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“What kind of history?”
“Bruno… look, just Google him and read about his court-martial. That’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
“All right, I’ll do that.”
“But Jimmy, don’t mention what you find out to Lauren; just be aware of it.”
“Whatever you say, Holly, and thanks.” He said goodbye and hung up, then he turned to his computer and typed in Bruno’s name.
He read the news stories with wide eyes.
27
Teddy Fay went busily about preparing for Lauren Cade’s dinner visit. He put the duck into the preheated oven and laid out the ingredients for their first course, then he cleaned up the mess he had made during his preparations and adjusted the light in the kitchen to a more welcoming level.
He set the table in the living room for two and put new candles into their holders, then he opened the bottle of cabernet he had selected and left it on the table to breathe.
Teddy enjoyed not just cooking but all the preparations that went into having a woman over for dinner. When she arrived, he wanted to look well prepared and have everything go smoothly.
An electronic chime sounded from his study; a car had turned into the driveway, the first time that had happened since he had installed the warning system. He was happy to know it worked. He took off his apron and hung it next to the stove, then went to the door to greet her. She was just getting out of her car with a bottle of wine in her hand.
“Good evening, Lauren,” he said and pecked her on the cheek. “Come in.” He opened the screen door for her.
“I thought this might be useful,” she said, handing him the wine.
It was a very nice French burgundy. “Thank you so much,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind if we don’t drink it this evening; I’ve already opened a bottle. Can I get you a drink?”
“Scotch, if you have it,” she said.
“I’ve got Johnnie Walker Black or a single malt, Laphroaig.”
“Johnnie Walker would be lovely.”
He seated her on the couch and poured them both a Sco
tch.
“Something smells good,” she said.
“I hope you enjoy duck.”
“I do.”
They chatted idly for a few minutes, and he poured them a second drink.
“Why don’t you come into the kitchen while I prepare our first course,” he said, and she followed him. He put her on a stool at the kitchen counter, then proceeded to dust the sweetbreads with flour, drop them into a pan with hot clarified butter and sauté them. When they were ready, five minutes later, he transferred them to a small platter and led her to the table. He lit the candles, then poured a little wine into his glass, tasted it, and then poured them both a full glass.
She tasted the wine. “Oh, this is better than what I brought,” she said.
“You chose well, and it would have been just as good with our dinner as mine.”
Teddy sat down and watched for her reaction as she tasted the first course.
“Delicious!” she said. “But I don’t know what it is.”
“Sweetbreads,” he said, stopping himself from telling her that they were the thymus gland from the neck of the calf.
“I’ve never had them, but I like this.”
