Amidst The Stars

Defending Her Honour

  It had been weeks since Vicente went to Boulangerie Bellecourt on Sunday mornings — since his workload from both school and the restaurant had increased, Ling had been sent to buy the puff pastry they couldn't make themselves just yet. He'd begun to miss the early-morning meetings that he and Madeline shared, where they sometimes exchanged desserts to eat for breakfast and talked about whatever was on their minds before time slipped past and they had to return to their duties.

  To his utter delight, though, his course at university was going through an unexpected honeymoon phase, meaning he'd have more time to himself with less work to do. In a sudden act of impulse, Vicente convinced Yao to cover his work for the first hour of the morning and took the bus to the city centre. Ling's talk from the night before had definitely gotten to him.

  Matthieu was standing at the counter that morning, chewing on a pale-golden piece of candy while staring off into space. He finished off his candy when he noticed Vicente's arrival and waved. The tips of his fingers were covered in powdered sugar. "Oh, hello."

  "Morning."

  "Are you looking for anything in particular?" Matthieu adjusted his glasses, leaving a spot of white on the dark-blue frame. "The first batch of pain de campagne for today is nearly done, so you can stick around for a while if you want some."

  "I'm not really here to buy anything." He looked up at the taller boy, replying, "actually, I was, uh, wondering if Madeline was around."

  He smiled slightly. "Oh, you're here to see her. I thought so." Matthieu hooked a thumb towards the door behind him. "She's in there, probably helping to finish up some sablé cookies. You're going to have to wait."

  "I don't mind." It was strangely relaxing to stay in the Boulangerie, smelling the delicious pastries baking away and listening to the ever-present jazz music. Even without Madeline around, it was a lovely place to be in.

  "Suit yourself," Matthieu said nonchalantly. He brushed his hands clean and picked up a tray from the counter. "While you wait, do you want a marshmallow?"

  Vicente blinked. "Pardon?"

  "I'm supposed to let these cool for a few more minutes before packaging them, but I'm sure Francis wouldn't mind if we had a taste test." He showed him the tray, which was filled with fluffy, cream-coloured marshmallows covered with a thin dusting of powdered sugar. "Go on, take one."

  "Oh." He went up to the counter and took a square of the marshmallow. "Thank you."

  The marshmallow was as fluffy as it looked, dissolving into a cloud of sweetness as he bit into it. It tasted strongly of maple syrup, an ingredient which must've been the reason the marshmallows weren't pure white. He dusted powdered sugar off his hands, commenting, "it's good."

  "That's nice to hear." Matthieu set the tray down again. Somewhere inside the kitchen, a DING sounded loud enough that he could hear it through the door. "Oh, those must be the cookies. Madeline should be out soon."

  True to his word, the door swung open a few minutes later and Madeline emerged, eyes downcast and her hair half-concealing her face. "Your turn in the kitchen," she said softly. "The tray of sablé is airing out in oven B."

  Her brother nodded, unhooking his apron and putting it on. He caught the heavy door before it closed and slipped through. "Your friend's waiting."

  Madeline looked up, noticing Vicente. "Good morning." Her voice was unusually stilted.

  "Hi." He noticed that her eyes were red. "Are you all right?"

  She blinked hard, still staring at her feet. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"