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I take a second to appreciate the beautiful form that is my soon-to-be husband, then answer, ‘Just before eight.’ It was the earliest reservation Jae could get, as most Italian restaurants are barely open by 8:00pm.
Jean-Luc is most of the way into the en suite, when he leans out and says, ‘Oh, and your father … he asked me today about where we will be living?together, when we are married …’ My stomach clenches and as well as I know Jean-Luc, his expression is unreadable.
‘Oh?’
‘I told him we will decide soon, n’est-ce pas?’
‘Oh, right, yes … of course. Actually, Mum brought it up today too,’ I say, though I’m not sure why as it prompts Jean-Luc to emerge from the doorway. He comes to stand directly in front of me and peers down.
‘Catherine … chérie … the more I ponder on this … my apartment … it is a home for us. It will belong just to us.’ Oh, fuck. But what did I think was happening?that he’s so laid back that he wasn’t ‘pondering’, as he says, that he was content to let me ignore our situation until the decision was made for us by some twist of fate? Of course, he wouldn’t do that?he’s an intelligent man. Patient, yes, but there is only so long I can expect him to wait. We’re getting married in a few days!
‘Right,’ I say quietly.
‘You agree, then?’ He smiles broadly. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Have I just agreed to live in Paris?
‘Sorry, I mean, you’re right in that we need to make the decision. And soon.’ He deflates a fraction and my stomach twists and turns so much, it must look like a Celtic knot in there.
‘Soon, mon amour. It is not just your parents who are asking. Jane will need to know soon. And …’
‘And what?’ I whisper.
‘I need to know.’ I raise my hand to his cheek and he leans into it, then drops a kiss on my forehead and goes to shower.
So much for burying this decision down deep and holding off until after the celebrations. I guess the fates had something else in mind.
‘Lou!’
‘Cat!’ It’s like one of those vignettes at the end of Love, Actually, a tearful reunion of two friends who are close in their hearts but separated by an ocean and a continent.
She’s taller than I remember, I think as she hugs me. ‘And this is Anders,’ she says, letting go. He steps forward and if Lou is tall, then Anders is a giant. He must be at least six-foot-five. He’s also broad and looks remarkably like a lumberjack?checked shirt and all. He leans down and gives me a hug.
‘So nice to finally meet you,’ he says.
‘And you!’
When he releases me, I make the introductions?Jean-Luc, Josh, Sarah, and Alistair?and Jaelee steps up to hug Lou. They’ve only seen each other once since we all travelled together. Jae took a business trip to Vancouver, but that was a long time ago and this is the first time the three of us have been together in three years. It’s a pity Dani couldn’t get time off work?the four bus besties back together again.
After hugs and handshakes, we get seated around the large rectangular table. The restaurant is located, as many places in Tuscany are, on top of a hill overlooking a deep, lush valley, mostly hidden in the evening shadows. In the distance, lights twinkle along a ridge?Montespertoli. We’re seated on the terrace, only they must have discovered the secret to keeping the mosquitoes away, as I have yet to see (or hear) one. It’s a little chilly, but I’ve dressed for it, and the glow from the candles on the table lights our faces warmly. It’s heaven.
The sommelier talks wine with Jean-Luc and Sarah and they order two bottles for the table?‘Vermentino’ is the varietal I don’t recognise?and the waiter (aptly) waits patiently for our attention so he can tell us about the specials. My ears prick at truffle risotto, which they finish at the table inside a wheel of parmesan, and I stop listening?I’m definitely having that. Most of us order starters (a fennel and grapefruit salad for me), as well as a main dish, but none of us opt for the typical three courses?starter, pasta, then main. But I may have dessert.
Conversation down my end of the table turns to, ‘So, how did you two meet?’ with Sarah asking Lou and Anders.
Lou giggles. ‘Oh, you know, usual thing?boy meets girl, boy saves vomiting cat … very romantic …’ She and Anders glance at each other, both smiling.
‘What?’ Now Sarah’s laughing.
‘I know, right? I was looking after my neighbour’s cat while she was on vacation and he got really sick, like, the day after she left! I woke up to the sound of him retching?possibly the worse sound in the world, by the way?and there was yarn-filled cat vomit everywhere, the poor thing. It was around four in the morning, so I found a twenty-four-hour vet online, bundled him up in a towel, and drove across town. Anders was the vet on duty.’ She gazes at him dreamily. ‘You were incredible with Mr Snuffles, hon.’
‘Just doing my job, ma’am,’ Anders replies playfully. Lou giggles some more and I’d swear she’s blushing, though it’s hard to tell in the candlelight. I love seeing her like this.
‘Hold on, Mr Snuffles?’ asks Josh drily.
‘Yeah, you’d be surprised what some people call their pets,’ replies Anders. ‘And this cat is a Maine Coon who weighs nine kilos. He should be named something like Brutus or Rasputin or … Moose.’
‘Moose! Ha, that’s awesome,’ says Josh.
‘That may be the most Canadian thing I’ve ever heard?a cat called Moose,’ says Sarah.
