Page 32 of Why Cheese?
“No dresses from Istanbul or silks of the Orient?” Cheddy asks.
Cam cups his chin. His eyes gleam and he licks his lips. “Clothing would only detract from her effervescent beauty.”
Needing to change the topic off of me covered in gems and nothing else, I ask, “What, um, what about Roq? Wait, let me guess, he’s a prince to a lost kingdom.” A laugh slips out. No one laughs back. “Wait? Is he?”
Brie answers softly, “We don’t know.”
“Monsieur Roquefort prefers to keep his past as private and inaccessible as his charm.” Cam scoops up the second slice of cheese from one of the aged cheddar wheels.
“We used to believe Cheddy was the oldest,” Brie says.
“How old are you?” I ask.
Cheddy tips his head back and closes his eyes. “I was born in the spring of thirteen seventyish."
“Seventyish?” I ask because thinking about him being over seven hundred years old is breaking my brain.
“Mum wasn’t big on dates. Or most of her children. They nearly sold me to the church after my baptism.”
“They would do that?” I boggle at the idea, but Cheddy shrugs it off.
“Most families did with an extra son or two. They wound up taking my older brother instead, so I trained to be a knight. Kept food in my belly.”
“A shame. I imagine you would have jumpstarted the fall of papal influence long before Martin Luther found a pen,” Cam says. Cheddy laughs so hard his entire chest shakes. Then he claps Cam on the back and the man nearly hits the floor.
“Yup.” He sits cross-legged before me, wipes a tear from his eye, then asks, “What were we talking about?”
“Brie’s life before he became a soft, gooey cheese,” Cam says.
“Oh, I know this one,” Cheddy declares. He situates himself but doesn’t say another word.
“I, uh, I was a clerk,” Brie says.
“For a king?” I ask.
“A shipping magnate. He mostly transported livestock, some grain. It was very boring. I’m sorry I told you.” Brie starts to scoot away. I strain over and cup his knee.
“I was a clerk too. Okay, my boss wasn’t a shipping magnate, more a center that repairs air conditioners. And by clerking I mean I worked in the call center, but…yeah.”
Brie glances over his shoulder and his eyes light up. “Really? Is it what you always wanted in life?”
“God no,” I cry out. A lightness fills my chest. It was a job I took because I had to have a job. I did it, I pretended to be happy, and I went home. Not once did I think to complain out of fear that what little I did have would vanish overnight. But saying it aloud, telling the world that I didn’t want this life, breathes air into my gaping lungs.
With a bright smile, Brie nods fast as if he too is keeping back every buried frustration about his boss. He scoots closer across the floor, causing my hand to slide up his thigh. “If you could do anything, what would—?”
“How, pray tell, did you acquire this curse, Brie the clerk?” Cam asks. “I’m certain the lovely Violette here is bursting to know.”
The energy shifts on a dime. Brie’s open smile folds up and he stares at his empty plate instead. “There was a shipment I wasn’t supposed to open.”
“And…”
“I opened it,” Brie mumbles. “It was full of cheese. How was I supposed to know taking a bite would…? Never mind.”
“The chef tried to shoo me off the piece I ate.” Cheddy booms triumphantly. I half expect him to raise his palm for a high-five. “‘For his lordship,’ she says. Just sitting there out in the open. Take a nibble and next thing I know I’m waking up bare-arsed in the larder. Gave that scullery maid one hell of a fright. She was trying to carry me to the table to be sliced up for breaking the lord’s fast. Next thing she knows, she’s got her palm curled around my bum.”
Cheddy takes a large bite of the sausage and ruminates, “There are worse ways to wake up.”
“Our devoted knight is fair of head and clear of conscience,” Cam says. The insults fly right over Cheddy’s fair head as he raises the sausage like a tankard.
