Gordes a few days before Luke and Marianne left LA, in order to open the house and begin preparations for the family Christmas. She was working closely with Marie-Claire at the inn to coordinate meals for the families.
Chantal's departure left Marianne and Luke on their own for a few days. The first day, Marianne called the grocery where Chantal did business and ordered the ingredients she needed for dinner. Luke was playing golf with some friends, and she spent most of the afternoon preparing roast pork, dressing and home made apple sauce. Luke raved about the food, and Marianne puffed up with pride. It had been a long time since she had cooked a special meal for a man. She forgot how wonderful it was and made a mental note to try to work out some kind of kitchen-sharing arrangement with Chantal if that could be arranged without hurting Chantal's feelings or treading on her turf.
The next day, after breakfast, Luke sprawled on couch reading the paper, while Marianne rummaged around the kitchen occasionally writing things down in a notebook. He asked her what the hell she was doing banging around like that, and she told him she was making a shopping list for dinner. He said, "I hate to see you work so hard at cooking. Let's go out."
She started to protest, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, they looked at each other and knew the time had come for her to appear in public with him. He made reservations for a window table at Moonshadows early enough to catch the sunset and to beat the peak of the dinner crowd. Diane always made reservations for him under one of several aliases, one of which was his actual given name. Nobody had ever caught on to that alias. That day he made the reservation for Jean-Luc de la Peine. He arranged for a driver, because he wanted to put on the dog a little, besides that would allow him to order wine with dinner.
Marianne dressed carefully, knowing she would be under the microscope. She wore a pantsuit that Luke had bought for her. It was simple and chic. She tried not to think about how much he must have paid for the wardrobe he had lavished upon her. A few minutes later she joined him in the living room. He looked up and smiled, saying, "That looks very nice, but it's missing something."
She turned to look in the mirror over the fireplace, and then turned back to him looking puzzled, "Missing what?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. "Missing these." The box contained diamond stud earrings and a diamond pendant necklace. She gasped and tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back and smiled. She put on the earrings and handed the necklace to him, asking him to help her with the clasp. He fumbled with it a bit. They laughed about their awkwardness. He suggested she take off the Paume d'Or necklace. He thought it was too much with the diamond. She took it off reluctantly, and put it in her purse. He raised his eyebrows. She smiled, "Even when I'm wearing another necklace, I keep it with me. It is my most cherished possession."
He turned away but not before she saw the shine in his eyes.
The restaurant was not crowded when they arrived. Only a few people seemed to notice them. Marianne started to relax. The wait staff was accustomed to celebrity clients. The management insisted they be given stellar service with no gushing or invasion of privacy. Asking for an autograph was a terminable offense. Luke had chosen the place specifically because he knew the staff would help him keep curiosity seekers at a distance, at least while they were inside the restaurant.
The food was very good, although much more fussy than Marianne preferred. The portions were very small. She was amused to think that she would have enjoyed her own cooking more. Marianne enjoyed watching the sunset, but they could have done even that from the terrace of Luke's house as well. She knew, however, that this evening was not about enjoyment or the food. It was about being seen in public with Luke: it was strictly business.
By the time they were ready to leave, nearly every table was full. As they walked toward the door, most of the patrons openly stared at them. Quite a number used cell phones or small digital cameras to take photos. As they waited for their car, a dozen photographers lined up on the sidewalk across the street, taking their pictures with telephoto lenses. There was no pushing or shouting. The owners of the restaurant insisted that paparazzi behave. In addition to the sort of official paparazzi, tourists and other patrons entering or leaving the restaurant pointed cameras at them. They had to wait a few minutes for the car, and Marianne was self-consciously aware of the furious clicking and flashing of cameras.
As the car pulled away from the curb, Marianne said, "I guess that could have been worse."
"It used to be a lot worse. Actually, I guess that is one of the compensations of getting old. I'm not as much of a draw as I used to be. People still take my picture and they still ask for my autograph, but I don't get mobbed like I used to. One thing you can count on, those pictures will be on the Internet before we get home and they'll be all over the TV celebrity shows tomorrow."
"Will that cause more interest?"
"Maybe. There may be some interest because you're one of the few women I've been seen with in public since Lisa died. Interest in me may rise a little until the Academy Awards and then it should fall off again. Are you okay?"
"Yes. It wasn't so bad. I think I will avoid looking on the Internet or watching the TV celebrity shows. I never watched them before; I'm not going to start now."
He nodded. "That's a wise choice. My publicist monitors all the photos and the stuff people say about me. If anything needs to be addressed, he discusses it with my attorney. I'm the last to find out about it. That works for me, anyway. The only time they show me anything is on the rare occasion somebody publishes a picture they think I might actually like."
She said, "I'm really pretty much of a home-body. I rarely went out when I lived in South Carolina. I love to cook, especially for an appreciative audience whom I happen to love." She smiled at him and batted her eyes, "While Chantal is away, I'd be happy to do the cooking."
"You can cook when you want to, and we can order delivery when necessary. I know that you don't like to be the center of attention. We'll just have to be careful about when we go out and where we go. Sometimes, however, we may not be able to avoid crowds of photographers. These days they're generally not there looking for me, but if I happen to be someplace where a bunch of the really hot A-listers are hanging out, I tend to get caught up in the frenzy. I'll do my best to keep you in the background as much as possible."
She snuggled against him and said, "And I'll do my best to avoid freaking out on those occasions when you can't."
He held her tight and whispered, "We'll manage, somehow, I'm sure."
3 - Return to Gordes
Luke and Marianne arrived in Gordes a little more than a week before Christmas. Jean-Michel and his son picked them up at the airport in Marseilles. Jean-Michel had changed much in the decades since the first time Marianne visited Gordes: he was heavier and his hair had thinned, but he was still jovial and funny. Marianne had liked him from the minute she met him in 1973; her affection was restored immediately as he ushered her into the car. Marianne couldn't wait to reconnect with Marie-Claire, but that would have to wait. There were a number of guests staying at the inn and Marie-Claire was busy.
The kids were not due to start arriving for several days. Luke's daughter and her family, along with Christa and hers, were arriving on the 23rd because they each had commitments right after Christmas. They planned to drive up from Marseilles together. Luke's son and grandson planned to arrive on Christmas Eve and stay a few days afterwards. Marianne and Luke thought that spacing out the visits like that would help to allow each of them to interact with each of their kids one-on-one.
As the car approached Gordes, Marianne was transported back in time. There were a few new houses. A lot of the old ones had been renovated and/or enlarged. The place had always boasted its share of foreign artists and rich people, but they seemed to have all but taken over at least the outlying countryside. There was a lot more traffic than she remembered, but, then, her last visit had been during the slow season. Winter had
always been the peak season and the holidays positively bustled. Still, the area looked busier and more prosperous than it had on her last visit.
The really important things, however, were the same: lavender fields and olive groves, landmarks and ancient ruins. She could feel Luke's excitement level rising as well. He tried to visit Gordes for several weeks a year, but he told her that he never failed to approach his home with anticipation.
When they pulled in the driveway, Marianne got out of the car and stood gazing up at the house, barely breathing for fear the enchantment would lift and the magical place she had cherished in her memory for so long would disappear. It was exactly as she remembered it! Her memory had neither embellished nor altered even the smallest detail. She stood there for a long time fearing that if she moved or tried to speak she would dissolve into sobbing.
Luke came up behind her and put his arms around her, burying his face in her hair, which was still thick and curly, even though it had turned a shiny silver. When he felt he could finally trust his voice, he said, "Welcome home, Cherie."
She turned and buried her face in his chest. They held each other tightly for a long moment. Marianne squeezed her eyes and gritted her teeth in an