom took a trip, Lori held down the fort with a wink and a smile. Lucky for us, she knew just how to handle my dad—patience, panache and pastries.

  “No doubt,” my mom said drily. “Let’s go give him the good news.”

  She stood and held her hand out to me, which I readily accepted. Though we were about to unleash an unheard of amount of grumbling from my histrionic father, I knew the hours of pain (right up until his departure tomorrow) would be worth the extra days with my mother. It wasn’t even a contest.

  After my parents had been safely tucked into bed, I thought about how I was going to broach such a delicate topic with my husband. It wasn’t as though we hadn’t discussed having more children before. What tactic should I choose this time? Humor? Honesty? Desperation? That would be a new look for me. Not.

  I sighed deeply while putting on my nightly moisturizer. Where had all these wrinkles come from? Had they been in hiding until I had officially hit my mid-thirties, signaling their time to emerge?

  “What’s the matter, mon coeur?” Louis smiled. “Didn’t you enjoy your party?”

  “It was an incredible party, Bluey.” I kissed him lightly on the lips. “It’s just…I’m starting to show my age.”

  “Are you kidding?” He wrapped his arms around my waist, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. “You look even better than the night I met you.”

  “You’re full of it.”

  “I am full of nothing but honesty, Syd.” A devilish gleam in his eyes told me he was full of something of a much less pure nature.

  I would not be swayed. “Childbearing alone—”

  Louis put a finger to my lips. “I have another gift for you, my beautiful bride.”

  My eyebrows shot up with surprise. He had already given me a gorgeous diamond necklace. Just what was he up to?

  He reached into his pocket, pulled out a rectangular black velvet box and laid it on the bathroom vanity.

  I turned around to face him, no longer content with the sight of his reflection.

  “What did you do?”

  He smirked. “You’ll see.”

  Wondering how in the world we were going to pay for all this birthday frivolity, I slowly opened the box.

  The contents forced all the air out of my lungs. “This is your grandmother’s.”

  He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “But…”

  He waited patiently as I put all the pieces together in my befuddled brain.

  “This means…” Tears of joy prevented me from finishing my sentence.

  Louis removed the box from my hand, retrieved the antique pearl bracelet and fastened it around my wrist. “This bracelet was given to my grandmother by her mother. Each woman in my family was given a similar keepsake when she gave birth to a daughter. I thought maybe I would give you a head start.”

  Once again, my husband had thrown me for a loop. Leave it to him to answer me before I even asked the question. There was no need for debating, cajoling or even begging. (I was absolutely willing to go there.)

  I felt hope alight in my stomach, which was quickly snuffed out by one startling realization.

  “Um, Bluey? Is your mom okay with this? I mean, she was never given the bracelet, well, because you have a penis, but—”

  His hearty laughter cut me off. “Don’t be silly, mon coeur! She is thrilled at the prospect of a granddaughter.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “If you say so.” Simone and I had grown to love each other over the years, but she still had the ability to scare me. She came in a tiny package, but she was tough as nails.

  “What do you think she’s going to do? Rip it off your wrist the next time she sees you?”

  Instead of answering, I asked, “But what happened to having Luc be an only child?”

  “Just because I was an only child, doesn’t mean Luc has to be.”

  Rather than pointing out I had told him this numerous times before (I had quite the talent for ruining a beautiful moment), I asked, “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Louis pulled me into his arms. “You’re an amazing mother. You deserve the chance to shower another little Durand with attention.”

  “Thank you.” My heart nearly burst at the idea of becoming a mother once more.

  “And Luc deserves the chance to share your, shall we say, profound love with another.”

  I pulled away from him, my death glare already in place. “Do you think I’m suffocating our son?”

  Louis broke into a huge grin. “Lil’ bit.”

  I smacked him on the back of the head, something his mother would have sanctioned with all her heart. Such impertinence!

  “He wouldn’t change a thing.” He chuckled. “In fact, Luc is going to have a tough time learning to share.”

  I raised bewildered eyes to his. “He asked me for a little sister.”

  Louis gave me his patented you-should-know-better look before murmuring, “Fantasy and reality are two completely different things.”

  “Oh.” The full weight of this realization hit me in the gut. “Oh.” Louis and I had just agreed on a plan which would rock my little man’s world. Luc had visions of a cute baby who smiled, cooed and worshipped him as the amazing big brother he will be. His innocent little mind had no idea of the sleepless nights, projectile vomiting and explosive diapers which would inevitably lead to Maudlin Mommy and Distracted Daddy. Those early days were not for the faint of heart.

  Louis held my face in his hands. “He’ll be fine. Stop worrying so much.”

  Have you just met me? Worrying is my thang! It’s my jam. Note to self: NEVER use the word ‘thang’ again.

  Shaking the crazy out of my head (or maybe just to the bottom of the barrel), I whispered, “I know.”

  In truth, I wasn’t entirely sure he would be. Luc was used to being the center of my world and before he knew it, he would have to share my attention with a very greedy little one. (Newborns totally make you their bitch. There was simply no way around it.) Not just my attention, but his father’s, his grandparents’, his aunts’; it would be a full ripple effect. All I could do was hope he would take the good with the bad. After all, those were The Facts of Life…

  Chapter Four

  I woke the next morning filled with the most bizarre mix of emotions. I was thrilled about my husband’s final birthday gift, but wondered how and when we should broach the topic with Luc. It wouldn’t come as a shock to anyone that I might have an issue with keeping such a juicy topic a secret. If I didn’t just get it out on the table, I might slip and reveal it in a most inappropriate way.

  Then again, if we did tell Luc, he would begin the endless, invasive, downright soul-crushing questioning torrent. Is there a baby in your belly now, Mommy? No, Luc, not yet. Five minutes later. How ‘bout now? Nope. Two minutes later. And now? The onslaught would continue until I would be lucky to know my own name.

  “Good morning, sweetheart!”

  I clutched my chest. “Good morning, Mom.” When did I walk into the kitchen?

  “Are you okay?”

  While she was used to my “thought trances” and skittish nature, she was probably expecting me to be in a better mood following such a lively birthday celebration the night before.

 
I rubbed my sleepy eyes. “Yes. Sorry, I’m just a little tired.”

  “How about a nice cup of tea?” Her smile was unparalleled.

  “I love you, Mom.” I giggled. “You’re the only person I know who believes a hot beverage can change the world.”

  “Now, Sydney, there’s no need to tease your poor old mother.”

  “A—you’re not old and B—I really do love how much you believe in the power of tea. I’m not teasing you, I promise.” My siblings and I did our mocking in private, even adding a funny little voice as we crowed, “Nice cuppa tea!” but she didn’t need to know that. The secretive ridiculing of their parents was one of the most important bonding activities siblings shared.

  With a skeptical tone in her voice, she said, “If you say so. I’ll make the tea and then we’ll get down to business.”

  A few minutes later, my mother and I were happily settled at the kitchen table with our tea and toast, ready for a full debrief of my life-altering conversation with Louis.

  “I can’t believe it, Mom; the discussion was absolutely painless.” I paused. “Come to think of it, there wasn’t even a discussion. Louis just told me he was ready to have another child.”

  My mother gaped at me. “Without even so much as a prompt from you?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Can you believe it?”

  She thought for a moment. “Actually, I can. Louis is very intuitive when it comes to you, Syd. He seems to sense what you want before you say anything. It’s borderline creepy.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Because I’m so subtle about my desires.”

  “We don’t have to have that discussion, but sex is impor—”

  “Ew! I didn’t mean those kind of desires, Mom, I meant other things—like a new purse or a sweater.”

  My mother put down her mug and laughed. She laughed so hard, she had to hold the edge of the table for support. The other hand held firm to her mug of tea. Apparently, her sacred brew had to be protected even in moments of mirth.

  When she finally came up for air, she spluttered, “Luc clearly gets his comedic timing from his mother.”

  I honestly didn’t know if I should be flattered or offended.