Chapter 31 Cody #2
Pierre leans back in his chair and snorts softly, staring into the distance.
“Luc’s been begging me to take him there for years, constantly telling me how beautiful Besancon is and that he wants to go back.
I can’t believe he pulled it off on his own.
” His gaze falls back on me, giving me an inquisitive stare.
“Although . . . not on his own. I’m assuming you’re paying for everything? Including the house you live in?”
“It’s a rental. We want to buy a house after the wedding.”
“So the wedding is still on?”
“Very much so, yes. In fact, I wanted to hand you this personally.” I reach into my chest pocket, pull out an envelope, and place it on the table. Pierre looks at me for several seconds before reaching for it and opening it.
Inside the envelope that’s addressed to him is the save-the-date for our wedding.
It’s on white textured paper, with subtle squared edges around the message.
The save-the-date is in French, and at the top in golden letters are our names in a chic, swirly font that Luc picked.
The invitation, date, and a short announcement that the location—somewhere in or close to Besancon—will be announced later, are written in the same font underneath it, but smaller.
In the bottom corner is a small sunflower to show the theme Luc and I decided on.
“I told Luc I sent it by post; he doesn’t know I’m here,” I tell Pierre as he reads it.
“Keeping secrets already, huh?” Pierre says, and the comment could be considered rude, but the amusement—and perhaps even admiration—in his eyes tells me not to take it too seriously.
He inspects the piece of paper and asks, “Luc’s design, I take it?
” I nod, and Pierre tilts his head meaningfully. “The boy has style.”
I can only nod—that’s precisely what I told Luc before I left. “He does.”
Pierre then looks up from the save-the-date and glances at me. “You both do, from what I can tell. It’s a talent he could use if he really wanted to.”
I give a light shrug. “He’s doing what he loves. That’s the most important thing.”
Pierre scoffs at me. “Is it? Then tell me, when you buy a house, who will pay for it?”
“Both of us, but mostly me, probably.”
“And it will be in both your names?”
“That’s the plan.”
Pierre places the paper on the table, quirking his eyebrows. “Be careful, then. Nothing tends to last with Luc. He didn’t become interested in cakes until last year, and I’m not sure it will last much longer.”
“He’s working at a cake shop right now in Besancon. He started there shortly after we moved.”
Pierre frowns, his surprise clearly showing. “Is he really?”
“Yes. He looks happy . . . except for one thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“He really wants you to come to the wedding.”
Pierre makes a soft, incredulous sound, reaches for his coffee, and takes another sip. “Does he?”
“He does, and—” Just then, my phone starts buzzing, and I pause mid-sentence to pull it out of my pocket and look at it.
“It’s Luc,” I say to Pierre as I see his name flashing on my screen. “Do you mind if I answer?”
Pierre waves it off. “That’s my son you’re talking about. Go right ahead.”
I look at him for another second. “Just don’t let him know I’m here with you, please. I’ll tell him eventually, depending on how this goes.” I try to place extra meaning in my tone and expression, and he catches on. He nods.
I only hope he’ll stick to his agreement, but I’ll just have to see. My phone keeps buzzing, so I quickly swipe right to answer. “Hey, baby,” I say as I pick up.
“Hey, can we talk? Are you busy?”
I look at his father. If Luc had any idea . . . “No, I can talk.”
“What are you doing?” he asks me, not sounding suspicious. I suppose I should be relieved about that, but I can’t bring myself to be. Because I have to lie.
“Just . . . preparing some stuff for work while having coffee. What’s up?” The words his dad just said pop into my head. Keeping secrets already, huh? I press the thought down. This isn’t a lie, it’s a surprise. Those are different things. I’m doing this entirely in Luc’s best interest.
Luc sighs softly. “I found this amazing wedding venue. It’s an old, renovated castle with ballrooms that would be great for a reception, especially if it’s raining, and beautiful gardens where we can get married if it’s sunny, and guess what?
Those gardens are full of sunflowers. It’s perfect for us. ”
“That sounds like a great venue for sure.”
“Yes, but . . . it’s twelve thousand dollars for the day.”
I frown at that. “Twelve thousand dollars?! That’s . . . that’s a lot of money.”
“I know. We can’t afford it, can we?”
“Maybe. We can do it if you really want it.”
“I do want it, but . . . I think I want a honeymoon and a house more. Will we still be able to do that too?”
I run a hand through my hair, mentally going through my bank balance. “I think we can, but we’ll definitely have to cut back on those things.”
Luc stays silent for a while, and I imagine he’s thinking, looking at something with that same intense expression his father has. Then he says, “I don’t want to cut back on those. What happens after the wedding is more important. I’ll try to find something else.”
I nod and smile, even though he can’t see it. “There has to be somewhere cheaper that we like.”
“I agree. I’ll keep looking.”
“Alright, I trust you. Thanks for calling, baby. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
We hang up the phone, and when I look up, I find Pierre staring at me. “What’s all this about a twelve-thousand-dollar wedding venue?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Luc found this amazing castle with everything we want and more, but it won’t happen. I told him we could, but Luc said what happens after the wedding is more important. He wants to save the money for a honeymoon and a house, maybe some other stuff.”
I could almost swear Pierre looks impressed. “That’s quite sensible of him.”
“He is sensible,” I reply, taking a sip of my coffee, and I can’t help but crack a small joke.
“Much more sensible than he looks.” Pierre’s dad chuckles, and I use it to turn the topic around.
“And he might try to hide it, but it hurts him that you brushed us off so easily at the cafe when he introduced me. We are getting married after all.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
“About getting married or about you brushing us off?”
“The latter.”
I shrug. “Not a lot. What you think doesn’t matter much to me, but Luc’s happiness does, and I know he’ll be miserable if you aren’t at the wedding, supporting him.”
Pierre frowns at me, and I can only hope I haven’t pissed him off by saying I don’t care what he thinks.
When he remains silent, my worry grows. Have I ruined it?
Is he the type of man who needs to feel admired and respected before doing favors?
If he is, I’m screwed, and I’ll have no chance.
Maybe I should have just sent the save-the-date by post, as I told Luc I had.
But then Pierre says, “I’ll consider it.” And I decide to take the risk and push further.
“I need you to do more than consider it. Because I also want you to deliver a wedding cake—the biggest and most expensive one you’ve ever made. He deserves it. Your son deserves to know you love and support him, especially at his wedding.”
Pierre leans back in his chair. “Did he tell you that I don’t?”
“Not with those words. He only told me you don’t care about love—only about work.”
Pierre snorts softly. “He may have a point there.”
“Can I ask what happened to you?”
“Same old story,” Pierre replies, shrugging. “A man and woman are in love, get married when they’re too young and naive, and over time, things change for the worse. Then, what was supposed to be a happy ending, results in a difficult divorce, with brutal financial losses for the man.”
“Is that why you left France?” I ask him.
He nods. “Luc’s mother got the house, and I wanted to get far away from her and our family and friends who picked her side in the divorce.
I took Luc with me. I was the one who took care of him, after all.
His mother turned inward. I left everything else behind.
If you ask me, love is not worth the hassle.
” Pierre leans toward me, folding his arms on the table and becoming even more serious.
“Which is why you should be careful. I could tell just by looking at you that you have much more to lose in this marriage than Luc does. He’s young and impulsive, doesn’t know what he wants. ”
I frown. Is Pierre seriously warning me about his son right now? “He seems pretty sure when it comes to me. And I’m willing to take my chances.”
Pierre stares at me for a few seconds longer, then looks away and leans back in his chair. “Alright, it’s your decision. Try to set some boundaries at least. Take precautions. You know what I mean.”
I think I do, and this time, it’s my turn to scoff. “Are you seriously suggesting I have a prenuptial agreement drawn up before marrying your son?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then. You really must not have any faith in love at all, or in your son.” I glance at the save-the-date in front of him, the beautiful piece of paper Luc spent hours working on.
If I’m sure of one thing, it’s that Luc isn’t acting like someone ready to throw it all away.
He’s tough. He knows things can get rough and isn’t afraid to buckle down.
I’ve seen that in the past months. I’m not going to suggest a prenup—not a chance.
“I think we’re done here,” I tell Pierre as I finish my coffee. “I only hope you’ll come to the wedding with the present I suggested. Just don’t tell Luc about it, I want it to be a surprise. And if you’re going to drop the ball on this, try to let me know in time.”
Pierre smiles at me almost proudly, “You’re a good man, Cody. Luc is lucky to have you. Some people have that in life; they’ll never amount to much, but they have a partner who’ll save them from failure. That applies to my ex-wife, but I had hoped it wouldn’t apply to my son.”
I shake my head at him. “You underestimate him, Pierre. You’ll realize that one day, see what I see. And I may not have kids, but I will still say I truly hope that until the day you finally respect your son, you’ll still try to be a good father.”
Without awaiting his response, I stand up and hand him my business card.
“Here’s my number if you want to talk. The theme for the wedding is sunflowers—Luc’s pick.
So maybe don’t show up with a pink or black wedding cake.
Other than that, I trust your judgment. Luc told me you’re the person who taught him the job, and if you’re half as good as he is, I know we’ll have an amazing wedding cake.
I, for one, look forward to eating it.” I nod at the empty cups. “Thanks for the coffee.”
Pierre doesn’t nod or give me any other indication that he’ll do as I asked. He only says, “Understood. See you later.”
I walk away, clueless about what’s going to happen now.
At least I know I did what I could. I seemed to have made a good impression on Pierre, given what he said to me, and hopefully I managed to talk some sense into him about how he’s treating Luc.
I guess we’ll have to see. The eighteenth of August—that will be the moment of truth.