The First Noël at the Villa des Violettes
Patricia Sands
Contents
Also by Patricia Sands
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Author’s Note
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Coming May 2019
Excerpt
Prologue
Copyright © 2018 Patricia Sands
* * *
All rights reserved.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
* * *
Cover art by Clare Strohman and Donna Fedele
Also by Patricia Sands
The Bridge Club
* * *
The Promise of Provence
* * *
Promises to Keep
* * *
I Promise You This
* * *
Drawing Lessons
1
There are times when even the best novel can’t keep your mind off a problem.
Katherine slipped a bookmark between the pages of her book, eased herself out of the comfortable armchair, and walked over to the window. Concentration simply was not happening for her.
Moonlight danced over the Mediterranean. Kat could see a light spray glisten as waves dashed on the rocks at the bottom of the garden. Soft golden moonbeams traced a path along the edge of the lawn. The rays washed across the centuries-old cream-toned stones of the guest wing of their villa. With that part of the house dark inside, Kat found the effect haunting—but in a good way.
I can’t wait until we actually begin to have guests stay in our bed-and-breakfast rooms here in the Villa des Violettes. The new year can’t come soon enough.
Kat welcomed the momentary distraction of her thoughts. She had concentrated all evening to keep Philippe from noticing that something was bothering her. And that was no easy feat.
Most times he can read me like a book.
After dinner they had taken their dogs for a long walk around their neighborhood on the Cap d’Antibes. The eleven-month-old Chocolate Labrador pups kept them moving at a brisk pace, eager to explore the quiet streets that wound around the properties hidden behind tall hedges. At this time of the evening in early December, traffic was minimal.
Philippe entertained Kat with details of a planning meeting the vendors of the Provençal market in Antibes had held that day to discuss ideas and events for la Calendale.
Business had been dropping off noticeably, and they were all pitching in to see if they could attract new customers during the weeks between December fourth and twenty-fifth. The tourism board was going to work with the vendors, but, as always, there was bureaucratic paperwork and a clashing of personalities to toss into the mix.
Philippe’s gentle humor and pointed observations had Kat laughing as they walked, in spite of what she was keeping hidden inside her head. He began yawning before they got home and announced he was going to bed early. Kat felt relieved.
“I’m staying up to chat with Molly, and then I will be along, mon chou,” she said as they kissed goodnight. “You need to have a good sleep for your appointment tomorrow.”
Philippe nodded. “C’est vrai. You are so right. I’ll probably be out cold when you come to bed. Bonne nuit, mon coeur. Je t’adore. Send my love to Molly and Tony. I will chat with them next week.”
“Je t’adore,” Kat murmured back. She watched him leave the room, his words filling her heart. The visceral hum of their connection had not lessened since the day they met.
Then, for the next hour, Kat had managed to focus on the historical fiction novel she was reading by one of her favorite authors. But now, she had given up. She picked up her phone and began pacing as she counted the minutes to eleven o’clock.
There was no denying it. Katherine Dufours was having a pre-Christmas crisis.
Anxiety had been tapping on her shoulder for a few weeks. She had been doing her best to shrug it off, but now she had to deal with it.
There was no one better to help with that than her best friend, Molly Malone, in Toronto. Due to the time difference, their weekly video call occurred Wednesday at eleven p.m. in France/five p.m. in Toronto. That worked well with Kat being a night owl and Molly just home from her job as a music teacher.
In spite of life interfering from time to time, Molly and Kat kept up the friendship they had shared since elementary school. Katherine’s home had been a childhood refuge from Molly’s often neglectful and abusive parents. As adults, the women’s connection had remained strong. After Kat moved to France, they seldom missed their weekly chat.
Molly’s over-the-top personality, which she blamed on her dysfunctional childhood, gave her a unique perspective on life which she never hesitated to share. Her observations were usually hilarious and a bit off the wall, but nevertheless meaningful, as she had a heart of gold. She had recently overcome her lifelong habit of swearing, much to everyone’s surprise. Even Kat had to admit Molly had developed an undisputed expertise at dropping f-bombs.
Molly was a perfect foil to Katherine’s often-reserved demeanor, and her infectious grin filled the screen now as she answered the call.
“Hey Katski, a beautiful bonjour to you! How’s every little thing go—” Molly’s words were cut short. “Geez Louise! I can tell from the look in your eyes there’s something I need to know.”
Katherine lowered her gaze for a moment and pursed her lips before mumbling, “That obvious, huh?”
“Duh, yeah!”
Kat’s expression mirrored the frustration in her voice. “Seriously, Moll, for whatever reason, the reality of this just hit me.”
“For heaven’s sake, the reality of what? This isn’t like you! Spill, please!” Molly implored.
Kat smiled weakly, in spite of herself. “You didn’t drop one f-bomb there!”
“It’s Tony’s good influence,” Molly said with a grin. “Since we moved in together, I’ve been learning to mostly live without them. But stop changing the subject! What’s going on?”
Katherine let out a long sigh. “I know once I say this out loud, I’m going to sound like a bonehead. Here’s the issue. For the first time in my adult life, all the details of celebrating Christmas in my own home are entirely in my hands. Remember how James and I always spent Christmas at my parents? I could hardly even put any decorations up in my own home in Toronto. Now I can make it everything I ever wanted it to be—and I’m worrying I might not make it special enough.”
She paused for a breath and then continued. “Plus, now that my hom
e is in France, there’s even more to consider, with all the traditions of the fête de Noël.”
“Whaaa? So you’re all in a tizzy about Christmas—or Noël—or whatever you are going to celebrate? C’mon, what’s the problem? You can have a great time because there’s no James the Grinch to spoil it anymore! You can do whatever you please and make it the best merry, merry, happy, happy, ho, ho, ho time ever. I’m psyched for you!”
This was one of many things Kat loved about Molly: her unabashed enthusiasm. Molly’s eyes twinkled with energy as she flashed a wide grin, encouraging Kat to return her good humor.
Kat cringed at the reference to her ex-husband, who had been Scrooge incarnate. Molly was right about that.
She gave a forced laugh. “I know, I should be over the moon. But I’m nervous. I’m so focused on making this the best celebration for everyone in every way that I’m a wreck thinking about it.”
“Katski, this isn’t like you. Go with the flow now. Do all the special things you always wanted to do or you had to do at Andrea’s. Decorate the shi—oops, almost slipped there—decorate the house to the nines. You shipped your Santa collection over, right?”
“Yes, but …”
Molly continued, “And there are all those cool Hungarian traditions you had with your parents as a kid. Your parents made Christmas special for me too. I’ve never forgotten everything we did with them, making wreaths and decorations, baking stuff … Mmm, I can still taste those palawhatsits—pancakes with apricot jam, right?—and that shortbread. Yum!”
Kat bowed her head but said nothing.
“Sheesh, you’ve talked yourself into a Christmas conundrum!” Molly said.
“But it’s not just about what kind of Christmas I would like. It’s also about combining all the meaningful customs of the French fête de Noël with our Canadian traditions plus the Hungarian touches of my parents—finding a balance.”
The two friends stared at each other through the screens and stayed quiet for a moment. Molly broke the silence.
Molly continued, with a knowing look in her eyes, “You’re missing your mom as well, aren’t you? That adds another dimension to your downer.”
“I’ve been thinking about her a lot. You’re right. Last year I was so excited when Philippe and Adorée and I went to Joy’s manor house at Sainte Mathilde for the holidays. I really didn’t do anything, as Joy did it all. I was so caught up in my changing world and my love for Philippe that I didn’t think much about what I was missing.”
“So this year you’re feeling melancholy about Christmas traditions in Toronto that meant a lot to you,” Molly went on.
Kat nodded silently.
“Is anything else wrong? You’re sounding a bit like you did when you came back to Toronto and then became unsure about moving to France.”
Katherine frowned, her eyes cast downward. “This is the crazy part. I think in a way I’m feeling some of those emotions. I want this Christmas to be a celebration of everything I brought from my old life to France. And I want it to be a celebration of all the French traditions as well for my family here. It’s almost more than Christmas, more like an affirmation that I am home here in France. Am I making any sense?”
Molly spoke softly and slowly. “I hear what you are saying. I understand. You made a huge transition, transferring your life to a new country with a different language and culture. The good news is, you did this because you fell in love with a wonderful man who loves you equally.”
Katherine nodded, holding Molly’s gaze.
“At the same time you were dealing with grief over the loss of your mom. So,” Molly continued, “you’re still adjusting. It doesn’t necessarily happen overnight.”
Katherine let out an exasperated sigh. “But I’m happy. I love my life here. Why on earth is this throwing me for a loop?”
Molly shook her finger, but her eyes shone warmly. “Listen to mama. If everything else is good in your life, you need to relax and think positively about all the meaningful moments you are going to bring to this holiday for everyone. It’s another part of your new beginning.”
Kat looked somber. “You are right. I’ve also let myself be overwhelmed by the years of negativity with James. All those memories have been flooding back. Twenty-two years of a marriage that was nothing like the one I have now.”
“Put a cap on those thoughts right now, Katski. I mean it. Done and dusted.”
“I suppose so,” Katherine agreed, with some hesitation. “I guess this is just one more adjustment to my new life here that I hadn’t considered until now. I’ve made it into a big deal.”
Molly gave her a sympathetic look that morphed into a wide-eyed expression that implied Kat was making a mountain out of a molehill. “And I bet Philippe will be on board with whatever you want to do.”
Kat nodded again. “I know he would.”
“Duh! So stop worrying! This should be a dream come true. Just be you. Stop being hot and bothered about it. Take a deep breath, pull up your big-girl panties, and get on with it! I know whatever you do will be magic,” Molly ordered. “I’ve got to run now. Andrew arrives to stay with you this week, right?”
Katherine confirmed that, and they spoke for a minute about her plans with her beloved cousin’s son, who was like a nephew to her. Andrea’s three children had always called her Aunt Kat. With Kat being an only child and not having any children, they had truly been her family.
“Okay,” Molly continued, “have a fab visit with him! How are Coco and Rocco doing at obedience school? Give those sweet puppies a big scratch behind the ears for me. I can’t believe they’ll be a year old before we know it.”
A bright smile lit Kat’s face. “I know! The time is flying by. Obedience school is still a challenge for all of us, but it’s fun. We love those pups more than we ever imagined.”
“Those four-legged critters have a way of sneaking into hearts, no question! And now take that deep breath. Do it! I want to hear it!”
Kat made an exaggerated effort to breathe deeply, and she and Molly both laughed.
“That’s better, girlfriend! Tony sends his love to you and Philippe.”
“The same from us—and thanks, Molly, for helping me put this in perspective. I needed to get this out in the open. I knew it was deeper than just worrying about decorations.”
Philippe was already asleep when Kat quietly slipped into bed. She lay there for a while thinking through what Molly had said. She knew it was good advice. She just had to do it.
Kat awoke the next morning with that conversation still fresh in her thoughts.
There, I’ve acknowledged it … and I know I’m getting worked up for no reason. This is a happy time, she reassured herself as she finished showering, dressing, and getting ready for her day.
She had to admit, she felt a sense of relief about confessing everything to Molly. Now she just had to figure out how to come to terms with her “Christmas conundrum,” as Molly called it, and find a solution.
Her mind went into overdrive now. Visions of Provençal santons mixed with Hungarian table decorations (Why didn’t I bring my glass angel ornaments?) and her substantial collection of Santas that were in a box in the villa. Thoughts of traditional Canadian turkey, stuffing, gravy, and cranberry sauce jumbled with the many delicious courses of le Réveillon; a dessert with English trifle and Les Treize; and what about Hungarian palachinta competing with the must-have bûche de Noël?
She wanted to do it all. Her fervent wish was to delight her husband, Philippe, and his daughter, Adorée. She loved that Adorée insisted she was her daughter now, too. “Let’s drop the ‘step’ part!” That sentiment had been one of her best wedding presents.
“Everything will work out,” she mumbled to herself as she went down the hallway to the salon. How many times had her dearly missed mother, Elisabeth, repeated those words to her?
She hoped they would ring true once again.
On her way down the hall, she stopped at the Persian carpet t
hat had been her mother’s treasured possession. Hidden from the Nazis in her parents’ small village in Ukraine, now it hung on the wall to be admired by all who entered the house. Kat closed her eyes and placed her palms on the worn silken gold, green, and brown threads as her mother had done every day in their home in Toronto.
This will help.
In that moment she felt connected to Elisabeth’s spirit.
The horrific experiences suffered during World War II had ensured Elisabeth and Jozsef raised Kat in a secular world. Their Christmas traditions were based on culture, not religion.
Now that she had finally admitted her fears, Kat felt some of that load lift. It was time to focus on what was going to be a busy day.
Envisioning her to-do list, she perched on the arm of the sofa and collected her thoughts. The spacious salon with its dark-beamed ceiling, earth-toned stone walls, and leather furnishings had a zen-like atmosphere that Kat found calming. She and Philippe had worked hard to make every detail meaningful as they restored his family’s once-abandoned villa they now shared.
She tucked her Christmas concerns away for the moment and felt her usual ripple of pleasure when she opened the French doors onto the terrace. The feeling spread from her heart into her fingertips and right down to the soles of her feet. Such a sensation was a frequent occurrence in her life in France, and she hoped it never stopped.
The First Noël at the Villa des Violettes Page 1
