Page 27 of Love Bites

“It is too much for that shop,” she said quickly.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed. We both knew it so why dance around the fact. “I did not wish to strip you and he of everything. I wanted to see you able to enjoy your—”

“If you say the word dotage I will kick your pert ass up between your ears,” she warned playfully. Or what I assumed was playful. Getting to know her as I had, the real her, I had no doubt she could stomp me a new asshole as the Americans are so fond of saying. “Your offer was most generous. Far more so than anything that King Toad would have made, which is how I knew it was your offer and not his. He would have given me a pittance then pissed on it.”

I let that sink in. The lady did have a way with words. That must be where Haider got his gift of gab. It was a charming trait. I suspected I used charming far too much when thinking of that man.

“You allege he stole your apricot berlingot recipe. How could he have done so?”

“We were lovers.” I felt my jaw drop then hurried to snap my mouth shut. “What? We were young once, many years ago. And you Brauning men are quite suave. Your grandfather and I met at school. He chased me for months until I let him catch me. Our affair was short-lived. His possessiveness was strangling me. I am not a woman who can abide being dictated to.”

“That is abundantly clear to anyone with eyes,” I replied.

She gave me a regal nod. “It is a trait that I had to learn the hard way. Back in my day young women were raised to be seen and not heard, to allow the man to lead the way, all of that bullshit.” She sipped daintily then resumed her story. “Eventhough I was always headstrong I was a product of my times, so when Bernhard began acting unkind I let the behavior slide. He was incredibly possessive, to the point near the end that he began insinuating that he suspected I was being unfaithful. A lie. I was too smitten with the man to think of any other male but he would not believe my denials of infidelity. Things began to decay, as love does when you poison it, and at the end he grew frightening.”

“Did he hit you?” I asked weakly praying she would say he hadn’t.

“No, no, he never did hit me, but he punched a wall beside my head.” I felt sick. “That night I left our flat in Bordeaux. I ran to some girlfriends and they hid me but he stalked me at school. Begging, pleading, growing irritable in public. Weeks passed, he would not allow me to gather my belongings, which included my recipes, school books, clothes, makeup. I had to go the local police station to plead my case. They sent an officer with me. Bernhard met us at the flat, it was his apartment so I had no legal say in much of anything. He watched as I took the few boxes he had packed in advance. All the while the police were there he was so very sweet, close to tears, asking me to reconsider. I never replied to one word he said. Looking back on it I should have applied for a protection order but I was just a child, barely nineteen, and only wished to leave him and his domineering ways behind. When we were done the policeman asked if I had everything and I said yes.”

“But he kept the recipe for the apricot berlingots,” I sighed as I watched her retelling this painful tale. I wished my grandfather were here so I could…well, I had no clue what I would do to a wheelchair-bound old man with sickly lungs. Yell. That was what I would do. Loudly. A rock the size of the nearby gazebo began to form in my breast. I wanted to vehemently deny that Opa was capable of such behavior but I could not. Ihad seen how he had strongarmed my grandmother in their marriage. And how he had tried to do the same with my mother but never could quite get her—or myself—totally under his thumb. Just one of many reasons he detested his daughter. The man disliked men arguing with him but respected them for their temerity but heloathedwomen standing up to him. A true sexist as well as a carefully disguised racist and homophobe. This revelation had truly opened my eyes. Capucine had forced me to see things I had tried to ignore about my grandfather because seeing what he really was hurt too much. It reflected poorly on every Brauning who shared his bloodline. The rich pancakes with a side of breakfast sausage I’d had for breakfast wanted to come back up. Sheer willpower kept my food down.

“You look guilty, as if you were the man to lash out at me all those years ago. Yes, he kept that recipe, and several others, but the berlingots…” She lifted a slim shoulder. The lady need not say more. Those apricot berlingots had become the backbone of Brauning Chocolates. They were our overall best-selling item. They’d won Opa many awards back when he was just starting out. Those berlingots had given him the name and prestige required to not only enter the competitive world of chocolate making but to climb to the top of the heap in Europe. A stolen recipe from a young woman he had intimidated. Yes, I felt guilty. And nauseous, and so incredibly mad. “I know they have served you well, my berlingots, but I was not acting wise when you arrived. The sins of the elders should not be carried by the young, but in my defense, I assumed you knew of the theft.”

“I had no clue,” I coughed out.

“Yes, I can tell. You look green as my sandals. I wish I had known of your innocence before I used my words against you.” She looked deeply regretful. “I do apologize for my temper.”

“Please do not apologize for anything,” I rushed to say, placing my empty cup on the bench to take her small hands inmine. “You have done no wrong. My grandfather is the villain in this, and I will see that recompence is made to you and yours.”

She smiled softly. “All I want is for my grandson to be happy. He has carried a large burden for too many years. I ask only that you treat him well in all things.”

“I will do my level best to treat him with the respect that he deserves.”

“Good, good. Oh, and make sure that if you do buy our shop that you keep our workers. I know a new broom sweeps clean but those men, and the ones who come after them, need to be given a chance to return to society.” I nodded as I lifted her hands to my lips. A gentle peck to slim, age-spotted knuckles caused her to bat her lashes like the coquette she was. “Now, I wish to walk through the paintings then return to the stall. I think that you and my Haider have things to discuss, no?”

“Yes, we do.” I rose, took our empty cups to a trash can, and returned to offer Capucine my arm. We made a pass through the oils on display. I bought one for her, a tiny little rendition of a brown poodle she said reminded her of Jacques, a little dog she had owned as a child. She said she would one day like to have another poodle to help her garden when she returned home. I was sure that I could ensure that this fine and feisty lady would retire in comfort with as many tiny poodle dogs as she desired. But first, I had things to do. One of the most important was to speak with Haider for everything that took place later hinged on where Haider and I were personally after we talked.

My stomach was a knotted mess when we returned to the Harmony Chocolates stall. Business was brisk. Capucine gave me a knowing smile then sailed into the mass of customers with all the grace of a duchess. Within moments she had everyone rung out, her lipstick touched up, and had shoved her grandson at me as one would a fresh baguette into the oven.

“The lunch crowd is over. Go and spend time discussing our future,” Capucine told her grandson as she tied a green apron around her lean waist. “Go. I have two strong men to aid me if need be,” she said to Haider as she pulled Edgar, freshly back from the car with a burrito from a food truck in his hand, behind the stall to work. “Make sure you do not come back until a final decision is struck. I am too old and feeble to live with this indecision!”

I glanced at Edgar, now being fitted with a green apron. He gave me a shrug as Capucine held his burrito while Crocus snapped a hairnet on his head. Seeing that my oldest friend was now enlisted to sell candy to the masses, I turned to Haider. He was clearly caught in a whirlwind of indecision. The breeze tickled his curls. My fingers itched to card themselves into that auburn mass of ringlets then lead that sweet mouth of his to mine. But one did not push kisses onto potential business partners.

“I could eat a burrito,” Haider announced, untying then tossing his apron behind the stall. I nodded and fell in beside him, unsure of how to proceed. I would let him set the tone. And if that included stuffing burritos into my already tender stomach then so be it. I was in agreement with Capucine. This festering indecisive state must end, one way or the other.

We walked side by side to the burrito truck. Haider bought four. He handed one to me then stalked off to sit on a bench in front of the local realtor. The sounds of the polka band floated by as I rounded the bench, burrito in hand, and sat beside him. From here we could just see a corner of the green where a clown was making balloon animals for a small group of children.

“I hate clowns,” Haider said out of nowhere before biting into burrito number one. The other two wrapped delicacies sat in a brown bag between us. “When I was a kid I readItand it scarred me for life.”

“I’ve only seen the movie once with an old boyfriend who enjoyed horror. I do not, and so the entire time I was peeking through my fingers as he reveled in the blood and gore.”

“Exactly. I don’t like scary bloody books or movies either,” he said then took another bite of his burrito. And then we sat there, two bumps on a redwood log, staring at the clown twisting a skinny balloon into the shape of a dog.

Five minutes passed. Haider had wolfed down all three burritos. He was now eying mine hungrily. I held it out to him.

“Please, if you want it have it. I only took one bite,” I said as his beautiful eyes flickered from the Mexican wrap to me. “I did not spit on it, I swear.”

“I’ve ingested your spittle as well as other emissions from your body already so I’m not really concerned about that. What I’m worried about is what taking your burrito means in the grand scheme of things.”

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