realized it looked much more prosperous. When they had visited before it was a simple place, making ordinary local wine, and serving inexpensive Proven?al food to local patrons. It had gone upscale in a big way. The buildings were the same but they were no longer shabby and run down; they looked rustic in the same way Luke's house did: by virtue of very expensive design work. The vineyards and olive groves looked the same. The outdoor portion of the restaurant was the same, only where there had been bare wooden tables with ceramic plates, there were now crisp white linen table clothes with gleaming crystal wine glasses, porcelain plates, and fine silver flatware. Marianne tried not to show her disappointment. She apparently failed because she heard Luke chuckle and he poked her with his elbow.
Before Marianne could say anything, Mme. Frenoise greeted them - or, more accurately she greeted Luke, glancing only briefly in Marianne's general direction. She led them to the table, flirting madly with Luke while trying not to be too obvious. She led them to the same table they had occupied on their previous visit.
Marianne laughed, "This is the same table..."
Luke shook his head, "Don't make too much of that. This is 'my' table. I always sit here. It has the best view of the vineyards, and Michelle can see it from anywhere in the restaurant. She puts her best clients here so she can keep an eye on us in case we need anything."
"What happens if more than one of her 'best' clients show up at the same time."
He laughed and leaned forward, "She tries to make sure that does not happen, but when it does, she positively comes unglued. Some of us like to descend on her en masse once or twice during the season just to watch her. She's too funny."
Marianne shook her head. Luke looked at her with a strange expression, "You don't seem to like the changes."
She purse her lips and said, "It's beautiful and I am sure the food will be good, but the truth is, I liked the simple wood tables and those chipped white plates. This kind of fanciness seems out of place in such a rustic place. What is more I prefer the ordinary, rustic Proven?al food. I'm betting the new menu is all that haute cuisine which is about looks more than taste, with portions so small you often need to eat again when you get home."
He sighed, "I rather agree with you. Unfortunately, the client?le has gone upscale and the rich and famous tend to demand fancier establishments."
"You're rich and famous - and, ever so handsome, by the way - but, you seem to enjoy simple things as much as fancy things."
"I do. But, that may be because I was born and spent the first few years of my life in Gordes. Things were anything but fancy here in the 1930's. I don't remember a lot of my life before we moved to America, but I do remember it was pretty bare-bones. Maman carried that with her through her whole life. Even after we moved to the States, she was still basically a bourgeois French housewife who squeezed a dime's worth out of every nickel my dad brought home. She was a fantastic cook, but the food she made was peasant food."
They ate their lunch and chatted about the distant past. They had never really shared childhood memories, but they made up for it that day. They laughed and cried through a long lunch of reminiscing and story-telling. After dessert, Luke leaned across the table and whispered, "Okay, now it's time to get down to business. Please do not be offended, but flirting with Michelle is the only way to get her to give me even a half-way decent price on wine, and even though I can afford to pay more, I don't like to be ripped off."
He stood up and took Marianne's hand, raising her to her feet, and saying loudly enough for Michelle to hear, "Let's go into the wine shop and pick out those wines Chantal ordered." Marianne almost laughed out loud at the look on Michelle's face. It got even better once they entered the tasting room. The vintner himself conducted the tasting. Michelle hung around to flirt with Luke and negotiate the price. Marianne didn't say a word. She tasted the wines they put in front of her and merely nodded occasionally when someone asked her if she liked it. She didn't know all those fancy wine terms and did not want to embarrass herself. She could tell Luke was amused by her act. She suspected he thought she was trying to act sophisticated. In reality she was mainly trying not to embarrass him.
In a little while, they had assembled a couple of cases of wine to take back to Gordes. Once they were back in the car, Luke checked off most of the items from the list, but there were a few missing. He looked pensive for a moment and said, "I think the rest of this stuff we'll just have to order from Pierre at the wine shop in Gordes. I'd rather have Bordeaux and Burgundies for the red wines."
Marianne asked, "Wouldn't something a bit softer go better with the simple Proven?al food that we would prefer?"
He laughed, "Dammit, you sound like Chantal! Okay, we'll get some of each. That's been a continuing disagreement between us for years. I like big, bold reds with a lot of tannin. She thinks softer, fruitier wine goes better with her cooking. I'm sure she's technically correct, but sometimes those soft reds taste mushy to me."
Marianne made a face that made it clear she didn't care one way or the other. They rode back to Gordes, satisfied with both their wonderful lunch and their wine purchases. They held hands like kids and watched the scenery whiz by the car windows.
They watched the sunset from the edge of the veranda, wrapped in a blanket. Once the sun went down it was too chilly to sit outside. They went into the living room where Chantal had laid a fire. Luke had told her they would not want a big dinner because they had eaten lunch so late, so she had left out a plate of cheese, fruit, nuts and a bottle of vintage port. There was a pitcher at the side of the table. Marianne curled up on the couch. Luke asked if she wanted a glass of wine. She shook her head and winked at him, "I'll have a glass of what's in that pitcher."
He obviously thought it was sangria and poured the contents in a wine-glass. The color was wrong. He tasted it and made a face. "You have got to be the only person I know who would prefer that vile shit to vintage port wine."
"Shut up and hand me the tea."
He brought the tray of food to the coffee table. They munched a little, talked a while. At one point, Luke turned on the TV. In flipping channels, they ran across a channel that was playing reruns of old American TV shows. They were playing an episode of Dallas. Luke kept flipping, Marianne sat up and waved, "Go back. I want to see that. I want to hear J.R. Ewing speak French!"
They watched the show for a few minutes, howling at the disconnect between the dubbed French voices and what they knew to be the actual American actors' voices. Luke asked her, "Did you watch that show?"
"Watch it? My God, Henry and I never went out on a Friday night for the entire run of the show, or if we did, we made it a point to be home before nine. I don't think we missed one episode, and we even watched the reruns. Did you watch it?"
He shrugged. "That show was on during a period when I was working really hard and playing even harder between movies. I watched enough episodes to know who was who, and Chantal - who never missed an episode and who recorded them to watch over and over - kept me up on the story line so I would understand what other people were talking about. I have never quite understood the attraction of soap operas."
She laughed and whispered in his ear, "That's because soap operas are all about fantasy for people who live ordinary lives. You were already living a fantasy life, and had no need to watch it on TV."
He rested his cheek against her hair and said, "You probably have a point, although I guess my life doesn't seem all that glamorous to me."
"Oh, yeah, traveling the world making movies in exotic places, being treated like royalty every where you go and bedding beautiful women at every stop along the way. How dull and boring it all must have been."
He looked at her closely to make sure she was kidding and she winked at him.
He said softly, "Speaking of bedding beautiful women..."
She interrupted, "Then you'd better go find one fast, 'cause this old bag is pooped."
He laughed and whispered, "You have no idea how glad I am to hear yo
u say that."
Marianne went into the bathroom first while Luke made the rounds to lock up the house and let Chantal know they were going to bed. She was already in bed when he came into the room. He stopped inside the door. Marianne thought he was going to say something, but he just cleared his throat and went into the bathroom. A little while later he came out and crawled in bed beside her.
He murmured, "Sometimes getting old sucks."
Marianne whispered, "Oh, just shut up and go to sleep." She snuggled close in his arms. He smelled of soap and something spicy.
4 - Christmas
Luke's daughter, Christiane and her husband lived in Cannes, but they had business in Marseilles just before Christmas, so Diane had arranged for them to meet Christa and her family at the airport and drive them to Gordes. Christiane was delighted to have the chance to meet the daughter of Luke's "mystery woman." She told Diane she planned to check out this family carefully. Before they were past the outskirts of Marseilles, however, the 'checking out' part had been completed and they chatted like long-lost friends.
Christa and Madeleine both spoke French, not with native fluency, but well enough to have a relatively easy conversation. Richard did not speak French, but both Christiane (who was born and grew up in L. A.) and Georges (who had been dealing with