Page 30 of Collin: Episodes 13-15
“It’s a flimsy challenge,” Mr. Reevesworth offered. “You, Eleanor, everyone we’ve consulted expects the suit to get tossed.”
“Elaborate theater?” Collin postulated. Humans need story. Broderic O’Brian’s words rang in Collin’s head. “Who’s telling a story, and why do they need it?”
“Bernstein seems to be at the center.” Damian shrugged. “Him, his conglomerate, his board of directors. It’s their lawyers doing the work. And they’re the ones who have delivered threats and are trying to stop the rail line, among other changes. They’re not exactly thrilled about Reevesworth Industries in general.”
“We outperform them in every area we overlap.” Mr. Reevesworth leaned back in his chair. “Bernstein had an understanding with my uncle to not put each other out. I did not honor that. It would have required compromising some of Linda’s and my core values.”
“Did Bernstein and your uncle have any plans to join their businesses?”
Mr. Reevesworth shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. There are no records. And the ages wouldn’t have matched up for their children.”
“They might have for the next generation,” Damian noted.
“Bernstein has wanted a war for a while,” Mr. Reevesworth said. “Winning governmental support for the passenger rail and actually going forward with a strong plan could have been enough to make him start flailing like this. After all, his pride is wrapped up in the way things have been. The stations and the new flow of traffic will change his world and that of his friends. Existential threat and threat to one’s identity is enough to move a man to irrational decisions. That may be all there is to it. No big conspiracy.”
Damian huffed. “I’ll have Paulsen continue his work on Priscilla. Do you mind if we check your uncle’s private photos?”
“Do it.” Mr. Reevesworth stood up. “It’s time for lunch, yes?”
Damian closed down his tablet. “You good with us filing for dismissal of the case based on the evidence?”
Mr. Reevesworth nodded. “I’ll inform Linda within the hour, but go ahead and get the ball rolling. Don’t, however, close the case. We want it to stay open so we can meet Dana. She may not be in line for the inheritance her guardians are pushing for, but she could be considered family. Linda and I would like to meet her privately. She didn’t choose to be brought into the world as she was.”
That evening after getting home, Collin changed into lounge pants and a shirt and joined Mr. Moreau in the kitchen. “Hello, sir.” He slid his arms around Mr. Moreau from behind in a hug.
The dark Frenchman turned and embraced Collin back, claiming a kiss before he was finished. “We’re cooking for six tonight. Linda and Ellisandre just confirmed.”
A glow started in Collin’s chest. “It’ll be good to see them both. It’s been a little while.”
“Hmm. Yes. We’re going to serve French onion soup with the last of the sourdough, fresh ice cream and raspberries, and I was thinking of doing a take on a Chinese dish I had last time I was traveling there: Chinese eggplant with garlic sauce. I will instruct you on starting the ice cream first. It requires heat, then cold, for at least two hours. I keep the ice cream mixer bowl in the freezer so it’s always ready to be used. Then you can start cutting and soaking the eggplant. We have just enough time.”
Collin reached for his apron. “Yes, sir.”
Cooking was soothing. He mixed vanilla, milk, and cream as well as a few extras into the ice cream base and stirred, following the sound of Mr. Moreau’s steady voice. Their shoulders touched now and again as they both worked over the stove. Mr. Moreau prepared onions and garlic for both the soup and the eggplant. Then he chopped fresh basil and set it to the side for the cheese that would go over the toast in the soup.
“Have you never had French onion soup?” he asked.
Collin shook his head. “Never.”
Mr. Moreau looked over his arm. “That base is perfect. Let’s pour it in the ice cream maker.”
Once the ice cream—well, the sweet, milky soup inside the container that would become ice cream—was in the freezer, Collin cut the eggplants Mr. Moreau had washed. They were smaller and slenderer than what he usually saw in the grocery store.
He held one up in front of his face and frowned at it. “Why do these look different? Were they picked early?”
Mr. Moreau guffawed. “Lots of produce looks different in other countries. That’s the variety you’ll find in China and some other countries. There are over ten different types of eggplants, at least two of which are from Sicily alone, I think. I could be incorrect on that. They are all very different. Some are green, and there’s even a pink variety. The American eggplant, also known as a global eggplant, has thicker skin and more seeds than the Chinese eggplant. More seeds mean a more bitter taste. For Chinese dishes, you have to use the eggplant of that region. If you try to cook it with a global eggplant, you’ll be disappointed. For one, the skin will be difficult to chew. And if you’re making anything that is an Italian recipe, make sure you use an Italian eggplant, also different.”
Collin ran his thumb down the eggplant in his hand. “I always wondered why eggplants were used for that kind of emoji, but it makes more sense now.”
Mr. Moreau chuckled. “The shape is quite different, yes.”
The French onion soup smelled amazing coming out of the broilers. Collin leaned over the hot bowl in his hand. “It was so simple.”
Mr. Moreau clucked worriedly. “It’s still soup even if the top looks crusted. Set it down before you burn yourself. They were just in the broiler.”
Collin grinned and put the oven-safe bowl down on the cooling rack and went back for the other five. Mr. Moreau plated the eggplant and garlic dish. Beyond the kitchen were Linda’s and Richard’s voices with Ellisandre and Damian occasionally joining in. Maribel, Linda’s German Shepherd, had come with Linda. Artemis had sniffed at the dog and then claimed Richard’s lap, but they were accustomed to each other.
“Is it weird that it feels like someone is missing?” Collin said out loud.
