The First Noël at the Villa des Violettes

by Patricia Sands

  “Yes, that was definitely her mantra.”

  “I love that you have her carpet here. We will always be grateful that she found the strength to write that letter. Imagine if all of our family’s history during the war had been lost forever.”

  Kat nodded. “We are thankful, as painful as it is, to know what they all went through in those terrible times. Those are stories that need to be told through every generation.”

  When Philippe arrived home later in the afternoon, Christmas music was playing softly. At Kat’s urging, Andrew had quickly put together a playlist of Yuletide music from all over the world. Kat remarked it would have taken her hours to do what he did in a matter of ten minutes.

  Coco and Rocco greeted Philippe at the door and escorted him into the kitchen.

  “Formidable! Shortbread! I would know that smell anywhere!”

  The salon, dining area, and kitchen looked as though a troop of holiday decorators had held a contest. Evergreen ropes and boughs were placed tastefully around the rooms, draped over the mantel, and arranged in pots. Red and green velvet ribbons were woven through in some places and tied in bows in others. Thin threads of gold beads added just enough sparkle. Kat had picked them up at a stand in the Place Nationale Christmas market.

  “Bienvenue, chouchou!” Katherine greeted him. She and Andrew were decorating some of the cookies with colored icing sugar. Several other plates held mounds of plain cookies in a variety of shapes.

  “Your timing is perfect! We’ve just taken the last batch of cookies from the oven,” Andrew told him.

  Philippe reached over and took one shaped like a star. His glance checked with Kat for approval.

  “Go ahead. We knew you would be pleased.”

  “They are scrumptious, as usual, Philippe,” Andrew assured him.

  Philippe’s eyes lit up, showing he agreed, as he ate his first cookie and reached for another.

  “You’ve been busy! There are enough cookies here to feed an army.”

  Laughing, Kat explained that they got carried away and decided to keep going until they ran out of dough. “Andrew is going to take some with him to Ukraine, and we will have no trouble gifting some to friends here.”

  “And have no trouble eating more than we should,” Philippe added, gazing around. “By the way, the house looks magnifique!”

  “Well, we dashed out right after lunch and bought the ribbons and garland. There’s a box of candles waiting to be set around the house as well. There are faux candles for some spots. We figured they might be a good idea with the rambunctious pups roaring around!”

  “Then we got into cookie dough mode and that was it! We were committed for the afternoon—just like old times,” Andrew said, his smile warm with nostalgia.

  Philippe reported he had ordered some fresh mistletoe—le gui—at the market. Katherine reminded him they had also purchased eight red and eight white cyclamen plants that should arrive by the end of the week.

  “What about poinsettias like we used at home?” Andrew asked.

  “Everyone tells me cyclamen are the go-to plant here for the fête de Noël. So that’s what I decided we need. I’m trying to make sure I cover all my bases.”

  “Aunt Kat, give yourself a break. From everything I’ve seen and heard, this will be your best Christmas ever.”

  She gave Andrew a wide-eyed look of disbelief. He and Philippe burst out laughing.

  “I believe you, Andrew. One thing I’ve learned about your aunt is that when she sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her!” Philippe said, his voice full of admiration. “That’s why I’m perplexed at how she is doubting herself now.”

  “You’re right about that,” Andrew agreed. “In her own quiet manner she has inspired me in many ways … So what’s with this, my dear aunt?”

  Kat shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m embarrassed about it and can’t figure it out. But we all have our moments, right? Trust me, I’m working on it.”

  Later, as they were about to sit down for an apéro in the garden, Katherine suddenly realized she had forgotten all about checking out the place she thought she had seen someone earlier in the week.

  With the wind continuing to blow, she had been letting the pups run around the yard. She had not seen anything untoward since.

  Now the three of them, accompanied by Rococo, walked to the foot of the garden. The pups led the way, chasing and tumbling over each other, making everyone laugh.

  Although there was a clear view out across the bay from the foot of the garden, there was also one forested area to the east. Simone’s property abutted this and was also heavy with trees there. The growth had been thinned a bit, and flowering shrubs had been planted in front of the trees to add color.

  The pups dashed ahead and disappeared into the undergrowth.

  “It is still quite thick in here,” Philippe observed as he held bushes from slapping back on Kat and Andrew.

  One area appeared to be trampled. Andrew spotted bushes that had been pushed aside to make a faint path to the stone wall. “I guess someone could have climbed over here. But what would they be looking for?”

  “I hate to say it,” Philippe stated with alarm, holding his hand up to stop them from coming closer to him. “But someone has used this area as une toilette. I will have to talk to Chief Mercier about this and see if there are known vagrants in the area right now. Kat, we must be certain to keep our doors locked.”

  “I will call Simone and warn her, too,” Kat said, as a sharp reminder of Dimitri’s gang made her shiver. “I just would like to be assured that’s all it is.”

  Not wanting to dwell on these negative findings, Philippe suggested they go back to the house, have their apéro, and then drive over to L’esplanade du Pré aux Pêcheurs. “There are some first class food stands there, so we can wander around and have a bite to eat.”

  “Excellent!” Andrew agreed, hoping his enthusiasm would overcome their unpleasant discovery.

  “And, of course, Andrew, your aunt will want me to demonstrate my agility on skates!” Philippe said, teasing Kat. They both laughed as they described to Andrew the first experience Philippe had had on the ice with Kat the previous year.

  By the time they reached the Marché de Noël at the esplanade, all three were back in good spirits. Christmas music blared from loudspeakers, some in English and some in French, which made Kat feel somewhat better than the supermarkets’ choices.

  They spotted a number of buses lined up in the parking lot, and they all commented on the different languages spoken in the crush of visitors.

  “Even though our Christmas markets are nothing like those in the north, we seem to be drawing some crowds in the last few years,” Philippe said to Andrew. “But you will see very different kinds of holiday markets in Eastern Europe. Send us photos.”

  As they indulged in delicious sweet and savory crêpes, Kat and Philippe took turns telling Andrew about the quick trip they were going to make to Strasbourg the following week.

  “I’ve been invited to a small gathering of fromagers to celebrate the famous Alsace Munster,” Philippe explained.

  “And I’m going to visit those famous Christmas markets that I’ve known about forever,” Kat explained with breathless enthusiasm. “I’m excited beyond words!”

  Philippe took note of Kat’s change of attitude and silently breathed a sigh of relief.

  15

  Katherine drove Andrew to the Nice airport and hugged him tightly at the “Kissing Spot” just before he went through the security area. “It was so good to have you visit us, my dear. But four days was not long enough,” Katherine said, her voice filled with emotion. “Keep in touch and bring Magda another time. I wish you only joy in the days ahead.”

  “It was wonderful to have this time with you and Philippe, Simone, the pups … everyone! What a life you are building here, Aunt Kat. I’m so pleased for you. As a kid, I never knew of the unhappy marriage you had with James—actually, we didn’t
really know James at all. He wasn’t in our lives much.”

  Kat nodded. “It wasn’t something you kids would really notice.”

  Andrew continued, “In the short time I’ve known Philippe, I can see how connected you are.”

  Kat blushed. “Never too late, right? I keep pinching myself.”

  Andrew hugged Kat again quickly, then waved as he left. Before he disappeared down the corridor, he called out, “You are going to have the best holiday season ever. Keep believin’!”

  Katherine grinned all the way into the old town of Nice as she went to meet Véronique for lunch. Her thoughts took her back to the years when Andrew and his siblings were growing up. Those are all such wonderful memories to add to getting to know him as a mature young man. I can’t wait to tell Andrea and Terrence all about his visit.

  She and Véronique continued that conversation over lunch at the restaurant they both agreed served the most delicious salade niçoise in town. Afterward, they took their time browsing along the narrow, winding streets of the old town, where they were successful in finding a few gifts.

  “We’ve decided not to go overboard with gifts this year, and that’s actually making the shopping more interesting,” Katherine said. “We are going in with a group of friends on a charity donation, which has turned out to be a lot of fun.”

  Véronique chuckled. “We decided that about gifts a few years ago, and only give big gifts to the grandchildren, small ones to our kids. It makes so much sense when we all have what we need.” She looked at her friend thoughtfully. “How are your holiday plans coming along, Kat? I thought I detected some tension the last time we spoke about it.”

  Katherine groaned dramatically. “I can’t believe how I let it all get to me, but I’m coming out on the other side of my anxieties. I think I let nostalgia for my parents overwhelm me, and instead of appreciating memories, I struggled with them. Then I also let loose a lot of pent-up anger over the years that James ruined Christmas.” She chose not to mention anything about the Russians.

  Véronique offered soothing words. She was one of the most calming women Katherine had ever met. She was also the major force, through her own group of artists, in convincing Kat to seriously pursue her photography in France. Their friendship, although relatively new, was deep and sincere.

  “I know you and David are going to Entrevaux for the holidays, but will you come back to Nice for la Saint-Sylvestre? And if you do, may we spend that together?”

  “Bonne idée!” Véronique said. “We will come back from the hills for the new year’s celebration! It will be your first such holiday in the villa, and our pleasure to be with you and Philippe for that!”

  The conversation then morphed into what foods they would prepare—or, for Véronique, what foods her husband, David, a true gourmand, would prepare.

  “We always look forward to his epicurean magic in the kitchen,” Kat enthused.

  “That reminds me: there is a vendor in the Marché de Noël here who makes the best gingerbread ever,” Véronique said. “I’m going to pick some up. Want to come along?”

  “Bien sûr!” Kat agreed.

  16

  “Okay, we are all set to go. Bernadette will be here any minute,” Philippe said as he walked into the kitchen, where Kat was going over details with Delphine.

  “Nothing to worry about. I’ve got this,” the young woman from the animal refuge said to Kat and Philippe. “And I’ll check your Sainte-Barb saucers to make sure they don’t dry out.”

  “We’re so pleased you’re available to come and stay. You’re like Coco and Rocco’s favorite aunt! We know you will all have a grand time together,” Kat said to her.

  Delphine shot her a straightforward look. “It’s not like my social life is keeping me busy. Besides, I would rather spend my spare time with the pups, and I have the weekend off. So it all worked out!”

  Kat and Philippe had developed a strong liking for this complex young woman whose sweet nature was hidden behind tattoos, piercings, and Goth clothing. She was the Mother Theresa of the animal refuge in Mougins and had nurtured Rocco and Coco when they’d first arrived there barely alive.

  In the months since, at first by invitation and then sometimes of her own accord, Delphine had become a regular visitor at the villa. Kat and Philippe were always happy to have her company. They sensed Delphine felt welcome with them and not judged—which she implied wasn’t always the case with other people.

  Kat hoped in time to discover more about her.

  “All of our information is on this sheet of paper,” Kat said to Delphine. “Also, Didier and his crew will be around. Now we have the approval from the mairie, they’ve decided to work overtime on the stable. They will be happy to help if you need anything.”

  “Pas de souci!” Delphine said, assuring them there was no need to worry. She wished them safe travels. “Éclatez-vous ce weekend!”

  Kat smiled at that. Having a ball this weekend is just what I need!

  “À dimanche soir!” Philippe said.

  “See you Sunday evening,” Kat echoed, and then asked herself why she still felt the need to repeat things in English, when she was the only native English speaker present. Delphine and Philippe both smiled at her.

  As they waved goodbye, Delphine was already engrossed in a game of fetch with the pups. Not one of the three noticed they were leaving.

  Katherine and Philippe looked at each other and made sad faces about leaving the pups. Then they broke into grins.

  “I’m excited about our little weekend away!” Kat said.

  “It will be busy but fun!” Philippe agreed.

  Kat could not stop exclaiming as the taxi made its way through the old town of Strasbourg, its narrow streets bordered by the classic half-timbered structures she had seen in so many photos. The driver apologized for inching along as he navigated cyclists, trams, pedestrians, and the occasional bridge.

  “Of course, it’s the busiest time with everyone here for the Christmas markets,” Katherine said. “We’re happy to enjoy a slow drive and the chance to look around.”

  Philippe agreed and pointed out a few spots to Kat as they passed by.

  “Gosh! I knew there were canals running off the Rhine river here, but I never imagined there were so many. It’s sooo charming!” Kat said as she took photos through the open car window.

  “Snap away! In case you don’t get back to this area of town,” Philippe encouraged. “This part of the historic center, Grand Ile, was filled with mills, tanners, butchers, and fishermen in the Middle Ages. The canals were essential for the movement of goods. It is known as Petite France. We will pass the cathedral in just a moment—it’s the second tallest in Europe, after Rouen, so you can’t miss it!”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to walk around. I’m so glad I came with you!”

  “Well, I know you and your camera will be very happy together today while I am away. Tomorrow I am all yours!”

  Philippe was going to a special “by invitation only” event for fromagers that included a banquet that evening. Kat was pleased to have the time to herself. She knew she would be dawdling and taking tons of photos. Even though Philippe was always supportive and happy to wait around, she liked the freedom.

  The flight from Nice had been just over an hour, and the hotel check-in was efficient. By noon they were sitting in a typically Alsatian restaurant that Gilles had recommended.

  It took a few minutes to find the place, set down a narrow side street near the cathedral. The dark wood-paneled walls, carved wooden chairs, tables, and booths, and beamed ceiling created a cozy traditional atmosphere with an obvious Germanic influence.

  Reading through the menu, Philippe reminded Kat, “No wonder Gilles said this town has become one of the foodie capitals of France!”

  After a filling lunch of sauerkraut and German sausages, washed down with a pichet of local Gewürztraminer wine, Katherine and Philippe shared a piece of mellow Munster géromé cheese as the finishing touch. Phil
ippe’s invitation for the afternoon and evening was sponsored by the top producer in the area of this celebrated cheese. “I’m very excited about this,” he told Kat. “It is a small, exclusive gathering, held once a year, and I’m honored to be part of it. You know this cheese has been produced in this region since the thirteen hundreds.”

  “Bless those Benedictine monks,” Kat teased.

  They toasted with their last drops of wine and prepared to head out, both eager to get on with their individual adventures.

  “Don’t wait up, minou. I have a feeling I could be late.”

  Kat laughed. “I know! When a group of fromagers gather, anything can happen. It’s not just about cheese!”

  The afternoon passed quickly for Kat as she meandered through the winding streets. She had decided not to browse any of the hundreds of Christmas market stalls. That would wait until Sunday with Philippe.

  There were plenty of images to keep her shutter steaming. After touring the impressive Cathedral of Notre Dame, she sat on a nearby heated terrace. Her thighs were still burning from climbing the 340-some steps to the top of the belfry. The view was as breathtaking as she had hoped, with the stone towers and church steeples of the old town dotted amongst the tiled triangular rooftops, crumbling chimneys, and gabled windows. In the distance, she could see mountain ranges in Germany and Switzerland as well as the lush vineyards and waterways of the Alsace-Lorraine.

  Inside the cathedral, Kat had been awed, particularly by the stained-glass windows, some of which dated to the twelfth and fourteenth centuries. The tour guide had spoken extensively about how they had been hidden from the Nazis during World War II. He mentioned that this story had been part of the movie The Monuments Men, and she made a note to see if she could find it on Netflix when they got home. She remembered seeing the film when it came out and wondered if Philippe had, too.

  In her seat on the terrace, she sipped a thick hot chocolate. It was accompanied by a warm kouglof, the quintessential Alsatian cake, dusted with powdered sugar and studded with almonds and raisins.