THE ROSE PERFUME

Chapter 20

"Boy are you folks in for a treat!" My father says in a more excited tone than before as he stirs his steamy pot. He scoops some soup out and pours it into each bowl with a ladle.

Edmond and I settle into our chairs. My father made the table for my family when I was very young. It still has all the same nicks and scratches from Mama's hot plates. No wonder my father doesn't recognize me. The last time I sat here I was nine. Now, I am twenty-nine.

"The whole world could be upside down. But when I eat this soup, it makes everything right again." My father explains. "It's an old recipe that has been in my family for generations. My mother taught my wife to make it before we were married. And my daughter's children are likely eating it too."

There is a slight catch in his throat and he thinks we did not hear it, but I did. He hopes I am still out there somewhere carrying on his traditions. I do. But, my version of this soup is not as good. I hear other things in his voice. That I married and he has grandchildren. And that my marriage is as happy as his marriage was with my mum. A house full of laughter and love. A couple hardly able to keep their hands off one another nor stand to be apart. And I do not want him to believe otherwise.

"There is a fair in Paris right now," I tell him. "You should enter your soup in a contest. I think it will win."

"My soup wins all the hearts of my friends and neighbors," he says setting the bowls down in front of us. "They do enjoy it."

"Have you been to Paris before?" I ask my father. "You will love it. It is so much different than here."

"Non." He dips his spoon into his bowl and chews for several minutes before answering, "I've never been. This is my home and I don't need any more excitement than that. I live a good quiet life here with people I've known my whole life, and I still have work fishing. There will always be fish to be fished, everyone eats fish, and the sea is huge."

He never looked for me? But I was there the whole time.

"Oui, je comprends." Edmond holds out his hand for him to shake, "I don't believe I've introduced myself to you yet. My name is Edmond." Edmond references his hand out towards me, "And this is Lotte."

"Marius Mercier," My father greets him, "Bonjour." My father leans towards me with a curious eye focusing on my face. His sunken eyes emit a grayish hue over the brown. Still, he glows from within the more he talks about his missing family. "What did he say your name was, sweetie?"

I wrap my arms over my chest from the chill and rub my sleeves. "Lotte. My name is, Lotte."

He stares. He looks from me back to Edmond for answers and Edmond grins all too willing to give them, "This is, Lotte."

"Lotte?" My father repeats. The name on his tongue as dry as a fish left out in the sun. A name that has not been used in so long.

"Oui," I assure him.

"Who are your parents?" He asks me. Still not facing the truth in front of him.

"You are," I say. "Sorry, it took me so long. I finally came home."

"Oh my goodness gracious!" He fumbles with scooting his chair back and tries to get over to me. His cheek presses into mine. Rough wiry beard hairs and damp tears. We hold onto each other for a long time. I feel pride, relief, anguish and remorse, and loneliness inside his grip. He loves me the same now as he always did. Too much time has gone by. But at the same time, like none has at all.

When my father lets me go he embraces Edmond. "Bienvenue! Welcome to our family, son." My father tells him. "You look like a fine young man. Are you taking good care of my daughter?"