Chapter 24: Amelie
Finally Bobby rumbled into the tiny parking lot of the Pereguin Post Office, exhausted. The Pereguin Café, sharing the same roof with the post office and grocery store, was located in back. When Shaun had first described the location of his new restaurant over the phone, Bobby had expressed concern. But at the opening-day festivities a little more than a year before, Bobby had seen why Shaun had snatched up the tiny, weathered-wood building. The back wall – what was now the restaurant’s wall of windows – stood twenty feet from a steep cliff that fell straight to the sea. The windows opened upon a cove of granite boulders jutting up out of the surf. Shaun’s restaurant was L-shaped. In the bottom leg a cluster of six tables looked out upon a small courtyard and the sea beyond, and also into the other leg, the kitchen, which was open and an integral part of the café’s ambience. In a fit of selfishness, Shaun also had put large-pained windows down the wall of the kitchen. The life-giving sea could provide the chef with the inspiration needed to make a superb dish, or so Shaun had written tongue-in-cheek in his cafe’s brochures.
Bobby parked his car in the gravel lot and trudged to the picket gate of the entrance. His nostrils were immediately overwhelmed by the honey-like scent of sweet alyssum growing around the gate. There was a serried bed of flowers in the garden that rounded the corner into the courtyard. Bobby thought that it must be the maritime climate that allowed them to bloom so late in the fall. He tiptoed on the stepping stones past the plantings of orange rudbeckia, deep purple asters, and brown and maroon chrysanthemums. The courtyard was even more spectacular than the entry way. Each grouping of flowers complemented its neighbors, and each was in full, wondrous bloom.
Bobby turned his head slightly and focused upon the lithe body of a woman wrapped in a shiny burgundy Danskin. The woman was on her knees and had a wooden-handled trowel in her hand. She was so busy turning a tiny patch of dirt that she had not heard his approach. Bobby hesitated to speak so that he could dwell on her image. Surrounded by bright cape daisies and calendula and lace-like cosmos was the most beautiful woman. Yet it was the scent of the flowers, each vying for notice in his mind, but all blending together as one into an incredibly unique perfume, that turned it into such a sensual moment.
The moment savored, Bobby resumed his approach. His model looked up in a startled state and then smiled as if she recognized him.
“Yes?”
“I’m Bobby Barnes – a friend of Shaun’s. You must be Amelie.”
“Yes. I’ve heard him talk of you. What brings you to the coast this morning?”
Her heavy French accent, the soft morning light, the garden and the pounding surf made Bobby hesitate momentarily. He felt as if he were in a dream – or a Truffaut film.
“Shaun called yesterday and said he’d like me to come out and visit. So I thought I’d drive out and spend the day with him.”
“Is Smash over?”
“Smash?”
“Your grape smash?”
“You mean Crush?”
“Yes. I’m – I’m sorry. Well you take Shaun and you two get away from here. Even on his day off he comes here and fiddle-faddles around. He needs a rest, too, Bobby.”
“I’m sure. How’s the café?”
“Very busy. But with the rains, it will begin to quiet down.”
Bobby knelt down beside Amelie in the hope that if he were closer to her he would feel some of the warmth she radiated. He looked into her garden.
“Amelie, this is breathtaking. Is it yours?”
“Yes. These are my babies.”
“They’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you, Bobby.”
“How do you find time to garden and bake and do everything else?”
“I arrive an hour early each morning. This soil is so rich and the weather is so perfect that I don’t garden. I simply conduct. Each plant knows how to play its own little instrument. Mostly all I do is take away the snails. They are so bad here – and big. Escargot! Do you know what I do with them?”
“What?”
“I gather up a handful at a time and I walk to the cliff and turn my back and throw them over my shoulder – into the sea. That way I don’t have to watch them die. I pretend they are lemmings.”
“That’s cruel.”
“But they ruin my garden!”
“I’m just joking with you, Amelie.”
“I still feel bad about doing that. I’ll eat snails, but I can’t crush them and watch them die. Strange, isn’t it?”
Bobby heard the high-strung whine of a Porsche pass by and the sliding crunch of gravel under the locked brakes of the car. He stood and looked down upon her.
“That must be Shaun,” he said, “I’m sure I’ll see you later.”
“That’s him. Nice meeting you, Bobby.”
He stepped through the garden and met Shaun at the fence. They embraced over the picket gate and spoke.
“Good to see you, Shaun.”
“Well, aren’t you looking good. You’ve lost weight, Bobby.”
“I’m running like a madman. I’ve got my first marathon in three months.
“Good for you. Come in and I’ll make us some coffee.”
They entered the tiny café and Shaun pointed to a table. Bobby sat down and looked around the room. It appeared so small even with the half-dozen tables empty. Bobby looked out the picture windows. He realized why Shaun had pointed at that particular table; it had the best view. And today that view was special because there was a beautiful woman in the midst of the sun-drenched garden curtained by a deep blue sea and sky. This has to be heaven, Bobby thought to himself.
“What kind?’
“What?”
“Au lait? Espresso? Cappuccino?”
“Cafe au lait.”
Bobby looked into the kitchen. On a stand next to the teakwood wine rack was an elaborate brass and copper Italian coffee machine that must have cost a fortune. His host brought over two cups and sat down.
“So how goes it, Shaun?”
“No complaints. We had an excellent summer. We were booked two weeks in advance in August and September. Excellent reviews in a couple of Bay-area magazines. I’m happy.”
“Good. Can you make it with just six tables? Can you turn them often enough?”
“Bobby, I thought you knew our concept. We have two seatings, six-thirty and nine.”
“I remember. I just wasn’t sure you were still doing that now that you’re so successful.”
“We have to because I only prepare two entrees per night. The patrons proceed as a whole through the meal. That way Amelie and I can prepare the food and serve them ourselves.”
“Still just you two?”
“Yes.”
“How is your partnership with her working out? She came here after the opening, after the last time I was in.”
“She’s wonderful. Excellent. She’s a jewel that I found and I covet. She’s also one of the best pastry chefs I’ve ever worked with.”
“How did you meet her?
“She walked into my café one day and talked to me.”
“Do you know much about her?”
“Some.”
“I noticed she answered the phone when I called back. You live together?”
“We share a house. I burned out on the commute from Guerneville about the same time she appeared, so we combined our resources and bought a place nearby. She’s the perfect homemate. What a joy to wake up to – I shouldn’t say that. Most of the time she’s left for here to start baking – and gardening — hours before I’m even up.
“Is she attached?”
“You mean, ‘Does she have a lover?’”
“Yes, that’s what I mean.”
“A boyfriend?”
“Yes, Shaun.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“A – a girlfriend?”
“No. I don’t think she likes men, Bobby, and she doesn’t like women, either. Look at her out there. She oozes sensuality from every pore, yet I’m afraid she’s . . . asexual.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Tell me.”
“I’m her confidant. She’s mine. We lean on each other a lot.”
“You can tell me.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be her confidant, I’d be her publicist.”
Bobby knew when not to press Shaun, so he dropped the line of questioning and silently gazed into the garden.
“So how’s life on the ranch?” Shaun asked.
“Busy. But now with Crush over I’m going to take it easy for a week. I’ve got a party in Timberrrville tomorrow night and lunch with Janie the next day.”
“That sounds fun. How is your mother?”
“She’s fine. Her bed-and-breakfast inn is doing a land-office business. It’s the showcase of Healdsburg. She’s really proud of it.”
“I’ve got to get over and see it.”
“Do so. She gives tours at ten, two and four.”
“Ha! Does she enjoy living in the city? If you can call Healdsburg that.”
“I think so. She’s closer to most of her friends. Her garden club holds their meetings at The Inn. Have I told you she made a youth hostel out of the small guest house in back of The Inn?”
“No.”
“She thought of the idea when she read an article about hostels in Burgundy. She rents out each of four rooms and a kitchenette for five dollars a night.”
“Is that safe? It seems like the price would attract some skuzzy types.”
“She requires them to have a passport and citizenship of a foreign country, and they have to call a day in advance to reserve a room.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. What a special person she is. And she’s so strong.”
“I think all the work she has put into that inn has been therapy. A way to get her mind off of the ranch and Jeremy. And it keeps her in contact with the human race. She’d have gone crazy if she had stayed out there.”
“Does she come visit you at the ranch? You’re living in their – what was their — house now, aren’t you?”
“I’m there. She took most of her antiques to use in the inn, so the place is empty. I have a maid stay over one day a week, but that’s all of us. The entire upstairs is closed off except for when I have guests. You know how big the place is – you were the one who named it ‘Mount Vernon.’”
“Tobie’s not living with you?”
“Tobie? You mean Tobie, my business partner? No. He took over Daniel’s place once I moved out. It’s like a commune up on the ridge. I call them the Gang of Four: Tobie, Susan, The Insect and Tobie’s three-legged dog. To answer your question about Janie: She comes out for coffee or to visit, but she never stays there.”
“I don’t blame her. I still can’t get over how strong she is. Bobby, this is the first time since Jeremy’s death that we’ve been alone together to talk – did they ever decide what happened? Was it an accident?”
“No, they decided it was negligence – at least the hospital’s lawyers did. You didn’t read about it in the papers? Janie’s lawyers settled out of court with the hospital for three million dollars.”
“My God!”
“The hospital should be relieved. A jury might have given her twice that after deliberating five minutes. You know that was the highest settlement ever awarded in this county in a malpractice case.”
“That’s an incredible amount of money.”
“Jeremy’s name was worth a lot to the ranch. His presence was worth even more. We had an excellent attorney from The City. He knew how to use California law. But all that money doesn’t bring Jeremy back.”
“What exactly did happen?”
“Bitter irony was what it was. Jeremy had been terrified all those years – since The Old Man had died – about his own heart. His attack and the bypass didn’t exactly allay his fears.”
“I would think not.”
“He had fallen off a tractor about six weeks before his death. Tore his ligaments and cartilage. He went into his operation thinking it would be a breeze – his knee is pretty far away from his heart. And the operation went well – until he needed a transfusion in post-op. The nurse must have been in another world, because the guy gave him the wrong type of blood. And fate was cruel enough to have Janie in the room during all of that. My mother hopelessly stood there as that errant pouch of blood entered Jeremy and poisoned him. By the time Jeremy began to scream in pain and Janie ran for the nurse, it was too late.”
“Poor Janie. Poor, poor Janie.”
“Can you imagine the guilt she’s put herself through? She watched that fluid trickle into his arm.”
Shaun stood up and paced over to the coffee machine to refill their cups. He was careful to keep his back to Bobby, who was intently watching a pelican lumber through a trough of a distant swell. Bobby rambled on.
“Shaun, I remember seeing an article in the paper on the day after he died. It was about a duck in LA that had its beak torn off by a coyote. A team of surgeons replaced the beak with an orange plastic prosthesis. The operation was filmed for showing on one of those awful Incredible People shows. We can do that, yet why couldn’t we give my father the right type of blood?”
“That’s a three-million dollar question, Bobby.”
The morose turn in their conversation was interrupted by Amelie, who had come in to find a sparkling water to quench her thirst. Bobby followed her movements through the room.
“So what are we going to do today, Shaun?” he asked.
“I thought the three of us would go up the coast a couple of miles and have lunch at a little spot I found. It’s on a creek that isn’t a stone’s throw from the surf. I know the sheep rancher who owns the land and I have the okay from him. Then we’ll drive back here and drop off Amelie, and you and I can go hiking up in Salmon Creek Reserve and catch the sunset. Did you bring your hiking boots?
“Got ‘em on. Can you believe it? We’re going to hike together for the first time since college.”
“But no Great Smoky Mountains this time.”
