Katherine returned the intense look as only the best of friends can. She knew Molly was right. She knew there was no point in dragging out the process any longer.
Neither blinked. “As they say, poop or get off the pot,” Molly continued. “See how I’ve cleaned up my act? Now, what’s it going to be?
Katherine shook her head and laughed. “Trust you to take a serious moment and make me laugh.”
“Never mind. That was just minor comedic relief. I’m waiting for your answer.”
“I’m close to knowing. With certainty. Philippe has been patient beyond words, and after the time we spent with Simone the other day, I feel like the truth is staring me in the face.”
Molly gave Kat a wide-eyed questioning look and spread her hands out, palms up. “So?”
“So, I’m glad you’re here to push me.”
“I’m waiting. We can talk about it anytime.”
Reaching for Molly’s hands, Kat clasped them in hers. “And we will.”
Accepting this was the end of the conversation for now.
Molly changed her tone. “I can’t believe we’re sitting here chatting in this little café in the South of France, once again,” she said with an enormous grin.
Katherine blew out a big sigh. “I’m so relieved you’re here at all. You gave us quite a scare!”
Molly’s eyes filled with tears. “How can I ever thank you for all you’ve done? For coming back to Toronto and making sure everything was handled properly. For taking care of me when there really was no one else. For bringing Andrea and Terrence into my life, and now Philippe and Nick. Oh my God, dear, dear Nick. I’m so grateful to you for everything.”
Katherine and Molly shared an embrace of love, friendship, and gratitude. Kat reminded herself to be gentle with Molly’s still-delicate condition.
Kat smiled at her friend. “I’m going to be as trite as can be now, but that’s what friends are for. We are so lucky to have each other.”
Molly nodded, wiping her eyes.
“Just don’t reunite us through a serious accident again, please and thank you.”
“I guess that’s one of the benefits of being unconscious. I didn’t know how much of a scare I gave you until much later. This accident has been a game changer for me.”
They talked about how the next few weeks might play out, made some plans, agreed that all plans were subject to change, and simply decided to have the best time together that they possibly could.
Katherine called Didier to say they would be over and that they would bring lunch. After picking up the requested baguette sandwiches, Katherine could not believe her eyes as they drove up the driveway to the villa.
A carpet of deep purple covered the gardens and much of the lawn, and spread like a flowing stream through the woodland. A sweet fragrance hung heavily in the air as Kat helped Molly out of the car.
“Wow! Just wow!” they exclaimed to each other. “What is that?”
Katherine quickly walked over and bent down to pick one of the delicate blooms. “Violets! I didn’t know we had any on the property or that they bloomed this time of year. They’ve popped open in the two days since I was last here. Look at them all!”
Didier came out to greet them, touching his fingers to his beret in respect. After Kat introduced him to Molly, she raved about the abundance of violets.
Didier’s enthusiasm matched hers. “Oui! C’est magnifique! Because the property was neglected for so many years, these violets spread with wild abandon,” he explained. “Tourrettes-sur-Loup has a fête des violettes this month. You must go! Most of their harvest goes to the perfume makers in Grasse, as they have for centuries. They are also the official flower of Toulouse and there are many fêtes all around that region this month, but that’s quite a drive.”
“Oh! We’ll go to Tourrettes for sure! It’s one of my favorite villages. When Philippe takes me for a spin into the hills on his Ducati, we often stop there. The village is atmospheric and so picturesque. Molly, the first sight of it will make your jaw drop.”
Katherine was still mesmerized by the purple haze that had taken over the property. “This is so dreamlike. I love it, don’t you, Moll?”
“Fanfrickingtastic!” Molly exclaimed.
Katherine picked up her camera from the backseat of the car and snapped away. She kept repeating that she had never seen anything quite like it.
Didier blew his whistle and proudly assembled his team before handing out the baguette sandwiches. Then he gave Molly and Kat a tour of all that had been done so far. While Kat continued to fill her camera chip with the dreamlike purple haze carpeting the property, he showed Molly the drawings of what was to come.
Molly could not contain her enthusiasm. “Even in this state of disrepair, it’s easy to see what a special place this will be. You can feel the history and the character everywhere, and the garden is magic—simply magic. I’ve never seen so much purple! I want to come back and help you plant and dig and weed and all that, Kat. Promise me I can do that!”
“I promise you can come back every single time you wish,” Katherine assured her. “We’re always going to have plenty of room for company. That’s something Philippe and I both are excited about. He’s such a people person and never really had the chance to enjoy that in his own home. You know how everyone loves him at the market.”
Molly nodded. “Tomorrow we’ll have to go there.”
“For sure, we can head there after your physio,” Kat agreed. “And I’m serious about you making a list. I want to do everything you want. Oh, and we’ve got some projects to put you to work on too. I’m not kidding!”
“Whatever you want. I’m at your disposal, mon amie,” Molly answered.
Kat and Molly settled on a bench with their sandwiches in a sheltered sunny spot in the garden. They breathed in the fragrance of the violets, exclaiming repeatedly in pleasure.
“I guess Philippe knows about this and doesn’t think it’s such a big deal,” Kat speculated. “It’ll be interesting to see what he says.”
“I bet he wanted you to be surprised,” Molly suggested.
“Why didn’t I think of that? That would be just like him.” Kat smiled knowingly.
Molly nodded in between bites. “What is it about baguette sandwiches that makes them taste so delicious with just a simple slice of cheese and ham? Actually, I’m not looking for an answer. That was purely rhetorical. I know the French discovered the secret for the most delicious bread in the world centuries ago.”
Katherine grinned and mumbled her agreement, her mouth full.
Molly went on in rapture, “Mmmmm . . . frickin’. . . mmmmm! Color me happy!”
The days passed quickly, with physiotherapy sessions every morning. Molly had bonded well with Claire, the well-trained woman in charge of her program. Her gentle persuasion kept Molly disciplined in doing interval exercises at home, and the results were showing.
Katherine was firm in reminding excitable Molly to take things slowly. Even though they were thrilled to be together and eagerly anticipated the adventures that awaited them, they also knew it was important to rest. Everything would happen in due course.
Simone asked Kat to bring Molly over for tea and madeleines, and that became a part of their weekly routine.
The weather had not been conducive to most excursions anyway. “Let’s give spring a little more time to settle in,” Kat rationalized. “I’m so glad you’ll be here to experience that.”
Molly had countered by saying the weather was a major improvement compared to what she’d left behind in Toronto. Philippe enjoyed agreeing thoroughly with that.
The next Monday they drove up to Tourrettes-sur-Loup with Philippe and Gilles to enjoy the fête des violettes. The festival lasted throughout March, with a focus on all the edible possibilities one could create with violets. Molly and Kat agreed that the violet ice cream had been their favorite.
Along the way, Kat and Philippe continued a conversation they had been havin
g since Kat discovered the violets at the villa. Philippe hadn’t told her about them because he wanted her to have precisely the reaction she did.
“You’re the best surprise maker! Thank you again for that one, it was fabulous!”
Philippe grinned. “I’ve been thinking about your idea for a name for the villa. Tu as raison, Minou. You’re right. I like it!”
Katherine reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “I love it too! Molly, what do you think? Gilles? Do we have a unanimous vote?”
Villa des Violettes would be the name of the restored villa.
Much of Molly’s time was spent reading and relaxing while Kat worked on her photography files. They also began developing the FromageGraphie website together, and the more they planned, the more excited Kat and Philippe became about the possibilities. A summer launch was their target.
Molly was intrigued by their ideas for the website. She threw herself into investigating layouts and formats while Katherine kept busy planning for her debut in the photography exhibit. The three of them shared a lot of laughter and good ideas as they tossed around concepts that would marry the themes of cheese and photography.
Molly spoke with Tony almost every day on Skype. Often, Katherine and Philippe were invited to join in.
Katherine avoided having any discussion with Molly about Tony, other than to regularly say what an impressive man he was and how much she liked his company. Molly always agreed and then changed the subject.
“Everyone looks for happiness. I mean, why wouldn’t we? But we each find it in different ways. Look at what you thought made you happy for so many years and compare it to what makes you happy now. Wow! I’m happy to simply be alive, and for now, that’s all I need.”
“I think she does that from habit,” Katherine commented to Philippe one night in bed. “She’d had to keep him secret for so long, it just comes naturally now. Besides, she doesn’t know that we’re aware of their relationship.”
“I think it’s time you encouraged her to talk about it,” Philippe said. “Let her know Tony spoke to us. I’m in touch with him a fair bit, so I’ll check to see if the time is right to begin the conversation.”
The opening night of André’s art exhibit, titled Les Images de Nos Rêves/The Images of Our Dreams, was the Friday of Molly’s second week. Invitations had been sent, but it was also open to the public so no one would feel unwelcome.
Attendance was overwhelming, and André swore every person from Antibes was there. “I always have been fortunate to have good attendance at all of our exhibits, but this is exceptional,” he kept repeating.
Many of Katherine and Philippe’s friends from Nice came, including the Johnstons, who brought some friends. Almost all the women from Katherine’s expat walking group arrived together. She was constantly touched by enthusiastic support. They were also eager to meet Molly, inviting her to join them as soon as she could.
Henri and Sylvie drove down from Roussillon and brought best wishes from Joy and Oncle François, with instructions to take many photos and bring them back for their consideration. “François is determined for one of your photos to grace his wall, Kat.”
Kat replied, “Tell him everything was sold. I’m going to do something especially for him, as a gift. But don’t tell him that part.”
Before the end of the evening, several pieces on display—including two of Katherine’s five entries—had been purchased. She was floating on air and kept insisting Philippe assure her that he had not been the buyer.
The exhibit would last for two weeks, and Katherine had committed to spending time there each day. The more time she spent speaking with photographers and people who were interested in seeing the exhibit, the more she felt herself making her hobby a serious component of her life.
The thought excited her more than she had anticipated. Another new chapter in her life was beginning.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
By the last weekend in March, Molly was walking with just a hint of a limp. Her shoulder was also responding well to treatment, and it looked like she would have a full range of motion, after initial doubts. Her hard work was paying off.
She also was finally given permission by Claire to stroll the cobblestone streets. Molly was instructed to be careful and to bring along her cane if she felt it was necessary. They knew she wasn’t about to take any foolish chances.
“There’s no frickin’ way I want to go through this again,” Molly assured Claire and everyone else within earshot. After a few wanderings with Katherine and Rococo, she felt stable and confident.
Now Kat and Molly were able to enjoy hilltop lunches as they browsed along the cobblestone lanes of Eze and Saint-Paul-de-Vence. They lingered over portside seafood snacks in Molly’s favorite town of Villefranche-sur-Mer. Often, they ambled along the Prom in Nice after meeting Véronique for coffee or took restorative strolls along the sandy beaches of Juan-les-Pins to build up Molly’s strength.
“Katski, I’d forgotten how close all these exquisite places are. Why would you not want to be here, I ask you! I could be persuaded without any effort!”
There had been many opportunities for long conversations.
One day, as Molly was telling Katherine how thrilled she was that Kat and Philippe had fallen in love, Katherine broached the subject of Molly’s love life.
“Molly, I know you’ve always told me you weren’t interested in the dating scene. I didn’t see you a lot for many years, and the only time you mentioned anyone in your life was, as you described him, your Italian lover, Antonio—your friend with benefits. Didn’t you ever date anyone else?”
Molly said nothing for a few seconds, bobbing her head around as they continued walking. She pulled her jacket a little more tightly around her, even though it was quite a warm day.
Looking straight ahead, she began, “Okay, Katski, here’s the condensed version of my dating life. Prepare to be amused.”
Katherine knew if anyone could spin the dating scene into a comedy routine, it would be Molly. “I’m ready, Moll. Don’t hold back.”
Molly cleared her throat and took a deep breath, which she then immediately blew out. “A few years ago, I enrolled on LFL—Looking for Love—an online dating website. Besides a bunch of total assholes, there really are a lot of sincere people on the site who are looking for a good match.”
She paused and met Katherine’s gaze. “Even though everyone says they don’t have baggage, each person lugs at least one Samsonite along with them. Anyone over six feet does not lie about his height. Otherwise, short men exaggerate by two or three inches, and you find yourself kissing the tops of their bald heads.”
Kat snorted.
Molly screwed her face into an exaggerated grimace before rolling her eyes and continuing. “There are all kinds of guys looking for all kinds of different connections. Some want to book the church after the first meet and greet. Others, as soon as they meet you, give you the Italian once-over from head to toe, then their eyes glaze over and they’re polite for the requisite half hour. You never hear from them again. It’s a lot like high school. The ones that like you, you don’t like, and the ones you don’t like, stalk you. You’ve got to kiss a lot of frogs to get to a prince.”
Katherine chuckled. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. It sounds pretty awful.”
“And don’t get me started on the subject of kissing . . .” Molly opened her mouth, stuck two fingers partway in and made a loud gagging sound.
Kat was laughing again before she said, “Getting serious for a minute, Moll, I suppose it’s important not to invest all your hopes in the possibilities.”
“Absofrickinlutely! You really have to remember that these websites are simply an avenue to meet a person of interest and then see where that goes. A lot of the men I met told me the same stories about women not looking anything like their profile picture. That’s what impressed a lot of guys about me. What they saw was what they got.”
“I can only begin to imagine what it
was like,” Katherine said. “I’m thankful I didn’t have to go through that. I’m not sure I could.”
Molly looked at Katherine with a frustrated expression. “It wears you down, Katski, and within no time, it’s no fun. I met some guys who looked nothing like their profile photo. Ten years older, twenty pounds heavier and—oh, you thought I wouldn’t notice—half a head of hair lighter. Or they say they don’t smoke, but there’s a photo in their profile where they have a cigarette in their hand. Or, a real classic, the guy who posted photos of himself cleaning fish, with blood and guts all over the place—including himself.”
Kat snorted at that last remark, and Molly gave her an exaggerated eye roll as she shook her head.
“But that’s just me. I know a few women at work who have met great guys. Two have even gotten married.”
By this time they had reached the ramparts that ran along the coast. They stopped and looked down at the Plage de La Gravette, the picturesque beach they liked best. Molly sighed and said, “You know, it looks inviting even though I know it’s freezing right now. We sure had a few good days floating in that beautiful cove.”
“And we’ll have some more. You’ll just have to come back again in the summer.”
They turned and began walking along the ramparts toward the apartment. “So, getting back to online dating—did you ever meet anyone interesting?”
“Sure. I met some guys who were nice, kind, fun, even interesting . . . but not necessarily for me. Most of the time on dates I sat looking through guys, trying to be polite, so I could get out of wherever we were as soon as possible. It doesn’t take great intuition to know when a guy is going to ask for another date. Whenever I sensed that coming, I would excuse myself to the ladies’ room, throw cold water on my face, give myself a pep talk, and go back out with my standard response ready.”
“Which was?” Katherine asked.
“After they popped the question, I would look at them sweetly and say, ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’”
I Promise You This (Love in Provence Book 3) Page 25
