effort not to cry. After a few minutes, Luke took her hand and, without saying another word, led her into the house. There was some new furniture and a lot of new artwork (more original masterworks, she noticed), but for the most part it was exactly the same. She put her arm around his waist and held on tight because her legs felt wobbly and she feared they might give way altogether.
They walked out onto the pool deck where Chantal, who was nowhere in sight, had a late breakfast laid out for them. Luke asked if she wanted coffee. She said, "No, thanks. I would like some juice, please." She stood at the edge of the pool deck, gazing over the fields beyond, recalling those days so many years before, and wondering what miracle had brought her back for another dose of this magic. Luke handed her a glass of juice and asked, "Would you like to go for a walk to stretch our legs after that long trip?"
"I would love to! Let's go."
They set aside their juice glasses and walked hand-in-hand up the path toward the village. Luke knew that Marianne still walked three to four miles a day, either outside or on a treadmill. He typically worked out in a gym. In the past few weeks, they had combined routines. She felt she was benefiting from the weight training; he had lost a couple of pounds due to the additional cardio work. They joked that they were literally good for each other, body and soul.
They talked little as they walked. Each one was lost in some combination of memory and reverie, which careened back and forth from remembering the past to savoring the moment and occasionally wondering tentatively what the future might hold.
After a couple of miles they were both ready to return to the house. As the days progressed and their jet lag wore off, they would venture farther, but after traveling so far and experiencing such an emotional homecoming, they both needed to rest. Luke asked if she wanted to take a nap. She said she would be happy to rest in a chaise by the pool. He wanted stretch out in his bed for a nap. She encouraged him to do so.
He disappeared into the house and Marianne stretched out on the chaise luxuriating in the warmth of the sun and letting her mind drift. It floated just at the very edge of consciousness. Marianne was young and falling in love and simultaneously old and rediscovering a love she thought was lost forever. Young or old, new love or old love, Marianne was happy. She stretched and smiled. She heard tinkling laughter behind her, and turned to see who was there. She smiled broadly and rose from the chaise to embrace Marie-Claire and Chantal who had come to clear away the breakfast things.
Marie-Claire said, "I don't think I have to ask you what you were thinking about. Or, perhaps, the better word is 'who' you were thinking about."
Marianne blushed.
Chantal made sure they were finished with the breakfast things and then began to clear them away. Marie-Claire turned to help and Marianne joined them. Both Chantal and Marie-Claire started to protest, then they looked at each other, rolled their eyes and all three women laughed. They knew that Marianne had a difficult time understanding the boundaries between employers and household staff, but they decided to humor her for once. They knew Marianne had been a cook and a caterer. Cleaning up a buffet was just as natural to her as it was to them. The three women laughed and chatted while they worked together companionably to clear away the breakfast.
Chantal consulted with Marianne regarding their plans for the rest of the day, which was a waste of time because Marianne had no plans and did not intend to make any. She suggested that it might be better if Chantal took command for a day or two while she and Luke re-acclimated themselves to life in Gordes. Chantal, who had been in charge of Luke's private life for nearly 40 years, was delighted to know that Marianne was not going to try to take over.
Marie-Claire and Chantal were distant cousins, and they chatted about family gossip in rapid-fire French. Marianne realized to her chagrin that her French had deteriorated terribly. She could still read, write and speak the language fluently. Understanding the language, spoken at full conversational speed, was going to take a little time. Even so, Marianne could understand enough to follow the general drift of the conversation.
She spent most of the next couple of hours concentrating fiercely to regain that comprehension, and it came back with amazing rapidity. As a by-product, Marianne learned a great deal about what was going on in Gordes as well. She knew that would help her a lot when she and Luke ventured into town and she had to converse with the locals. It would be nice to know who they were and a little background about them, although she felt that she had learned a bit too much information about some of the more scandalous folks in the town and its environs.
When Luke got up, he was ready for lunch. Chantal offered to serve lunch. He shook his head, "Nah. Once the kids get here, we'll be eating in most of the time. I want to spend our family time here in the house. Right now, I'd like to take Marianne exploring a bit. Chantal, call Michelle Frenoise and ask if she would be willing to re-open for a late lunch."
Chantal made a face and said, "Like that woman would say no to you."
He winked and said, "Yeah, but it's always nice to ask."
They both laughed in a way that made both Marianne and Marie-Claire understand that it was a very old inside joke that had acquired layer upon layer of meaning over the years. It crossed Marianne's mind that a stranger listening to the conversation might think that Chantal and Luke were a long-married couple. She felt a little like an outsider. The moment passed because Luke turned to her and said, "Do you remember that winery where we had lunch the day we visited St. Saturnin-les-Apts ?"
She smiled into his eyes and said, "How could I forget? The food was wonderful, but what I remember most was the beauty of the place and the way you wrapped the cook around your little finger."
He tried to look sheepish, but missed the mark and ended up looking like Dennis the Menace, "Well, not much has changed. The place is even more beautiful because Michelle's daughter is a landscape architect who has practiced on her mom's property. It was always beautiful; now, it is spectacular. The food is even better because Michelle hired a real chef who caters to the rich and famous people who have flocked here in recent years. I used to be her only rich and famous client. Now she has bunches of them. The food is, naturally, out of sight as well."
Marianne grinned and said, "Why do I think you still have her wrapped around your finger."
He made that French face that is a combination of a shrug and smirk, "Because I do. The woman is a hopeless flirt."
All three women laughed.
Luke tried to look offended. "No fair ganging up on me. I know I'm a flirt, too, which is why it's so much fun to visit Michelle's place."
Marianne dead-panned, "Sounds like an absolute blast for me. I'll be lucky to get some bottled water and a crust of bread!"
Marie-Claire rushed off to the hotel to start dinner for her guests who were leaving the following day. Marianne went inside to change and she could hear Luke and Chantal talking softly in the hallway, going over plans for meals and agendas. Marianne reminded herself she needed to be careful not to step on Chantal's toes. Chantal had been Luke's chief housekeeper forever, and Marianne's place in the picture was very ambiguous.
A car and driver were waiting for them. Marianne raised her eyebrows. Luke said, "For one thing, I don't drive much around here any more at all. The roads are too narrow and the people drive too fast. My reaction time isn't what it used to be, so I usually limit my driving to short trips within the village where I really know the roads. The other reason is that, in addition to hiring a chef, after her husband died, Michelle hired a vintner who has turned the winery around as well. One reason for this trip is to pick out some wines for the holiday meals." He patted his pocket, "I've got a list of what Chantal is looking for." He grinned, "We'll be doing some sampling."
As they rode along, Luke asked her softly, "Do you want to visit St. Saturnin-les-Apts?"
She paused, "Yes. But, I want to do that while Christa and Madeleine are here. In fact, I was thinking that might be a good trip for my
family to make on Christmas Eve. You and your kids can spend the day together. Richard and Christa have driven all over Europe. If you give him directions, he can drive us."
Luke seemed to be about to protest but then he nodded, "I think that's a good idea. It'll give us each a chance to spend some one-on-one time with our own kids."
She squeezed his hand, "I hadn't thought of this, put perhaps it would be a good idea to let someone know we're coming."
"Have you kept in touch with them?" He seemed somewhat amazed.
"I've kept in touch with Philippe's family. He retired and moved to Marseilles. His daughter runs a boulangerie there. Christa has visited her a few times when she and Richard have visited France."
"Has Christa ever visited St. Saturnin-les-Apts?"
"No. She always said they never had time to venture that far off the beaten track. I think she didn't want to go. And, frankly, if she doesn't want to go now, I will respect that. I would like to take Madeleine if she'll humor me." She paused, "If Christa and Richard don't want to go, would you let us, um, ... could I use your driver?"
He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek, "I would insist on it."
The car pulled into the driveway of the winery. Marianne thought it looked the same, yet somehow different. Then she