The others all indulged by sleeping in and straggling into the kitchen one by one.
Simone’s madeleines and a platter of fresh boulangerie favorites were waiting on the kitchen island. The aroma of fresh coffee drifted down the hallways.
“Bless the boulangeries that are open on Christmas morning!” Kat exclaimed.
“And bless Auguste for doing the morning run to pick up the treats for us!” Philippe added.
Greetings of Joyeux Noël and Merry Christmas were exchanged.
Philippe steered Katherine to the front windows. “Look across the bay,” he instructed.
Kat exclaimed with pleasure at the snow-capped mountaintops. The temperatures had dropped during the night to present a wintery backdrop high up in the hills. “My first gift of the day!”
“I had the best sleep, Mama Kat!” Adorée reported. This was the first time she had stayed in her room, located near Katherine and Philippe’s master suite. “The pillow is to die for!”
“Well, you should take it home with you. I bought them in bulk when I was gathering bedding for the guest rooms, so we have plenty. Joyeux Noël!”
Adorée laughed and thanked her profusely. “And that’s my first gift of the day!”
All had agreed that the gifts exchanged that morning would not be extravagant. They had set a dollar level and a challenge to find presents of special significance to the receiver.
Philippe had explained to Katherine the previous year that Christmas Day was mostly about family and food, with gifts for the little ones. The adults exchanged their bigger gifts at le Saint-Sylvestre or le jour de l’an, New Year’s Day.
“It’s just the way we’ve always done it in our family,” he said. “When it comes to gifts, it seems everyone does it differently. The tradition in France is what’s being served on the table.”
“No surprise there,” Kat chuckled. “And that all sounds just fine to me.”
After everyone had enough time to inspect and appreciate the gifts, the wrappings were collected and the salon tidied. Kat and Philippe took Picasso and the pups for a long walk by the sea.
The winter sky was its special brilliant blue, which contrasted so well with the deep azure of the December sea. As the sun warmed their faces, Katherine and Philippe inhaled deeply.
“A day like this is always such an elixir,” Kat said, and Philippe agreed. “Un élixir bien sûr!” They laughed as Kat proclaimed, “Hey! I was speaking French without knowing it!”
Coco and Rocco had become so attached to Picasso that they were beginning to emulate his good behavior, much to everyone’s surprise. Although they had to stay on their leashes, they refrained more often from their usual habits of stopping to investigate smells every few feet.
“Do you think Pico realizes he is a role model?” Philippe wondered, giving him a hearty pat on the back.
They discussed the next round of obedience classes they needed to sign up for with the pups. Then Katherine put her mind to the schedule for the rest of the day.
Once they were back at the villa, the troops were rallied.
“Our guests will begin to arrive early this afternoon,” Kat said. “Didier, Alesandro, Alfonso, and Auguste are joining us because they all chose to wait to go home to the pays Basque until the week over the new year. Apparently there are some special family fiestas then, which they do not want to miss. Delphine is coming, as is Simone, along with the five of us. Am I missing anyone?”
“You’ve got it all under control from the sound of things. Just let us know how we can help,” Joy said.
Different tasks were allocated, and everyone set to work as the mouthwatering aroma of roasting turkey wafted through the rooms. Platters and serving dishes were set out that would soon be filled with the feast called le Réveillon.
Katherine and Oncle François walked over to Simone’s to escort her to the Villa des Violettes. She teased François about using a walker when she greeted him at her front door. He looked dismayed for a moment, until Simone took hers out.
“We match!” she said to him.
They all had a good laugh, followed by several comments from the two seniors on the subject of aging.
“It’s not for sissies!” Simone said.
“Though the beauty of a woman, with passing years, only grows!” François said, taking her hand and kissing it, as he repeated the well-known quote.
“François, toujours un beau parleur,” Simone replied, with an impish grin. “Always a smooth talker.”
“And that Audrey Hepburn knew of which she spoke!” François replied. “Madame, you grow more beautiful each time I see you.”
The jocularity between them warmed Kat’s heart, as she listened to these two people who meant so much to her. These two who shared memories from several generations back, when they were together on these properties with their loved ones and lived stories that were now part of history. In the short time Kat and Philippe had been together, the stories had gradually been revealed to them.
As Philippe had said to Kat before, “In many ways they have more connection to these properties than I do. They’ve lived more dreams here than I have.”
They slowly made their way along the path that connected Simone’s property to the Villa des Violettes. François regaled Simone with tales of his goat herd and capers they had undertaken during the summer. Simone matched his with stories about the donkey antics at her place.
“Oh, Katherine! Si belles!” Simone sighed, admiring the decorations on the front doors and in the pots.
“We’ve been busy,” she told her. “Andrew was a big help when he was here.”
When they opened the front doors, the aromas from the kitchen invited them in. The sound of laughter and cheery voices drifted down the hallway.
“Mmm, like the sweetness of the Sirens enticed the seamen, these aromas are enticing me!” Simone said.
“And I’m ready to be captivated by cuisine,” François added.
“Joyeux Noël, tout le monde!” Simone called out to the good wishes that greeted her. She was soon surrounded, everyone obviously delighted she had joined them.
Picasso, sporting a large red bow, managed to be the first to greet her.
“Ah bon, Pico! Bonne fête!”
The pups had been sequestered for naps in the master bedroom until the meal was over.
Delphine greeted Simone with gentle bises and thanked her for being such a comfort when Rocco went missing. “Merci pour le confort, le bien-être quand Rocco a été perdu.”
Unbeknownst to anyone else, Simone had texted Delphine every morning during that time with encouraging words.
The Basque contingent bowed low, one at a time, over Simone’s hand, eliciting gracious smiles from her. “Merci, mes chers garçons, pour tout. Thank you for all you do for all of us.”
The men had been quiet caretakers of her and her property during the months they had been working next door.
They had arrived at the villa proudly presenting a basket filled with bottles of olive oil with peppers, the famous jamon de Bayonne and other Basque specialties.
“Joyeux Noël, Merry Christmas, Gabon Zoriontsuak!” Simone said to everyone as she included the Basque greeting. “I’m overjoyed to celebrate this first fête de Noël at the Villa des Violettes! Your happy smiles tell me it is going very well. As I knew it would!”
“Je t’adore, Simone,” Kat said to her. “I know what an exception you are making today, and we are honored you are here. Come and sit. The champagne awaits and le Réveillon will begin soon.”
31
By late afternoon, there were eleven extremely well-fed friends, three dogs, and one cat relaxing in front of the fireplace. The adults sipped on eggnog, another Canadian touch, with digestifs for the French diehards, and coffee. The dogs snored, and Belle, with her expanding pregnant belly, claimed Auguste’s cushiony lap as hers.
Joy led them all in several rousing holiday songs, some in French and others in English, with varied hi
larious results. Didier and crew had entertained with stories of Olentzero, the Basque Santa, and harmonized on a few folksongs.
Katherine’s heart felt like it would burst with contentment as she looked around the room, listening to the sentiments being shared. She was filled with gratitude at the affection she saw linking one person to the next, and knew she could not have wished for a better celebration.
Next to her, Philippe slipped Kat’s hand in his. He leaned in to say quietly, “On est bien, là.” She smiled, knowing what those words meant to him, and whispered in return, “Yes, we are good here.”
“I hereby declare this Réveillon an outstanding success,” Didier announced, standing and clinking a spoon on his glass. “We thank you for inviting us to share this special day with you. Merci mille fois!”
Cries of “bravo” and “oyez” and “le top” supported his declaration.
The feast had begun with platters of smoked salmon, oysters, and assorted filets of fish accompanied by a variety of sauces. The highlight of this course was an artistic presentation, created by Adorée, of lobster, crab legs, and shrimp along with a separate dish of coquilles Saint-Jacques. Simone had sent the latter over earlier in the morning, and Kat popped it in the oven to brown before serving.
The seafood course was savored in a leisurely fashion. Everyone had their favorites and appreciated the elegant flavors and uncompromising quality of the selections. Katherine had learned that the choosing of the seafood items required serious planning. She had spent much time at the fish market with Philippe, placing specific orders and engaged in deep discussion with the poissonnier.
Next appeared the enormous roast turkey with sage and onion dressing on one platter and cranberry sauce and a gravy bowl set beside it. On another platter was a magnificent standing rib roast with a creamed horseradish sauce.
Serving dishes contained mashed potatoes, a sweet potato casserole with maple syrup, Brussels sprouts, roasted root vegetables, and green beans.
Philippe had arranged for some Canadian cheeses to be shipped to him, with his platter a bountiful expression of Franco-Canadian friendship.
The grand finale again consisted of shared favorites: Hélène’s famous bûche de Noël and a fancy glass pedestal bowl of English trifle that Kat prepared using her mother’s recipe. Plates of shortbread, Nanaimo bars, and mini butter tarts completed the selection.
During dessert, Kat announced one last detail. “There’s one item we did not include in this two-day feast of flavors. It’s a tourtière from Quebec. There simply was not a place to slip it into our menus! Our family always served it on Christmas Eve, but we’re going to have it for dinner tomorrow for all who want to join us. I know the twenty-sixth is just another day in France, but it’s Boxing Day in Canada, so our celebration will continue.”
As dusk was falling, in spite of lively conversation showing no sign of waning, Simone indicated it was time for her to leave.
“Merci encore, ma chère Katherine,” Simone said, a smile lighting her face. “This has been a wonderful day with all of you and this scrumptious feast. To be embraced as family on this Noël has breathed new life into my days.”
“Simone, last year you made it very clear that you chose to spend la fête de Noël by yourself. I understood and respected that. So I have to thank you for giving us the gift of your presence here today. It makes me incredibly happy for you to want to be with us.”
After Simone’s departure, the men insisted on cleaning up, washing dishes, and putting away leftovers. The women sat by the fire and chatted. Avid readers all, each had received a book as a gift from Philippe. They eagerly shared what they knew about each book and promised to exchange them when they finished reading.
Joy said, “Qui sait? Who knows? We may have just begun our own family book club. And I hope you know, dear Delphine, you are very much a part of our family now.”
The young woman’s cheeks flushed and her eyes glistened, as she nodded a silent appreciation.
As the evening grew later, Didier, Alesandro, Alfonso, and Auguste, berets clutched in hand, said their thanks and goodbyes. They all bowed low over each of the women’s hands. It did not go unnoticed that Alfonso, his eyes smoldering more than usual, seemed to linger in his goodbyes to Delphine.
The men firmly shook hands with Philippe and François and patted each other on the shoulders. Then, as if on cue, they all warmly exchanged bises as families do. By this time, they were all respectfully referring to François as “mon oncle,” much to his delight.
Katherine promised there would be cold turkey sandwiches ready for their next day back at work. “No Canadian Christmas is complete without them,” she said, in reply to their curious expressions.
Delphine was misty-eyed as she spoke to each of the remaining family members. “This has been the best—and, really, the first—true fête de Noël ever for me. Je veux dire mille mercis … but even a thousand thank yous would not begin to express my gratitude.” Her bottom lip began to tremble, and she quickly looked at the floor.
Then she leaned down and hugged Rocco and Coco, who were not very patiently waiting their turn for her affection. Picasso was next in line, and then Belle received a gentle pat as well.
Delphine regained her composure and was soon on her way, laden with leftovers—another Canadian tradition.
Adorée, Joy, and Oncle François were leaving first thing in the morning, so everyone agreed an early bedtime was in order. There would be time over breakfast for them to share their feelings about this year’s fête de Noël. However, throughout the day they’d all expressed separately to Katherine what a wonderful time they were having and how she had found the balance.
Last to turn out the lights, Katherine and Philippe now snuggled under their duvet, almost too tired to talk. With Belle at the head of the bed and Rocco and Coco lying across their feet, their smiles said it all.
They shared a long embrace and murmured, “Merry Christmas, Joyeux Noël, je t’adore,” to each other.
“Boldog Karácsonyt,” Kat added. “That’s what my parents would say.”
Philippe’s lips found Kat’s in a lingering kiss. “Tu l’as fait, minou. You did it. You made the best time for all of us,” Philippe softly whispered. “You honored everyone, as you hoped.”
“Merci, chouchou, mais nous l’avons fait. We did it together—you, me, our family, the best gift of all.”
~~~~~~~The End ~~~~~~~
Author’s Note
It was great fun to get back on the pages with Katherine and Philippe and many other of the characters we have gotten to know in the Love in Provence series. So many readers have written wanting to know what was going on in their lives, so I have begun the Villa des Violettes series. These will not be full length novels, but shorter reads that will appear a few times a year. I hope you enjoy following along and spending more time in the south of France.
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Thank you to everyone who has written to me through the years or messaged me on social media. I love hearing from readers! I’m also grateful to the many reviewers and bloggers who take the time to read my novels and write about them. I value your thoughts and opinion, so please continue to share them with me at [email protected].
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Have you signed up for my newsletter? It goes out once a month with all sorts of contests and information about what’s coming next. Just click on “subscribe” at my website http://patriciasandsauthor.com/
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If you enjoy the photos from France I share online, please follow me on Instagram. I’ll be happy to follow you back.
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Any time you take a moment to write a review, please know your efforts are appreciated. Comments from readers are helpful and inspiring to me. You are the reason I write and your words encourage others to read my books. Merci mille fois! Thanks a million!
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And now . . . on to the next book. See you there!
Acknowledgements
In order to reach that exciting point where a manuscript is finally ready to publish, a tremendous amount of support and assistance is essential. I’m grateful to everyone who contributed in his or her own personal way to bringing The First Noël at the Villa des Violettes to readers.
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Friends and family are my rocks. My husband’s patient support, encouragement, and critical first look at my words always begin the process.
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I feel so fortunate to have advance readers who offer honest, helpful comments and read all my rewrites without losing their sense of humor. Thank you for giving so willingly of your time and opinions.
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The guidance, knowledge and formatting skills of Carolyn Ring has been essential to the publishing of this story.
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Many thanks to my developmental editor, Amara Holstein, and copy editor, Rachel Fudge, for their expertise.
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The beautiful cover for this book would not have happened without the talents of Clare Strohman and Donna Fedele. How it all came about is a story I will always treasure.
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My deepest gratitude to the amazing community of authors and readers, bloggers, reviewers, designers and author assistants who make me proud, happy and inspired to keep writing. I learn from them all on a regular basis. Special thanks to Tonni Callan, Kate Rock, Barb Drozdowich, Sharlene Martin Moore and Amy Cooper.
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