Just a note to advise that there will be no update next week to allow me to catch up on chapters.

A Family Reunion Part III.

No more was said on the subject of the bakery business that night, as time was getting late. Fritz had arranged a car to take them back to the hotel, but he didn't seem to be aware of what was really going on, or if he was, he hid it well. All he said as he showed them out was that his great-grandmother had asked him to give them a tour of the original shop in the morning. She would have it cleared for them to have full access, and he was to show them everything on the premises.

Nick and Grace had agreed that it was best not to mention anything to Jeff either, at least until they had seen the premises properly. "I am not able to make a decision one way or the other until I see what is there in detail," admitted Grace. "Yes, from the outside it looks like an architectural gem, but who knows what might be lurking behind that façade? Then, even if it is as spectacular inside as out, I will want to see what the intentions of the developer are for the place before I can judge properly. Some developments can be sympathetic, and there might be a way that the shop can stay, and just the disused bakery would be redeveloped…"

"I agree," Nick replied. "It is also good to know that our suspicions that there might be an ulterior motive in our being here were correct, although it is for a good reason. I do think that they do want to get to know us as well. It is good to know a little more of our ancestry, how we descended from a man that could not abide intolerance…"

"Daddy dearest obviously being a throwback to the other side of the lineage. In their defence, however, we can say that at the time, they would have had very little say in the matter; you either did what the regime said, and backed it, or you faced the most dire of consequences."

"I am actually looking forward to seeing the shop properly, although I do wonder how we will prevent Jeff from wanting to eat every cake in sight - and Wes for that matter. I think that Fritz has been asked to take us on to the current bakery afterwards, and that might be even worse. On a plus, I might be able to pick up some tips there…"

"Does that mean that my little brother will be producing some German inspired treats for us all once he gets back home?"

"Yes. I might never be able to reach the heights of Konditor Meister, but to be able to emulate some of those delicate creations would be a start…"

It would be a little after 10am the following day that the little group from New York would find themselves outside the Duval bakery in the square once more. It was, of course, the first time that Jeff had been there, and his eyes widened as he saw the window display, which was even more luxurious that it had appeared the previous day. Nick was relieved that he had broken his own rule of yesterday and allowed both his husband and son to help themselves to as much cake as they wished at breakfast, as he quickly realised that had his husband's sweet tooth not been satisfied by all of that, he would probably be drooling. Still, he could see that keeping him in check was going to be an uphill struggle…

"So is this a part of your family's business?" Jeff asked. "Seeing it does kind of explain where you talents in the kitchen come from; deep rooted in your genetic make up. Able to emerge in you, because of your character and nature, but very deep hidden in your father…"

"Personally, I would go for skipped an entire generation in his case," muttered Grace. "As for me, I must confess than other than lessons at school, I have never tried to bake. I have always been too busy, and now I have the talents of Nils and my darling brother to rely on. Maybe one of these days I will need to try my hand…"

Before Nick could respond with a quip about making sure she alerted the Fire Department when she did, recalling his grandmother mentioning that she had nearly set her school on fire, Fritz suddenly appeared, and with him on this occasion was a young man that they all instantly realised was Matthias. Grace watched as he was introduced to the others, saying nothing about how much he resembled her own brother-in-law…

"I hope that you haven't been waiting here for us for too long; we got held up on our way into town," Fritz said apologetically. "Everyone is expecting you, and I hope that it will turn out to be as you have anticipated." With that, he guided them towards the glazed wooden double doors that provided the entrance to the shop, replete with elaborate, art nouveau, brass handles….

Inside, the four visitors stopped, and both Fritz and Matthias chuckled. Inside the bakery, it was like stepping back a century or more in time. The floor was wooden parquet, polished and worn by generations of feet. The walls were tiled with glazed ceramic subway style tiles, decorated with art nouveau motifs, and illustrations of baked goods. The shop counters were of a dark wood, with glazed fronts and tops to best show off the delicacies stored within; the exception was at the serving points, where the glass top was replaced by marble, cool to the touch at all times. Behind the counter were shelves constructed of the same wood, edged with intricate fretwork, holding loaves of bread swathed in tissue paper, and copper baskets filled with bread rolls. It was all illuminated by suspended lights hanging from an ornamental plaster ceiling, opalescent glass bowl shades hanging from fine brass chains. Even the cash register was a relic from the past, with a bell that chimed as a sale was rung up, and a rattle that gave a sense of old fashioned service at its very best…

"I know," said Fritz. "It is like a museum in here, one of those that purports to show us how we used to live. However, between us, it is not all quite as antique as it seems. The counters are shells of the original, with modern refrigeration units fitted inside to keep everything as fresh as people now expect, and to prevent the icing melting in the heat of midsummer. Inside the light globes above us are energy efficient, LED light bulbs. And although the register is still there, the actual sale is now made on a modern EPOS system that is built in below it, under the counter…"

"But the till still rings and rattles with each sale," queried Grace, as another sale was made.

"That is a recording," whispered Fritz with a wink. "That was my older brother's idea. We have retained the ambience that people love, but we are very much part of the 21st century…"

Nick laughed, thinking how brilliant it all was. He could see now why Fritz's great-grandmother had been so keen to get him here. To destroy this place would be to destroy part of the town's history; it would be like knocking down the Eiffel Tower and replacing it with a scaled down version of the Burj Khalifa, just because it would look more modern. He recalled then how the city he lived in had been so keen to demolish its own history sixty years before. They had lost the original Penn Station, and the world renowned Grand Central Terminal had been under threat of following it to the wreckers ball.

Times had been changing, and the latter had been saved, partly by the campaign against demolition enjoying the support of the widow of the current President's great-uncle… He had not seen the plans for the redevelopment, but he was certain of one thing; if the bakery was to close as part of it, then all of this would go, and in his eyes, that would be an act of sacrilege; cultural vandalism at its worst. He turned to his sister, and he was relieved to see the same expression in her eyes…

Then Fritz was leading them on, past all of the counters and then through a doorway at the far end of the shop; it was set inside an archway, much of which had been infilled by wall in more recent times; the tiles, although similar, were less elaborate. Passing through the door, they found themselves in what had once been the bakehouse itself. The walls were tiled here too, but the tiles in question were not glazed. The floor was polished stone, far more practical for the needs of the business. The old ovens were still set in the wall, with great iron doors held on with polished brass hinges. In the centre of the room was a great table, but it seemed almost out of place; a more recent addition.

At the far end of the room there was another archway, open this time, and through it Nick could see that there was another room, bigger than the one they were in, decorated in a similar fashion. Both of the spaces were twice the size of the shop itself, but they were as spotless as the premises that the public saw. Nick immediately wondered if the rooms they were in could not be used as a coffee shop or restaurant, an adjunct to the bakery in which they could serve the delicious looking cakes they already made, in the historic surroundings of the place they had once been made…

"I can't believe that anyone would seriously want to see this place destroyed," admitted Grace, voicing what her brother was thinking. "This is a living part of the heritage of this city. I would guess that pretty much everything in here is original; the shop fittings would date back to the time that it was opened?"

Fritz nodded, and said, "Some of the fittings in here predate the ones in the shop itself; it was refitted in the early 1920s, but with the financial issues at that time, there was such a limitation on money that the idea of updating those areas 'behind the scenes' so to speak was not even contemplated. It was still functional, and that was all that mattered. A few updates were made in here in the 1960s, but in practice, the business carried on using the original ovens in here until about a decade ago, when the decision was taken to centralise all baking in one location in a new building outside of town, rather than doing it on three sites as we had done. It allowed for efficiencies, and allowed the business to expand, but that in part created the current issue. Then the decision was taken to open a new shop not far from here, a much more modern place, and that took some of the business from here. This is an old building, and it is in need of repair; when the offer for the site was made, it seemed like an answer, at least at first. It was only when we studied the small print that we saw the truth; there was no place for us in the new development as it had originally been intimated verbally to the other side of the family. The façade of the building on the square is retained, to appease the planners that do not wish to see the townscape ruined, but everything behind it goes, and even the current shop front would be replaced. My side of the family is totally against it; the others, those that do not work here but are merely silent partners, they are all for it, sensing easy money."

"They will not be happy when they find out we are here then, and even less so when they find out that we are backing you," said Nick, as Grace nodded in approval. Fritz smiled broadly then, and rushed to hug them both, and then, seeing that Jeff looked a little put out, hugged him too.

They had lunch, and then the afternoon turned busy and serious. With Nick and Grace on side, the family lawyers were called, and finally informed that they had been traced, and thus there was a major change in the circumstances of the partnership. They naturally needed proof of the claim, and fortunately both Nick and Grace had had the presence of mind to bring with them the relevant documents; they had Fritz's work on the family lineage as well, plus proof that both their father and indeed his had been only children. That was vital, as it would stop anyone claiming that there could be others entitled to a part share of the firm, and that they might side with the other half of the family instead.

As they waited, Nick tentatively mentioned his idea for a café, and Fritz in turn repeated it to his brother, who had looked at him, and then laughed. Nick was upset for a second until Fritz's brother said that he was upset that they had not thought of that idea themselves, as it made perfect sense. On hearing his husband's idea, Jeff got out his sketch pad, and began to come up with a possible decorative scheme for the project, based on what was in the shop itself. He sketched ideas for the furnishings and lighting that would mirror what was original and give the impression that it all dated to the same age.

As for Wes, he was quite content to sit on a chair behind the counter in the shop itself and observe all of the comings and goings. He was the one that would remark to Grace that the majority of those that were served were older, and she immediately realised that the key to the success of any café here would be nostalgia. It should also become the primary selling point of the entire premises, with the possibility of seeking out the kind of cakes that had sold well back half a century or more ago, and returning them to the range…

The lawyers had of course informed the other side of the family, and the first of the family of the other two sisters would arrive in the middle of the afternoon, their lawyer in tow; they began to shout the odds and demand proof, although the oldest among them, the son of one of original sisters, had looked at Nick and Grace, and had nodded, needing no more proof than faces. His daughter was the exact opposite, putting up every possible reason to dispute the evidence, and from the way she glared at Fritz, it was clear that she disapproved of him and his lifestyle too. Seeing that, Jeff might have made a point of being extra affectionate towards his husband, and on witnessing it, Matthias did the same with Fritz, just to rile her up even more. That, combined with the fact that Nick and Grace both spoke fluent German and could understand her every word, made the moment that her lawyer informed her that there claim was substantiated even worse…

She stormed out, and Fritz followed discreetly, so that he could hear her screaming down the phone at one of the children of the other original sister, and came back in with a smile after a few minutes. "To be blunt, she knows that there little scheme is now scuppered, and better yet, it would also appear that they had all been so confident that it would go ahead that they had begun to spend their share of the profit. It is just a pity that we cannot afford to buy them out of the business, as I think that what we have witnessed today will be the first of many conflicts in the weeks and months to come."

Nick and Grace could sympathise with the resigned look on his face then, knowing all too well the kind of conflict that being a family could bring. They would sit quietly by when the woman returned and admitted angrily that their existence and voting choice made the whole development a non-starter; however, she then stated that neither her family or the other branch against it would allow any of their money to be invested in the original shop, vetoing any work on it from now on. As she put it, those that wish to dwell in the past would have to fund it from their own share of the profits…

She said that just as Fritz's father walked in, and he listened silently. "I agree with that wholeheartedly," he said. "Of course, I have also to point out that now that the fourth quarter of the shares is represented again, then the share of the profit that each group has will be 25%, and not a third as it has been in recent years…"

The language that followed made even Jeff, with his limited knowledge of the language blush, and he instinctively placed his hands over Wes' ears, even though it was unlikely that he would have any idea what was being said; his reasoning was that if he could work out what she meant, then so could his intelligent son…

As for Nick and Grace, that news was a shock, as they had not been expecting that part of the arrangements to alter. It took them only a moment to agree that they would not take their share, but state it was to be ploughed back into the running of the shop in the square. They would cover the upkeep of the premises that their presence that just safeguarded for posterity…

The future of the historic bakery now assured, the siblings could spend the evening in the company of Fritz and Matthias. The latter was studying to be a mechanic, and was at his happiest when working with machinery of all kinds; he intended to use the skills that he had learned for good when he graduated. He knew that his boyfriend's family's business had an employee that was employed to regularly inspect all of the bakery equipment and perform minor running repairs; another that was employed to maintain and repair minor problems with their fleet of vans. He also knew that both of these long serving employees were nearing the time for retirement, the latter only too happy to do so with the prospect of a new fleet of all electric vehicles on the way. As it happened, Matthias would be fully capable of maintaining those electric vehicles and the bakery equipment when he finished college…

As for Fritz, he was already working part-time, alongside his grandfather, father and brother, although his was a very junior role as of yet. "To become a fully fledged Konditor Meister is a very long process, full of exams, assessments and practical tests, building the most exotic and elaborate of cakes, as well as perfecting all the pastry types, the glazing, the sugar work. It will be tough, and my brother is only halfway there, but according to the elders, I am progressing well. The biggest challenge is the layer cakes; we have to make all of those layers as thin as crepes, then sandwich them together with a thin layer of preserve or buttercream, then cover them with an icing, or a chocolate ganache. The problem is that each of those layers has to be exactly the same thickness to pass the exam and win that most coveted of titles…"

"I think that when I get older, I would like to be a baker," Wes suddenly said, completely out of the blue. They all looked, and saw that his expression was deadly serious. "I help daddy already at home, and if he lets me, then I make some cookies of my own. I haven't set fire to anything yet, and I clean up as I go…"

Nick held in his laughter at that, as his son had innocently pointed out the flaws that his aunt and papa had when in the kitchen. Fritz meanwhile nodded, and answered, "Well, that is one of the first lesson that a good baker learns; that and perfection. I once saw another student at college who had burnt the outside of a cake, and he thought that all he had to do was ice it to cover it up! I think we can all imagine what that sort of thing leads to…"

"A horrible burnt taste all the way through," said Jeff. "It sounds awful; thankfully, Nicky is an excellent baker of all things sweet, but he would be the first to admit that his savoury pastry isn't the best…"

"And luckily for me, Jeff is excellent at the making of such pastry, so he does it for all of my meat pies and quiche. We compliment each other quiet nicely in the kitchen that way…"

"I cannot bake anything at all," sighed Matthias, "but then, Fritz wouldn't know where to start in mending a van…"

"We all have our talents, and we make the best use of them; it is the way that well matched couples thrive," said Grace. "From what I can see, the two of you gel as well together as my brother and Jeff."

"We do," laughed Fritz. "A classic case of opposites attract!"

"My sister knows all about that," replied Nick with a wink. "She is married to a Broadway actor…"

The next day saw Grace heading off to the airport, as she needed to get back to New York she had a client that was needing to see her the following day, and if she was being honest, she was really missing her husband and children. She was grateful though to have had the chance to meet her German relatives, and relieved that they were not at all like her father. She wondered what her great-grandfather would have made of the situation; his grandson so filled with hatred and rage that he would try to destroy his own son, before joining forces with some of the most right wing people that she knew of… It was no longer a disappointment to her that her father had failed to respond to Fritz's letter, but an immense relief. If he had done so, then not only would the young man have been destroyed, but the bakery would also be done for. He had no time for history or the sentimental. The only act he would have done after agreeing to the redevelopment would have been to seek out a lawyer to try and make a claim for his share of the profits since the death of his great-grandmother…

That was not a road that either she or Nick would even think of embarking on; they had for that reason to inform their mother that the family business was one shop, and barely profitable; they might be divorced, but they still had mutual friends, and that could mean that the information would seep back to their father. Technically, he was the direct descendant, and he should be the one to make the decision, not his children. Of course, the majority of the Duval family in Baden Baden had made the assumption that their presence meant that he had died, and it wasn't their place to correct their mistake…

Nick and Jeff meanwhile still had another two days in town, and that gave them a chance to explore. As Grace headed to Munich for her flight, they headed with Wes in the opposite direction, on a day trip to Strasbourg. It was only an hour away on the train, and they could enjoy the architecture of the city, which was a blend of classic French and German styles, as befit a city whose nationality had changed more than once over the years. Those German influenced streets were of most note, as there were very few similar examples of those styles left; those that had been built in the same period in Germany itself had not survived the wars…

Nick found himself left to try and explain the situation to his son as Jeff sketched, and was glad when they moved on, and headed for the building that housed the European Parliament. Nick mused on the fact that its presence put the city on a similar footing with Geneva, The Hague, and their own home city. They were all cities that were not the official capital city of their country, but were home to a major international organisation…

Their time was limited, but they still found time to visit the main art gallery in the city, where Jeff explored the highlights of the collection whilst Nick sat in the main gallery with his son, the latter quiet happy to read as they waited. As Nick looked around at the more boisterous and fractious children in the gallery, he was so glad that his son understood that his papa lived and breathed art, and that such visits to galleries were essential for him to thrive and be happy. All in all, Wes was so very mature and sensible for his age…

On their final evening in Baden Baden, Nick invited Fritz, his family, and Matthias to join them for a celebratory dinner at the hotel, which was of course the premier venue in the small city. The invitation had been accepted without hesitation, such things a treat that the family would not want to miss. It was a convivial affair, and ended with an open invitation for them to return at any time.

"There will always be a room for you in our home," said Fritz's grandfather. "Now that we are back in contact, the family bond must be maintained. Of course, if there are any other issues or disputes within the business, then you will be contacted, and no decision will be taken without the consent of yourself and your sister."

"That is kind of you, but I think that in most cases we will be taking the same side as you in any case. You wish to maintain the heritage of the firm, and that is something that matters more and more in this modern world of ours. We need to ensure that we never lose sight of those things that are good, and have stood the test of time," replied Nick.

"And, should any of you ever happen to be in New York, then we will welcome you into our home with open arms," added Jeff.

The old man sighed, and said, "My wife and I are not great travelers, even within our own country, and my son and his wife are much the same. I don't see there being much chance of that altering, but I am sure that my grandchildren would be happy to take up your kind offer; indeed, I might encourage it."

"I would love to see New York, and follow in my great-grandfather's footsteps, now that I have traced his path," admitted Fritz.

"Well, when you decide to come, let us know," answered Nick. "You are family, and that is the most important thing in the world…"

The next morning saw them heading for Paris, taking the train to Strasbourg once again, then boarding the TGV service from there straight to the French capital. This would be the first time that they had stayed in a hotel in the city, having always stayed in the apartment of François' family before. This time, his parents already had guests of their own staying, and so they could not. They would still see their French friend though; he had agreed to keep Nick and his son company as they showed Wes the main sights of the city, such as the Eiffel Tower. Meanwhile, his papa would make a solo trip to the Musee d'Orsay, where he would spend the entire day looking at the art displayed there; it had gained a lot of new pieces since the last time that he had been there, and going solo would allow him to truly enjoy them.

François would end up surprising Nick when they met up by having tickets for a Bateaux Mouche, and the American had to admit that you saw so much more of Paris from the river, things that were not visible when walking through the streets. Wes was also in his element out on the water, although he thought some of the bridges looked much too low for the boat to pass under safely. After the boat, it was on to ascend the Eiffel Tower, which was another new experience for Wes. He was used to tall buildings, and to heights, as any child raised in New York was, but there he was inside the building, not out on an open metal structure. It was also much lower than he was used to, having been to the viewing gallery of the Freedom Tower. The view here in Paris was much more interesting to him though; being lower meant that the vehicles and people were not so small, and could be watched in detail.

Then it was on to the Metro to negotiate their route to the Arc de Triomphe, their final call of that day. They arrived just when the traffic was at its worst, and Nick spotted that the drivers of Paris had not changed. On seeing and hearing the motorists, Wes grabbed for his father's hand, a rare occurrence these days; he was used to the traffic snarl ups in Manhattan, but that seemed organised in comparison to the chaos before him…

The Sterling-Duval family would reunite the following day for a visit to a landmark that had truly risen phoenix like from the ashes. They had of course been lucky enough to see Notre Dame before the fire that had shocked the world. The restoration work was largely finished by now, the building once again watertight and no longer at the mercy of the weather. The interior was however still a work in progress, the work inside there being of a more delicate and painstaking nature, not something that could be rushed to satisfy the whims of any politician.

The building was not quite so dark inside now, but that was largely down to the powerful lights that had been installed to allow the restorers to do their work. Jeff watched in fascination as one lady repainted a part of the fresco with the tiniest paint brush he had ever seen. He read the information signs, which explained that they were using old pigments and methods to manufacture the paint, then traditional techniques as would have been in use when the work was first done. He did have to admit that one benefit of all the light was that he was now able to sketch some of the interior details that he had not noticed in the previous gloom…

They headed on to the Pompidou Centre, and on arriving, Wes just stopped, and stared at it. After a moment, he looked up at Nick, and said in a loud voice, "Daddy, did somebody read the plans wrong? All of those pipes should be inside!" Nick blushed as he discovered, like generations of parents before him, that children always make such comments in a loud voice just as the rest of the world falls silent. As he tried to ignore the stares of those nearby, Jeff knelt down and tried to explain the thinking behind it to their son, but Wes refused to believe that it wasn't an error. In some ways, the blond had to agree that he might actually have a point…