“Have fun, don’t lose too much money there,” Liz said.
As the girls headed off to meet Yvette’s father, Liz nodded to the two security guys they’d pulled from Admiral Michaels’ detail to watch over Catie. Maybe they would have some fun in Monaco.
“Alex, this is my papa,” Yvette introduced Catie to her father.
“Hello, Monsieur LeClair,” Catie said as she allowed him to take her hand. He gave her a hand a small brush with his lips.
“Call me Leon,” Monsieur LeClair said. “Now we must go quickly before un flic de stationnement gives me a ticket.” He led them to his car that indeed had a parking cop eyeing it.
◆ ◆ ◆
“Mama!” Yvette cried out when Monsieur LeClair pulled the car into a parking space beside the mansion.
“Wow, that’s a nice house,” Catie said.
“Oh, it was a nice mansion years ago,” Monsieur LeClair said. “Now it is a condominium. We have the unit on the top two floors. Come, I’ll show you inside, Yvette has forgotten her manners in her excitement.”
“That’s okay,” Catie said as she followed Monsieur LeClair up the stairs and into their condo. It was compact, but certainly more spacious than Catie’s condo in Delphi City. The floors were hardwood in a herringbone pattern with a few area rugs in strategic locations. A nice conversation grouping was the central focus of the room.
Yvette and a woman Catie assumed was her mother were holding hands and chatting a mile a minute in French. Both had tears on their cheeks.
“Mama, this is my friend, Alex,” Yvette said. “Alex, this is my mama.”
“Madame LeClair,” Catie said as she grasped Madame LeClair’s hands. They exchanged air kisses.
“Please call me Alma. Yvette, take your friend to your room so she can freshen up after your trip. Then we will have some wine and hors d'oeuvres,” Madame LeClair said.
“Come,” Yvette said as she led Catie up the stairs. Her room was at the end of the hall and overlooked the street. The room was small but very neat. An armoire sat in the corner with small desk in the other corner, and a bed along the opposite wall.
“Cozy,” Catie said.
“Oui.”
“I should have brought a sleeping bag.”
“Non, we can share the bed, we are not so big.”
◆ ◆ ◆
“Some nice wine, some cheese, a little bread and voilà, a nice snack for after your trip,” Madame LeClair said.
“Mama, we ate on the plane,” Yvette said.
“But it is such a long trip.”
“Only three hours.”
“Still. Now be quiet and have some wine.”
“Monsieur LeClair . . .”
“Leon.”
“Leon, Yvette tells me you’re an architect,” Catie said.
“Yes, I am the architect, and Alma is the structural engineer. We make a very good team.”
“Yvette didn’t tell me you were a structural engineer,” Catie said.
“Only because I didn’t want you to judge me for my poor math skills,” Yvette said.
“Yes, Yvette only got her good looks from her mother,” Leon said. “She got her sense of art from me, and of course, her joie de vivre from both of us.”
“And Yvette says that your father is a construction engineer,” Alma said.
“Yes, and my mother is a nurse,” Catie said. Everyone had decided that a doctor and a math professor was too close to the truth.
“Such long hours your mother must have worked,” Madame LeClair said.
“Yes. When I was little, and my mother had the late shift, I used to go to my father’s office after school to do my homework. We would go out to dinner together instead of ordering takeout. Daddy has never been a very good cook.”
“Well, Leon is an excellent chef,” Alma said. “You will see tonight when he cooks for us.”
◆ ◆ ◆
At breakfast the next morning, Gaspard, Yvette’s brother, showed up. He had been out late the night before.
“I will take you to the museums,” he offered. “I can tell you all you want to know about the artists.”
“But we are going shopping after,” Yvette said. “And Papa said I could have the car.”
“That is alright, I will take a taxi home.”
Yvette rolled her eyes at Catie and sighed, “Very well, but I am driving, and you must behave yourself.”
“I always behave myself!”
◆ ◆ ◆
“I’m sorry about my brother,” Yvette said after they dropped Gaspard off next to a taxi stand.
“He was okay. He sure knew a lot about the art,” Catie said.
“Yes, he is quite . . . how do you say?”
“Loquacious if you want to be fancy, or talkative.”
“Non, loquacious is the right word,” Yvette said. “Or pompeux.”
“Pompous,” Catie translated. “Yes, he is certainly full of himself.”
“Yes, and when you asked him what he did with all that knowledge and education, he certainly shut up for a while.”
“Do you think he doesn’t have a job because he doesn’t want one, or because he’s so offensive that he cannot get one?”
“Oh, maybe he cannot get one,” Yvette said; she looked as if the idea had never occurred to her.
“He should get a job doing graphic arts, but one where he can work from home and only communicates via email. That way, he won’t have an opportunity to slip in those ‘I’m better than you’ comments,” Catie said.
“That might work, but poor Mama, she works from home,” Yvette said before she and Catie broke out in giggles.
◆ ◆ ◆
“How did your trip to Monaco work out?” Liz asked when Catie and Yvette met her at the airport for the ride back to Delphi City.
“It was fun,” Yvette said. “Alex spent too much time at the card tables, but we still had fun.”
“Did you win?” Liz asked.
“Yes, but it was a lot of work,” Catie said.
“They asked her to leave the 21 table,” Yvette said with a laugh.
“Oh, you got kicked out?”
“Just at one casino,” Catie said. “I varied my bets, so they figured out I was counting cards.”
“Why didn’t the other casinos figure it out?”
“I didn’t vary my bet so much. But then it took a lot longer to make
