21. Bud

There wasn'ta single seat left in the café as the lunchtime crowd filled Pascal's Patisserie. In fact, in the past week, the place had become so popular that I'd taken to sneaking in the back door to avoid the queue at the counter, just so I could pick up the lunch that Pascal had started leaving for me in the café's kitchen.

As I found my little to-go pack of quiche and macarons on the counter, Pascal came in from the café with a stack of plates balanced on his plaster cast.

"A-ha! Thief! Caught you red-handed stealing the lunch I'd prepared for my handsome American boyfriend," he joked. "Do you know him? He works at the florist shop next door."

"Is he the one with the handsome French boyfriend who works at the patisserie next door?" I joked back.

"That's the one." Pascal let the dishes slide onto the counter before cozying up to me, his lips pursed and ready for a kiss.

He rested his plastered arm on my almost healed shoulder, and I noticed all the signatures on his cast.

"Geez, is there any space left on that thing at all?"

"Nope, I don't think so. I do believe every last person in Mulligan's Mill has signed it now, even the guy who arrived back in town this morning. What was his name again?" Pascal searched for it on his cast. "Ah, there it is. River."

"Old Man Raven's son is back in town at last? That's awesome. He's a great guy, we went to school together. He's a war hero, you know."

"He looks kinda tough. He certainly rides a big enough motorcycle."

"And yet, he's still got a soft spot for Clarry's ice creams."

"Don't we all?"

I noticed the noise from inside the café. "Sounds kinda busy in there. Shouldn't you be getting back to your customers?"

"I forgot to tell you," Pascal said excitedly. "I hired staff."

"You have? Who?"

"A sweet couple. Retirees. They come in here so often I thought I might as well give them a job."

At that moment, Benji's parents—Lonnie and Ronnie Larson—came shuffling into the kitchen, each wearing an apron as they compared notes on their waiter's pads.

"No, dear. It was table seventeen that wanted the chocolat éclair, while table seven wanted the pain au chocolat," said Lonnie.

Ronnie chuckled. "Oh, you say potatoes, I say potartoes."

Lonnie giggled too. "That's les potartoes when we're at work, darling."

They both burst out laughing before Ronnie said, "That's hilarious."

"I know, it's too funny."

"It's too hilarious."

"I know. We should video that on the iPad and send it to Benji. Did you bring it with you?"

"Bring what with me, dear?"

"The iPad, dear."

"Don't you remember? It's broken."

"It is?"

"Well, it's not exactly broken. I've just forgotten the password again."

"Oh, that's a shame. We'll have to get a new one."

From inside the café, someone rang the bell on the counter.

Ronnie and Lonnie looked at each other excitedly.

"Oh, that's for us, dear," said Lonnie.

"We're up. Let's go!" said Ronnie.

Together they returned to the busy café with their notepads in hand, completely oblivious to the fact that we'd been watching them the whole time.

All I could ask was, "Do they know how to use the cash register yet?"

Pascal shook his head. "Baby steps, my love. Baby steps."

I smiled. "I love it when you call me your love."

"You do?"

"Yes. Because your French accent makes it sound like ‘lurve'… like it's something we should be making… all the time. Oh, speaking of which, you haven't forgotten our date tonight, have you? The flower shop, eight o'clock sharp. I've got a little surprise for you."

His eyebrows did a little dance on his forehead. "You do. What is it?"

"If I told you, if wouldn't be a surprise."

Night had fallen.

The scent of flowers filled the room.

The record player was set up on the counter.

There was a chair waiting for him in the middle of the room.

The cherubs were peeing rivers of love into the fountain.

Everything was perfect.

When Pascal knocked on the door, I told him, "Come in."

He entered with a curious smile on his face, eyeing me standing there in a jacket with my hands behind my back. "What are you hiding?"

"These." I pulled out a dozen red roses.

"Are you going to tell me they're not for me, like you did last time?"

"No, these are definitely for you. I've got something else for you too."

"What's that?"

I stepped up to Pascal and grabbed him by the shirt. "I do believe we have some unfinished business."

I planted a long, hard kiss on him, then hauled him over to the chair and sat him down.

I pulled off the jacket to reveal nothing but a waistcoat underneath.

I flicked the needle onto the record and picked up the trilby hat that sat hiding behind a bucket of flowers.

Pascal laughed with joy.

I flipped the hat high into the air and it landed on my head…

Just as a blast of brass and drums filled the room and Joe Cocker's sexy, swoony, strip-fest of a song—You Can Leave Your Hat On—began to play.