The book presentation (9)

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Eliane opened the door to the restaurant with her elbow. She carried a box - a heavy box - and it took several attempts till the door was open for a gap thus she could push it further with her foot to get inside of the building.

"Could someone just help me, please?" She yelled inside. "There are two boxes left outside in the car!" Two of the sous-chefs immediately appeared to help her and Michel eyed around the corner to see who dared to give orders in his kitchen empire beside him. She put the box on a table with much effort and gasped. Smiling at her husband she asked for Shancai. "She's just about to create something new, if it's perfect we offer it at the menu tonight." "Come on, chéri, call her, it's a very important day in her life," Eliane patted her husband on his arm who finally came closer to kiss and say hello. "You're such a brutal wife!" He complained smirking and acted playfully as if he would defend himself by beating his wife with a cooking spoon he occasionally had held in his hand. In the end he went away to fetch his Chinese apprentice who – truth to be said – has become much more than just an apprentice in these past days.

Finally, Shancai appeared with a white apron which was slightly stained with some spots. She was irritated by Eliane who could not but look at the spots on her clothes. Following Eliane's view she started to excuse herself: "Sorry but I'm working on Lobster Thermidor and I need to go back soon. Did something happen?" She asked in an innocent manner.

Eliane gave her an intensive gaze. "Don't tell me you have forgotten about it? You, silly girl." She stated. "Today is the launch of your book in the bookstores. How could somebody forget about such a milestone in one's life!" Eliane scolded her in motherly way. Shancai gave a shrieking sound of surprise with eyes wide open and both hands in front of her mouth. "Really? It's today? Oh my gosh!" This and some more sounds of excitement and excuses burbled out of her mouth.

"In the first box are your personal samples," Eliane explained to her Shancai. "Take good care whom you want to gift. Please sign the books of the other boxes because Michel wants to sell them here," she finished smiling at her husband and Shancai.

Shancai jumped immediately to one of the boxes. She opened the box in next to no time and pulled a copy out of it. She held it in both of her hands a little bit higher than normal as if she wanted to praise and sacrifice it on an imaginary altar. She put it down again and she stroke with one sleeve of her shirt carefully over the cover. Eliane instead noticing Shancai's slight abstraction began to take some pictures with her mobile to make a memory of it.

She wanted to give her some more minutes but her husband who shouted from the back urged: "The lobster is still waiting for you, Shancai! He cannot wait even longer! I don't want to be blamed for food poisoning!" Eliane answered in direction of the kitchen also shouting: "The lobster has to wait, I'm sorry. I fear no lobster this evening for your guests, my dear Michel! But I would accept him. Long ago that you gave me lobster," she complained.

Michel appeared again in the door and again he swung a huge cooking spoon. The couple started a funny game while Michel shooed his sous-chefs with explicit orders back to the kitchen, he threatened his wife again with the tool and chased her round the bar. Being caught behind the bar Eliane laid her index finger on her husband's lips to stop him arguing. "Wait," she said to him, "I'm eager to know her reaction when I tell her the next surprise." She chuckled and went to Shancai who stood in front of the boxes.

She has opened every box to make sure that the copies inside were the right ones. She looked pleased and proud. Eliane came close to her and whispered something in her ear.

"What? You're not kidding me?" She asked Eliane who had just informed her about that amazing opportunity to have a signing hour at the well-known and established big French department store 'Les Galeries Laffayette'.

Shancai's face softened, her eyes began to light up and she danced through the restaurant with her book pressed to her chest when Eliane confirmed for a third time that Miss Dong Shancai was asked for a signing of her "My Pineapple Love"-cookery book.

"I will have a signing hour, I will have a signing hour," she lilted while hopping around the tables. The restaurant was up to open in few hours and the staff was about to prepare everything for the evening guests.

Her uncommon singing made her colleagues appear in the front again. They stood for some time watching her. A relaxed and happy Shancai has been rather seldom to be seen since she has started working at Michel's noble restaurant. In the beginning she often had been so strict and always working with dogged determination therefore it was not easy for them to get close to her.

They clapped their hands and cheered with her. After a while Michel came to his crew with a bottle of champagne. "Special circumstances need special treatment." He declared and opened the bottle without the slightest noise, filled some glasses and offered one to Shancai. "Of course, we have to celebrate this special day! But then back to work, I cannot risk my reputation, so only one sip of it for you folks. I promise to open another bottle after closing tonight."

With the glass of champagne in her hand she solemnly stated: "I, Dong Shancai, will receive the noble prize of literature for my book, and then I win the Pulitzer prize for sure." Everyone started laughing, Shancai laughing the most.

......

Michel exchanged a meaningful gaze with his wife Eliane. He laid an arm around her shoulders and hugged her for a short instance. Both aware that they did behave like Shancai's parents they were proud of her little apprentice whom they helped to grow and how to use her own wings to fly. They were happy because Shancai was apparently happy as she was still dancing around and cheering.

What a pleasure to see that tiny heartbroken Chinese woman act so joyfully after all this time.

And now she held her first own self written book in her hands anyone would have thought of such a thing. "You will all receive a copy with my signature my dear colleagues," gladly she sang on.

Michel got closer to Shancai and tried to catch her while she was still turning around the tables. Finally, he snatched her and stopped her dancing. "Congrats, my dear," and kissed her forehead. You will become a shining star – ah wait - you already are my shining star. I love to see you so happy. But"– and he turned to his cheering crew – "back to work, guys. We are double booked this evening and a lot of work is still to be done before our guests will arrive." He clapped his hands in a bossy manner to underline the meaning of his words.

Shancai looked at the book in her hands, again she carefully stroked over it caressing the cover as if it was a pet. A beautiful book, published in French language, but with a Chinese translated inlay she had insisted on.

The pictures, all taken in Michel's restaurant, looked marvellous, the food design was excellent done and let watering one's mouth by looking at it. The recipes adapted from the stories of the "book of songs" transferred into more modern dishes were completed by romantic scenes part from ancient history part from her own experience, some from fiction. Friends would easily make out which parts of it were original parts of her own love story with the only one she has ever loved.

She caressed the book again. It was a precious treasure for her, the legacy of her love story. Her feelings securely enclosed in a book. This would last forever. Since she had finished that important work, she got more and more relaxed. She had put it down and now she could go further, capsuled her past in a book.



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