Freedom Fries and Cafe Creme (17 page)

Matt got in his 2CV and drove to the village. He felt like a knight ready to sally forth and win his lady. At Chez Bastien Paprika seemed pleased to see him and he was encouraged by her warm greeting.

‘
Ah, bonjour, Monsieur. Vous revoilà!
I remember you,' she said with a big smile. ‘You're the one who ate so much last week.'

He is quite attractive, she thought.

Matt reddened at the memory of all the food he'd eaten. Paprika, thinking that her remark might have embarrassed him, tried to make up for it.

‘It shows how much you appreciate my father's cooking. You seem to be a connoisseur of good food and wine. Where are you from?'

‘I'm American, from California.'

Paprika didn't appear impressed, unlike some European girls he'd met. She didn't say anything right away. She seemed to be momentarily lost in thought.

Actually, when she heard Matt was from California, she understood why he ate so much, since Americans tended to complain about how small the portions were in French restaurants. And her father was careful about not serving too much food, but just enough for French palates. That probably explained why this young man had ordered two of each course.

‘Would you like an aperitif?' she asked suddenly. ‘On
the house,' she added, smiling.

‘In that case, a Mauresque,
s'il vous plaît
!'

‘
Tout de suite
.'

But today, even if Matt wanted to eke out his lunch over several hours, he resolved to choose only one appetiser, one main course and one dessert from the menu, with one or two glasses of the wine he'd had last week from the Coteaux du Languedoc. He really had eaten too much last Sunday and he'd felt a bit sick afterwards.

He hoped that Paprika wouldn't leave before he'd finished his meal, as she had last week.

But by the time Matt was finally having coffee, she was still there, busy with the other tables.

He decided to offer her a drink. She accepted, asking the other waiter to cover for her for a few minutes. She sat down across from Matt so naturally, without any fuss, which really impressed him. ‘
Pas de chichi
,' Madame Cabanel would have said.

The beautiful waitress suggested that he taste the Muscat de Frontignan.

Matt loved this naturally sweet wine, with its rich gold colour, served chilled.

The two of them sat languorously under the shady trees that surrounded the restaurant tables, facing each other in perfect symmetry, chatting good-humouredly, she about her beloved village, he about California and America. They were both genuinely interested in each other's lives, especially Matt, who was enchanted by this gentle, civilised world and wanted to know more about Paprika and her life.

‘I heard your father call you Paprika. I've never heard a name like that before.'

‘Well, that's my name, all right, and there's a little story behind it. My mother is from Hungary. You may know that the best paprika comes from there. My father wanted to call me Patricia and my mother wanted to give me a Hungarian name. My grandmother said: “Call her Paprika, then.” Of course, the name was not accepted at the town hall. My real first name is Patricia, but everyone calls me Paprika. And I'm lucky that my hair is naturally auburn, just like the spice,' she added, laughing.

‘I like your name. It suits you,' Matt said. ‘Your mother's origins also explain the goulash
à la languedocienne
on the menu. I'll have to taste it next week.'

When Matt left, he was feeling especially happy because Paprika had asked him to come to the
fête du village
, which started the following Friday night.

He vowed to be there for sure.

While driving back to Montpellier in his 2CV, he began dreaming. How proud his family would be if he brought a gorgeous Frenchwoman like Paprika back home with him!

A few weeks passed and Matt had become a real
habitué
of Chez Bastien. More than that, he was dating the most beautiful girl in the village.

Daddy Bastien – which was what Matt called Paprika's father – had opened his kitchen to
‘l'Américaing
', as he called Matt. Matt was eager to learn how to combine the different magical ingredients used in this
cuisine du soleil
. It was all new to him, as he had been banned from the
kitchen at home where most of the time his mother would simply reheat takeaway food, and neither of his parents would allow their children to help at the sacred Sunday barbecue.

Matt had been introduced to Mara, Paprika's mother, whom he found very entertaining, with her flamboyant personality and the charm of her strong Hungarian accent. She made him feel better about his own French pronunciation. Mara didn't work at the restaurant but ran a small beauty salon in a town nearby, though she came to Chez Bastien once in a while, each time sporting a new hairstyle or colour.

Paprika also had a sister, who lived on a farm three miles from the village. She was happily married and had three fun children. She and her husband grew olive trees, produced their own olive oil, and made the most exquisite goat's cheese wrapped in olive leaves – the best Matt had ever tasted.

Matt hadn't known that family life could be as happy as Paprika's, where they all really loved and respected one another; apart, that is, from on American TV shows like
Little House on the Prairie
or
The Brady Bunch
, which his kid sister used to be addicted to.

Was it because of the calm, healthy environment the Bastiens lived in? They seemed to be so far away from the craziness of the wider world, where you needed to prove every day that you were better than everyone else.

These people were not wealthy in the American middle-class sense that Matt understood as well-off, but they seemed to live so peacefully, to appreciate what they
had, to spend time together, and they did so in harmony with the rhythm and ritual of the seasons. In their lives they knew what really mattered, Matt thought.

Matt's idyllic sojourn in the sun of Languedoc was due to end in a few weeks. Soon he'd have to go back home to his world, where a fast-paced, competitive working environment awaited him. This was what he knew best, and what motivated him. Neither he nor Paprika had ever talked about the day when Matt would have to return to California, as if, by not mentioning it, their time together might last for ever.

Eventually, though, Matt knew that he must speak to Paprika about leaving.

He took her to a nice restaurant in the town where Mara had her beauty salon.

They sat at a table and read the menu in silence, both wondering who would be the first to mention his departure.

‘Well, Paprika, I think we need to talk,' said Matt in a cheerful tone, because he had an idea that had occurred to him only the second time he'd seen her – that she could come with him. He had even spoken to his family about it. They couldn't wait to meet her – ‘She seems so wonderful!' – and they'd found her very attractive in the picture Matt had sent them. They'd never really liked Courtney-Ann anyhow. She talked too much.

Matt and his parents had everything settled: an ideal future. Paprika could live with them in Los Angeles, so long as Matt came home for good. She would be able to go back to France to visit her family whenever she wanted,
and her family would be able to come and visit them in California. Matt would be the happiest man in the world. He loved his dad's business and knew that one day he would become company president. Everything had been carefully planned.

Paprika guessed what Matt wanted to say. She was aware that he had to leave in two weeks, and this upset her because she loved him very much.

‘You know that I'm leaving in a couple of weeks?' said Matt.

‘Um … um …' Paprika answered evasively, her eyes on the menu.

‘Well, since I really want us to be together, I was wondering if you would like to come with me to California. The beaches near LA are spectacular! Everyone there will love you and my family will be thrilled to meet you.' He said all this quickly, but with a good deal of confidence.

‘Um … um …' repeated Paprika.

‘Do you understand me? I'm inviting you to come and share my life in California!'

‘Of course I understand you. But why don't
you
stay here? Why should I be the one to follow you?'

Matt had not expected this reaction at all. Paprika knew that he had to go back home and start working for a living. He couldn't disappoint his parents.

‘Don't you like it here?' she asked, her eyes sad.

‘Of course, I love it here. But we've both always known that I was only going to be here for a little while.'

‘I had hoped that you might want to stay.'

Matt didn't answer. He was somewhat stunned by the direction the conversation had taken.

‘Everything seems to be so calculated in your life,' said Paprika, still sad but very calm.

‘Come on, Paprika, you know that I've got a big career waiting for me over there.' Matt wanted to persuade her. ‘That's the deal I made with my parents that enabled me to come to Languedoc in the first place.'

‘Sure, I know. But what about my career?' she asked.

‘What career?'

As soon as these words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.

‘I know that I'm only a waitress …'

‘That's not what I meant. You're not only a great waitress, you make the place work. But you could get a job at any restaurant you wanted to in LA.'

‘And your wealthy friends would make fun of you because you were dating a waitress.'

Matt hadn't thought of this, and it was true that the way he'd presented Paprika to his parents might possibly have been a little exaggerated. They might well think that she was the manager of an exclusive luxury restaurant. That was pretty much what she was, of course, but on a far smaller scale than the ones his family were used to.

‘My father will help you get your own restaurant.'

‘Oh, right! Of course, here is a typical new chapter of the insatiable American dream! Matt, give me a break, will you?' She rolled her eyes.

‘You could call it Chez Bastien.'

‘Stop it!'

He was beginning to get desperate. ‘Actually, you won't even need to work.'

Matt didn't know what else he could say to persuade Paprika to come with him.

‘And of course, Matt, you don't know how to do anything besides manage your father's business.'

‘That's basically true,' admitted Matt. He'd worked there on and off since he was sixteen. His dad's company was his real world, the one he knew best.

‘What kind of work could I do here then?' he asked her.

‘Work with Daddy Bastien in the kitchen.'

He'd enjoy that, and he'd also fallen in love with Languedoc and Paprika's world, but he'd never even considered staying here. His father was counting on him to work for the company. Again, he tried to explain.

Her response came quickly.

‘My father is counting on me at Chez Bastien, and I'll take over later on when he retires. Pretty much like you and your dad's company.'

‘But I thought you loved me.'

‘I love you, yes, but I don't want to give up my life here. I live in a beautiful sunny country that I adore, I've a great family that I get along with, I enjoy good healthy food that is fresh and seasonal. I don't like to rush all the time like you crazy Americans, who just think about making money, and then more money, to add to your insipid, materialistic lifestyle!'

Matt was taken aback. Paprika had never spoken to him like that before, but he decided to have one last try.

‘But you won't have to rush in California, and it's a place that also has a lot to offer, you know. The food is good there as well, and there's plenty of sunshine. We
could have a big house with a swimming pool; you'll have your own car, anything you want.'

‘You just don't get it! What I want is here!' she said firmly. Then she continued in a milder tone, ‘Maybe I could have all that you want to give me, and thank you for offering it to me, but I'm not interested. What I want is here. What you want to give me is not for an unpretentious person like me who is content with the little things in life.'

‘You just need some time to think it over.'

‘Matt, actually, for the first time since I met you, I'm a little disappointed in you. You seem to have decided for the two of us. Listen, I'll never follow you, and I know you'll never stay here. I can picture your life over there, with your important business career – competing all the time in order to be the best and to make as much money as you can. What you call happiness in your world I call superficiality. You hardly take any holiday and you barely stop to eat properly or spend time with your family, who smile all the time but with whom you don't really communicate. You told me so yourself, didn't you?'

‘People seem to be in just as much of a rush in French cities.'

‘Maybe, but you will never take away their five weeks of holiday, or the ritual of enjoying good food and company. As for rushing all the time, you're right. I studied in Montpellier for a while but I couldn't stand it: too many people running around constantly, and so many cars! I'm not a city girl. The life I want is in my village, in the country. I rarely listen to the news and stay away from newspapers because I don't want my happiness spoilt by
the ugliness of a world I want to avoid as much as I can.'

Matt suddenly realised that he hadn't minded being cut off from the world since he'd met Paprika.

‘And as for my career – and since “career” is such an important word for people like you – I'm going to take over my father's restaurant, as I said earlier, and keep on living as long as I can in the peaceful atmosphere of this place. You know, some people would like my father to have a bigger restaurant, to expand his business, but what for? Why can't people appreciate what they have? Why do they always want more? Chez Bastien is special because its size allows it to be authentic. We want to serve the
terroir
of Languedoc to our customers. My father likes working in the kitchen and coming out to talk to his customers, as you know. Of course, that may not seem very ambitious to people like you, but ambition doesn't bring happiness most of the time. And money? We have enough money for what we want in life. Money can't give us time to share with family and friends.'