Beginner's Luck by Laura Pedersen

Author:Laura Pedersen [Pedersen, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Chick-Lit, Coming of Age, Family Life, Fiction, Sagas, Women's Fiction
ISBN: 9780307414656
Google: 4wlcTPvbZLcC
Amazon: B000XUBBQY
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2007-12-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

Full Table ♣

My mother is scheduled to arrive at noon on Sunday. At a quarter to twelve Mr. Bernard is enthusiastically demonstrating the proper way to place a slice of quiche on a plate and then garnish it with purple kale and sprinkle rosemary on top. "A successful presentation includes serving the courses at the right temperature with the right beverage and in keeping with the theme."

"What do you mean the theme—like runaway adolescents?"

"No, silly. The continuity, the total ambience—par exemple, at Christmastime you have a decorated tree and certain traditional dishes, drinks, and songs. Today we're going française, à la Gigi—a petit déjeuner of beet vichys-soise and nicoise salad with quiche Lorraine and croustade aux pommes avec crème glacée for dessert. And of course you'll offer your mother a glass of Beaujolais."

"But she's going to throw a foal in the spring."

"Pardonez-moi?"

"She's pregnant."

"Ah oui, enceinte, but of course. Offer her sparkling or spring water with a slice of lemon or a wedge of fresh lime. Then we'll sing 'La Marseillaise' for the baby's listening pleasure. It's beneficial for unborn children to hear music.

"Marchons, marchons," he sings, while making the whipped cream for dessert.

Mr. Bernard has tactfully offered to leave Mom and me on our own for lunch, but we all end up dining together, which I think is rather how he planned it in the first place, since he had plates for all of us stacked in the kitchen and ready to go. The guys appear keen to demonstrate that I'm not residing with weirdos. Mr. Bernard and Mr. Gil may be different, but they're not stupid. They know what people like Herb and Al say about them. Thus Mr. Bernard has emptied the downstairs of funny hats, suggestive paintings, and the nude statue in the guest bathroom has mysteriously been replaced with a clipper ship in a glass bottle.

When my mother arrives they don't model earrings, do the can-can, or perform movie scenes. Even Ms. Olivia is in on it. She doesn't start railing about her latest cause, which happens to be the unfair government representation and land appropriation of the Chiapas villagers in Southern Mexico. I'd spent the morning helping her write a petition to be passed out at her church so the members can collect signatures at their respective workplaces. Ms. Olivia is chairperson of the Chiapas Right to Fight committee. Actually, she's the only person on the committee. Apparently the church has eighty-seven members but over a hundred committees.

Before lunch we show my mom around the downstairs of the house and give her a tour of the backyard. It's obvious that she finds Mr. Bernard to be charming. But then most women do. In fact, the older and more affluent ladies in town often stop by his shop just to gossip or complain about their kids and marriages. Not surprisingly, he usually manages to sell them something before they leave.

True to form, Mr. Bernard politely holds the doors for my mother and gracefully motions for her to precede him as we enter each room.

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