He looked annoyed, maybe even a little angry. "She said you liked them!" But my face turned bright red. I came back from my clementine haze feeling slightly ill and found that he was staring at me. I think I ate a few more but I can't tell you how many. It was like admiring a master's work and then remembering that indeed these were natural fruits, taking you that much closer to the great master himself. You could suck the juice right out of their centers, where their pulp had completely turned to a fabulously intense thick clementine flavored goo, sectioned vaguely into cells. We ate the second two staring deeply into each other's eyes. I asked him if he would like another, and he said yes. I was lost in the haze of sweet love for them, and for Loic. Oh my, they were rich and sweet beyond my wildest imagination. We'd enjoyed brined olives as only they can do them in Provence, country pâté on crusty bread, a kind of slaw I made with things I found around Brigitte's kitchen, chunks of sheep's cheese I'd found at a market there, and then, finally, I brought out two of the clementines. I brought out all of the delicious things I had gathered. I got the impression that even though she said "take some", that she meant "take them all". I decided to prepare the picnic lunch for the train.īrigitte, my future mother-in-law, told me that there were some clementines confites in the kitchen, that I should take some since Loic loved them. The trip had been a success, and we were getting ready to return to Paris. Perhaps it was the rain in Paris where we were both studying or the vibrant colors of the south that emerged when at around this time of year we went to see his parents for a visit. Twelve years ago, when being in love had just set in, everything at the time seemed to have taken on a more colorful rich hue.
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