French Chemistry

by Sarah Kinsey

  “I could teach you, you know,” Marie continued. “You don’t have to wait until I can braid your hair to have such cool styles.” Though Bessie could not see it, she knew her sister was smiling. Bessie knew that Marie always liked to be told she did hair well. If she wasn’t a model, Bessie would have sworn that Marie would have gone into cosmetology classes and become a hair stylist to the models.

  “I’d like that, Marie, but I don’t think we’ll have time tonight,” Bessie said with a laugh. “He’ll be here in half an hour to pick me up.”

  “Half an hour, huh?” Marie looked at her watch. “Look at that. It’s six thirty. Wow.” She sighed. “Where has the time gone?”

  “We were with our mother all day, and when you’re with someone you love, the time goes by too quickly,” Bessie remarked.

  Marie nodded in agreement.

  Bessie sat quietly while Marie did her hair. She was too preoccupied with thoughts of how the date would go to really care about what else she could do. It could be a total disaster, a complete success, or somewhere in between. However it went, Bessie hoped it went well.

  She liked Marc. It scared her to admit it, but she thought it could have potential. More so than any other relationship she had had on campus, and she was only a junior now. There was still time for so much to go so right or so wrong in her life...

  “Bessie, you have that look again... what’s got your mind going so quickly?” Marie’s words startled Bessie and she jumped a little. “Sorry. You were so lost in thought you didn’t hear me, did you?” Marie looked at her with a half-expectant look.

  “I heard you. I just wasn’t expecting you to break my concentration so badly,” she admitted. “I’m thinking about how this is going to go. Is it normal to be nervous?” She pursed her lips, pressing her hands together in her lap. “I haven’t felt like this around any other man I’ve dated before, Marie. Is it normal?”

  “I think so,” Marie said. “You were telling me the other day about how much you wanted his number. Now you have it, now you’re nervous, and I think that’s normal. You like him.” She shrugged. “Whether it goes anywhere or not is yet to be seen, but remember this, Bessie: even if he can’t see what makes you special, there will come a point where someone will see it. You just have to be patient.”

  “Thanks for that, Marie,” Bessie said.

  It didn’t help much, but her stomach was a little calmer now that Marie had given her something else to think about. The last of the time passed easily enough, and soon, Marc had shown up to pick her up. She didn’t even remember texting him where to go to pick her up, but he had texted her that he was there and ready when she was.

  “Hello,” Marc greeted her. “How has your day been?”

  She wondered if he was as nervous as she was, and she wondered if the somewhat scripted conversation that followed was because of that. She answered that it had been fine. He told her about his day, and they were on the road to his place soon enough. On the way, he asked how long she had been cooking, why she was majoring in chemistry... that kind of thing.

  She answered as honestly as she could, and by the time he parked the car, she was worried that he was not feeling the same click she had. He was rather quiet for much of the ride, allowing her to decide how long the conversation went and what topics they discussed. She would have loved to see him take control of the conversation for a little bit, but perhaps he was too nervous to.

  Regardless, they went into the little home, and she found that it was quaint. There was a nice open floor plan, the living room and kitchen merging with the dining room. A couch and a loveseat sat in the living room, both facing a television. The kitchen looked as if it had been redone recently.

  “Do you live here alone, Marc?” Bessie looked around. It was rather small for the area, she thought, but considering its location, it was great.

  “Yes, I do. I have two bedrooms, though, and it’s a little odd to have another bedroom,” he replied. “I think I will turn it into a study. Then, I have a place I can do my homework without worrying about staying up too late and falling asleep reading in bed.” He laughed a little.

  She smiled. This was more like what she wanted. “That’s good to hear,” she said. “How has your summer been so far?”

  “It has been good.” He started to pull things out of the cupboards as he got ready to help her make macarons. “Come over here; I have an apron for you.” He threw her a black wad of fabric.

  She put the apron on, and then, the cooking began. It was slow going at first since it had been a while since she made any kind of dessert, but eventually, she got the hang of it. Marc was patient with her, and he helped her understand why it wasn’t working when it wouldn’t work for her. Part of it was her technique, which was understandable. She had not grown up making French pastries. Part of it was also just that she had never been able to learn properly when it came to macarons.

  They soon had the macarons in the oven, and she took the apron off. “Wow. That was not as hard as the recipes online make it out to be,” she said as she hung the apron up where Marc indicated it belonged. “And they smell delicious. Shouldn’t we make the filling?”

  “We can use this,” Marc said as he pulled a container out of the fridge. “I made some filling last night because I forgot it takes much longer to make than the cakes.” He laughed a little. “I hope you do not mind?”

  “Not at all,” Bessie said. “But one of these days, you’ll have to teach me how to make the filling, too.”

  “Oh, the filling is not as hard as the cookies.” He set the container on the counter. “You could even use store-bought frosting if you didn’t have time to make any kind of filling.” He shrugged. “It’s not my favorite way to do it, but to make French filling, you need to have a lot of equipment, and I do not have one crucial piece: a food processor that can handle such thick food.”

  She looked at the food processor they had used.

  He was right. It was not built to handle a lot all at once, and they had had to make a small batch of cookies to compensate for the equipment.

  “If you wanted to, you could open a macaron shop here,” Bessie mused. “People would love to see French food. It’s something of a phenomenon, French food, here in America. Could be our heritage and the fact that we see ourselves as a melting pot of other cultures.”

  “I would love to visit Louisiana some time,” he countered. “That is the real hub of French cuisine and food here in the United States. A lot of French settled there.”

  “This is true,” Bessie said. “It’s hard to find good French food outside of France, but in the US, it’s hard to do so outside of Louisiana. Though, I have heard there’s a restaurant here in Charleston that makes some good beignets.”

  “We must visit this place,” he mused. “What is the name of the restaurant?”

  She told him, and they looked it up while they waited for the macarons to finish in the oven. It seemed they would need reservations for anything but breakfast.

  “I will make reservations for Friday night, and we can go together,” Marc said. “My treat.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to, Marc. I’m more than willing to help with the cost,” Bessie said, flustered. She had never had a man offer to pay for her meal before.

  “My treat, Bessie. You are a lovely lady, and I would like this to be our second date,” Marc said. “So, allow me to pay for it, as that is what a gentleman ought to do.”

  A gentleman? He had pulled a card she had never thought a man would pull.

  “All right, but you must allow me to pick up the tab the next time we go out to eat,” Bessie countered.

  He laughed with a nod. It seemed he had expected nothing less, and for that, she was glad. The timer on the oven dinged at them, and they pulled the cookies out of the oven. Bessie was overtaken by the wonderful aroma that then filled the house. Marc showed her how to pipe the frosting onto the cookies properly, though it wasn’t much different than piping frosting onto
a cake to decorate it.

  Once they were done filling the macarons, she took one off the tray and ate it. It was delicious. Much better than any of the online recipes she had tried.

  “This recipe is delicious, Marc,” she said. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

  “Thank you for asking me out,” he countered. “I have not ever had a chance to share my heritage with an American girl before, and I appreciate the chance to share the cuisine of my home with you.” He smiled widely, and then he had one of the macarons as well.

  He took her back to the hotel, and when she entered the room, Marie was still awake. She had not been gone too long, and was surprised it had not even felt like it had been two hours – but it had been exactly two hours.

  “So? How was it?” Marie looked at her expectantly. Bessie told her sister everything, including that they already had a second date planned.

  “Wonderful!”

  Chapter 7

  The week flew by. Marc treated her to dinner at the restaurant, and he was sincerely impressed by the beignets at the restaurant. They were almost as good as the ones he had had in France, but the French ones still beat them out. It was a good imitation, though; he would admit that much. In fact, he was so impressed with her knowledge of the city that he asked her to show him around. She then had to admit that she had never been to Charleston before; she had done a lot of research in preparation for this trip.

  Bessie never knew how good it felt to be interested in someone who was interested in her. Not like this. He didn’t look as though he was in the dating game to find someone to get free meals from. He seemed to be genuinely interested in getting to know her. And it showed, because not long after the dinner, he asked her out.

  Bessie’s original plans for the summer were horrible compared to the summer that unfolded in front of her. While her mother still struggled with her cancer – and it seemed she was staying in the hospital instead of coming back to the hotel for the rest of the trip – Bessie felt guilty about enjoying her time with Marc. Her mother told her not to worry; even if she didn’t recover easily, it was no excuse to put a social life on hold.

  So, the summer became a balancing act. Bessie would spend the nights with Marc, and she spent her days with her family. If Marc was not available one evening, she would make plans with him when he was available, with her family understanding that because he had not been available when he normally was, she was going to be with him.

  Marie took every opportunity to give Bessie advice on how to dress for the dates. In fact, she insisted Bessie go shopping while they were in Charleston. She had not brought a single “fancy” date outfit, and Bessie had been fine with this. She had made no secret of the fact that she didn’t have anything that Marie would think passed for a fancier date night outfit, anyway.

  “Why do I need a fancy outfit, Marie?” Bessie frowned as Marie literally dragged her to the car to go shopping. “I won’t have the room to take it home. A fancy outfit for you includes shoes, accessories... I barely have room for the souvenirs I’ve bought!”

  “Dad is going to stay here if Mom does, and I know he hasn’t filled his carry-on suitcase as he had planned to. If we all go home, Mom’s new medications and travel papers will go in there. If not, I’m sure he would not mind if you borrowed it.” Marie smiled at Bessie. “Besides, it’s about time you got some new clothes in your wardrobe. You’ve been wearing the same clothes since freshman year of college!”

  Bessie looked down at her outfit. Sure, it was leftover from her time at home, but she had not completely outgrown everything from her freshman year. It made sense to her to keep the clothing that was still good. That still fit.

  “Marie, please,” Bessie pleaded. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out and spend money on a new outfit when Mom is in the hospital and Dad may need help with the bills.”

  “I talked to them before I dragged you out here.” Marie opened the door to the car. “Get in. We’re going shopping, and I’m not taking no for an answer. Mom and Dad are excited for you, Bessie. You’re seriously interested in a man, and they want you to do your best in this relationship. When I told them you were going to dinner in your shorts and tanks, they wanted to get you something new, but knew that Mom would not be up for it.”

  Bessie sighed. “Fine.” She got into the car. “But we’re going to keep it as inexpensive as possible.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Mom and Dad aren’t paying for the outfit, Bessie. I am.” Marie got into the driver’s seat. “Dad was just as worried about the bills as you are, and I have the money to spare to help you out. You’re getting a new date outfit. And if it won’t fit in your bag to get it home, I will find a way to get it out there for you.”

  “You do realize that if the relationship with Marc continues the way it has, I won’t need it, right?” Bessie pursed her lips as the car shuddered to life beneath them. “He’s not coming back to Utah. He’s staying here.”

  “You can wear it on your virtual dates.” Marie would hear nothing more in the way of arguments.

  So, Bessie decided to stay quiet.

  The summer was half-over, and it had been a whirlwind. The doctors were not about to let her mother out of the hospital, and her father spent as much time with her as he could. Her mother had had to tell him, more than once, to go enjoy the beach. That was the entire reason they were in Myrtle Beach to begin with!

  Marc and Bessie had been making the two-hour trip between Myrtle Beach and Charleston as often as they could. They normally met somewhere in the middle, but that was all that mattered to Bessie; she was able to enjoy time with her man. They had not yet officially become boyfriend and girlfriend, but she had a feeling that it was soon to happen.

  As they were driving, Marie’s phone rang. Bessie picked up. “Hello?” Marie had a habit of not putting numbers into her contacts, instead preferring to memorize the number.

  “Bessie!” Her father’s voice came through the phone. “Thank goodness someone picked up. I thought you had your phone on you.”

  “I think it’s on silent, Dad. I’m sorry. What’s going on?” She could tell that her father sounded worried. She put the phone on speaker when Marie gave her a worried glance from the driver’s seat.

  “Your mother needs to be put in a better hospital. They’re moving her to Charleston today,” her father said. “I know this is very sudden, but she’s not doing well. I’m going to check out of my room and stay in Charleston.”

  “Dad, I have a friend in Charleston. Before you check out, let me see if I could stay with my friend and be there for Mom.” Bessie said it before she could stop herself.

  Marie gave her a scandalized glance, but there was a glittering of teasing in her eyes.

  “All right,” her father said after a few moments. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. It beats driving to Charleston to see him,” Bessie replied. Then her cheeks went red.

  “I didn’t know Marc was in Charleston,” her father teased. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t if you stay there, all right?”

  “I promise, Dad.” Bessie shook her head as she spoke. This was not exactly how she had imagined this conversation would go, but she knew that someone needed to be in Charleston for her mother.

  “All right. Tell Marie to drive safely and keep her updated,” her father said.

  “I hear you, I hear you, Dad,” Marie spoke up. “Thank you.”

  “Of course. Love you both.” Her father blew a kiss over the phone and then hung up.

  Bessie sat back in the seat, confounded. How could her mother be doing so horribly? Only yesterday, they had thought that perhaps they would be able to send her to the hotel and maybe back to Utah before the end of the summer. Maybe. If she was being transferred to another hospital, then her cancer was only getting more aggressive.

  “Why don’t you call Marc and see if you can stay? I’m sure once he hears what’s going on, he’d be willing to help out,” Marie said after a few moments
. “I know it hurts, but... but Mother would not want to see you throw everything away now.”

  Bessie only nodded. She pulled her phone out and noticed that she did indeed have a missed call from her father. She ignored the notification and called Marc. The phone rang once... twice... thrice...

  “Hello!” Marc’s voice greeted her with a force. It was cheery, upbeat. “I didn’t think you would be calling so early.”

  “It’s not a social call, Marc, as sad as I’m to say it,” Bessie replied. “My mother is being transferred to a hospital in Charleston, and... and I was wondering if I could stay with you so that someone is there for my mother.”

  “Why is she coming to a hospital in Charleston?” She could almost hear the way his eyebrows had furrowed in the middle of his forehead, his eyes narrowing as he tried to see the logic.

  “She has cancer. It returned vigorously at the beginning of our vacation, and now...” Bessie’s voice caught. She had to gulp hard to keep the lump in the back of her throat from rearing its ugly head. “Now she’s too sick to be treated at the hospital in Myrtle Beach.”

  “Of course you may stay with me,” Marc said softly. “I do not know how it will work, since I do not have a guest mattress, or even a guest bed, but we will make it work.”

  “Thank you, Marc,” Bessie sniffled. She was not sure why she was suddenly so worked up; perhaps it was the prospect of having to ask for help from outside the family that had made her so upset. “They’re transferring her today, so maybe when you come to pick me up...”

  “Of course, of course,” he said. “Don’t give it a second thought. I’ll do what I can to find blankets and pillows for you in the meantime. Umm...”

  “What is it, Marc?”

  “I know this is a bad time, but considering what you have just said, I don’t think I can wait to ask you any longer. Would you like to go steady with me?” Marc’s voice had a bit of hope, but she knew he could tell this was certainly not the best time to ask. “Even if it’s only for the emotional support you need right now.”