Chapter Eleven

A quaint lunch on the patio felt as if they dined at a bistro in the heart of Paris. Julia prepared and served an escargot omelet and a salad with spring Russian vegetables sprinkled with violets, served on either Limoges or Sevres porcelain luncheon plates. In spite of her guesses, Mercedes didn’t lift her plate to look on the bottom to satisfy her curiosity, but she was tempted, and pursed her lips to keep from releasing a chuckle.

His mother confessed while spending many years in the Foreign Service and being spoiled with gourmet chefs at her beck and call, she spent time in the kitchens with the chefs. Plus, she attended a few seasons of cooking school along the way. Mercedes had a feeling Julia Child had nothing on this Julia.

Conversation remained light and she enjoyed Dante’s parents without feeling overwhelmed, except she thought if he expected the same type of menu when he came to dinner at her place, he’d be sorely disappointed. She thought maybe she might need to have Mario Batali’s restaurant cater her promised Italian dinner. She thanked God she lived in New York City with wonderful restaurants at her fingertips. Something, until lately, she hadn’t been able to afford.

When the car and driver arrived to take Dante’s parents to the airport, he brought out his luggage. “My tennis equipment and suitcase are going to be loaded on the plane. I need to take them with us back to the States when we leave,” he explained.

Mercedes decided that his room must have been crowded with all his equipment, which is why his mother didn’t open his bedroom door. She couldn’t believe how much luggage he had, which also explained the larger car and driver, and why they weren’t going to drive his parents to the airport.

After saying goodbye to them, they closed up the house and got in the car. Dante turned in the opposite direction from the airport.

“Where are we going?”

“I thought you might enjoy a day at the market, walk about town and do a little sightseeing and get another look at how I might spend my time, unless you’re tired and would rather go back to the house?”

“No, going to the market sounds like fun. I’m game,” she answered and figured shopping would be a safer recreation than being alone with him in the house.

When they pulled into a parking space at the market, she laughed. “I had no idea.” The streets were closed to traffic. Tables that were spread out on every inch of sidewalk and pavement loomed in front of them, bustling with shoppers.

“What do you think of the Brocante?” Dante asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“I pictured a little farmers market interspersed with a few merchants selling jewelry or something homemade, like jam.”

“You’ll most likely find those items here, too,” he told her, offering his hand to help her out of the car. “This is the flea market.”

The picturesque village was magical and abundant with fresh fruit and cheeses, flowers, seafood, clay figurines, and books, a large variety of locally grown olives, clothing, purses, and dishes. Everything!

She walked about with Dante, holding hands. The local folk, while acknowledging him, smiling and saying some words in French, left them alone to shop and browse the vendors’ tables at their leisure.

They stopped at a table filled with heirloom china. Mercedes looked at Dante and asked, “If I purchase a few things for my family, would you mind bringing them to Max to take to my parents?”

He nodded. “No, I don’t mind at all. Even if Max is out of town, I plan to go to his agency and meet the staff and I would also offer to take the gifts to your parents, in person if need be.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he answered.

After choosing porcelain asparagus serving plates for her mother and Faith, she bought a hat for her dad and Dante found a great hat for Max to wear to the summer tournaments to protect him from the sun. She spent twenty minutes choosing colorful, hand-painted tote bags while he patiently watched her every move, smiling.

“These will be wonderful to take to the beach or grocery store or the open-air market this summer, and thank you for not complaining while I shopped, Dante.”

“I brought you here, especially remembering how much fun we had in Scottsdale, running in and out of souvenir shops. I will at least know you enjoyed your short visit, which is what I had planned, except for tonight’s dinner which is the big surprise.”

“Now my curiosity is more aroused. You’re spoiling me.”

“That was the plan,” he said, placing his arm around her shoulder and giving her a hug. “But I’m disappointed you wouldn’t let me pay for your purchases.”

“Thank you again for offering, but then the gifts wouldn’t be from me. They’d be from you.”

“All right, I surrender.”

“See, that wasn’t too difficult!”

They were headed back to the car after touring some of the local stores, when she stopped again. “Wait!”

They were in front of a small shop that sold enamelware and Mercedes saw a large beautiful teapot with an upright handle and Paris street scenes painted around the sides.

“I want to buy this for your parents. Your mother said they drank a lot of tea, especially in the spring when the temperatures were cool, and this one would look beautiful in their kitchen. What do you think?”

“I think it’s perfect. My mother’s teapot is quite old. They will love this one.”

They entered the shop and Dante told the saleswoman, “We’d like two of the enamel teapots, please.”

Mercedes looked at him. “Two?”

“Yes. I want to buy one for your new home. I’ll give you the gift now and then I won’t have to carry this across the Atlantic to Florida and then back to New York when I come in September.”

They left the store laughing, carrying their packages and the teapots. “Thank you, Dante. I hope your parents like their teapot as much as I love mine. I will think of you and France every time I make tea or hot chocolate.”

“I’m happy you found them, otherwise I probably would have brought something stupid when I came, like long-stem red roses.”

“Roses aren’t stupid,” she said, putting her packages in the back seat of the car, laughing. “Even a vulgar display of roses wouldn’t be stupid.”

Dante opened the car door for her and she turned to him and said, “This is without a doubt the best date I have ever had and I don’t think I will ever enjoy a day like this again.”

He reached down and kissed her on the lips, very lightly. “We’ll see what we can do about that. Let’s go home and relax awhile because we still have the evening. Maybe I can top this trip to the flea market.”