That night, Arlene considered James’ suggestion about a vacation. In the morning, after breakfast, she picked up the phone and dialed her office. "Hello, Myra, this is Arlene. I need to speak to Hank…. Alright. I’ll hold." She stared at James enigmatically, but before he could say anything she started speaking. "Hi, Hank. How are you?.... I’m fine. Listen. I’m taking a vacation…. I know we’re busy, but we’re always busy…. I realize our caseload is urgent, but I need to get away….. When?" She looked at James quizzically, who mouthed: "In ten days." "In ten days," she told Hank…. "For how long?" James mouthed: "Two weeks." "Two weeks…. No. I’m not mocking you. There’s some static on the phone line." She grinned impishly at James. "Hank. I’ve never taken a vacation. I need one now…. The firm will manage without me for two weeks…. I know this is sudden, Hank, but I got an irresistible offer that I can’t refuse…. I’m not leaving the firm, Hank. This is strictly personal…. I’ll see you tomorrow and tell you all about it…. Don’t worry. Goodnight, Hank." She turned to James. "That was Hank."
They laughed together companionably and James remarked: "You’re a piece of work." "Moi? What did I do?" she asked innocently. "You didn’t waste much time once you decided." She flashed a smile that brought back memories to him of the girl who he once found so exciting. "I couldn’t say no to your impetuous request. Where are we going?" "How about a week in the sun in Majorca? We can stay at a nice hotel on the beach and you can swim and laze in the sun." "That sounds delicious. What’s after that?" "We’ll explore the French countryside for a few days, then spend the rest of the time with our son in Paris, until we leave. What do you think?" "I can’t wait. What do I have to do?" "Just get your passport. You can pay an extra fee to get it quickly. I’ll take care of everything else." He looked at her desk calendar and pointed to Friday, October 6th. "We leave on the 6th." "It’s a date. Now come with me. I want to show you my Parisian sex kitten pose."
When James told his partners that he was taking a two week vacation, the first thing they asked was did he have a new girl friend. They kidded him mercilessly for a while after he told them he was going with his wife. Then the boy’s club subsided into stunned disbelief. They weren’t used to joint ventures in recreation by husbands and wives. They became downright suspicious of James’ sanity when he mentioned that his wife was a very exciting woman. Those manipulators of capital had their own view of wives and it wasn’t very positive. They were either trophies or burdens. James sudden reinterest in his wife seemed to be apostasy. What if other partners succumbed to this strange affliction? That could spell the end of booze, broads, boats and drugs, all the rewards for waging valiant combat on the field of profit.
James tolerated the teasing because he recognized that just a short time ago he was one of them. He cheerfully went about arranging their vacation down to the smallest detail. He booked a flight to Barcelona, with a connecting flight to Majorca. Then he booked seats on a flight from Majorca to Marseille, and ordered a luxury rental car for the leisurely trip to Paris. He reserved rooms in Paris at the George V and bought return tickets to New York. Once the major chores of the itinerary were completed, he planned their route to Paris, with stopovers at four star inns that were renowned for their cuisine. He cleverly looked up the addresses of some chic Paris shops, where he could buy sexy underwear and expensive perfume for Arlene.
The days before departure sped by and Arlene and James worked late each day to prepare for their absence. Yet their newly revived affection surfaced at night and they made love with an abandon that they hadn’t experienced together since their college days. Late one night, James pulled out some pot and offered it to Arlene. "I believe marijuana is an illegal substance, James. Are you inviting me to break the law?" James was abashed. "I don’t want you to do anything you think is wrong." "Smoking pot is a felony. As a court officer my duty is clear." James couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not. "Hey. I don’t want to cause any problems. It was your son's stash. I can just throw it away." She grinned. "Well, there’s no need to waste it."
To the entertainment of much of the world, the lawyers in the O.J. Simpson trial had begun summing up their case on September 29th. James phoned Ted's friend Khiem in Paris and updated him on the trial. Then he told him about the vacation and made him promise not to tell Ted. He assured Khiem that the trial would go on for several more weeks and that he would get all the video coverage that wasn’t being shown in Paris, where huge audiences were still watching the trial with fascination. So it was a shock when on October 3rd, the jury quickly returned a verdict of not guilty, after retiring for only four hours. Khiem was worried that there would be no more coverage, but James reminded him that there would be news articles and interviews for months, so Khiem relaxed.
The only problem regarding their vacation that James didn’t anticipate was that their maids, Inez and Felicia were living in the house. Up to now, whenever James or Arlene went away on business, the other person was there, or they shut the house. Just as they were getting ready to leave for the airport on Friday morning, James realized that he hadn’t prepared Inez for their departure. When he tried to explain in his remedial pigeon Spanish that he and Arlene were going away for two weeks, Inez burst into tears and became hysterical. It took some time and effort for James to assure her that he wasn’t throwing her out. He gave her some household money and still wasn’t certain that she understood anything he said. He made a mental note to learn some basic Spanish.
The limousine driver was waiting impatiently during the attempted breaking of the language barrier. When James promised him a large tip he immediately became cheerful and replied with a snappy: "Yes, sir." By the time they got to the airport it was close to their flight’s departure time. With a liberal dispersal of gratuities, James and Arlene were whisked through every obstacle and soon found themselves comfortably ensconced in the almost empty first class cabin, sipping champagne. Once James verified that they would have no trouble getting their connecting flight to Majorca, he relaxed for the first time in days. Arlene was just getting used to the idea of forgetting her legal responsibilities for two weeks and a delicious feeling of abandon possessed her. As the plane leveled off at 32,000 feet in its flight across the Atlantic, she started kissing James passionately, to the amusement of the flight attendants.
From the moment their flight landed in Barcelona, their movements were well organized. An airport car was waiting near the aircraft to rush them to the short range aircraft for the connecting flight to Majorca. Customs at the Majorca airport was courteous and efficient and a large Mercedes taxi was waiting outside for them. Despite the driver’s operating the vehicle like a lunatic on leave from an overcrowded institution, they managed to enjoy the breathtaking views of the island and the Mediterranean, as the road tortuously spiraled up then down the mountains that made up most of the island. Arlene and James were feeling euphoric when the taxi pulled up in front of their hotel in El Arenal, a tiny town frequented by German tourists.
They changed into bathing suits without bothering to unpack and made their way to the beach, which wasn’t crowded. They applied sunblock 45 to each other, lingering on softer spots, then basked in the sun like indolent seals. Arlene, ever the more practical of the two, regulated their tanning time. When she thought they had enough sun for their first exposure, she led them into the pleasantly warm water that was still moderately clear, despite the fossil fuels and wastes dumped by ship and shore. Arlene, who was never very comfortable in the water of Long Island Sound and confined herself to the pool at home, took to the Mediterranean like a water nymph. When they came out of the water, James noticed that some of the young men hanging out on the beach were giving her the once over and he was briefly caught up in a mixture of pride and possessiveness.
That evening they had dinner in the hotel dining room and James again noticed the attention that Arlene drew. The men who were with women gave her that rapid radar scanning look that spoken-for men master. The men without women let their glances linger, a product of that never ending male fantasy, that one ravenous look would enflame a passionate woman, who would promptly abandon her dull mate for a more vigorous man. This made James appreciate her all the more and he saw that Arlene glowed with a vitality that made her radiant. He was reminded of the powerful sexual attraction he felt towards her in their college days and he idly wondered how he had become so neglectful of her over the years.
The stay in Majorca may not have solved any of their problems, or resolved the difficulties confronting the human race as it scrambled for existence on an increasingly inhospitable planet, but their rejuvenated sex life certainly brought them closer together. By the end of the week of sensual indulgence they were lightly tanned, physically relaxed and sexually sated. The night before their flight to Marseille, a casual conversation about Ted’s present activities led to a more serious discussion of their own goals. James was remarkably candid, revealing parts of himself that he never exposed before. "I thought for a long time that if I made enough money to get what I want that I would be happy. Now I’m beginning to feel that money isn’t the answer. I find myself just wanting more things. Not anything real. Things."
Arlene was very careful not to say anything that would stop the flow of thoughts that James was confiding. "You’re certainly proved your ability to make money. If you could do something else, what would it be?" An anguished look flitted across his face. "I don’t know. I’ve thought more and more about it lately, but haven’t come up with anything. It’s too late to go to medical school and I can’t paint." "It’s very exciting that you feel a need for change," Arlene said encouragingly. "You don’t necessarily have to do something radical. What if you used some of your talent to help others?" "What do you mean?" "You’re good at making money. What if you raised money for some worthwhile cause?" "Like what?" "Well, something you believe is worthwhile, like the homeless, or the American Civil Liberties Union."
For a moment, Arlene was afraid that she was pushing their newly rediscovered communications too hard, but James was thoughtfully silent, considering her suggestions. "I have mixed feelings about the A.C.L.U.," he said, musingly. "We’d be in real trouble without their defending us against government infringements of our rights, but I don’t approve of their knee-jerk defense of that fundamentalist terrorist who bombed the World Trade Center two years ago. What’s his name?" "I don’t remember exactly. I think it’s Sheik Abdul Rahman, or something like that…. I understand your feelings, but it’s not that simple." "Why not?" James demanded. "Those terrorists killed a lot of Americans. It was the worst terror attack ever in our country. They could have killed thousands."
Arlene explained her opinion tactfully, not wanting to alienate James now that they were getting along so well. "Whether I agree with them or not, their mission at the A.C.L.U. is to defend certain constitutional guarantees. They believe that even terrorists have a right to a fair trial, if we want to preserve the integrity of our system." "What if the terrorists are foreigners? Should they have the same rights as Americans?" "They believe so." "What about you?" "I have mixed feelings. I believe that everyone should be entitled to the benefits of democracy, but I confess that I draw the line at people trying to destroy the system. Hank wanted us to defend the Oklahoma bombers, but I wouldn’t do it. Part of me feels guilty about that, but the other part of me won’t let me defend someone who wants to blow up the courtroom I work in." "Good for you. I may be married to the only lawyer in America with a conscience."
The second part of their vacation was as pleasant as the stay in Majorca. They leisurely drove north through France, stopping at elegant inns, for epicurean meals accompanied by fine wines. Arlene was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by the exercise of her appetites for food and lovemaking. "James. By the time we go home, I’ll be a veritable cow." "At least you’ll be a well-fucked cow." She started to react indignantly, then burst out laughing. "You are a very crude man, but I’ve become fond of you. Let’s make a deal. We cut down on the food and keep the sex." James pretended to give her request serious consideration, until she playfully swatted him. "Well, Mister?" "You give me no choice, my little sexpot. Starvation, here I come." "Let’s not get carried away, big boy," she teased. "We have to keep up our strength."
James was careful for the next few days to cut down on the size and richness of their meals. Instead of ordering the delicious dishes that were the specialties of the inns where they stayed, he conferred with the chefs and came up with a compromise cuisine that he jokingly nicknamed "Gourmet lite." At first the chefs were profoundly offended by his unorthodox requests, but James fluent French and appropriate flattery won over even the most recalcitrant Gallic spirit and the chefs tried to present delicate and savory dishes. Of course it didn’t hurt that James lavishly tipped the chefs for their cooperation. Naturally, as true Frenchmen , they continued to despise the vulgar, but generous American, who would have had their contempt regardless of the amount of money he gave them. After all, they were French and it was a matter of national honor to despise all Americans.
James thought he understood the attitude of the French. He elaborately explained to Arlene that they had gone from a great empire to a second class power and instead of blaming themselves, or accepting their fate like the stoical English, they chose to blame their decline on America. When even their culture was supplanted by American painting, writing and music, the breach was irreparable. "They’re even more of a service economy than we are," James asserted. They don’t produce very much other then gourmet food, fine wine and sexy women. And we’re not that far behind them in two out of the three." "I hope one of those categories is American women," Arlene said with mock menace. James touched her suggestively. "Don’t worry. You don’t have any competition when you decide to strut your stuff."
It felt like a second honeymoon by the time they got to Paris. James had reserved a small suite at the George V, on an upper floor and Arlene had a great view of the heart of Paris from the windows facing west. By craning her neck a little she could just about see the Arc de Triomphe and part of the Champs Elyées. They took a short nap, then James phoned Ted. First he spoke to Khiem, who was already suffering from O.J. conversation deprivation, and James promised to send the most recent video material once he got back to America. Khiem cautioned him not to take the underground subway, since there was an explosion yesterday that the authorities assumed was a terrorist bomb that injured 26 people. James said he was looking forward to seeing Khiem soon and asked to speak to Ted.
James and Ted chatted pleasantly for a few minutes, then Ted asked to say hello to Arlene. "She wants to talk to you, Ted." "That’s nice, Dad. Put her on." James paused for a minute, then said: "She can’t come to the phone right now." "Too bad. I’ll call her in a few days." "You can do that, or you can see her at dinner tonight." "What are you talking about?" "We’re here." "What do you mean here?" "We’re in Paris, Ted. We’re staying at the George V." "Are you kidding?" "No. If you don’t believe me, hang up and call the desk at the George and ask for me." "What are you doing here? Are you spying on me?" he asked suspiciously. "Are you doing anything wrong?" "No, Dad." "Then don’t get defensive." "It’s just that this is a real surprise." "I know. Your mom and I took a vacation and we thought it would be nice to see you before we went home." "That’s great. How about we meet at Lasserre, on Avenue Franklin D. Roosevelt, at seven o’clock?" "D’accord. See you later."
Ted was genuinely happy to see his parents and they were equally pleased to see him. They felt real affection when they greeted each other and were delighted to be together. James ordered for all of them, but after that he barely noticed what he ate because he was so caught up in the reunion of his family. "I know this sounds silly, Ted, but it feels like you’ve been gone for a long time." "I know what you mean, Dad. It’s only been about four months, but it seems much longer. You and Mom look different, especially Mom." He turned to Arlene. "You look beautiful, Mom. You’re just glowing." Arlene leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I’m glad it shows. Your father and I have fallen in love again and I feel like a new woman."
The evening passed too quickly. After a brief summary of James’ and Arlene’s recent activities, they listened intently as Ted described the status of his business venture. Ted quickly lapsed into techno jargon that James could only follow partially and Arlene not at all, but they were impressed by his enthusiasm and didn’t interrupt. At one point, the maitre’d, concerned about their lengthy occupation of the table, appeared and asked James politely if he was ready for his check. James gave him a hundred dollar bill and said they’d like to linger over their coffee for a while, which was suddenly very acceptable. Ted explained how the group set up their business structure and with admirable restraint, James didn’t offer one piece of advice.
When they finally had enough of the restaurant they were reluctant to say goodnight, so Ted suggested they go to a café. It was a little too chilly to sit outdoors, so Ted took them to Fouquets, where they could watch the late night action on the Champs Elysées. James let Ted order the wine and they talked for hours. At two A.M. the long week in the sun was taking its toll on Arlene and she yawned just as Ted asked her something. They laughed agreeably and James said: "It’s time to put your Mom to bed. She’s been vacationing strenuously and I don’t want her to be exhausted when we go home." Ted was immediately contrite. "I didn’t mean to keep you guys out so late. I was just glad to see you." "We feel the same way," Arlene replied. "You’ve changed so much in such a short time that I couldn’t get enough of you." "Thanks, Mom. How about you have dinner with the group tomorrow night at General Truong’s house? Seven o’clock?" "Great," James said. "I’m curious to see if your friends have changed as much as you have."
James and Arlene took a taxi back to the hotel, quickly undressed, got into bed and gently made love. When they finished, Arlene kissed James tenderly. "That was so sweet, James. It’s never been like that before." "That’s because I’m discovering a new side of me …. It doesn’t hurt that I’m in bed with a beautiful woman, after a night on the town in Paris, where I saw my formerly slacker son becoming a man." "Maybe he wasn’t a slacker," she chided him. "Maybe he just needed some time to find himself." "I didn’t treat him very well," James said ruefully. "I kept demanding that he do things that I thought were good for him and I didn’t try very hard to find out what he wanted." "Well you obviously didn’t do too badly. He looked pretty good tonight." "He did, didn’t he?"
Despite the late hour they talked quietly for a while, until James was in the middle of explaining what Ted would have to do and he noticed that Arlene was fast asleep. He carefully pulled the covers over her shoulders, put out the light and lay still, thinking about Ted. He made a vow that he would make up for his past neglect and help Ted to the best of his abilities. He had a flashback to that night on the boat when he and his partners entertained the call girls, but he fell asleep before the twinge of guilt could become a serious problem. They slept late and breakfasted in bed. Arlene, in a spirit of playfulness tried to scandalize the room service waiter by sitting up in her nightgown. The waiter, either Algerian, or Arab, showed true French aplomb and merely asked: "Will that be all, Madame?" and made a dignified exit. James teasingly asked: "Are you trying to start a holy war?" "I had an irresistible impulse to flaunt myself. He’ll get over it." "Madame?" "Yes, Monsieur?" "You are becoming positively shameless." "You got it, baby."
They went to the Louvre in the afternoon and by some unusual occurrence it was only moderately crowded. They were able to actually look at some paintings without being jostled by the culture-clutching herd. James translated the French descriptions of the paintings and Arlene explained them. He was still completely disinterested in art, but he did his duty loyally and expressed interest in everything she said. His only rumble of discontent was when she showed him a Braque cubist painting, next to an identical Picasso cubist painting. "Braque and Picasso shared a studio and sometimes signed each others work," she explained. "I don’t get it. What’s the point of painting the exact same thing the other guy does?" "They were both deconstructing the art of the past and inventing new forms. This was part of their process. Maybe they were testing their theories, or joking." "I still don’t get it."
After the hush of the museum they walked across the Pont Neuf to the Café de Flore, on the Left Bank. They ate brunch outdoors and watched the life of Paris flow up and down the Boulevard St. Germain. Then James surprised Arlene with a visit to the Galeries Lafayette, the largest department store in Europe. He bought her a fabulously expensive bottle of perfume and a pound of Beluga as a housegift for the group. Next he took her to Sabbia Rosa, a sexy lingerie shop, for scandalous panties and an alluring negligee. They got back to the hotel with their bundles with just enough time for a nap before dinner with the group.When Arlene came out of the bathroom in her new negligee, the nap was forgotten. They did manage to doze off for a few minutes and only woke up in time to get ready without rushing, because James wisely asked the desk to give them a wake up call.
The taxi left them off in front of the Truong mansion and James and Arlene were impressed by its imposing size. James also noted the rapid response of the security man to their arrival. A solid looking Vietnamese in a business suit walked out of the guardhouse at the massive metal front gate and greeted them courteously. James told him their names and the security man politely requested them to face a video camera and they were immediately identified. As the security man opened the gate, Khiem came out of the house to meet them. They exchanged bows, then friendly handshakes and Khiem escorted them inside. James asked Khiem about the elaborate security and Khiem vaguely referred to possible threats. "General Truong is a very wealthy man." He offered to show the security system to James later and James thanked him.
Arlene was surprised at the elegance of the interior, after the massive stone exterior. "How old is this house, Khiem?" she asked. James translated his explanation. "Many hundreds of years, Madame. Monsieur Philippe will be glad to tell you its story." Arlene thanked Khiem, then turned to James: "I guess I’m going to have to learn French, because everyone else in the family speaks it. Unless Khiem decides to speak English." James translated for Khiem, but Arlene could tell by the brief twinkle in his eye that he understood her. Khiem led them into the main salon where the group was waiting. For a moment there was an almost awkward hesitation, then James said: "If it isn’t my favorite son," and hugged Ted, then shook hands with the others. Arlene hugged Ted, then impulsively hugged Kevin and Lys. Philippe overcame his usual reserve and greeted her French style, with a kiss on each cheek.
Khiem signaled one of the staff, who promptly served champagne. James offered the tin of caviar and Khiem signaled another staff member who took the tin and exited. He returned a few moments later with an identical tin in a bed of ice, with the appropriate condiments. James made a mental note that the next time he bought a gift for the group it would require a little more thought. Perhaps a case of exceptional vintage wine, or a bottle of rare cognac. Arlene was too busy chattering with the young people to notice very much of what was going on around her. She did observe that although Kevin, Philippe and Lys seemed more confident, the big change was in Ted, who seemed to have established himself with the group in a leadership role.
Arlene was deep in a discussion with the group about ethics in business, so Khiem took James aside for a conversation about his favorite topic, the O.J. trial. "Now that Monsieur O.J. is free the case is over, no?" "We shall soon see, my friend. Right now everyone is arguing about whether he’s innocent or guilty." Khiem was surprised. "But did not the court find him not guilty?" "Yes, but there were social issues involved. Many black Americans think he was innocent just because he’s black. Many white Americans think he was guilty and believe he was acquitted because he’s black." "That is very confusing." "I know. When you get a chance, ask Arlene about the trial. Do you think he’s guilty?" Khiem reflected for a moment. "I think so. He is a violent man and there was a lot of evidence that pointed to him. What about you?" "I agree," James said. "But we’ll never be sure."
One of the staff signaled Khiem by radar or sonar that dinner was ready. James hadn’t detected any sound or movement to alert him, but Khiem announced: "Dinner is served in the dinning room. If you will all join us there, the staff will bring your champagne glasses." It turned out to be the only room that seemed to belong in the massive stone house. The table was enormous, a dark teak slab carved for the ages. A dozen large teak chairs were placed around the table, with room for a dozen more. Large teak sideboards filled with silver trays and fine porcelain lined the walls. The few areas on the wall without furniture were filled by muted landscape paintings that Arlene discovered on closer inspection were Corots.
Dinner itself was a delicious, simple Vietnamese meal of fish, vegetables and rice, but the accompanying wines were from excellent French vintages. They talked catch up, since they hadn’t seen each other for months. The group had its first audience for whom they could display their progress without negative repercussions. James and Arlene listened intently as each of the younger people took turns discussing their activities. Arlene could barely follow Ted’s description of his combat game, but James was fascinated by its sophistication, since he followed some of the game companies, whose earnings had skyrocketed in the techno-mania surge that was sweeping the financial markets. He did have trouble following Kevin’s description of their technical equipment. When Philippe and Lys concluded their outline of the business plan, James assured them that their venture sounded exciting and well organized.
The group was thrilled when James offered to be their first outside financial investor and Arlene promised to help them with any legal problems, until they got their own lawyer. The talk became more casual and Ted told them about the night they escorted Lys to a lesbian bar and were thrown out after she flirted with the owner’s girl friend. They all laughed heartily at the part where patrons loyal to the owner were ready to attack the group, who beat a hasty retreat. Once they settled down, James tactfully reminded them that things were different in America. "I don’t want to sound like a father, but you have a lot of anonymity now, because you’re young and don’t plan to stay here long term. When you get home and start a formal business, you’ll have to be more discreet in your personal affairs."
Ted looked at his friends who nodded encouragingly. "I think I speak for the group. We appreciate your interest and advice, Dad. We haven’t discussed our personal lives once we go back to America, but we will. Thanks for reminding us." Then they broke up into two groups: James, Philippe and Lys; Arlene, Ted and Kevin. Arlene made a request of Ted and Kevin. "I don’t know anything about computers, or the complicated things you’re dealing with. Will you educate me when you come home?" "Glad to, Mom. We’ll just have to work out when. I’ll be getting an apartment in Manhattan when we go back." Only an effort of will kept Arlene from blubbering sentimentally at the news that her fledgling was leaving the nest. All she said was: "I’m sure we’ll find some time." But she stared wonderingly at this suddenly grown-up son, who was no longer dependant on his parents. Only Kevin’s breezy: "Don’t worry, Mrs. D. We’ll make a techie out of you," enabled her to maintain her self control.
James let Lys explain their business plan in some detail, while Philippe nodded encouragement. James didn’t recognize the retiring girl who had stayed at his house. Lys seemed confident and sure of herself. He started to make a joke about the benefits of coming out of the closet, but thought better of it. As if she was reading his mind Lys asked: "Does it bother you that I’m a lesbian, Mister Donovan?" "Not as long as you don’t make a play for my wife," he teased. "We’ve been getting along real well lately and I’d hate to have anything ruin it." Lys smiled impishly. "I haven’t graduated to older women yet, so don’t worry." He jokingly wiped his brow. "Whew, that’s a relief. But in all seriousness, when you get back to the states, I suggest you follow the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. Some of the people you’ll need to do business with might not be so tolerant."
James looked at Lys to see if she was offended, but she just grinned at him. "Don’t worry. I’ll be cool. Nobody knows me here, so I can act out a little. Once we’re home, I’ll concentrate on business and not mix it with pleasure." "That’s a very sensible attitude, Lys," James said approvingly. "Do you have any idea how many men mess up because they can’t keep their dicks in their pants?" "That’s not my problem," she said with a straight face. "You know what I mean." She laughed. "Yes. I’ll keep it in my pants." James decided that he liked her, regardless of her sexual preference. "What about you, Pill?" James asked "Are there any dark secrets in your life?" "Many. Perhaps I’ll tell you about them someday. In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you’d call me Philippe. We decided that it was more appropriate for business." James nodded. "A good idea. I’ll be glad to."
Arlene, Ted and Kevin rejoined the others just as Khiem directed one of the staff to serve cognac. James wasn’t a cognac expert, but he recognized an obviously excellent spirit. He made a note that if he brought them a gift, it would be a rare old Napoleon. The mood was very relaxed and James turned to Philippe. "This is a very imposing house. Has it always been in your family?" "No, James. It originally belonged to a cadet branch of the Montmorency clan. They lost it during the Terror following the Revolution, along with the heads of various family members. It was awarded to my ancestor, Armand Gauthier, for meritorious service at the battle of Austerlitz. When the Monarchy was restored, Armande gave his services to the king. His sons became soldiers and it became a family tradition to serve in the military."
Ted had been listening intently. "Were you expected to become a soldier?" "No. Would you like the long version of the story or the short?" "The long," Ted replied, and the others echoed "long". "Alright. In 1878, at the Congress of Berlin, Germany, Austria and Russia divided the Ottoman Empires’ territories in the Balkans and established three new countries; Serbia, Bulgaria and Greece. France occupied Tunisia as part of the great power imperialistic seizure of colonies in Africa. France also occupied Indo-China. Some of my ancestors acquired vast rubber plantations, so now they were planters, as well as soldiers. My grandfather maintained his plantation after the defeat of the French by the Viet Minh in 1954. When the Americans intervened in the early sixties everything changed."
Arlene was fascinated by a different aspect of Vietnam then she was familiar with as a protester. "Is that where your mother and father met?" "Yes. My father was one of the few Generals who wasn’t political. He realized that if the south lost the war, the Buddhists would be exterminated by the communist victors. Instead of playing politics in Saigon, he trained his division to fight. He cooperated with the Americans, because they were the only hope for an independent South Vietnam. During one battle in the Central Highlands, the North Vietnamese overran the plantation that the Gauthiers had started after they lost their plantation in the north. They were about to execute the Gauthiers when my father, despite having only a small force, saved them. Out of gratitude, they finally accepted my mother’s marriage to an Asian." "That’s quite a story," Arlene remarked. "Are your parents still happy together?" "They were," "Philippe answered. "They found the best of east and west. But my mother died giving birth to me." "I’m sorry," Arlene said. "It was a long time ago, Madame."