September,” I said. Céline wrinkled her nose. “I told you we’d have fun, didn’t I?”
She nodded, grinning her gap-toothed grin again. “How?”
“Pick an apple,” I told her. She did, and handed it to me. “Pick another one”.
I peeled each apple, leaving them round. “Now, I’m going to cut out some holes for eyes, a nose, and a mouth”. I carved into the apples, then went to the spice shelf and picked out four whole cloves. “Put one of these into each eye socket,” I instructed. She did, giggling.
I selected about twenty pieces of the long grain rice we usually ground for rice flour. “Put ten in each mouth, for teeth,” I said.
Céline popped them all in, and we stared at our creations. “Now what?” she asked.
“Now we wait”. I put them on a shelf next to the ovens, where they would be constantly exposed to dry heat.
“How long do we have to wait?” Céline asked.
“Till your papa comes home on Friday,” I said. She clapped her hands and laughed.
Patricia, walking by, barked out, “Get back to slicing apples. I have orders to fill”.
But I saw her softened face as she left us in her wake. I set about peeling, coring, and slicing twenty pounds of apples.
Friday morning I got up, having made it through the week, excited to have been at the larger bakery in Rambouillet but knowing I’d be back in the village for a few days the next week. And we were baking at school soon! Breads, the backbone of every Western culture, especially French.
I glanced at my new French Bible, sitting patiently on my kitchen table. “I’m sorry, Lord,” I said. “I don’t know how I have the best of intentions on Sunday and then the whole week gets away from me”.
I determined to figure something out for accountability.
I stood near the table, quickly checking my e-mail before leaving the house. There was one from my mom, home from Italy, describing their new house and asking if I’d be home for Christmas.
No
, I thought. But I didn’t tell her yet. Frankly, I wasn’t sure where “home” was.
There was also an e-mail from Tanya.
I’m spending Thanksgiving with Steve and his family
, she said.
I think it’s getting serious
. I already knew it was serious. I might be making chocolate leaves for her cake before another year passed.
And then there was an e-mail from Dan. My heart did a double beat.
The subject line said, “Hi, Lexi!” I sank into my chair to read the rest.
How are you? I’ve been really busy at work, and of course our softball season lasted all summer. I’ve thought about you quite a bit, but not knowing how things were going for you, felt like I didn’t want to interrupt. I walked by Blue C the other day and thought of our sushi date. I was going to go in, but then I thought, nah. No one to give me a refresher course on how to use the chopsticks. Maybe if you come back, we’ll go again.
Anyway, I am going to be flying through Paris in November. I think I mentioned that my sister is doing a year abroad in Belgium. Well, she fell in love with a Belgian guy, and they are getting married there. I thought, if you have the time,maybe we can meet up and you can show me the sights? You’re probably an old hand by now. If you don’t have time, or have found your own Belgian guy, don’t worry about it.
Talk with you soon.
Yours,
Dan
I still felt something. As much as I’d thought I wanted those feelings to be
passé
, they were not—and I wasn’t sure I wanted them to be. I wished I didn’t still feel his hand over mine at Blue C as I showed him how to work the chopsticks, but I did.
I took a deep breath and shut down my laptop. Then I ran to the train so I wouldn’t be late for school.
Once there, I kept my mind on my work as best I could.
Anne leaned over to me. “Everything okay?”
I was surprised, since she hadn’t initiated conversation before. She moved over to work more closely, which was fine, since Désirée was chatting up Monsieur
She nodded, grinning her gap-toothed grin again. “How?”
“Pick an apple,” I told her. She did, and handed it to me. “Pick another one”.
I peeled each apple, leaving them round. “Now, I’m going to cut out some holes for eyes, a nose, and a mouth”. I carved into the apples, then went to the spice shelf and picked out four whole cloves. “Put one of these into each eye socket,” I instructed. She did, giggling.
I selected about twenty pieces of the long grain rice we usually ground for rice flour. “Put ten in each mouth, for teeth,” I said.
Céline popped them all in, and we stared at our creations. “Now what?” she asked.
“Now we wait”. I put them on a shelf next to the ovens, where they would be constantly exposed to dry heat.
“How long do we have to wait?” Céline asked.
“Till your papa comes home on Friday,” I said. She clapped her hands and laughed.
Patricia, walking by, barked out, “Get back to slicing apples. I have orders to fill”.
But I saw her softened face as she left us in her wake. I set about peeling, coring, and slicing twenty pounds of apples.
Friday morning I got up, having made it through the week, excited to have been at the larger bakery in Rambouillet but knowing I’d be back in the village for a few days the next week. And we were baking at school soon! Breads, the backbone of every Western culture, especially French.
I glanced at my new French Bible, sitting patiently on my kitchen table. “I’m sorry, Lord,” I said. “I don’t know how I have the best of intentions on Sunday and then the whole week gets away from me”.
I determined to figure something out for accountability.
I stood near the table, quickly checking my e-mail before leaving the house. There was one from my mom, home from Italy, describing their new house and asking if I’d be home for Christmas.
No
, I thought. But I didn’t tell her yet. Frankly, I wasn’t sure where “home” was.
There was also an e-mail from Tanya.
I’m spending Thanksgiving with Steve and his family
, she said.
I think it’s getting serious
. I already knew it was serious. I might be making chocolate leaves for her cake before another year passed.
And then there was an e-mail from Dan. My heart did a double beat.
The subject line said, “Hi, Lexi!” I sank into my chair to read the rest.
How are you? I’ve been really busy at work, and of course our softball season lasted all summer. I’ve thought about you quite a bit, but not knowing how things were going for you, felt like I didn’t want to interrupt. I walked by Blue C the other day and thought of our sushi date. I was going to go in, but then I thought, nah. No one to give me a refresher course on how to use the chopsticks. Maybe if you come back, we’ll go again.
Anyway, I am going to be flying through Paris in November. I think I mentioned that my sister is doing a year abroad in Belgium. Well, she fell in love with a Belgian guy, and they are getting married there. I thought, if you have the time,maybe we can meet up and you can show me the sights? You’re probably an old hand by now. If you don’t have time, or have found your own Belgian guy, don’t worry about it.
Talk with you soon.
Yours,
Dan
I still felt something. As much as I’d thought I wanted those feelings to be
passé
, they were not—and I wasn’t sure I wanted them to be. I wished I didn’t still feel his hand over mine at Blue C as I showed him how to work the chopsticks, but I did.
I took a deep breath and shut down my laptop. Then I ran to the train so I wouldn’t be late for school.
Once there, I kept my mind on my work as best I could.
Anne leaned over to me. “Everything okay?”
I was surprised, since she hadn’t initiated conversation before. She moved over to work more closely, which was fine, since Désirée was chatting up Monsieur
Similar Books
