Opposites Attack: A Novel with Recipes Provencal (9 page)

BOOK: Opposites Attack: A Novel with Recipes Provencal
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A Litter of Loirs.
A Gaggle of Girlfriends.

Alyce’s alarm went off far too early. Shuffling into her kitchen, she thought about all the homework she, again, didn’t get done the night before and how poorly she was doing at school.

Bleary-eyed, she realized she was out of coffee and went in search of more. She reached for a cupboard door she hadn’t opened yet.

“AAAAIIIIEEEE!”

A gray rodent resembling a shrunken squirrel jumped out and onto the counter. She stayed there, rigid with fury, on all four legs, screeching at Alyce. Behind her, in a pile of leaves, twigs, and torn up cardboard, was a glob of tiny, hairless writhing babies, eyes unopened.

“It’s okay, Mama,” Alyce backed away. “I’m not going to hurt you or your babies.”

The mother’s warning subsided into mean chirps. Her babies were so helpless and strangely beautiful that Alyce was still staring at them when Isabella—dressed only in panties and a man’s unbuttoned shirt—arrived at the door with Jean-Luc’s hyper dog. The mama
loir
jumped back in the cabinet, still screeching.

“What’s going on?”

“Don’t let Didon in here!”

She pulled Isabella inside, shut the door behind her, and tried to ignore her bare breasts. After a quick inspection, Isabella closed the cabinet door on the little animals.

“They are
loirs.
She got in through a hole in there. Kill them all or you will never sleep. Lucky she is the
glis glis.
A delicacy.”

They could still hear the mother angrily chattering at them.

“Eat her?”

Isabella cocked her head. “I know just the recipe. A stuffing of pork, pignoli nuts, parsley, and anchovy paste tucked inside that little cavity, sew it all up—”

“Ewww.”

Didon stopped barking when Jean-Luc appeared. He had on jeans, no shirt. Unlike the hair on his head, his chest hair was a rich dark brown.

“What the hell is the matter?” He rubbed his neck.


Loirs
,” said Isabella.

He explained that the outdoor sonic detector that kept them away had broken and he never fixed it. Then he had the nerve to suggest, “You should have it fixed.”

The pressure of being a stranger in a strange land, the humiliation of being a terrible student, the cruel we-don’t-speak-English joke they’d played on her and their condescending attitude in general, opened something in Alyce akin to the mother
loir
defending her litter.

“Me fix it? Some host you are! First you pretend you don’t speak English, then you—”

“Now that you know we can,” his eyes narrowed, “do not irk us with questions like what does this mean, how do you say that, and what did the horse symbolize in my book.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be staying far away from both of you! And your damn book! I’ll eat dinner alone from now on.”

He punched the air with his right index finger like an impatient person attacking an elevator button. “You will still help in the kitchen.”

Her voice nearly cracked when she said, “I’m not your damn slave!”

They pulled back, more amused than insulted.

As they walked away, Isabella put her arm over the back of his low-slung jeans and curved her finger into one of the belt loops. The weight of her hand pulled down his pants a bit. He wasn’t wearing underwear.

Alyce heard him mutter something, which caused Isabella to lean into him and laugh.

She hopped in the shower. Slowly her hands stopped shaking as the warm water calmed her. She finally stepped out, only to hear a commotion in the kitchen, the mother
loir
screeching again. She quickly put on her robe, heart pounding.

“What are you doing?” she asked Isabella, who was heading out the door with a pillowcase in hand, the mama
loir
fighting to escape.

“No!!” Alyce tried to wrest it from her. “How will her babies survive? I don’t mind them!”

A tug-of-war ensued with Isabella repeatedly yelling “Yes!” to Alyce’s “No!”

“We are eating her!
You
can be the babies’ mother.”

Alyce let go out of shock. The horror of what was about to happen left her gulping back tears. Couldn’t they have waited until the babies were bigger?

It hit her that one man’s adorable pet was another’s pest. And food. Nelson once told her when he was in Machu Picchu, he was invited into the home of a native family. He saw furry animals that looked like guinea pigs roaming all over. He thought they were pets. Turned out they were their main source of protein.

She came to France to have an adventure. She was getting one.

She also recalled Nelson saying, “Machu Picchu is one of the most amazing places on earth. I’d love to go there with you one day. In fact, I’d love to see lots of places with you.”

Her heart melted into a big gooey pool then. He saw a future with her. Not long after that he was singing a different song. What happened? And what made him suddenly want to be with her again? Was it as simple as seeing a therapist; putting an ocean between them?

On her iPhone she Googled
loirs
(after spelling it wrong many times).

Alyce learned they were also known as dormice. Photos showed them sleeping on their backs, curled into tiny balls, with little pink hands and feet dangling, cute as could be. They’d open their eyes in three weeks, eventually eating berries, leafy green vegetables, and nuts. They were particularly fond of apples. Dry dog food was also acceptable. Right now they needed milk.

She called Liliane and told her she had to miss school and why. She expected Liliane to scold her over the notion of caring for baby rodents.

“You are having strong maternal urges, Al-
ees?

Sounding almost guilty about it, she answered, “Yes.”

“I understand, very much so. My husband found a litter of abandoned newborn kittens when we were dating. We took turns feeding them warm milk with an eyedropper. It was sad when we had to find them new homes. It was also what prompted us to start our own family.”

She paused. “One day, our boys convinced us to get an aquarium. We filled it with fish and plants. They quickly lost interest and the fish died. We will not be doing that again. I can give you the aquarium for the babies to nest in. I have an eyedropper somewhere. I will pick them up at lunchtime and bring them to you. I need to see Jean-Luc about something anyway.”

“That would be wonderful!”

Alyce spent the morning coaxing the babies to lick warm milk off her finger. As they twisted, squeaked, and instinctively pulled in the direction of her hand, a wonderful feeling surged through her.

There was one thing she could do well.

Around 1:00 she was distracted by the sound of a horn honking and another woman’s voice coming from Jean-Luc’s kitchen as well as Liliane’s. She thought about wandering over but was afraid she’d see a butchered mama
loir
.

Her curiosity and hunger pangs got the better of her.

A petite Asian woman was showing her diamond engagement ring to a mildly interested Jean-Luc, smiling Liliane, and envious Isabella.

“If it had not been for Jean-Luc I would not have known how wonderful Paul was.”

Everyone’s head turned toward Alyce.

“Am I interrupting? I just wanted something from the refrigerator.”

“Hello.” Mazuki eyed her with curiosity.

Liliane said, “Don’t worry. I brought us lunch.”

Jean-Luc explained Alyce was a student of Liliane’s staying in his cottage.

Mazuki shook Alyce’s hand. “
Enchanté.
Just remember, there’s no one better than Jean-Luc for fun. If you keep it in the right perspective, it won’t be so bad when it’s over.”

Before Alyce could correct her, Isabella did it for her. “
I
am his lover, not her!”

Jean-Luc sighed, held out his hand. His sister placed an envelope in it. He examined its contents, divided it in half between the two women. Oddly, they seemed reluctant to take it.

Liliane shook her finger. “That is more than you owe them. Why do you do that? And now that Mazuki has claimed her car, what will you drive?”

“I will make more money, it would have cost the same to rent a car, and Isabella needs cash for a plane ticket.” Isabella looked like she had been punched in the stomach. “Isn’t that what we decided last night?” he asked, sounding confused.

“I didn’t think you meant it!”

An awkward silence followed. Alyce felt she should high-tail it back to her cottage but was too transfixed to leave.

Mazuki interjected, “I am sorry, Isabella. I should have told
you
what I said to Al-
ees.

Isabella, knowing she could not win, asked her, “Could you give me a ride to the train station? I will only be a few minutes.”

She fled the room after taking the money from Jean-Luc.

Then it hit Alyce. “Did you eat the mother
loir
already?”

Jean-Luc said, “She is marinating in the refrigerator. Would you like it, Liliane? I don’t care for it. I told Isabella not to bother.”

“Thank you, I will,” his sister answered.

Bile rose in Alyce’s throat. She ran to her cottage in time to dry heave into the toilet.

When she came out, Jean-Luc was placing the aquarium on the dining table. Liliane had a shopping bag with her.

“I thought we could eat together, Al-
ees
,” she said.


Merci
,” Alyce said, “but I don’t have an appetite now.”

“I must work,” said Jean-Luc. Before he left, he added, “I am very sorry for what Isabella did. She was just threatened by you.”

“So she killed an animal?
A mother?

“I bring out the best and worst in women.”

Once the aquarium was set up and the babies securely in it and asleep, Alyce was ravenous. They ate their baguette sandwiches with fresh local tomatoes, cheese, arugula, and mustard at her bistro table by the Tree of Love. They could hear the faint typing of Jean-Luc at his computer through his office window on the second floor. It was far enough away that they could speak without being heard.

Liliane squinted as though deep in thought. “I admire your determination to learn French. I think you will get it in time. Often it is not a gradual incline but big leaps, then a plateau.”

That was reassuring, but she still couldn’t imagine speaking anything close to understandable French.

“You are welcome to babysit anytime,” she said. “It would help you with your French, my boys with their English—” she gave Alyce a wink “—and give me time with my husband.”

“I’d love that.”

“Of course we will pay you.”

“Oh, no,” she protested. “Well, maybe if I have to move into a hotel.”

“Let us hope that will not happen.”

Alyce refilled their glasses of apricot-rosemary tea.

“How is everything going here?” Liliane asked.

Alyce wasn’t sure where to begin. “Well, unpredictable, I’d say.”

“A nice way of putting it.” She pursed her lips. Oh, the stories Alyce knew she could tell.

She thought Liliane was through with the topic of her brother when she said, “Jean-Luc has had a difficult life, Al-
ees
, and he is an artist. Put the two together and you have a radio that does not tune into the frequency of real life. It can be tiring, but he is so intelligent and entertaining it is impossible not to love him—just like a little boy.”

Alyce struggled with a question. “Do you and Jean-Luc have the same parents?”

It turned out they were half-siblings with the same mother who was no longer alive. Jean-Luc’s father left when he was a child.

“It was easy for
Maman
to spoil him since she was so alone. He also had the energy of a hurricane. Most geniuses do. Later, when I was a child, she married my father, an Algerian. He took the much-needed upper hand. Jean-Luc was 16 and fled to Paris.

“He soon found success with his first novel. It proved to be too much, too young. He lost his mind and spent time in a sanitarium. I did not know him well until he wrote
Renée
, which the publisher changed to
The Horse.
Did he hate that title! Until it was a hit.” She shook her head. “He was so overwhelmed. I wanted a closer relationship with him. I helped him.”

Alyce put down her baguette. “Could you go back to the lost-his-mind part?”

Her head tilted to the left as she considered how to answer. “He hit bottom. He needed to. Now he is much stronger. But he has a new demon. Growing old. He is 38 and thinks he has one foot in the grave.”

Her candor prompted Alyce to say, “I can see why. He already looks dead.”

Liliane burst out laughing. It made Alyce feel good to crack up a woman so poised at all times. She also felt bad for saying it.

“You should have seen him when he had a tan and dark hair,” Liliane said. “Quite the lady-killer. What am I saying? Women swoon over him just as much now.”

“Don’t count me among them.”

“That is good to hear.”

Alyce sat back and inhaled the country air. She didn’t want this lunch to end. She wanted to know more about Jean-Luc.

“Liliane, I get the impression he’s not good with money. To me, that’s a turnoff.”

“I’m with you, Al-
ees.
” She told Alyce that her brother had made a lot but would overspend on women, friends, the less fortunate. “Or he gives it to the fire department, my school, the police. He is greatly admired here for his generosity but does not know how to look out for himself. He needs a good, sensible woman. If only he would surrender. I fear he never will.”

Liliane shook her head, sat back, and pushed her half-eaten sandwich away.

“Is something wrong?”

An expression came over her Alyce had never seen before: guardedly warm.

“Morning sickness is not confined to mornings.”

“Oh!”

“I meant what I said about babysitting. Simon and I would like to have a little fun before we’re tied down again.”

Why was everyone getting pregnant around her? First her sister, now Liliane. “I’d love to help. You’re happy about this, right?”

“It’s unexpected, but good.” She added wearily, “Jean-Luc is going to have to sell this property, though. I cannot keep helping him.”

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