Abel in Paris
By Jeffrey Allen White

Chapter 1

It was a cool, October day, the kind of day you would expect to have if you lived on the Eastern Coast of the United States. However, this was Northwestern Coast, Seattle, Washington, the Emerald City, home of the Seattle Seahawks and Mount St. Helens. Unlike May of 1980, the day Mount St. Helens blew its top off, the air today was crisp with the brisk chill of the approaching winter. There was a fresh cap of new-fallen snow up in the Cascade Mountains to the east. You could see the white peaks on the mountain range on days like this when the air was clear. Not a cloud in the sky to hold back the rays of the morning sun.

Abel McCormick, a tall, handsome man of 35, stood on his open balcony overlooking the new day, sipping his cup of coffee, his third if you were counting. He had taken to drinking coffee this past summer. He had been a health nut his wife Nina would say. They both were, with Nina leading the lead. Nina always told everyone, who would listen to her that coffee was toxic and could kill you. He had not thought of that since Nina died. He took another sip careful not to drip it on him.

Could it be only thirteen months since Nina died? Sometimes it seemed like years, other days it was just as if she were still alive laughing, baking or just being there telling him to take out the garbage or to order some more confectioners sugar or to just hold him and kiss and then gone again, suddenly, without warning. There were warnings though, his eyes squinting in the morning sun, blinding him for a second. Abel remembered the constant, agonizing headaches, the irritability, and the slow loss of memory. Simple things at first, then times when she forgot to eat, sleeping either longer than usual or shorter, the numbness in her arms and legs, the name of your own child or…

Abel’s thoughts drifted off into another time, a moment before when everything was great, and Nina was great, their restaurant was great and their lives, his life, was great. Were they that long ago? How happy they both were, having a beautiful wife, a great business and…, “Damn”, he said wiping a drop of coffee off the cuff of his shirt. “Hope that drip doesn’t leave a spot. “ Abel held his arm into the morning light to inspect for stains. Seeing no damage, he thought of Nina again. He smiled a big smile. Just the thought of her could make him smile. Nina could always make Abel laugh anytime she wanted. She just had that way about her. Even the worst of days she could light up his world with her presence. Just walking into a room, he would greet her with a huge grin. Abel laughed softly. He looked around thinking how foolish he looked laughing all by himself. However, Nina was like that. She could make him smile, grin or laugh. Like the time when she showed up at the cafe dressed as a gorilla in a brightly colored yellow poker dot hat to advertise their new banana pies. Abel even took a pie in the face once from a hysterically laughing Nina. They both laughed for hours. He found himself smiling again.

Nina was 32 years old but looked as if she were just a girl out of high school. Just thinking of boys, her hair and makeup, proms, taking tests, school and the fun parties they all had as teens. Her face filled his mind’s eye. He thought of her perfect nose, healthy, glowing skin, her long blonde hair pulled into one of those plastic loops that you would see on late night television infomercials right between Hair Club for Men and the Shark Steamer Cleaner, Always put together, always as lovely as the day he had first met her. Nina was the best to him and to their daughter, Sandy.

“Mommy, Mommy, I did it, I got an A on my world history essay.” Sandy was just ten and she had her father’s features more than her mom’s. Nina had always hoped she would resemble Abel as she thought that he was the most handsome man she had ever seen, other than Nina’s father, who reminded her of Abel with his kind, caring ways, and the tone of his voice even when he spoke loudly. Sandy has her father Abel’s thick, brown hair and his dimples, on either side of his wide smile and perfect teeth. She had the same dimpled smile but not pronounced and her light blue eyes sparkled with the blue of summer skies. When she laughed or smiled, his dimples would deepen, making him look even more handsome. Abel always hated his chimp dimps, as he called them, until their Sandy was born. Abel thought they made him look like a clown but after he saw Sandy, seconds old, he cried. That was the first time Nina had ever seen Abel cry, and through his tears of joy, she watched him when their newborn had smiled, mirroring Abel. She was their miracle of love. Nina was happy to know that their child would look like Abel. Nevertheless, Sandy also looks like her mother with the same curve of her cheeks and chin and the tiny beauty mark just above her left cheek. An angel’s kiss, her mother said whom like her daughter, Nina, was always right on everything. Abel smiled again and it faded as he thought about that awful day, which would change his and Sandy’s life forever.

Nina was startled when Sandy had entered, “Slow down, Pumpkin… Where is the fire?” Nina was just putting the groceries on the counter, since she had just come home from the market. Nina always tried to make sure she would be there before Sandy came home on the three days a week she managed to get away the café.

Sandy twirled with a paper in her outstretched hands and still, out of breath from running, excitedly said, “Mom. Look! I aced it. An A of my essay that I did yesterday.” Sandy took a gulp of air, “Mrs. Graham said it was one of the best papers she had ever seen… ever!” Jumping up on the stool beside the counter Sandy tossed her hair back and brought her paper up close for inspection. “Mrs. Graham said I would make a great writer… when I was older of course.” Sandy was smiling from ear to ear, her dimples making her think of Abel.

“Well, that is just wonderful, Sandy. Here, let me see your paper.” Nina sat down at the round kitchen table, which Abel found at a flea market. The chair that needed a little gluing, she reminded herself. Nina looked at the paper closely but really more through it. She could not focus her eyes on the huge red A that Mrs. Graham marked on it. Her head throbbed and she felt a little nauseated. It had started earlier when she was driving home from the market. “Another headache,” she uttered under her breath. Nina had hoped it would not last for long. She was about to get up to go into the bathroom off the kitchen to get a couple of extra-strength Excedrins, when without any warning, she collapsed onto the kitchen floor.

“Mommy, Mommy,” cried a hysterical Sandy. Nina’s arms went flailing about, her head rocking and shaking from side to side. Nina’s eyes, now wide open, were fixed and dilated. As she drifted into unconsciousness, all Nina could do was to stare blankly up at her crying child. Sandy held onto her mother who by then, was sprawled on the floor, having slid off from the chair that needed gluing. Her body went numb. Nina’s arms and legs were shaking less violently now and all the time Sandy was holding onto her mother as she had been held so many times before. Nina would die like this, on the kitchen floor with her daughter sobbing hysterically.

This was how Abel found both of them. His beautiful wife of twelve years, curled into a fetal position on the kitchen floor. The cool air rushed in from the open back door, making the kitchen colder than usual. A jar of marmalade, the kind Abel loved, was broken beside her, spilling its sweet contents all over the floor making it sticky and slippery. Along with the scattered cans and plastic bottles, broken glass and the now hardening of the marmalade, Abel went on his knees to his wife and daughter who was just sitting next her mother, rocking her back and forth in absolute silence. Sandy sat there shivering with her eyes closed amid the disarray of groceries, not even noticing that her father had come home. Exhausted from sobbing, Sandy cried herself to sleep. She sat there numb to the world. Abel’s mind grasped for explanation, “How did this happen? How could this happen?” Sandy had obviously witnessed a major seizure or something else that Nina had suffered.

Abel kicked the back door with his foot as he tried to revive Nina, grabbing her from Sandy who did not even react, her eyes still closed and slowly rocking her mother. There were trickles of blood coming out of Nina’s ears and nose. A brain aneurysm, the doctors would say, had burst in the front part of Nina’s brain. She had died almost before she had hit the floor. The doctors would say it was quick and the pain was over as her life left her body.

It took a while to pry a grieving Sandy away who still held onto Nina’s motionless arm. Sandy was now crying softly and shaking more, but she let Abel pull her away from Nina’s lifeless body. Abel held her. How awful it was for his little girl to witness such a terrible thing and for Nina to die right in front of their only daughter. Abel held Sandy tightly in his arms, wiping away the blood, which had dried his wife’s upper lip, mouth and cheek. He took off Nina’s scarf that she had worn to help keep her warm in the cool October air. Abel used it to wipe her chin and tried to clean her ears. Looking at his wife and wiping the stray hair that covered her angelic face, he knew his own life was over. Moreover, Sandy would never see her mother again. He knew he somehow called 911 on his cell phone after kicking the back door closed, but he did not remember making the call. All Abel could think of was his little girl and the lifeless body that once was his loving Nina. Had he been alone when this happened he would have sobbed openly but somehow managed to stay in control until the paramedics came and took over.

Tears were rolling down his face onto Nina’s very pale face. He would relive this moment for many weeks and months. The paramedics and fire fighters who arrived went to work on Nina right away pulling her body flat on the kitchen floor. Abel made room enough to get their medical gear in and set up. With each shock of the paddles, Nina’s body would react in a violent way. Shielding Sandy’s eyes, he backed up to the kitchen cabinets in order to give the men room to do their job. By the third time he saw Nina’s body erupt with a jolt, he realized that there was no more life in her. Nina was gone, gone from his and Sandy’s eyes and see the pain that would stay with them both.

Abel bent over the railing to steady himself holding his empty cup. Suddenly it slipped from his grip and fell the two stories below, crashing on the walkway that led to their driveway. He stood up realizing what had just happened. “I’ll have to clean that up,” he said to himself.

He thought of the endless dreams that had haunted him night and day, and he thought he would never be the same man again. Could he have made any progress in the months that followed that awful day? Maybe in a year or two, the nightmares would actually become farther apart and maybe even stop at some point down the line. Abel could only hope for a numbness that would take his mind to another place.

After Nina’s death, the therapist he consulted to help him and Sandy said they would both heal in time. “Of course, that is what they all say,” he thought to himself. Time was something that would make it easier for them to bear. Undoubtedly, Abel and Sandy’s life would go on. Sandy, on the other hand, was doing better than he was or, at least he thought, she seemed to be handling it better. He tried to hide his pain from her as best as he could. It was an exhausting task. Keeping up appearances for both Sandy and the patrons, who frequented his café, would take all his energies or what had been after a thirteen-hour day.

Today he would get Sandy off to school, and then go to the café to prepare the daily things he needed to serve and then home again at 3:00 PM for Sandy. Then he would again be back at the café, relieving his help until 10 or 11 PM. An exhausted Sandy would do her homework, watch the little TV he had kept in the office or helped Abel prepare plates of food and cups of coffee. She would come home half-asleep, barely brushing her teeth and getting into her pajamas before she dropped off into a deep sleep. He would lay awake for hours tossing and turning, trying not to think of that day or of his wife. Abel wished he could come home and collapsed into bed, as Sandy did, and slept through most of the night. He greeted the mornings more times, than he wanted to without sleeping more than a few hours here and there.

Even on mornings like today, when the air was clear and the snow-capped mountains in the east gleamed in the far off distance, he would think of her. “Nina,” he whimpered softly, while a single tear rolled down his face dripping into his fourth cup of coffee. A tiny ripple in the toxic waste reminded him of Nina’s warning so very long ago.

Chapter 2

Abel and Nina have opened a small but smart-looking cafe five years ago. He cooked and prepared the entrees and made quick time to the beat of the music that played in the café. Nina would make all the pastries, desserts and salads while Abel loved cooking. His Dad, Carl, taught him, as he was a short-order cook for most of his adult life. When Abel was old enough, he went to classes and became quite the chef, having gained much recognition in the up-and-coming section of the local newspaper’s food section. Abel would take more classes, when he could, to improve himself. He went on to work for several good restaurants and cafes. Abel had met Nina in a food class, Northern Italian Pastries to be exact. A five-week course guaranteed to propel you into better job opportunities and very satisfied patrons. Nina laughed at most of Abel’s attempts of commanding the much beloved Italian Canoli, his much too soft creamy mixed cheese concoction in an over-cooked thick, heavy pastry shell. It was not his forte. Abel could make just about any order that came up on a menu and most times, a special request; but somehow the expertise he needed for the light-shelled pastry and wonderful blend of cheeses would elude him to his surprise.

Both Nina and he would laugh at his attempts at the Canoli. Of course, Nina’s would outshine him and her pastry shells were perfect as everything she did was perfect. They both laughed and often went to lunch, then a movie, a picnic, a whale-watching cruise and a weekend skiing trip to Vail, Colorado. This would give him reason to propose. Two months and twenty-seven days later, they had engaged, and six months later, they were married surrounded by their family and many friends and colleagues. Just a year later, their Sandy was born. Abel was happy, happier than he ever expected to be. He was on the fast track in his career and was married to a beautiful, smart, caring woman he had first met in a Canoli-making-class.

Abel took the money that he inherited from his father who unknowingly saved all his tips over his thirty-five-year career. Carl had put it all into stocks and bonds, where it grew. His left it all to Abel who eventually opened up a small Bistro. “Smaller than a restaurant but larger than a taco stand,” he would say. Hence, he called it what it was, The Bistro. They tried several other names but none was to the point and exacting as just The Bistro. It would stay The Bistro until they expanded some day and another proper name would come up. That was five years ago. The Bistro that, nevertheless, was a small place was a local popular sensation bringing them a very good income.

Abel and Nina had first opened The Bistro just for dinner after five, very casual, soft music playing overhead and a well planned menu of entrees and wonderful, tasty and perfect pastries. Then after several months, they added a daily light and healthy luncheon menu and just last year, a terrific Sunday Brunch. If you did not mind waiting, you would have the best Brunch in all of downtown Seattle. They both worked hard and long. They always took Wednesdays off, just for Sandy, after the luncheon crowd left and before the dinner guests. They both took turns being home for Sandy after school and then back to work again. They were tired but as happy as can be, happier than Abel ever expected he could be. Life was good, very good.

Nina had continued to take morning classes and became an even better pastry chef. Abel was good but Nina, of course, was better. She was perfect. The two of them made a great team and after working together all day and evening, they went home, put Sandy to sleep and then it was their alone time for making love and being in love. Customers were becoming regulars, business was growing and they talked of eventually expanding. About a year ago, Nina started to get little headaches. She would have a headache once or twice a week. “Too much work for two people. We should hire more help,” Abel would lament.

Nina would not hear of it. “With Sandy in school now, there is not any reason I cannot be here full time.” Nina had taken just about every course or class to advance her skills. Nina had been selling her pastries to several other restaurants on a free-lance basis before they opened their own place. She had built up quite a reputation for her fine pastry delicacies. Now was the time they were together in business as well as marriage. Nina and Abel worked side by side. Sandy would come to The Bistro after school and play in the home away from home. In the small cramp office, they kept cluttered with their busy life. She would even learn to help from time to time when their crew was in need of help. Sandy was very proud of her very first tip. An unusually large man, who walked with a cane that had the head of a lion and smelled of cigars, had given her two new crisp, one-dollar bills. This was a lot of money for a little girl of eight. Eventually, Sandy saved enough money to buy Abel an apron, which she had painted herself with her handprints. This was Abel’s proudest possession beside his wife and child. Nina would help him tie it on everyday, and she would hand wash it so not to have it fade its bright colors. The Bistro had become a part of them.

Abel looked on the table and picked up the apron. Sandy washed it as carefully as her mom did and even ironed it, as Nina. She neatly folded it and placed it on the table as she did every Monday. Abel could feel his heart skip a beat as his hand touched the still brightly colored handprints. The joy it gave him was immeasurable by any standard. He placed his large hand over his daughter’s small, perfect handprint.

Today was the day Abel was to meet the real estate agent. The couple who wanted to buy The Bistro was coming to inspect it and maybe even buy the one thing that was still a constant in his life besides Sandy and his handpainted apron. His eyes swelled at the very thought of selling his business. So many memories he cherished and so many thoughts of his wife.

He had not yet told Sandy about listing The Bistro on the real estate market. Sandy loved The Bistro. She had become Abel’s right hand more and more since her mother passed away. She would work with him and would try her mother’s pastry recipes week after week, trying to equal her mother’s talents. As hard as she tried, Sandy had taken after her Dad in this area; and Abel would always tell her how good they were with his mouth full, grinning and making the very best of it. As much as she tried, Sandy knew they were not as good as her mother’s or even a close second. She knew her father was obviously covering up the fact that they were just awful. Her dad always made a huge fuss and she loved him for that, trying harder and harder with each attempt. She loved him most of all for pretending that they were works of culinary art and not the tile grout it looked and tasted like. Sandy knew this personally, as she had once tried to eat some tile grout when Abel was redoing the restrooms at The Bistro. She found out quickly that what looked tempting was neither always tasty nor good for you.

“Well, this is it,” Abel said to himself. “There is no turning back.” He started for the door dreading the sale of the café and yet not selling the café. Either way was the other end of a burning rope as he clung tightly to its midpoint towering over jagged rocks and a lake of molten fire.

“Who are you talking to Dad?” Sandy had just walked out onto the porch and met him head on. Sandy had her hair in the same ponytail style that Nina had worn day after day.

“What? Oh, nothing, Sweet Pea. Just talking to the wind.” Abel looked around. “It is such a beautiful day today.” Abel kissed Sandy on her way toward him trying to change his dreamer tone and make her believe it. Sandy was as intelligent as her mother was, even if she did not possess her mother’s talent for pastry making. “What’s the matter, Dad?” Sandy sat down to eat her cereal and drink the juice her dad had earlier prepared for her.

Abel moved the apron carefully aside on the table and sat down next to his only daughter. “Listen, Sweet Pea.” He gathered up courage from somewhere and said, “There is something I have wanted to talk about to you.” Abel swallowed hard; his throat burned form the toxic coffee that he knew would eventually kill him. “Honey, I have decided to sell The Bistro.” There, he said it in one complete sentence, each word burning his tongue and lips as it came out of his mouth, leaving a bitter taste.

Sandy jumped up, knocking over her juice. “What? How can you sell The Bistro? You just can’t, Daddy.” Sandy’s eyes were wide open as if she had seen a snake or worse. Abel was relieved that he had moved the apron.

Abel took another attempt. “It’s time baby. The business is not what it used to be. I do not think I can keep it going. You need me home with you at least at night more than just a few hours here and there.” Abel bit his tongue, as he knew how much this would upset Sandy.

She ran into his arms and threw herself into his embrace, saying, “I see you right after school. I come here right away. I ride my bicycle as fast as I can!” Sandy was now crying.

Gaining his tortured thoughts, Abel tried to calm her. “Listen, that’s just what I am talking about; you need to have this time for you, to have friends, play sports or go to games and hang out with kids your own age.” Abel held onto Sandy’s shoulders looking into her eyes, which filled with tears. Each sob cut into his very soul. If only he could take away her pain.

Through Sandy’s sobs, she cried out, “But Daddy, you can’t. I will work harder. I will get up earlier and work in the morning to help you get ready before I have to go to school. I’ll stay up later and… and…”

Abel had to stop Sandy before she worked herself into hysteria. “That isn’t the way. I have thought about this for a while now. Since Nina… I mean, since your mother has been gone. It has been hard, hard… on us both. I know how you feel, Sweet Pea, there is not a moment I do not think of your mother, and the café just makes things harder. It is so hard to live with the reminder of what once was. I know you may not understand all this yet but you will, I promise.” Abel stroked her face. “This is the only way for us now. I have thought about this for weeks. I have agonized over this, afraid to tell you but it has been hard. Business has gone down, partly because my heart just is not in it anymore. I cannot keep going in everyday and pretend your mother is simply at the market getting supplies. It’s too hard.” Abel kissed her moist face looking for any kind of understanding, a glimmer of her acceptance of what was to come.

As she hugged Abel tightly she managed, “Daddy, please don’t, I will do anything I can to help. We can hire some more help.” Sandy wiped her eyes and ran her sleeve under her running nose. “Please, Daddy, don’t…”

Trying to keep his composure and ease her concerns, Abel replied, “That isn’t the problem. We have Maria and James; they are more than I can even afford now. The economy is down. We need more volume. I know you do not understand but with our expenses and falling income, we need more money coming in and that means new customers and long, long hours away from you. I just don’t have the knack your mother did with people.” Abel turned away as a tear slid down his face.

Sandy picked up the apron she had made her father and struggled to put it on him. “Daddy, you can’t. Here put this on and go to work. I will stay home from school today. I can read Mom’s recipes and practice them all over again. I will learn, Daddy. I will.” She tried to tie the apron around her father who stood up trying to stop her.

Abel took Sandy and sat her down in front of him, his bended knee steadying his balance. “Sandy, Listen. I just cannot. I need new ideas, I need time, and I need… your mother.” Abel broke down and held onto his daughter, crying as he had not since the day Nina had died.

It seemed an eternity before either of them let go of the other. Sandy’s tears had soaked through his shirt, the one Nina had bought him for his last birthday and the tie Sandy had given him for Father’s Day, the one with the grinning Garfield tossing a pizza overhead. Abel was dressed to impress the people who were coming to look at the café. He dared to hope they would buy it. By now, the morning sun had crossed from behind the roof and its rays had hit them both square in the face. Their eyes, red and puffy had squinted, making both of their sets of dimples catch their fallen tears. “Look at us, Sweet Pea, we’ve flooded our dimps.”

Sandy struggled to make a tiny smile and hugged Abel. “Daddy, please don’t sell The Bistro.” She looked into his eyes, straight into his mind and heart, the place where you are vulnerable and open to the world.

“We’ll talk more about this later. It is time for school. Go on and change your clothes. I’ll clean up here.” Abel managed a matching tiny smile straining to make it look good.

“But Daddy…” Sandy tried to speak, as Abel put his fingers to her lips to stop her. He kissed her cheek and held her closely.

Regaining his composure, he stood up and held out Sandy‘s arms in front of her. “No matter what happens, we’ll have each other. We will get through this and if you hurry, I may even be sure to get you to school on time.”

She looked up at her father with a large but controlled smile. “Do you think Mom can see us?” she asked in a quiet voice of an eleven year old.

Judging his words as he spoke, “I think your mom hears and sees everything and I bet she agrees with me. She would want us to go on and not have to struggle so.”

Turning toward the doorway, she wiped her eyes. “I’ll go change,” and with that, Sandy walked off into the house.

Abel looked at his little girl as she disappeared around the kitchen. He walked over to the doorway and took of the apron that Sandy lovingly made him and folded it neatly into a square and put it into the waistband of his pants, carefully smoothing it out as to not wrinkle it even more. Abel looked at his watch. Nina had given it to him last Christmas. Everything he had reminded him of Nina. Abel looked at his watch again. He would not have time to change. Abel would have to go like and meet the people, his shirt being wrinkled and damp from tears. Maybe his shirt would dry without any stains and his tie would straighten out by the time he arrived at the café. Maybe Sandy would understand what needed to be and accept it. Maybe his Nina would walk through that doorway. Abel remembered about the broken coffee cup but decided it would have to wait. He walked into the kitchen and they both left for their respective destinations. Neither spoke a word until he dropped her off at her school. “I love you, Sweet Pea,” he said with a full smile.

Sandy returned the smile and at that moment, she was his little girl of eleven again as she enduringly said, “I love you too, Daddy.” The wind moved some oh her hair onto her face as she blew a kiss to her father and vanished into the multitude of schoolchildren.

Chapter 3

The people from the real estate were late. That was good. Glancing at his watch, Abel needed this time to gather some last minute paperwork before they arrived. He turned and decided to straighten up the kitchen one last time. As Abel was putting some freshly washed and dried odd pieces of silverware back into a seldom-used drawer, he moved one of the wooden slots to accommodate a larger amount of serving spoons. He found something that felt odd in the back. It was shiny and looked out of place; too much of a color difference between the metals. Abel carefully pulled it out and held it up into the light. He smiled. It was Nina’s charm bracelet. She had lost it just last year. Nina had thought it went down the drain or worse, the garbage disposal. The clasp had been opening much too easily and she feared it might have fallen in while she was using the sink. She had planned to have it repaired but never got around to it. Nina must have caught it on the wooden slot drawer divider and it stayed there for all these months beneath some seldom used odd pieces of silverware.

Abel bought her the bracelet before they were engaged. They had always intended to add more charms as the years passed by. There were only two or three charms on it when she lost it. Abel has planned to get a few more charms for several occasions that meant something to her and him. Nevertheless, between the business and Sandy, sometimes plans were undone. It is funny how something turns up when you never expect to see it again. He or the staff never noticed it before. Probably because the drawer often stuck as it was next to the large dishwasher and the hot, damp air often swelled the drawer tightly shut. Sometimes it opened just enough to slide in something. Good luck finding anything once the drawer sticks. His mind, occupied with his grief, the café and Sandy, that he had just been going through the daily routines. He never looked at things anymore, never really seeing anything. He passed through each day as if in a self-induced trance-like state running on autopilot. Abel hid his sorrow from the world and from Sandy. Abel took the bracelet and put it into his sports jacket pocket. He would give it to Sandy one day and start her with some new charms of her own.

Just as he put the bracelet safely into his pocket, the bell on the front door rang out. It was still too early for customers on a Monday. It must be the real estate agent and the prospective buyers. Abel looked around the kitchen one last time. Everything was as perfect as it would get. The stoves were clean and shiny thanks to James; the pots hanging over the preparation table were all shiny and hanging in their place because of Maria. Both of them are great employees. The refrigerator showed the work he put into it to make it gleam. Late last night after James and Maria left, a knocked off door handle was replaced on the refrigerator door. He stood there seeing his reflection in the shiny stainless steel doors. He saw himself, alone, and far from perfect.

“Mr. McCormick?” called a women‘s voice. The voice was of Mrs. Edith Desmond from a local Seattle real estate office. She was in her early fifties; he surmised and had bright fire engine red hair. She wore a harvest gold jacket that was the standard attire for her company, including the company logo. The combination of the fluorescent red hair and the brilliant gold of the company jacket reminded him of Ronald McDonald. Abel smiled as it came to his mind.

“Mr. McCormick, I am very sorry we are late in arriving.” Mrs. Desmond handed him her business card. “I had to drop off some flyers at an open house on my way here and the traffic was terrible for a Monday morning.” Mrs. Desmond looked around as to inspect. “Something being done on the streets, I think.” She turned to her clients, “This is Mr. and Mrs. Takasumi. That is Japanese for, well, I am not sure at all,” she said grinning as she whispered to Abel. “They are very interested in your lovely café.” Mrs. Desmond took a step aside to reveal a small, oriental couple who bowed at that moment. Standing right in front of them both, they smiled, bowed, and then held out their hands to shake. They were a nice looking couple, perhaps a product of modern Japan. They reminded him of people arriving home by super fast trains after a fifteen-hour workday. They were young and seemed enthusiastic.

“Pleased to meet you,” was all he could think of saying, not knowing their language fluently. These people were, hopefully, here to buy The Bistro, his and Nina’s Bistro, the one they worked so hard together on building up to what it was today.

“Mr. Takasumi is a chef from Boston. He and Mrs. Takasumi worked for a chain restaurant and they want to relocate here and raise their family.” Mrs. Desmond explained nodding her head toward Mrs. Takasumi who was obviously pregnant.

“We are so happy and honored to meet you, Mr. McCormick. We would like to look see,” he motioned towards the kitchen.

“Oh, yes, this is very pretty place. Many big windows and sunlight.” The wife said in her best English. Mrs. Takasumi followed her husband into the kitchen.

“Yes, of course, take your time.” Abel could only think of Sushi and Chow Mien. Would they change the décor? Of course, they would. They would take down the nautical prints and put up silk screens with dragons breathing fire and they probably would have Lazy Susans on each table with small sticky bottles of soy and sweet/sour sauces. There would be fortune cookies with sayings like, you stand at the threshold of a new exciting adventure. Abel thought this was an adventure all right. Mrs. Desmond took hold of Abel’s arm and pulled him gently aside. Her perfume reminded him of his fifth grade teacher, old Mrs. Fletcher. He never liked her either. His nose filled with the over abundant sweet, smelling aroma of flowers.

“The Takasumis are very eager to purchase your place, Mr. McCormick. They think it is a great location and it will need very little in remodeling and redecorating.” Mrs. Desmond had started walking into the kitchen and followed closely by the Takasumis.

“How could he do this?” he thought. “How could he let these strangers into his and Nina’s dream? Wasn’t there enough Sushi Bars in Seattle already?” He wanted to start today over and never wanted to tell Sandy about selling. He wanted to be wearing his gray sweats instead of a wrinkled Garfield tie with tearstains, go to the market, and buy the week’s supplies. He wanted to see Maria and James and tell them the blender was acting up and he needed to change the pricing on a few menu items. He wanted to see Sandy smiling again. He wanted to see his Nina. He wanted to scream.

The Takasumis had examined the kitchen and then the appliances, storerooms and office. They then went into the restrooms and ended up back to the table area bowing each time they passed by. “Very nice tile work, we like very much.” Mr. Takasumi continued, “We like very much. We want to buy. We talk now.” Mr. Takasumi motioned for them to sit at one of the larger tables. He held out a chair for his wife and sat down.

“Mr. Takasumi is prepared to offer you a very fair amount for your business.” Mrs. Desmond sat down, opened her over-stuffed knock-off designer briefcase and found the files she needed and placed it on the table in front of her.

Abel sat down on the other side of Mrs. Desmond facing the Takasumis. His tear-stained shirt was now damp from perspiration. He was sweating. He was past perspiration, even Garfield looked like a drowned cat. Mrs. Desmond handed Abel a folded bid notice. “I know you will be pleased, Mr. McCormick. In this economy, Mr. Takasumi feels your asking price was a little off…” Mrs. Desmond smiled at Abel.

Abel took the paper and opened it slowly. All he could see was five years of hard work, his wife mixing dough, staying late to do the books, his little girl who would play house with the dishware as he tried to focus on the bid in his hands. Abel took a moment to let it sink it. It was enough to pay off everything and be able to start over anywhere. He would be able to pay off all his loans and have enough to take Sandy on a vacation, somewhere to rest and just be with his daughter. “Why, this is…” Abel stumbled realizing the amount. “Are you sure this is correct?” he hesitatingly asked.

“I assure you this is a very genuine and generous offer and a very good one.” Mrs. Desmond turned and faced him. “I know this may be a little overwhelming for you so soon after your wife’s death. My husband, the late Mr. Desmond passed away eight years ago while grilling steaks outside, but it still feels like yesterday.” Her eyes seemed to well up a little. “And you being in the food business, so to speak, know exactly what it is to lose a loved one.” Mrs. Desmond poised herself and stood smoothing her skirt and picking up her briefcase, “I will leave you now and give you time to decide. The Takasumis would like an answer in the next few days.”

The Takasumis stood and bowed respectfully. Mr. Takasumi looked him in his eyes. “You must search your heart. I will wait for your reply.” Mrs. Takasumi took her husband’s arm and started for the door.

“Thank you, Mr. McCormick. We will be looking forward to your phone call within the next seventy-two hours. Here is my card with my cell phone number. Please call me as soon as you have made up your mind. I assure you, Mr. McCormick, that this offer is a very good one, considering, the economy such as it is.” Mrs. Desmond ushered the Takasumis out the door and into her late model car with magnetic signs advertising her real estate company and a not so recent image of herself. Her red hair blazed in the sunlight as they drove off…

Abel stood at the door with the offer in his hand watching as the car disappeared down the street and around the corner. He did not notice James had come in the back door behind him. “Good morning, Boss.” James took off his jacket and put on a fresh apron from the pile of neatly folded and pressed aprons. “You look pretty sharp today. You win the lottery?” he asked and smiled.

Abel looked at the folded offer in his hand. “That depends, James, on your definition of a winner. Look, I will be back later. I need to do something. Tell Maria the vegetables are in the fridge. I already picked them up on my way here.” Abel turned and looked around the café.

James walked into the dining area and looked around. “The place looks different; what did you do?” James asked.

“I am not sure,” Abel managed to say slowly.

“Hey, Boss, what’s that sticking out of your pocket?” James noticed that something was spilling out of his pocket.

Abel reached down and into his pocket and pulled out the apron Sandy had made for him. He had forgotten he removed it from his waistband when he sat in the car and put it rolled up into the jacket pocket so he would not crush it or even lose it. As he pulled the apron out, Nina’s charm bracelet fell out onto the floor. Abel did not even hear it as it hit the soft carpet. “I have to run, James; keep an eye on things. Maria will be here soon.” Abel left and got into his car parked in front and drove off.

Chapter 4

Sandy would be home from school at any moment. Abel had been sitting at the kitchen table since he got home. He was waiting. Waiting to tell Sandy that he was going to take the offer, he had received for The Bistro. He had drunk several cups of coffee. He felt so toxic now he felt he could actually glow in the dark. He was jittery from all that caffeine. He decided to go to the mailbox out front. Nina had spent a week hand painting a wooden mailbox with a seascape on it. Abel opened it and took out the handful of mail. “Bills and magazines, the usual,” he thought. That was all they got these days. He had always let Sandy go through it everyday and sort out his mail from the advertisements and junk mail. Abel went back into the house and laid the mail on the kitchen table.

Abel kept obsessing about his decision. “Could he sell The Bistro? Could they start over without it?” He knew he could work anywhere. He knew he could always work to be better at it and he knew he could satisfy his clients. Abel was very stable and seriously took his job. He had to be. He had Sandy. He would be stable for her more than ever now. Abel kept everything going for Sandy. It was not just for him. He had just wanted to stop existing when Nina died.

Then maybe all he needed was a break from work, away from Seattle, away from the house and the memories. He never really took off when Nina died. There was so much to do, Sandy needed him and he needed to work to keep things going. Sandy’s life was just beginning. She needed to have fun and be a kid. She should not have to help her old man with work. She could be out with her friends and thinking about clothes, school, being with friends and, yes, even boys. Well, maybe she should not be thinking about boys just yet. She was just eleven years old. Abel wished Nina were here; he left these decisions up to her. She was the one who knew best about what was good for Sandy. He was the provider, not the social director.

Slam, went the front door. Sandy ran in and went into the kitchen, throwing her book bag onto the chair as she passed through the living room. “Dad, I’m home. I talked to my guidance counselor and he said I can get early release from school every day so I could help out…”

Abel cut her off. He knew what she was going to say. “No. You are not going to leave school early everyday to come and help me at work. That is not your job. Your job is to be a kid and go to school and have fun.” Abel took a gulp. “Listen, today I had some people come in to see about buying The Bistro and…”

”Daddy, you cannot do that. You just can’t!” Her tone was of confusion and fear of what was going to happen. She had thought it all out. She even talked her guidance counselor into letting her leave early. She explained how since her mother died, her father needed her to help in the family business. She had good grades and was a good student.

Abel put his now empty coffee cup in the sink and went to Sandy. The coffee had given him stomach pains. On the other hand, was it because of selling the café? “I didn’t sell it….yet. I just showed it today to a young couple. They made me a very generous offer and I have a couple of days to decide about it. I will think about it and make my decision.” Abel felt he conveyed his position and his authority.

Sandy was not so anxious now. “You did not sell it, Daddy? Good, then there is still time for me to talk you out of selling it,” she said calming down to almost normal.

“Well, let’s just forget about all this for a little while. I have a few days.” Changing the subject, Abel went ahead with an idea. “It has been a hard day for the both of us. I say we need a little time away. Just the two of us would be fun. He needed to go somewhere to think things out and see what they are going to do. What do you think? A couple of days in California sound good. Would you rather Disneyland, maybe?”

Insulted, “That’s for babies, Dad. Who can think of going away when…? I mean we have work that we can do here…” Sandy did her best to behave in a proper manner.

“That’s just it, Sandy, you do not have to work. This is your time for growing up. You should not have to concern yourself with business at this age. You… and I both need a little time off. Somewhere we can relax and maybe talk things out. I have a little money saved up for a couple of fun days somewhere. If we are frugal, we might even be able to eat a couple of meals while we are away.” Abel hoped that he was reaching her.

Sandy sat and held her head in her hands as she leaned them on the table. “I don’t want to go anywhere.” This was her defeated lament. “We’ll see. Do you have any homework to do?” Abel ran upstairs. “I brought the mail in, Sweet Pea. It’s on the table.” Abel was already up and out of earshot. I took the entire day off.” Abel felt the tension had lifted a little.

Sandy sat there for a minute or two. “How could he do this? How could he sell it?” They spent more time there than at home. It was her home away from home. Mom loved that place.” She felt close to her when she was there.

The mail on the table was neatly stacked in a pile in front of her. Sandy began to sift through it, making smaller piles. She started sorting out loud, “Bill, bill, ad, a letter from Aunt Chelsea, Dad’s sister, a magazine, bill, Vacation Dream Escape, another ad… Hey what was that?” Sandy picked up the envelope she had already passed up. It was from Vacation Dream Escape, the same one she has entered her dad in almost six months ago. She had forgotten all about it. She was trying to keep busy after her mother died. She entered him into every contest she could find that did not cost any money. She never won anything before.

Sandy turned the envelope over. There was a picture of a young couple waving from a window of an airplane. “Wow, how’d they do that up in the air?” she muttered to herself. She turned it over. It was for Mr. Abel McCormick. Sandy always put her dad’s name on all the contests, as she was not old enough according to most of the contest’s rules. She knew that from a TV movie about a kid who won a contest and could not collect it because they were under age. The moral to that story was to put your parents’ name on all contest entrees. “So simple.” she congratulated herself.

The envelope opened easily. Inside were a letter and a small packet. She unfolded the letter and began to read aloud, “Dear Mr. Abel McCormick, Congratulations! You have won the grand prize in our Vacation Dream Escape contest. Wow! We won!” Sandy stood up smiling. She continued to read. “Your prize, Mr. Abel McCormick includes two first class tickets to…. Paris! Daddy, Daddy!” She yelled for her father to come downstairs.

He came down with tennis shoes over his clean white mismatched socks. “What? What is the matter? What happened?” He fell into the kitchen chair, the one that needed gluing.

“We won! We won!” she managed to yell out as she jumped up and down in the kitchen. Abel had not seen Sandy this happy in a long while.

Abel sat at the kitchen table, finished putting on his tennis shoes, and tied them before he tripped himself over a lace. “What did we win? A month of aerobics at the gym would be nice. Alternatively, maybe a free Del Taco salad and small drink of our choice would be better.” Abel was glad she was smiling again.

“No, Daddy, it’s a trip, a trip to…” she screamed and tried to speak slowly and calmly between gulps of air.

“Let me see.” Abel took the letter from Sandy‘s hands and read, “You have won two round trip tickets and hotel accommodations for two to Paris!’” “You’re right!” Abel looked up in disbelief and then back to the letter, “and $500 in spending money?’” Abel could not believe it. “This cannot be true. There must be a catch in there somewhere.” Abel searched through the letter and envelope, which Sandy handed him. He examined it closely; it was notarized and looked on the up and up. Sandy handed him the two round trip airplane tickets and a certified check for $500 made out to Mr. Abel McCormick.

“We won Daddy. We won. Can you believe it? Paris, we are going to Paris, France!” Sandy was in awe and she was up and twirling around.

Abel stared at the ticket and certified check in disbelief. “This is really something.” He knew of Sandy and her entries into contests but they never won anything before. Maybe a key chain or a calendar but nothing ever like this ever happened before. He was happy that she kept herself busy with the contests. It seemed to make her happy after Nina died. He thought it would be fun for her to win. Abel never won anything before. “I guess this is for real, Sweet Pea.” Sandy sat on his lap and hugged him. Abel looked at the tickets, check and letter again. He hugged Sandy again. They were both smiling. He studied the letter again.

“I guess we’re going to Paris, France, Dad. My teacher says they are rude there but…”

Abel cut her off in mid-sentence. “Sandy, the letter says we won all right.” Sandy was smiling and about to jump up again. Abel held her down and explained in a calm voice even though he wanted to scream out himself. He looked into Sandy’s eyes, mirrors of his own. Her smile, the biggest he has ever seen. “But it’s not Paris, France, Sweat Pea, it’s…. Paris all right…. Paris, Texas!”

Chapter Five

Lilly was a very beautiful girl still in her mid 20’s. She was born in France, just outside the beautiful City of Lights, Paris. Her father and mother both were society people. Their ancestry, family businesses and dedication to the arts gave them an upper class life, having the right friends, politics, prestige and education that needed to set them up in the elite society of Paris. Lilly would have the opportunity for the finer things in life. Fine schools, good friends, an education in the finest schools and Lilly learned to appreciate all that was good and proper. Although she was from one of the best families in Paris, Lilly was a humble, soft-spoken girl who was a friend to everyone no matter there ancestry or position in life. Her parents educated her for a life of high society and a place among the aristocracy of Paris. Both her parents loved her so, that when she decided to become a chef, they supported her even though they desired her to marry a doctor or other professional and have several children in a beautiful Parisian apartment and to join them in their society photos in the newspapers.

Once her parents came to grips with Lilly’s decision to become a chef, both Louisa and Jean-Pierre Bassette were able to enroll their only daughter in the famous Cordon-Bleu School of Fine Cooking. Many great chefs started their careers there. It only took money which they had plenty of due to business and land holdings in and around Paris. Nothing was sparred in Lilly’s education. After college and finishing school, she was to find a husband, settle down, join into society and take over her parents charitable works. With her being their only child, they doted on her and her education.

At age 15, Lilly wanted to be a ballerina. She would spend hours at her ballet bar and in her home studio practicing and taking daily lessons. At 16, she became interested in writing; she wanted to expand herself in verse and wrote poetry and stories by the drawer full. At the age of 18, she tried her hand at fashion design, attending a prestigious fashion design school for almost six months before dropping out to travel the next eighteen months across Europe, backpacking and staying in hostels in countries like Italy, Greece and Spain. She was fluent in five languages. Then at 20, she set her sights on learning to cook and become an excellent pastry chef. Her parents were always behind her although they were disappointed their only daughter had not became the young society debutante of Paris, where she’d attend the most lavish parties and festivals, go to the best art galleries and museums and become a pillar of society in the only world that they both knew.

Three years of cooking school and several less than successful positions in top Parisian restaurants thanks to her Papa, she decided to go to the United States to bring the culture and cuisine of her people and her talent as a chef to the people of America.

Distraught over this plan of Lilly‘s, her parents tried to talk her out of it promising her anything to keep her home. They thought this would just be another spirited adventure in their young daughter’s life. Her father Jean-Pierre even promised her a position in one of their hotels restaurants they owned. However, Lilly was determined to make it on her own merits so she would go bring her culinary expertise to the fast food, frozen dinner and microwave using Americans. Lilly took her savings and a large gift of money and the reluctant blessings of her parents. Moreover, the promise of her room waiting for her should and when she returned.

Her father asked her, “But where do you intend to go my dear, New York, Los Angeles, Boston, and Chicago? We have friends with hotels there also. Perhaps a position working for one of them?

Lilly interrupted him, “I have heard of a place in one of the largest states of a city that intrigued me.” Lilly was full of wanderlust and drifted off somewhere in her mind.

Jean-Pierre and Louisa stood there for what seemed like an eternity until finally her mother spoke up. “Where do you intend to go to my dear? Somewhere grand and lavish would be my choice.”

“I hope somewhere I can open my own restaurant.” Lilly went to that special place only she knew of.

“But where would you go, mom Cherie? Where do you intend to start this new venture of yours?” Jean-Pierre went to his daughter and put his hands on her shoulders turning her around to meet her face to face.

“Oh father, it is a wonderful place. It has the same name as my birthplace. A place called… Paris, Texas. It is a perfect place to start my own business.” She was beaming with excitement.

Her father, not believing what he had heard, asked. “But to go to a place you have never been before and to live and work in a culture that is so different from your own?”

“Why Father, it is named after our very own beautiful city. Paris. How different could it be? I expect they are just like us. I do believe I will be successful there. With a name like Paris how different could it be?” Lilly turned to her mother who was weeping silently. “Oh, Mama, do not be so afraid. I will be all right. I have my savings and I know exactly the place I want to have, a small but elegant restaurant serving fine dinners with wine and cheeses, just like the places you and Papa frequent here at home.”

“Nevertheless, my daughter, how do you know of these people? You have not been there before. You have never been to America at all.” Louisa tried to compose herself and not cry anymore.

“I know it will be hard Mama, but I want to create my own place, somewhere I can develop my skills and grow.” Lilly was dreaming again.

“You can grow anywhere my dear, her father interjected. Could you live among the common cowboys and savage Indians of the West…? How could you?” Louisa started to weep once again.

Lilly laughed, “It is not like that Papa, and Texas is a very wealthy state in America. There is much international trade and commerce.” Lilly tried to ease her parents concerns. “Here are brochures I have sent for telling of how the state is so large that a single family owns the largest working ranch. It says it takes hours just to drive through it.” Lilly handed the brochures to her parents hoping to ease their worry.

Louisa looked through the brochures featuring southwestern scenes of wide-open spaces. The thought of her only daughter could be living on a ranch where they kept cattle and livestock mad her all the more apprehensive.

Lilly produced another brochure. “I have received information and a guide from the city of Paris, Texas, Chamber of Commerce. They say that Paris, Texas is a wonderful place full of life, diversity and opportunity.” Lilly’s blue eyes widened and her speech became intensified. “There are many places to rent and I hope to find the perfect place to start my restaurant and career.”

“You know your mother and I am very proud of you and love you very much.” Lilly’s father put his arms around her and brought her closer to him. He looked at her lovingly and into her bright wide blue eyes, his own were holding back tears of both pride and sadness. His only daughter was leaving the nest, leaving her country, her home to become an American executive. “Promise me one thing, mom Amie.” He lifted her chin so he could see her entire face. “Promise me that if you cannot find your dream, you will come back. Your mother and I wish you much success.” He kissed both her cheeks and then her forehead.

“I promise Papa.” Lilly reached out for her mother to join them. If I do not succeed within six months, I will return and go to work for one of your hotels.” Lilly hugged her parents tightly as they all stood there together. Tears flowed from all three, holding on with all their strength. No one wanted to let go first.

Eventually, Lilly’s father pulled away reluctantly and went to the large buffet cabinet where they kept their finest crystal and china. It had been in her father’s family for more than 200 years. The ornate drawers were deep and long. Her mother stored family treasures between the pressed linens. Lilly’s father picked up some of the linens that were passed from one generation to the next such as when a child married. Louisa carefully removed them, placing the linens on the large dinning table next to the ornate buffet. Her hand searched for a small box that was beneath the lace napkins. Finding what she searched for, her mother joined her father and together they held the small box before to Lilly. “Before you go, we want you to have this. It originally belonged to my grandmother; she wore it on her wedding day.” Lilly’s mother handed her the treasured

Lilly took the small ornate, hand-tooled, delicate box and opened it. Inside was a locket, a gold locket on a chain. Lilly lifted it so the light from the window reflected its intricate design. The shape was that of a heart, not your average heart but one of precision and exquisite design and of high quality gold. “Mama it is so beautiful.” Lilly began to cry. “It is so lovely. I remember seeing it in old photographs of Grand Mama.”

“Look inside, you will find two photos. One is of your great grand father, and the other is of your grandmother, my mother, who in the photo was very beautiful.” Louisa’s mother had died when she was very young, not much older than Lilly age. “This locket was worn by my mother until she died. My Grandmother had passed it down. My mother, Josephine would tell us stories of how her parents were so much in love and how her grandfather. Jean-Luc, has given it to his young bride, Antonina. My grandfather never stopped loving his wife. He missed her very much. Three generations of women in this family wore this locket. There are four generations counting you now. I decided it was much too valuable a thing to wear with a very active child to take care of. I was afraid to lose it even though I had your father take it to our jeweler to check the clasp to make sure it was strong and tight.” Louisa spoke softly and continued, “I was always too afraid to wear it after you were born in fear that it would be lost or broken but it is your legacy now to have it. Wear it and remember your family and where you have come from.” Louisa had leaned her head on Jean-Pierre shoulder as he put his arm around her. “I feel that this locket will keep us all together even though the miles are distant.”

Lilly, admired the locket. “It is so beautiful. I hope to be in love some day as you and Papa, your parents and grand parents. Grand Mama was so pretty.” Lilly examined the small photos of her long gone relatives. Her great grandfather, her mother’s own father was a kind looking man with a smile punctuated by deep dimples on either side of his wide smile. Lilly thought he was so handsome. Her grandmother had lovely brown hair and the same unique smile and dimples.

“I hope you will find your dream my daughter.” Jean-Pierre said as he gave her the small satin box that held the locket so safely all these years and an envelope containing a plane ticket to France, from the United States. “Who knows, perhaps you will find your true love. I met your mother in a rainstorm while on holiday up north. We shared the cover of a newspaper. We were both soaked through to our skins but we fell in love and the rest is how you say? It is history!” Jean-Pierre kissed his darling wife and then Lilly. “Now go and pack, you have a dream to catch.”

Lilly’s mother helped her put the locket on and turned her to see into the large mirror behind her. Besides Lilly who was radiant and smiling, stood her very proud parents. They looked at their beautiful daughter, Lilly, wearing the lovely braided gold chain with the heirloom golden heart locket.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 28.01.2011

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