A.J. Simon gave his brother, Rick, an exasperated sideway glance while parking his eye-catching red Camaro in front of their mother's home.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, will you stop tugging at the collar? Now you have to straighten your tie again," said he shutting off the car engine.
"I just don't see why we have to dress up to have dinner with our own mother." Rick muttered.
"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times; she also invited her dear friend and her fiancé, so she wants us to look decent." A.J. cast his eyes on his brother's attire. "Or, at least presentable."
They got out of the Chevy and walked around another vehicle in the driveway: a brand-new Mercedes-Benz 300TD in its shiny glory.
A.J.'s admiring gaze lingered on the luxurious car; Rick kept muttering something under his breath while tightening his tie begrudgingly.
As the brothers knocked on the door, their mother, Cecilia, welcomed them inside with a glowing smile.
"Hello, boys. You look wonderful!" The last comment was mostly for her firstborn, who was in his Sunday best. She gently squeezed their hands and led them inside. "Dinner will be ready shortly, but first, I'd like you to meet the guests of honor."
The soon-to-be-married couple was seated on the sofa with their drinks in their hands.
"Lana, I'm not sure if you remember, but you've met my boys a few times before. This is Rick, my oldest. And this is A.J." Cecilia introduced her sons to the slender woman in her sixties. "Boys, this is Lana Young."
"Yes, yes, I do remember," said Lana to the brothers in delight, "It was over twenty years ago, and you were still young boys. I don't think you remember me though."
On the contrary, they did recall her name although they could not have recognized the old woman before them had their mother not mentioned her name.
When they had first met, Rick had been thirteen or fourteen, no longer a little kid, but she had treated him like one and bruised his teenage ego by patting his head and pecking on his cheek in front of his buddies and younger brother.
She had equally humiliated A.J. treating him like a baby in the big boys' presence by patting his head and behind, pinching and kissing on his cheeks repeatedly.
"It's so nice to see you again, Mrs. Young. I remember meeting you too; you haven't changed much, ma'am." A.J. smiled.
Rick stared at his brother in disbelief. There were flatteries, and then there were obvious lies. He simply mumbled "Hi" to her.
Cecilia proceeded to introduce the man seated by Lana Young. "And this is Alain Dupré. He and Lana announced their engagement just last week."
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Dupré, and congratulations on your engagement," said A.J. politely if somewhat reservedly.
Dupré, who seemed slightly younger than his betrothed, nodded his patrician head like a nobleman acknowledging a commoner genuflecting before him. "Thank you, and the pleasure's all mine." He was obviously a Frenchman attempting to speak British English, and he sounded as warm as a two-day-old stiff at the morgue.
"Nice to meet you, Allen," said Rick.
Dupré arched his elegant eyebrow. "It's ALAIN, my dear boy." He sternly corrected Rick's pronunciation.
The old man's condescending tone, coupled with the fact he had just maligned him by calling him his dear boy, rubbed Rick the wrong way, but all he said was, "Sorry."
Just then, the oven timer went off in the kitchen distracting everyone from the awkward moment.
Saved by the bell.
The same thought ran through the minds of the entire Simon family.
"Perfect timing!" Cecilia beamed. "I'll go bring the food out, so why don't you have a seat at the dining table? A.J., could you please give me a hand in the kitchen?" She placed her hand on A.J.'s arm.
Rick wished she had asked him to help her. It would be darn awkward, to say the least, to sit at the table with two strangers that he was not too familiar with.
"Oh, Lana, Alain. Shall I refresh your apréritifs?" asked Cecilia.
Lana declined her offer by merely shaking her head, but Dupré raised his wine glass.
"Yes, I'd like some more of this… Comment devrais-je le dire?" He paused trying to put his finger on the English word he was looking for. "Ah, amusing. Yes, this amusing California Sherry."
A.J. was offended by his snide remark. He was a California native and proud of the quality of wines the in-state vineyards produced. Furthermore, he had helped his mother pick this fortified wine for this particular occasion.
"Amusing? Don't you think it has an excellent bouquet?" He tried to keep his voice even.
"Mais oui, mon cher garçon. That, too."
Cecilia felt her son's arm muscle stiffen under her hand and hastily said, "I'm glad to hear you like it, Alain. And A.J., would you go get the bottle and pour some more for our guest please?"
So the dinner party, purported to celebrate a joyous, blessed event, got off to a rocky start. Rick had never cared for this kind of get-together that was normally reserved for introducing Cecilia's new boyfriend, but, on such occasions, he could at least talk about his mother with the guests. This time, however, he felt like an outsider while she and her friends were talking about things and events he had no knowledge of.
He observed that his brother was withdrawn as well. A.J. was usually more sociable and gregarious at a social gathering than he and often entertained everyone with his witty comments and anecdotes. Not tonight though—he was courteous and spoke when he was spoken to, like a polite child at the dinner table who was anxious to be excused to go back to his room as soon as the food on his plate was gone. He dutifully praised Cecilia's cooking, rack of lamb, although he did not seem to be enjoying the meal so much.
The whole dinner affair dragged on interminably, or so it seemed to Rick and A.J., but in reality, it was over in less than three hours. Watching their mother exchange the last good-byes with the old couple at the door, they felt drained.
When she returned to the living room where her sons were lounging, Cecilia was no longer smiling.
"Boys, I want to ask you some questions," said she. "And I want your honest answers."
Her dead serious countenance—the look they had always associated with a long-winded lecture in the old days—made Rick and A.J. a little unnerved, and they exchanged a quick glance.
"Sure, Mom." A.J. smiled tentatively.
"We're not in trouble or anything, are we?" asked Rick just to be sure while undoing his tie. If he was in for a long sermon, he might as well get comfortable.
"Of course not." She cracked a smile albeit briefly. "Why do you think that you're in trouble, honey?"
"Force of habit," said A.J. "On his part anyway."
"Yeah, like your disrespect for your older brother. Know what else comes natural to me?" Rick glared at A.J. showing him his clenched fist.
"Rick, A.J., please. I'm serious." Cecilia pleaded. "I'm actually asking you a favor; I'd like your honest opinions on Alain."
One look at her face was enough to convince her sons that she was upset. A.J. was more attuned to her moods than his brother simply because, during his teenage years, his then-young, widowed mother had been his only family for two long years after Rick had been shipped to Vietnam.
"Is that why you invited us for dinner? Because you wanted us to meet him?" asked A.J.
After the slightest hesitation, she answered, "Yes."
"Why didn't you tell us that before? I woulda paid much more attention if you had," Rick said with a puzzled expression.
"Because I'd like to hear your unbiased opinions." Seeing a certain look cross her sons' faces, she continued, "I know you and Alain didn't hit it off, but I'd like you to set your personal feelings aside and be more objective."
"Sure, Mom." A.J. smiled at her assuredly. "But perhaps it's easier and more efficient if you pick the questions you'd like us to answer."
Cecilia bit her lower lip lightly, thinking. "Did it show that they deeply care for each other? Do you think Lana and Alain are really in love?"
"Lana is, for sure," Rick immediately answered. "She's all giggly and starry-eyed like a young girl with a crush on a boy in Math class. I mean, she's older than you, but she's behaving like a goofball fawning over Allen."
He took great pleasure in mispronouncing the Frenchman's name on purpose.
"Yup, just like you were when you fell hard for that exchange student, Ingeborg… What was her last name?"
"A.J.!" Cecilia called her youngest down for being fresh for no reason.
"Sorry."
Rick glowered at his brother's smiling face that looked anything but apologetic.
"What about Alain? Did he appear to be in love with Lana?"
Still scowling, Rick said, "Hard to tell. He always has a right thing to say, but how sincere he is, I don't know."
A.J. nodded in agreement. "He definitely has the old country charm that many American ladies find hard to resist, and it's not just his accent and mannerism. He has polished, elegant manners and is so attentive he can make a woman believe he only has eyes for her. I'm pretty sure he can turn up his sex appeal at the drop of a hat to seduce any woman of a certain age if he sets his mind to it."
"So, you think Lana's marrying a wrong guy? Is that what you're afraid of?" asked Rick.
Cecilia looked miserable and sighed heavily. "It's just that she doesn't know him all that well. All he told her is that he's a descendant of a Russian noble family exiled in Paris."
"Dupré doesn't sound too Russian," commented Rick.
"A number of Russian aristocrats fled the country before, during and after the fall of the Romanov Dynasty and sought refuge in various countries around the world—Europe, America, Asia—and often married into the local families, especially young, nubile women and girls." A.J. cited one of the possible explanations.
"But he doesn't have any proof of that, does he?" Rick asked his mother.
"None whatsoever," said she shaking her head. "Oh, she says she's met a couple of his friends who call him 'Your Highness,' but he hasn't shown her anything that indicates the noble heritage he claims he has."
"How long has she known him?" asked A.J.
"Only for two, three months. The ink on the death certificate for Ethan, her late husband, was barely dry when they first met."
"I assume she's well-to-do. I couldn't help noticing her brand-new Mercedes-Benz when we got here."
"She was born into a wealthy family and married to a very successful business man, but the car isn't hers."
"Oh, it's Alain's then?"
"Yes, she bought it for him—among other things."
That piece of information was surprising and disconcerting as well. Rick and A.J. now fully understood why their mother was so concerned about her friend.
"You think he's marrying for money," stated Rick. It was not a question.
"I don't know, honey. And that's what's killing me—not knowing." Cecilia was the picture of misery. "They may really love each other, but Lana's been showering Alain with gifts, very expensive gifts. The bulk of her asset is tied up in stocks, bonds and real estate, but she still has a large sum of money in the bank that she received from the insurance company after Ethan's passing. I know it's not my place to tell her how to spend her fortune, and I don't want to jeopardize our friendship by being a busybody."
"If they get married, he'll get more direct access to her wealth," said Rick.
"And if, God forbid, anything should happen to her after they're married, he'd be able to liquidate some or most of her asset that he can't touch while she's still alive," said A.J.
The doubt that Cecilia had been trying to push back was finally out in the open, and it frightened her.
"Oh, Mom. Come here." Sensing her fear, A.J. embraced and rocked her gently. "You know Rick and I can put your mind at ease."
"But, honey…"
"No, no buts." Rick cut her off. "We're between cases. If we weren't, we'd still be happy to prove Dupré's a phony."
His unshakable conviction made her smile in spite of the emotional upheaval.
"Now, Rick, I know you're not a big fan of Alain's, but I don't want you to become the proverbial judge and jury."
"Don't worry, Mom, I won't let him," said A.J. with a grin.
"I'll pay you the usual fees and…"
"No, Mom. This one's on the house." Rick declared. "Like I said, we have some free time. This is no different than other chores we do for you like painting the house, mowing the lawn…"
"Thank you, sweetheart," said Cecilia choking up. She hugged her two sons tightly.
When she finally released them from the embrace, Rick looked her in the eye and said, "Okay, now let's get down to business. Tell us all you know about Lana and Dupré."
