Chapter 27
Brunch was at the café. "Well, my love, how is the search for your parents progressing?" Nana inquired warmly as they exchanged hugs from behind the counter.
"Not too good." Tiffany said blandly, surprised at her apparent lack of grief.
"Well, I was thinking, maybe you should move-"
"Is the food ready, Nana? I'm famished." Sébastien cut in, taking Tiffany by the elbow and leading her to the table by the window where they could see people and carriages hurry by. "What would you fancy doing today?" he whispered to Tiffany.
"You're the guide, Monsieur Leveré. You decide, though I shall blame you if I should be bored!"
He shook his head. "Mademoiselle, please enlighten me, how could you ever be bored? You're with me."
Dada took his place at the table, carrying a plate of buttery scones. "You should bring her to the Riviera one day, mon fils. Or Provence. Women go crazy there," he winked, "Your Nana will kill me for saying this, but I believe the trick to getting her to accept my proposal was whisking her away from Paris, from the city."
Sébastien traced his lower lip in thought. "Tell me, Mademoiselle, why is it you women have a special liking for all the odd little romances expected of us? It sure places great stress on our gender. Isn't it the same if you love the person anyway?"
Tiffany looked him in the eye and answered, "Yes, I agree wholeheartedly. It is just that those we lose our heart to are those who take joy in taking such great pains just for the chance that we might accept them."
"I'll have to think about that." He composed his words slowly.
"What would you have to think about, my love?" Nana placed a jug of cold fresh milk and a pan of scrambled eggs on the table, then took her seat beside her husband.
"About when would be the best time to bring Tiffany to Provence. Any suggestions, Nana? Just for a short break. Do you and Dada wish to join us?"
"Why ye-"
"I don't think that's such a great idea, mon fils. But thanks for asking, we have the café to take care of." Dada asserted.
"You two, like father, like son. Always interrupting me. Tell me, are you up to something?" Nana complained. Dada simply chewed contentedly on his scone and discreetly winked at the couple sitting across the table.