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“Nichols,” Helen says. “Levi was always too good to take our name.”
“Levi,” a young woman with dark hair says, “Daddy’s outside in the wheelchair. Can you help us get him in?”
“I’ll help you,” Michel says, clearly anxious to leave this incredibly awkward situation.
My mother looks at me. “Explique-moi.” Explain it to me. She reverts completely into French. “You were fired.”
“Suspended.”
“And he is your student. My God, Bastien, I thought I raised you to have some sense.”
“Oh, pah!” Grand-mère says. “One can have entirely too much sense, and if anybody ever did, it was Bastien. I think it’s romantic.”
“Wait,” Michel says. “Is this the boy you met in Washington over the summer? The one you were crying over?”
“Yes!” I seize on it. “The exact same.”
Maman looks back and forth. “Why is it that your brother gets to hear these things and I don’t? I’m your mother, Bastien! I deserve to know when my son falls in love. Not this idiot,” she says, gesturing at Michel. “You were supposed to be the one I was not supposed to be worried about. This one terrifies me every day. I don’t like having to worry about both my sons.”
“What’s going on?” Levi asks in English as he comes back into the room.
“Well, I didn’t know when I met him that this was going to be the love of my life! They don’t come with bells and big warning signs!” I shout at my mother. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you from the coffee shop on day one to tell you!”
“Hey!” Levi interrupts. I turn and look at him in surprise. He puts out both hands. “You need to debrief me.”
“Maman just wishes I had been a little more forthcoming with her. That’s it.”
He gives me a skeptical look that signals that he’s not confident in the thoroughness of my summary. “Oh.” He turns back to my family. “Look, I know this looks bad, but we do love each other. I would follow him to the ends of the earth. And, if you want to know the truth, we’re getting married because his department caught us together so now we’re trying to make it look legit. I understand this is not the wedding you might have wanted. And maybe I’m not the son-in-law you might have wanted. But I do love your son. I will be an amazing husband to him and a good son to you. If you let me.”
The gathered families lapse into silence. “Perhaps we can make some tea,” my grandmother says in English.
“The hell with tea,” Helen grumbles. “This calls for whiskey.”
“Oh, great!” April says. “Our families have decided to get drunk together.”
I turn to look at her. She flashes me a nervous smile. “So it would seem,” I say.
“Translate for me!” Papa says. “No, not you. Bastien. You say it. He needs to hear it from your voice, not my wife’s.”
“Papa wants me to translate,” I tell Levi.
“How much English does he speak?”
“About as much as you speak French.”
“So, basically nothing but a few words here and there. Great.”
Papa clears his throat and puts his hands on Levi’s arms. “Tu aimes mon gars. Les détails ce sont que des détails.”
“Is he telling me where he’ll bury my body?”
“He says, and I quote, ‘You love my boy. The details are only details.’”
“Et si jamais tu fais du mal à mon gars, dis-toi qu’il y a en masse de place dans le fin fond du bois au Canada pour que personne te retrouve jamais.”
“Oh, God,” I say.
“Is that the bury my body part?” Levi asks.
