barely moved during the entire drive.
As he had the night before, Luke walked me to the door of the inn. I leaned against him and looked up into his eyes. There was so much I wanted to say, but I had no words for it. Even if there had been words, I don't think I could have gotten them out around the lump in my throat. We held each other for a long time. Finally, he kissed my forehead and said in French, "Sweet dreams, Cherie."
I looked up at him and said, I think in French, "You need have absolutely no doubts about that."
He held me close and said, "I'll see you for dinner tomorrow. I have a meeting in Nice during the day."
I was confused, "Why didn't you tell me. You should have stayed on the yacht. I could have come back here by myself."
"That was my original plan. But I couldn't send you back to Gordes by yourself. I wanted to spend that hour and a half with you. It was worth having to make the return trip to the coast tomorrow. Sleep late. If you want to use my pool during the day, please make yourself at home. I'll be back around 6:00 or so. If you'd like, please plan to come over for cocktails before dinner."
Then he turned and walked toward his house. I was so weak in the knees it took me a few minutes before I was able to turn around and walk inside.
6 - 40th birthday
The next morning, I woke just before the sun breeched the horizon. I went out on the balcony to watch the world light up. There were lights on in Luke's house. In a few minutes they went out and I heard a car back out of the driveway. As it went around the curve, I could see it was the Mercedes. I couldn't see the occupants, but there was a reading light on in the back seat. At least he was not trying to drive himself at that hour of the morning. I breathed a tiny sigh and then tried to think of something else. I was being an idiot going so ga-ga over Luke. What was I thinking? Who the hell was I kidding?
That day was my 40th birthday. I had not mentioned my birthday to Marie-Claire or to Luke. I found myself feeling glad that he had something to do. It was my last full day in Gordes. I wanted to walk the trails and take photos. I wanted to commit to memory every building and tree. As soon as it was light, I took a couple of bottles of water and headed up the trail toward the Roman ruin above the town. It was four miles up hill. I had all day. It took me almost two hours to get to the top of the trail, but that was because I kept stopping to take pictures and to wander down many of the other paths that ran off the main trail. I spent more than an hour just sitting on a bench overlooking Gordes, burning the view into my memory ... or trying to, anyway.
Eventually, I felt hungry, so I walked back down the hill into the village. I stopped at the caf? and ordered a sandwich and coffee for lunch. I explained to the waiter that it was my last day in town and I told him how much I had appreciated the wonderful service and food. When I was finished, I said good bye to the owner and his wife, who was the cook. I stopped in each business where Luke had introduced me, and said good-bye to each of them. They seemed surprised, but pleased. A few of them had heard about my trip to St. Saturnin-les-Apts. They liked the fact that I had local roots. Each person I spoke to wished me bon voyage and said they hoped I would visit again soon. I said I would love to do just that, knowing it was highly unlikely that I would ever return.
I bought a few books about the area for me and a necklace for you (to replace the scarf I had already worn) and then took my time meandering back to the inn. As I walked behind Luke's house I noticed some commotion on the veranda. I stopped to investigate and discovered Marie-Claire and her husband setting up a table on Luke's veranda near the corner where the view of the sunset would be most spectacular.
Madame looked up at me and said, "Et alors! I was about to send Jean-Michel to search for you. You must get ready for your party. You have messages and presents in your room.'
I looked surprised, "What party?"
She looked at me as though I were a total moron (which I was) and said, "Why your birthday party, Cherie. What else could it be?"
"How did you know it was my birthday?"
She shook her head and looked up at Heaven and responded like a kindergarten teacher, "Your passport, which you turned in to us when you checked in, has your birth date in it."
"Oh." I just stood there stupidly. The very last thing I wanted was a birthday party, but there was no way I could head it off without offending Marie-Claire and, probably, Luke, too. They appeared to be co-conspirators. I knew there was no way to get out of the party, so I decided I might as well make the best of it.
In my room I found a pile of presents on the bed. On the top was a card from you with a note inside telling me how much you hoped I was enjoying myself and how proud you were of me for venturing out and actually taking the trip (it was pretty clear from your note that you had half expected me to chicken out). You said you had arranged to come home to visit the weekend after my return so we could catch up. You told me that you birthday present to me was a deposit you had made with the local photo shop so I could have my pictures developed. You said you hoped I'd have them back by the weekend so we could share them during your visit.
Below that there was an envelope from Philippe Villeneuve containing several photos of my mother and her family. Enclosed was a note from Philippe wishing me happy birthday. I knew Luke was behind that, but I didn't care. I knew would treasure those photos forever. They are all lined up in individual frames over there on the piano.
Under that was a package containing a tiny silver box that resembled an old fashioned cigarette case. Inside was a print of a photo of Luke and me on the deck of the boat the night before. We were laughing and toasting each other with champagne flutes. I have no idea how on earth he got that picture developed and delivered so quickly, but I guess if you have plenty of money you can accomplish all kinds of things that would be difficult for ordinary folks. Underneath that was a large box I somehow knew contained clothes.
My imagination could never have come close to conjuring up that outfit. The pale pink silk gown was sexy and clingy but it also was modest enough that I did not feel uncomfortable wearing it. The matching kid leather high heeled sandals fit me perfectly. A pearl necklace with a cameo was in a box tucked inside the dress box. I almost overlooked it.
Marianne interrupted her story and said as an aside, "You know, I only told Henry two lies during our entire marriage. One was that my cameo necklace was handed down from Papa's family. I could not bring myself to pack it away with the rest of my treasures from that trip. I still wear it whenever I am going somewhere pearls are appropriate."
I looked at the clock. It was after 5:00 p. m. Luke would be back soon. I had to hurry.
As I moved the the dress box, I noticed what I first took to be a shoe box. It was a spray of some of the fabulous wildflowers that grew in the area. I looked more closely and realized it was attached to a hair comb. It would be fabulous clipped into my hair if I pulled it up on top of my head and pinned it, attaching the flowers. When I returned home, I could press the flowers and they would make a wonderful keepsake. At first I thought they, too, were from Luke, then I noticed a card from Marie-Claire and Jean-Michel with a handwritten note thanking me for my patronage. They wished me happy birthday and invited me to visit them again soon.
It was all I could do not to cry. The 40th birthday is, for many women, very difficult because it is a sign they are getting older. My 40th birthday stands out as my very best birthday ever, even though it was somewhat bittersweet because it was also the end of the most wonderful week of my life.
I hurried down the hall to the shower. When I came back to my room, I was thrilled to find a pitcher of sweet iced tea with fresh lemon. I downed a whole glass almost in one gulp before I put on my clothes. I put on my makeup and pulled my hair up. I couldn't manage a neat, smooth French twist, so I went for a loose, curly pile on top of my head. I had some trouble with the flowers, but eventually got them anchored so they wouldn't fall out. I would have preferred them to be more to the back of my head, but they ended up k
ind of on the side. I didn't have time to mess with them. What was most wonderful was they smelled so good. I didn't wear perfume, but the fragrance of the flowers was perfect.
I slipped into the shoes. I didn't have a long slip with me, but I did have a white slip that I hoped would at least serve to make a smooth foundation for the sheer fabric, and not show off my white bra and granny panties too much. As I pulled the dress out of the box, I noticed a smaller package underneath. There was a note from the dress shop owner to the effect that the person who ordered the dress and shoes indicated they were for a visitor who had not brought evening clothes. She indicated she believed the person who ordered the dress had not taken into consideration that the recipient might not have brought undergarments suitable for the outfit. She said she hoped these would do. In the bag was a pair of pink silk panties, a matching lace bra and a long, full slip that was obviously made to go with the dress. It would fill out the skirt perfectly. I knew the underwear would have added to the cost of the outfit, but I felt certain Luke wouldn't mind, and I knew would feel much more comfortable. I had feared that my white bra strap would peek out all night long and, well, I would have been embarrassed. I paused a moment to feel