14. Hildy #2
When Walter started to turn in that direction, Hildy grabbed his arm without thinking, spinning him to face the back of the barn. “Is that a hayloft? Have you ever thought about how hay is like beef jerky for horses?”
He gave her a funny look. “I have not.”
“A little less handsy with the sister-of-the-bride’s boyfriend.” Corinne hooked her elbow around Hildy’s, towing her to a table in the corner. “What do we have here?” she asked an aproned staff member.
“Magret de canard fumé.”
“Like prosciutto, but it’s duck,” Hildy translated.
Corinne accepted a thin slice on a round of crusty bread. “Oh shit. Sorry! I meant ‘merde.’ This is incredible.”
The magret maker laughed.
“Try it,” Corinne urged. “You need to find a different object for your lustful thoughts. A foodgasm will make you forget—”
“Thank you,” Hildy interrupted, turning to make sure Walter wasn’t in hearing range. For once, he and Maude were together, though her gaze kept flitting to Lo?c, who was looking right back at her from his post near the door.
“What’s he even doing here?” Hildy wondered out loud. “Are they expecting a rock art emergency at the duck farm?”
“I think he gave her a ride.”
“I bet he did.”
“In his car.”
“I hope the seats recline.”
“Not our problem,” Corinne reminded her.
Hildy knew she was talking about more than ergonomics. “I like knowing people’s business.”
“Some more than others.” Corinne accepted a glass of walnut liqueur from another member of the staff. “Fuck me, that’s good. No idea how to translate that to French.”
“Seems like something they’d say.” German was the go-to language for depressing one-word put-downs, but the French were the MVPs of making everything about sex.
Corinne took another sip of her drink. “Not going to lie, I was afraid it would taste like furniture polish.”
Hildy frowned at her. “Why?”
“The color, I guess. Where are you going?”
“To say hi to Fiona and Robbie.”
Corinne gave a grudging nod of approval, but not before checking the distance between the bride and groom’s table and Walter.
“How’s it going?” Hildy asked Fiona, who was glowing with either love, whatever facial treatment she’d had at the spa, or the oxytocin rush from eating all those fat-filled French delicacies.
“So great,” Fiona enthused, dropping another slice of duck breast into her mouth. “Is it just me, or is everything here delicious?”
Robbie sighed, casting a forlorn glance at his plate, where four slices of bread had been denuded of their toppings.
Walter slid into the empty fourth chair. “What’s happening, kids? Are we doing an interview?”
“No.” Hildy kicked him under the table, semi-accidentally.
“We’re being sociable. I mean, I am. And letting these two lovebirds enjoy their delicious, artisanal duck.
And figs, which I happen to know are an aphrodisiac.
A famous chef told me that,” she added for Walter’s benefit.
“He takes a very sensual approach to food.”
“You might want to fact-check that claim,” Walter said.
“About the figs?”
“All of it.”
Hildy turned to address Fiona and Robbie. “Have you talked about the cake?”
Walter made a sound of disbelief. “You don’t know about the wedding cake?”
“I know everything about the cake,” Hildy retorted. “Ask me about the passion fruit gelée.”
“I don’t need to ask.” He let her stew for a few seconds. “I’ve already tasted it.”
Damn it. Hildy’s fist clenched, hopefully out of Walter’s line of sight. She forced a smile. “I meant whether they’re going to feed each other the first bite. And if so, are they going for smash and grab or something more restrained.”
Fiona flapped her hands at chest level, showing off her perfect nails and massive diamond. “So it’s actually going to be really cute. We have these meringue mushrooms on top of the cake that we’re going to feed each other. Perfect bite-size morsels.”
“Also, meringues are gluten free,” Robbie added. “And egg whites are high protein.”
“Yes,” Hildy said slowly. She hadn’t pegged Fiona’s husband-to-be as a keto warrior.
“We should practice!” Fiona picked up a piece of bread and held it out to her fiancé.
“I don’t know, Fee—”
“Come on, babe. What are you waiting for?”
“Here, we’ll all do it,” Hildy said, in case having an audience was making Robbie twitchy. “Ready?” she asked Walter, holding up a slice of bread.
He gave her a wary look. “Try not to poke my eye out.”
“I did have a lot of coffee this morning, so I’m feeling a teensy bit shaky.” She jerked her arm like she was drawing a Z in the air.
“That’s how we used to feed my baby cousin.” Robbie smiled at the memory. “Either the airplane or the choo-choo, depending on his mood.”
“Do you want the choo-choo, Walter?” Hildy batted her lashes at him.
His hand closed around her wrist, holding it in place. Before Hildy could react, Walter bent to sink his teeth into the bread. When his lips brushed her fingers, she almost dropped it.
He sat back, taking the bread with him. Hildy watched him chew, eventually remembering to close her own mouth.
“See, Robbie?” Fiona said encouragingly. “We can put our own spin on it. Just relax,” she half sang, bringing the bread to his lips.
At the last second, he jerked sideways, and the baguette poked him in the cheek.
“Oh my gosh.” Fiona placed the hand not holding a hunk of bread over Robbie’s. “Thank goodness we’re doing this now. Can you imagine if that happened at the wedding? I’ll come in more slowly this time.”
“It’s not you, Fee.” Robbie’s face twisted. “I’m worried about getting a wheat belly. You know what they say—carbs are the silent killer.”
“It’s called Spanx, Robbie. Everybody uses them.”
“But I want to be shredded on our honeymoon! You’re so beautiful, I don’t want people looking at us and thinking, ‘She should be with somebody like that Aquaman guy.’”
Fiona looked utterly perplexed. “But I love your body.”
“I love your body.”
Hildy started to make a maybe let’s lower our voices gesture, but they were too far gone.
“If you really loved me, then you would love what I love,” Fiona insisted. “Which I just said is your body!”
“I already had my final fitting. I don’t want to mess up the lines.” Robbie gestured at his stomach.
Fiona threw up her hands. “We’re never even going to wear clothes in Bali.”
“That’s why I want to look good naked!”
Yelling the word “naked” was a surefire way to get everyone in hearing distance to tune in. Fiona shifted uneasily, aware they were attracting attention. “Who cares how you look if you’re going to be hangry all the time?” she asked in a lower voice.
“Try the foie gras,” Hildy suggested. “It’s totally low carb.”
Robbie turned to her with the wide, innocent eyes of a cartoon bunny. “Is that the mean one? Where they force the ducks to eat too much?”
“Good question,” Hildy stalled. “I’m sure Walter knows.”
He put a hand to his ear. “Sounds like Maude’s calling me.”
“She’s definitely not,” Hildy said through gritted teeth.
Apparently Walter only had ears for his beloved, because Hildy’s voice made no impression.
“So,” she said into the silence that followed Walter’s escape. “Anybody want dessert?”
Robbie whimpered.
Hildy could have slapped herself. She blamed the lingering effects of having her fingers licked. Walter had probably been trying to bite one off.
Fiona shoved the foie gras into her own mouth. “There,” she told Robbie. “I saved you.”
It seemed the crisis had been averted, until Fiona abruptly stood.
“Where are you going?” Robbie asked. “Fee?” He hurried to catch up with his fleeing fiancée.
Corinne strolled up, licking the back of a spoon. “Should I be worried?”
“They’re fine,” Hildy replied, with more confidence than she felt. “Or they will be, once Robbie has a snack.”
“Maybe he needs a juice box and a nap too.”
Don’t we all, Hildy thought, watching Walter smile at something Maude said. He’d probably let her choo-choo him all day long.
“I’m sure it’s just normal prewedding nerves.” Behind her back, Hildy crossed her fingers. “Lots of couples get them.”
“As long as we don’t make it worse.” Corinne reached for the last piece of bread. “And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you.’ And Walter.”