I Promise You This (Love in Provence Book 3)

by Patricia Sands

  She pronounced terrible in French, which Kat always felt sounded entirely stronger than in English. Apparently there had been much flooding and damage. As Bernadette continued to describe the problems of all that rain, it made Toronto’s snow and frigid temperatures insignificant.

  Philippe assured both women that Didier had been keeping a close eye on the property.

  “Ah, Didier is doing zee restoration work for you? ’E is okay—for a Frenchman. Je te donne le feu vert,” Bernadette said, always quick to state her disdain for her male countrymen.

  Kat swallowed a snort at Bernadette giving them the green light for Didier. Philippe discreetly rolled his eyes at Kat and shook his head.

  As they bised with Bernadette in front of their apartment, she suddenly reached for Katherine’s left hand. Her face aglow, she admired the ring. “C’est magnifique! More news, mes amis?”

  “Comme tu veux,” Philippe replied with an enigmatic smile. “As you wish.”

  Grinning, the taxi driver drove off down the wide boulevard with a final elaborate wave out the window.

  “Et bien! That news should be all over town by the time apéros are served!” Philippe declared.

  As they entered the lobby of their apartment building, Philippe led Katherine to the antiquated elevator that they seldom used anymore. “Let’s do this again, like the day you came back with me from the airport. Now it will be even more official.”

  They kissed their way to the next floor, then Philippe scooped Kat up into his arms and through their open apartment door. “Across the threshold, just like last time,” Kat laughed, “but I don’t think we’ll leave a trail of clothes to the bedroom this time.”

  “Well, we could . . .” Philippe answered with a sly grin.

  “Oh sure, leave it up to me!” Kat laughed as he looked at her with an exaggerated puppy-dog expression. “I know you’re dying to get to the market to meet with Gilles and get caught up. Besides, you have a case of Crottin de Chavignol you need to put in the cooler! Allez, zou!”

  Philippe carried her to the closet that held their biking helmets. “And I know you don’t want to wait another moment to hop on your bike and go see Simone! Oui?”

  As Philippe set her down gently, Katherine pinched his cheek lightly. “You’re absolutely right about that. What a difference a few months make in a relationship!”

  They looked at each other with comfortable confidence.

  “You know how it goes, Chouchou. Now I’ve got the ring—that’s it for sex!”

  “Meet me at the market after your visit and we will discuss that further,” Philippe instructed, eyebrows raised. Then, with a quick bise, he was out the door.

  Katherine stood still for a moment holding onto that last bise—such a simple thing—and thinking how happy Philippe made her feel.

  In the kitchen, she gazed down the lane after she opened the window and unclasped the shutters. Leaning out, she breathed in the cool air and then ran her hand up the wooden slats of the shutters as she fastened them back to the wall. A smile played on her lips as she took in the scene.

  A dog barked and another replied. Voices of children coming home for lunch would soon bounce off the uneven walls of the timeworn buildings lining the cobblestone alley. Clothes hung on lines across windows. As the colorful items fluttered in a light breeze, Kat noted the pleasure this scene always gave her.

  Yes, it’s small things that help make this home to me. I should feel this is home. I want to feel it. I’ve got to let go of my fear once and for all.

  She pressed Simone’s number on her phone. It rang only once.

  “Chérie! Bienvenue! Welcome back!” Simone’s happiness rang in her voice. “I have missed you. How is your friend? Were you happy to be back in Toronto? Wasn’t it too cold for you? How did Philippe like his first Canadian experience? Mon Dieu, I have so many questions for you . . . come, viens!”

  “I’ve missed you too. You’ve been well? Ça va? I’ll answer all your questions when I see you!”

  Kat smiled to herself as Simone’s voice rose above the Bob Dylan music in the background. She could picture the diminutive artist in her studio.

  “Très bien, merci! All the better now that you are back! When can you drop by?”

  “I’ll hop on my bike and see you shortly. May I pick up anything for you?”

  “Non, merci. You are all I need. I will prepare a salad for us for lunch and put on the kettle and tell Victor Hugo you are on your way. He has missed you too!”

  Although the sun was dazzling and the sky its wintery deep Provençal blue, it was cool and would be even more so in the wind along the water. She decided lined cycling tights and a windproof jacket would be more than enough to keep her warm. As an afterthought, she tucked biking gloves into a pocket.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  As Katherine bumped along the cobblestones in the back laneway, her body tingled with happiness at the familiar, intimate feeling of the narrow alley. Turning onto the paved street along the shoreline, she couldn’t help being filled with satisfaction. The sea shimmered in the sunshine before the light wind whipped waves up along the rocky shoreline. Wispy clouds scudded across the brilliant, clear blue Provençal sky.

  Ahhhh, home. Chez nous. Keep saying it.

  It wasn’t long before she clicked into a lower gear going uphill toward Simone’s home on the Cap, taking a slightly more circuitous route that led her past Philippe’s property. He continued to encourage her to refer to it as theirs, not just his, but she knew that would take a little practice. From this vantage point, it wasn’t possible to see the renovations.

  Passing the partially hidden driveway, she rode a little further and put her bike down at the side of the road. All the grasses and shrubs were still withered by winter. A row of cedars separated the field from the fence.

  “Coucouuuu . . .” she called as she stepped over to the fence. There was a bustling noise before she parted the branches to peer in. She laughed as she came almost nose to nose with Victor Hugo, turning her head quickly as he emitted a loud bray directly at her. Donkey breath was never pleasant!

  Pulling an apple out of her pocket, Katherine rubbed it on her sleeve out of habit and offered it after giving the donkey’s nose an affectionate rub. His head bobbed up and down with joy, and saliva sprayed as he crunched the apple in a few short chomps.

  He turned sideways so Katherine could give him a good scratch through his thick winter coat. After a few minutes, she said, “Okay, allez chez toi! I’ll see you up at the house!”

  She remounted her bike and pedaled up the hill to the open front door of Simone’s home. As Kat leaned her bike against a pillar, Simone appeared with her arms open wide. After enthusiastic kisses on each cheek, the tiny woman enfolded Katherine into her arms.

  “You know I never do this, but I am hugging you! Je suis très, très heureuse de te voir—so happy to see you!”

  They stood locked in an extended embrace and Katherine said, “Simone, this isn’t like you.”

  When Simone released her, Katherine stepped back. She was pleased to see her friend looked as serene as ever and that her bright-blue eyes had not lost their sparkle.

  “Chérie, I realized while you were gone how very special our friendship had become to me. Then, after I was reconciled with Philippe, I knew what we have is something much greater than friendship. Now it feels right to embrace you.”

  Katherine looked puzzled. “You were reconciled . . . with Philippe? You knew him? Whatever do you mean?”

  “Mon Dieu, come in off the step. We’re so silly, standing here nattering. Come into the kitchen, the water will be boiling by now. I will prepare the tea.”

  “Your magic tisane, I hope.”

  “Bien sûr! But of course!”

  “I know I won’t get any more information from you until we are sitting and sipping our tea,” Kat said, scrunching her face in a mock frown. “In the meantime, tell me what you’ve been doing. When I left, you had not been well
, and then you were entertaining your friend, the art dealer from Paris, and his wife. How did that go?”

  Simone pressed her hands together at her chest in a prayer position and bowed over her fingers. “Namaste. It went very well. I am always amazed to discover new people who want to purchase my art.”

  “Let me get the kettle,” Katherine offered as she pulled out a chair for Simone. She walked over to the counter where the kettle was plugged in and whistling. “I drank a lot of café mochas while I was away. It will be a nice change to sip your soothing blend.”

  They passed a few moments trading news back and forth. Simone was fascinated by Molly’s condition and asked many questions.

  Finally, Katherine reached over and took Simone’s hand. “I’m so curious about the visit you had with Philippe. He was very mysterious about it. What’s going on?”

  Simone’s eyes glistened. Her face softened and pleasure filled her voice as she looked at Katherine’s hand. “Chérie, it is for you to tell me what is going on. Quel joli bijou! I haven’t seen this ring before.”

  Katherine smirked. “You are an expert at diversion!”

  “It’s a long-established trait,” Simone replied with a twinge of irony. “You will have to be patient. I want Philippe to be here so we can tell you the whole story together.”

  Katherine shook her head. “Mystery and intrigue. Life is never dull with you, my dear friend.”

  “Please serve the salad, and tell me everything. I will slice the baguette.”

  As they enjoyed their light lunch, Kat related the story of how Philippe had surprised her with the ring.

  Delighted, Simone asked, “So, chérie, would you say this stunning ring is une bague de fiançailles—an engagement ring? Will we be planning une fête de mariage?”

  Kat felt embarrassed as she explained her nervousness about an actual wedding. “Words like ‘engagement’ and ‘wedding’ still cause me to get twitchy. Can you explain that? At my age, it’s kind of silly, n’est-ce pas? Especially when I love Philippe like I do.”

  Simone’s face wore a wise expression that Kat had come to recognize, a mixture of serenity and experience “Chat échaudé craint l’eau froide. What is that English expression—once burned, twice shy? I suspect you are still holding onto the fear of hurt from your broken marriage. You need to let that go. I know you can, in your own time.”

  Kat nodded, not surprised that Simone had picked up on her feelings. She hadn’t realized there was a similar saying in French to the English one. “Well, my own time is a bit under the gun. Based on the documents we have in place, I have less than six months to get my act together if we are to get married. I made a commitment, though. I did say yes to Philippe’s proposal, and that was a big step forward. Now I have to take one more step and just do it.”

  Smiling, Simone simply responded, “Ce qui sera, sera. What will be, will be.”

  Katherine smiled back, filled with gratitude for the presence of this treasured friend in her life. Deep inside, though, she wrestled with frustration. She had felt her stomach tighten with anxiety during that exchange with Simone. This flip-flopping of feelings has to end, she told herself.

  She was pleased to see that Simone appeared to be completely recovered from the illnesses that had plagued her during the holidays. She looked healthier than ever to Kat, who yet again thought how no one would come close to guessing Simone’s age.

  When they parted, Simone urged Katherine to let her know when she and Philippe could come for lunch. “I promise you full disclosure. Now that it is time for the story to be revealed, I’m eager to tell it. Somehow I never dreamed I would live to see this day.”

  Back on her bike, Katherine inhaled the sea air as she accelerated through the twisting turns that took her back to the coast. She had been away only three weeks, but it felt much longer. She and Philippe hadn’t been on their bikes since well before Christmas, but she was pleased to discover that the crisp winter air was not too cold for cycling.

  “D’accord, Minou,” Philippe agreed when she arrived at the market and suggested they plan a ride that afternoon. She could see the line was moving slowly at his counter. Many of his regulars knew he’d been in Toronto and were curious to hear his observations. They would not be ready to close up shop for a while.

  Gilles greeted her warmly from behind the counter and then came around to offer her heartfelt bises. “I understand congratulations are in order, Katherine. I am very happy for you both. I’m glad your friend is getting better too.”

  Suggesting to Philippe that she wait for him at home, Kat gave him a flirtatious wink. Then she parked her bike in his storage unit at the market. Taking the extra panier they kept for just such occasions, she considered what to buy as she perused the stalls. It was time to get life organized once more.

  As always, the market bustled with color and energy. Overflowing with a vast assortment of veggies, fruit, cheese, meats, olives, and flowers, it was a veritable kaleidoscope of sights, smells, and sounds. Kat found herself wrapped in the ambiance as she made her way up the aisles, selecting greens and fruit to refill their larder.

  Other vendors offered similar sincere wishes as Gilles. “Les bonnes nouvelles vont vite par ici!” They teased her. “Good news travels fast around here!”

  Grinning and thanking everyone, Katherine wondered if she would ever outgrow blushing.

  She enjoyed the quieter atmosphere in the market. With far fewer tourists in the winter, the vendors had time to chat about the weather and politics or suggest recipes. Others in line were quick to add their tips and kibitz as to which of them prepared the best dish.

  “Don’t forget to add extra onion,” said one.

  “Mais, non! More garlic, not onion!” answered another.

  “Écoutez-moi! Les deux, les deux! You need more of both. Trust me!”

  Laughter always accompanied this lighthearted banter.

  By the time Kat stopped at the bakery and fish store on the way home, her panier and heart were both overflowing. Putting away the food, she marveled once again at how much her traditional woven wicker basket could hold and never feel heavy. Such a simple thing turns buying food into a completely different experience than wobbly shopping carts and plastic bags. I love my panier!

  Then she checked her e-mail to see what news had arrived from Toronto. Andrea had promised to write every day and there was a quick message saying she had talked to Molly. Apparently the rehab was going well, and Terrence was in Toronto today installing voice-recognition software so Molly could e-mail. The therapists had told Molly they didn’t want her using a keyboard just yet, as it might interfere with her shoulder healing. Molly was feeling good and told Andrea she was planning to Skype Kat and Philippe.

  The next two hours were spent unpacking from the trip, reorganizing, and finding the right spots to set the special framed photos Kat had brought back with her. The crate she shipped would take a couple of weeks to arrive.

  Kat was just beginning to wonder what was keeping Philippe when he burst in. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We had one thing after another to deal with—and a lot of curious customers! Still want to cycle? I rode your bike home. Let’s pick a route and then end at the villa. Didier wants to meet us there and introduce his équipe, as he called it.”

  Laughing as she got ready to ride, Kat said, “His team? It’s all go, isn’t it? I can’t wait to see what’s happening on the Cap.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up!” he cautioned. “Best to be pleasantly surprised. The way repairs and renovation go in France, there’s never a guarantee about anything.”

  They chose a short hour-long route that would take them west toward Cannes, but not up to a challenging elevation. “We better take a while to ease into those hills, ma belle. This will be a good beginning.”

  They put their heads down and focused on cadence and breathing. Kat’s legs responded to the challenge as they picked up speed. She wondered if she would pay a price the next morning after more th
an a month without any exercise. She had already promised herself she would get back to her yoga class the next morning and had left a voicemail for Annette to say they should do lunch after their session.

  Now she felt the familiar buzz of elation and liberation that cycling always gave her. Philippe led the way, his powerful legs pumping rhythmically. Kat was pleased to see she was keeping up better than she expected, but knew she had some training to do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The gate to the property was ajar, and they cycled straight in.

  The gravel tracks of the driveway looked a bit worse for wear—proof that there had been quite a bit of activity while Katherine was gone. She held her breath as she neared the end of the shrub borders and the villa came into view.

  She wasn’t certain whether to be pleased or horrified as she viewed the scene before her. Two dumpsters were filled to overflowing with all manner of building materials. The exterior of the villa looked as sadly deteriorating as when she had first fallen in love with it.

  Philippe indicated they should lean their bikes against a large oak tree. They unclipped their helmets, hanging them on the handlebars. Kat bent down and shook her head to tousle her hair, running her fingers through it.

  Philippe playfully reached over and ruffled her hair. “Ne t’inquiète pas. You look beautiful even with helmet hair! You taught me that phrase, you know.”

  They laughed together as they walked to the villa, hand in hand, and Katherine tried to quell her disappointment.

  The double main entrance doors swung open, and Didier stood before them, covered in dust from his hardhat perched on top of his beret to his work boots. His smile beamed even more brightly than usual, in contrast to the gray of his plaster-covered skin and clothing.

  “Bienvenue chez vous!” he called, his arms wide open in welcome. “Wait until you see what we have done!”

  He walked over to Katherine and reached for her hand. “May I?” he asked as he bowed and kissed it in the most polite way. “Close your eyes, s’il vous plait! Let me bring you in.”