Sawyer checked his watch after puffing out a laugh. “I give them another ten minutes.”
A few other people laid down their guesses. Madison decided her contribution to Kyle’s happiness today would involve kicking off the discussion on The Paris Roommates Group starting a new restaurant with her former boss and mentor.
“Hey!” she called out to the group. “Kyle needs to tell you the other exciting news that came out of William Silver’s visit to the restaurant.”
He cocked his head to the side and simply smiled at her. “Thanks for the reminder, Madison.”
“What is it?” Thea asked, bouncing in her heels.
“Chef Marcel Fournier called and asked if PRG would be interested in opening a new restaurant here in Paris. With him.”
The ear-piercing squeal from Thea said it all, and before Madison detoured to the kitchen, Brooke caught her arm and whispered, “Perfect for Kyle.”
Exactly.
Axel was quietly tending to something on the stove when she bumped his side in greeting. “What are you cooking for us today, Chef?”
He gave a pleased murmur. “I like being called that. You must tell Brooke. I made the Norwegian national dish.Fårikål.It’s a lamb stew with cabbage and potatoes.”
“Axel also made us a special almond wreath cake in the form of a tower,” Nanine said, coming up and putting her arms around both of them for a moment before letting them drop. “You’ll have to pronounce it for me again, Axel.”
“Kransekake,”he supplied. “My cookbook said it’s actually inspired by the French pastry and cake tradition of the sixteen hundreds where people formed towers with their confections.”
“First puddings, and nowkransekake,”Madison quipped, chuckling. “Clearly those were good times. Axel, it was nice of you to cook.”
“I love it, so I was happy to hear we were all going to start hosting.” He covered the dish and turned, not a stain on his apron. “The practice seems more fair.”
“I agree.” Nanine gave them one of her motherly smiles. “It also gives others a chance to shine. Phoebe was speaking earlier about making one of her favorite Italian dishes—Stinco d'Agnello—which is also one of Jean Luc’s. Which led to him saying he was going to ask his mother for her lasagna recipe for when he and Thea host. I love the idea of sharing our favorite cuisine from around the world.”
Madison smiled as she contemplated making some of her favorite Miami dishes for everyone. “You sure you don’t mind not cooking Sunday dinner, Nanine?”
They’d been so careful to preserve her role as chef and mother to all of them, but perhaps it was like Thea had said. That was the past. Nanine seemed happy traveling with Carl to different wineries, selecting special vintages like she had done on her coveted vacations years ago with her first husband.
“Our family is growing,” Nanine murmured with a delighted smile. “Everyone has so much to share. I love the idea of our Sunday dinners reflecting that. Besides, we both know how wonderful it can be to have other people cook forus, especially when it’s from their heart. Food is love, but only when it’s cookedwithlove.”
“Wise words,” Axel agreed. “I believe Dean and Jacqueline have finally arrived.”
Sure enough, Madison heard Dean’s contagious laughter in the hallway as Axel excused himself. She glanced over to where Kyle was standing in the connected living room, and they held each other’s gaze with an unspoken understanding, smiling.
“Kyle looks happy,” Nanine murmured, touching her arm. “Creating a new restaurant with Chef Marcel would be good for them both. He mentioned his mother was ill when we spoke at the menu tasting before Nanine’s opened. I know he’s always wanted to come back to Paris.”
“He has, and Kyle is just the man to make that happen,” she replied easily.
“He also seems to be the man for you.” Her mentor’s intent gaze held a knowing glint. “I’m so pleased for both of you.”
Well, she had wondered if Nanine would say anything. “We agreed to try things out, and so far, it’s going well.”
Nanine laid her hands on her shoulders, her brown eyes full of her usual warmth and understanding. “Bernard used to say love is like cooking a goose. Not that he ever cooked a goose, but he’d watched me many times on the holidays. His reasoning was simple. Making a goose is a commitment as much as a process. Once you buy the goose, you’ve chosen your track. You have to find space for it in your kitchen since it’s not insignificant. And then you must dedicate yourself to the goose itself. You must season it and then baste it, being keen on the temperature as much as the cooking time.” She paused, lowering her hands but keeping her eyes fixed on Madison’s. “I know there were moments when I wasn’t sure if I had enough heat or had cooked it long enough or too much.”
Madison held her breath, knowing Nanine was speaking of doubts.
“Except I wanted the goose to turn out so beautifully that I loved it with all my heart, from the dressing of its flesh to the rendering and roasting of its meat. Every time, Bernard would finish that first bite and say I had done it again. I’d made a beautiful goose—because I’d applied myself to the process with love. And since love can never fail, neither could my goose.”
Coming to Paris—before and now—she’d learned one simple truth from Nanine. Love didn’t let you down, people did. Since no one had loved her growing up, her family of origin had naturally let her down. But not this family—and if she continued to give these relationships the kind of care and devotion she would give a goose, she would always come out okay. No, better than okay.
Dean danced over and noisily kissed her cheek and then Nanine’s, laughing, before moving off again toward the rest of their party in the living room. Yes, the dude had clearly gotten laid.
“If I were talking to Dean,” Madison said, jerking her thumb in his direction, “I’d crack a joke. But I can’t with you. I understand what you’re telling me, Nanine.”
