“Bring him for a look, if you like! I will be here tomorrow from noon to five and all day Monday. Come back with your husband.”
Katherine started to say, “He’s not my husband . . .” but then caught herself in time. She had liked the way that sounded when Delphine said it. “C’est possible,” Kat answered, but in her heart she was pretty sure Philippe would want to go with the breeder.
Annette was looking at all the other crates and making sympathetic comments as little paws poked through the wires or noses pressed against. “There are so many adorable animals here, how does one choose?”
“I know,” Kat agreed. “It’s so tempting. Maybe we should have a cat too!”
“So how about Mademoiselle Felicette?” Delphine asked Annette. “Do you think your mother would be happy with her?”
“Yes, I do. I will take her to visit my mother and tell Maman I am looking after her for a while because she needs a home. Then I’ll see what happens. Hopefully she will have the idea herself. Wouldn’t that be perfect?”
“Good idea! Since you talked with Monsieur Albert yesterday, he had me get all the papers together about her shots. She is ready to go home with you right now, if you like.”
“I might want to keep her myself,” Annette said, handing the docile cat—now purring contentedly—to Katherine. “I’ll go out to the car and get the travel carrier for her.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
All the way back to Antibes, Annette kept thanking Katherine. “I can’t believe how that worked out! All because of your good idea. Thanks, Kat!”
Felicette had settled into the carrier in the backseat and occasionally emitted soft mewing sounds. Katherine reached back from time to time and rubbed the top of the cat’s head with her fingers.
Katherine smiled. “It was someone else’s good idea, but I’m glad I thought to mention it. See you next week at yoga, and I hope there will be no new bruises.”
“Well, I guess we can’t expect that to stop instantly . . . or can we? Anyway, I’m taking your advice to have Thibaud go with me when he can, and hopefully, one way or another, the situation will improve. Thank you for encouraging me to be more open in talking to him.”
When they arrived in front of Kat’s apartment, Kat got out of the car and told her, “Fingers crossed, as we like to say in English. Let me know what happens. I can’t wait to hear all about your mother’s reaction.”
Katherine took the stairs two at a time and was disappointed that Philippe was not home. A note on the table said Didier had called him over to the Cap and he would be back soon.
She checked her e-mails and was pleased to see one from Molly that was full of her zany humor. The rehab treatments were to begin the next day. Molly sent a copy of the schedule that included arm and shoulder work in the morning and speech in the afternoon.
“Important news about my leg,” she wrote. “I’ll be getting a walking cast in two more weeks and will only need to use the wheelchair for long distances. I should only need the walking cast for two weeks and then will require physio to strengthen the muscles. I can’t wait to get back to my completely perfect and awesome self. Hahaha!”
She also told Katherine that Nick had the rehab schedule as well and would e-mail them both when he heard back from the treatment center in Nice.
Her message ended, “I can’t wait to come to Antibes! Counting the days!”
Katherine and Philippe were looking forward to having Molly stay with them.
In addition, while they had been at the hospital with Molly, they’d gotten around to talking about the FromageGraphie website they were planning to set up, and Molly had offered to help. She had become quite adept at establishing websites for her serious music students during the past couple of years and thought she could at least get their idea started online.
Philippe walked in to the apartment as Kat was writing her reply to Molly’s message. “Tell her to give our love to Tony,” he teased.
Katherine squinted her eyes and shot him a look. “Don’t joke about that. We can’t mention it to Molly yet. I just hope it all works out for them.”
Katherine and Philippe were still trying to process their conversation with Tony at the hospital.
“That was heavy,” Philippe had commented to Katherine on that particular day and many others thereafter.
Katherine agreed. “It’s clear how we tend to forget priests are normal people too.”
Katherine had downloaded a book written by a priest in Florida who had gone through a similar situation. She remembered reading about it in the papers a few years earlier. She told Philippe she thought the book was well written and gave tremendous insight into the whole delicate quandary.
They both agreed that there had been no doubt in their minds of Tony and Molly’s love for each other. Their interactions during Molly’s hospital stay had made that obvious.
“I like Tony very much,” Philippe told Kat, and she agreed. “Time will tell what happens, but I want to give them all the support they need. Everyone deserves to be happy.”
“No question, I wish everyone could be as happy as we are!” Kat said, reaching up to kiss Philippe’s cheek.
“Do we have an arrival date for our Molly yet?” he asked.
“Not yet, but they’re working on it. What’s happening at the villa? Why did Didier call?”
“He wanted me to look at a new idea he has for the kitchen. It involves taking down another wall but will give us some very nice extra space. I told him to wait until you take a look too, but I think you are going to be pleased with his plan.”
They chatted a bit about Didier’s unconventional approach to construction and renovation. “Somehow he just seems to know what to do, even when he looks like he doesn’t. Dust and debris can be everywhere one day, and the next, he and his Basque brigade are making order out of chaos,” Philippe said. “But I also know he’s very well trained and comes highly recommended.”
“We’ll just have to trust he’s up to the task. He has the sweetest nature, and I love how he always wears his beret and blows his whistle when he wants the other guys’ attention.”
“Maybe I should start wearing a beret,” Philippe suggested.
“Non, mon amour, you are already too irresistible to me! Let’s get ready to go to Nice. I can’t wait to see Véronique and David and collect Anyu’s carpet from them too.”
Philippe reached for her hand. “Hanging the rug will be a memorable moment for us.”
Katherine felt herself fill with emotion at the thought. She nodded silently. Then she said, “Oh, and I have an interesting story to tell you on the way.”
Philippe chuckled as he headed for the shower. “When don’t you have an interesting story for me, Minou?”
As they drove slowly in the heavy traffic along the Bord de Mer, Katherine talked about how her priority was to prepare for André’s photography exhibit, just three weeks away.
“What do you think about the pieces we’ve chosen to show? We haven’t had much of a chance to talk about them.”
Philippe praised the choices, and Katherine said that tonight she and Véronique were going to explore how they should best be mounted. Ultimately, the decision would be André’s, but Katherine wanted a second opinion.
Philippe nodded. “With all of Véronique’s experience in the arts, I’m sure she will have some good ideas. Are you going to enter the spring exhibition in Nice that she mentioned to you?”
Katherine admitted how nervous she was about taking this new step with her photography. “I’m going to wait until André’s show is over and see how I feel about it.”
Philippe patted her knee. “I believe you are going to be pleasantly surprised at the response. Just you wait and see! And Molly might be here for it too. Even more fun!”
They drove in contented silence for a few minutes, except for the occasional sigh of pleasure from Kat at the passing scenery along the coast. She always said there was something special about the way the p
inkish rays of the setting sun brushed the sea. Finally she murmured, “I’m never going to get tired of this. Never, ever, ever. Pas de tout!”
Philippe smiled, inside and out. He said nothing but knew in his heart Kat’s insecurities were melting away. He loved how she loved this land he loved.
“Oh, oh, oh!” Kat cried. “How could I forget to tell you my story? You know how I went to Mougins with Annette this afternoon?”
“Yes, of course. You went to see about a cat for her mother.”
“Well, first of all, it was wonderful just to do that drive again. It’s been a little while since we were there.”
“Mm-hmm,” Philippe agreed. “We should go again soon. Lunch at L’Amandier, oui?”
“Bonne idée! How about tomorrow after the market closes?”
“You’re not wasting any time!”
“Well, there’s something else I’d like to show you while we’re there.”
“C’est quoi? Or is it a secret?”
Suddenly she blurted, “I can’t keep it a secret—and maybe you aren’t even interested—but . . . well . . .”
“Minou, you’re keeping me in suspense. Let me guess, you visited a gallery and there’s a painting you would like us to buy.”
“No.”
“Some antique furniture?”
“No.”
“There’s a house you would like us to buy.”
“Now, that’s just silly.”
“I’ve got it! An original photograph of Picasso in his underwear!”
“Very funny.” Kat laughed. “But now I’m not telling you. It’ll have to wait until we get there.”
For the rest of the drive, Philippe teased her with ever more imaginative guesses. Soon they were pulling into the underground parking garage near Véronique and David’s pied-à-terre in the vieille ville of Nice.
They had become close friends with the Johnstons and spent many a pleasant evening sharing one of David’s gourmet meals. He was the chef in the family and loved to entertain.
“Bienvenue, Katherine! Welcome home! You were missed.”
“Let’s begin with champagne to toast the news about your friend Molly’s recovery. We’re looking forward to meeting her when she comes to France.”
Katherine and Philippe told them about their time together in Toronto. Philippe raved about the cleanliness of the city and the efficient transit system. “Of course, with the subarctic temperatures, it felt like dogsleds would be more fitting. Mon Dieu!”
American-born David teased Philippe about some aspects of life in Canada that differed from France. Philippe laughed and admitted his greatest challenge was understanding conversations since everyone spoke so quickly.
“The shoe was on the other foot,” Kat agreed sympathetically.
“And what about la Saint-Valentin? Mon Dieu!” Philippe exclaimed to David. “It was January and there were already valentines all over the place. Shop windows were full of hearts and flowers and treats. It looked more like la fête de Noël!”
David shook his head in disgust. “It’s out of control in North America, like all the holidays! In France it’s a low-key expression between you and your true love, with no kids involved and no anxious moments with schoolchildren checking to see if they got as many cards as everyone else!”
Nodding agreement, Philippe added, “Here we just take our loved one out for dinner or give flowers—preferably a red rose.”
Véronique snorted, “Oh, we know about that. Oui, David?” Turning to Katherine, she said, “He gave me yellow roses on our first Saint-Valentin together—and they represent infidelity!”
“I didn’t know! I thought they were beautiful,” protested David. “And she still won’t let me forget!”
They all laughed and raised their glasses to love.
Since David had been caught up in business affairs all day, he hadn’t been able to cook. “So we’re going over to the vieux port for moules frites. How does that sound? And since rain is still threatening, I’ll drive.”
They all agreed they would never turn down a good feast of mussels and frites down at the lively old port.
As they were saying good-bye at the end of the evening, Philippe said, “We’re planning to go to Mougins for lunch at L’Amandier tomorrow. Why don’t you join us? I’m going to leave the market a bit early.”
“We haven’t been up to Mougins for ages,” David said. “I miss that foodie heaven, now that you mention it.”
Kat and Véronique enthusiastically agreed in unison.
“We’ll swing by and pick you up just before noon,” David suggested.
Katherine wondered how they would all react to her surprise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Kat met Philippe at the market for a brisk walk home. “It will prepare us for the gustatory challenge ahead,” Philippe teased.
“I think it was Julia Child who stated something to the effect that eating in France is a serious art form as well as a national sport,” Kat said.
Philippe chuckled and nodded in agreement.
“Even though the weather looks good today, that drop in temperature tells me something nasty might be blowing in,” Philippe said as he took Katherine’s hand.
“Your predictions are usually correct, Monsieur LaMétéo.”
They were waiting outside their building when the Johnstons arrived to collect them.
Lunch at L’Amandier was always a special event, and the four friends were excited to be on their way.
Blue sky and bright sunshine were the perfect combination for the drive up to the medieval hilltop village. The women oohed and aahed at the vistas before them, and the men agreed it was worthy of their gushing.
“Sometimes we take these surroundings of ours for granted,” David commented. “Don’t ever lose your enthusiasm, Kat. You can see Véronique never has!”
They all agreed that coming to Mougins was a fine idea and then plied Katherine with questions as to when she would reveal her surprise for them.
“First we dine,” she replied with a teasing grin, “and then we shall see what we shall see.”
The cuisine de soleil menu focused on the scents of the garrigue and featured fine traditional recipes from Nice and its surroundings. There was always something new and enticing on the menu, as well as favorites that people returned for time and time again.
David described some of the experiences he’d had in their famous cooking school and explained some of the history to Kat when she asked. “It started with the renowned chef Roger Vergé in 1977, and then Alain Ducasse took over. Many of the world’s top chefs spent time here learning Provençal cooking methods. Now new owners are carrying on the traditions.”
Véronique added, “Actually, Vergé had opened Le Moulin de Mougins a few years before L’Amandier, in a nearby sixteenth-century mill. It often took months to get a reservation at the small auberge.”
It was too chilly to sit on the terrace, so the foursome sat at a table in the main dining room, with its intricate mosaics and fine Provençal materials. Near the windows, the panoramic view across the rolling hills could still be appreciated from inside.
“This room fills me with such rapture,” Véronique murmured, looking around fondly. “The first time we came here . . .”
“At least thirty years ago, I might add,” David interjected.
Véronique smiled nostalgically. “So true! I was so inspired by the combination of colors and textures—they were a major influence in one of my earliest weavings. Even though renovation and redecoration have occurred through the decades, the mood has never changed.”
David and Philippe agreed that through the years, they seldom came to the restaurant after dark. “Like so many experiences in the South of France, the light and view are equally important factors. Coming here during daylight only enhances the experience.”
They all selected the menu du chef and were not disappointed. A delicate amuse-bouche of poached quail egg with a sliver of smoked salmon
on its own spoon began the meal. Next they were served classic stuffed zucchini flowers with creamy mushroom butter. The main course, risotto milanese with grilled prawn and fennel sauce, was presented with a flourish as silver lids were lifted simultaneously from the four plates.
“I may faint from the heavenly aroma wafting up from this plate,” David commented, to murmurs of agreement around the table.
Dessert was a fine lemon tart with caramelized meringue and a dollop of triple-cream vanilla ice cream that sent them all into euphoric exclamations.
Even the cheese tray received accolades from Philippe.
As they began to drive out of the village, Katherine asked David to slow down and make a left turn at the “Refuge des Animaux” sign. They all gave her a strange look, but David followed instructions.
“Come with me, please,” Katherine invited them once he had parked.
They stared in amazement as Katherine was warmly greeted by Delphine, whose attire and makeup were even more dramatic than the previous day.
“I was hoping you would return!” Delphine burbled with pleasure. She nodded politely as Katherine made introductions. “Would you like me to bring the babies out here?” she asked. “It will be more comfortable for all of you.”
David was suddenly eager to see everything. “Let’s go back and see all of the animals. I’ve been thinking about getting a pet lately myself.”
Véronique nodded and said, “This is very coincidental. We’ve been talking for ages but haven’t gotten around to doing anything.”
Kat explained she had come with Annette. “She’s been talking about adopting a rescue cat for a while and asked me to come with her.”
Turning to Philippe, Kat said, “This is the surprise. No pressure, honnêtement . . .”
Philippe wore a startled expression. “I never would have guessed this was your secret in Mougins! I was certain you had your eye on some art! You want to get a cat?”
Kat replied somewhat nervously, suddenly worried that this hadn’t been the best idea. “Not a cat. But possibly the gift you offered me at Noël.”
I Promise You This (Love in Provence Book 3) Page 21
