Bernadette opened the door of the Rolls and, with a flourish, invited the bride and groom to climb in. “Félicitations, Madame et Monsieur Dufours! Meilleurs voeux pour votre mariage. Je vous souhaites tout le bonheur du monde!”
All the happiness in the world, Katherine thought. Yes, I would agree that we couldn’t be off to a better beginning.
The stately vehicle did a small tour of the town’s wider streets, horn honking, as the French loved to do. Then, to Kat’s surprise, they turned up the road to the Cap. She wondered where Bernadette was taking them on such a circuitous route. “She probably wants to show off this fantastic car to everyone,” she commented to Philippe. He smiled and nodded. “Bien sûr!”
To Kat’s surprise, Bernadette headed toward their property. The gates were wide open and festooned with floral ropes and lavish wreaths. This was almost more than Katherine could handle, “You mean those tapes this morning . . . your story about floor tiles . . . none of it was true?”
Philippe’s eyes crinkled with delight. “Attends, mon amour. Just wait.”
Time stood still for Kat. She found herself lost in Philippe’s gaze. Every nerve tingled with delight, assuring her she had never felt so loved or been so in love before. Her fingers lingered on his cheek. The familiar touch of the light stubble on his face excited her, and she suddenly was reminded that she would wake up beside this beautiful man every day for the rest of her life.
Philippe took her hand, slowly kissing each fingertip before their lips pressed hotly together. Kat gasped as his fingers curled into her hair and he pulled her to him. Her arms went around him. She could feel his muscles, hard and strong, as their bodies melted into each other. Katherine felt intoxicated as their lips continued a delicious dance of ecstasy. Slowly, they pulled away from each other and leaned back against the seat.
Katherine rested her head on Philippe’s shoulder, catching her breath.
“Je t’aime, je t’aime . . .” Philippe whispered, his lips brushing her hair. Katherine repeated his words, and they sat in luscious silence.
As the car slowly came to a stop at the front entrance, Katherine fixed her hair and straightened her dress. Philippe brushed a few strands from her face as she straightened his jacket and tie. They could not stop smiling.
Bernadette announced that they had arrived. “Alors, nous sommes chez vous!”
Kat could see the villa had been transformed since that morning. Enormous urns, overflowing with flowers and vines, lined the entrance. A long, beautifully painted banner reading “Villa des Violettes ~ Amour Vit Ici/Love Lives Here” hung across the double doors.
Standing on the front terrace were Didier and his équipe: Auguste, Alphonse, and Alesander, all spruced up in ironed jeans and dress shirts. All wearing new berets.
Didier proudly attended to the car door, while Auguste rolled out a carpet over the tiles. With a grand sweep of their arms, the brothers threw open the doors to the villa.
A loud “Surprise!” in both French and English rang through the air as Kat and Philippe walked into the entrance hall and main salon. The limos had obviously gone straight to the property and dropped everyone there.
The space had been transformed into a magical forest of trees and plants. The theme had been painted in trompe l’oeil over the walls.
The party was on.
André wandered through the crowd, taking photos. Adorée’s friends were circulating with trays of appetizers and drinks. Emile waved from behind a table where crostini, tapenades, and foie gras were being served.
Philippe whispered to Katherine, “This is where Adorée and her friends were all night. Some of them came here during the week and worked with Didier and the guys. I had no idea what they were up to with all these decorations. Véronique oversaw everything, and Simone even came over to help with some painting ideas. C’est fantastique!”
“So that’s why Molly and Tony insisted I go on the road trip to Avignon with them this week. You were all plotting behind my back.”
Kat hugged Philippe with all of her might as every emotion she could imagine swirled through her. “For the lack of surprises in my life before you, you have more than made up for them. I can never thank you enough. Je t’adore . . . tu es l’amour de ma vie.”
“You’ve thanked me for everything by becoming my wife. Madame Katherine Dufours, pour toujours et à jamais, forever and always.” They lingered in an embrace before mingling with their guests.
Katherine, Andrea, and Molly found a quiet corner to share hugs. Holding their hands, Kat said, “There are moments when I have to remind myself I’m not dreaming. I can’t believe the three of us are here, living this day together.”
Molly was struggling to control her emotions as Andrea replied, “When I think back to this time last year, I’m reminded that we never know where life is going to lead us. I couldn’t be more thrilled for you, Kat. I feel your true destiny is just beginning. This kind of happiness was a long time coming.”
Katherine kissed her cousin’s cheek before the three friends squeezed each other tightly. Then she turned to Molly, who was still fighting back tears. “Molly! No more tears. I’ve been the crybaby lately, not you!”
Molly bit her lower lip and nodded vigorously before she spoke. “Right, Katski. I haven’t cried these kind of happy tears in all my life. It’s just all been so fu . . . so frickin’ beautiful.”
Andrea took tissues from her purse and passed them around. Katherine murmured, “I’ve learned so much from both of you this past year. You helped me to believe in life again, to believe in myself, and to take chances. True friends—that’s what you are. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, and that’s never going to change.”
“Never,” they all said in unison.
“I love you guys,” Kat said, her voice quivering.
“Me more,” Andrea insisted with a grin.
“Fuckin’ A!” was Molly’s response, through her tears. They all laughed uproariously as she explained, “I just said that for effect; one last f-bomb, for old times’ sake.”
Molly wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and continued, “Remember when you were so conflicted about making your home here?”
Katherine nodded.
“Well, I’ve watched you for the last two months, and may I just say this. Your. Home. Is. Here. No question! And it’s a home with more affection, tenderness, joy, and fun—more amour—than I’ve ever seen. I love it . . . and I love you and I love Philippe and I love that at this stage in our lives we can begin again.”
Now Kat and Molly hugged each other and rocked back and forth before they pulled Andrea into their arms.
“It’s a hell of a story, Katski. I can’t wait to see what happens next.”
After an hour or so, the sound of a soft gong interrupted the festivities. Giving it one more tap as he stood in the middle of the room, Didier announced, “Le repas de noce.”
The painted papers that covered the doors to the back gardens were taken down by assorted guests obviously in the know, and the shutters were opened.
A fairy-tale setting greeted Kat’s eyes. On the lawn, three long tables were covered in white linen and set for a meal with colorful Provençal dishes and rainbow-hued glassware from Biot. Stunning floral arrangements overflowed from pots and containers on the ground as well as hanging from hooked holders.
White fabric-covered chairs, trimmed with blue ribbon, lined the tables. Some chairs were also scattered in groupings about the garden to create intimate spaces. On one corner of the terrace, Katherine and Philippe’s bicycles were looped together and festooned with ribbons and flowers. Not a detail had been missed.
Kat could not stop gasping as she and Philippe stood arm in arm. “This is my simple mariage à la mairie?”
“Oui, mon amour, Minou, Madame Dufours . . . c’est ça!” His smile expressed his joy.
The air was scented with the sweet fragrance of lilacs, peonies, and gardenias from the garden combined with the vases of les muguets
—lily of the valley—decorating the tables.
Nick invited everyone to search for their place cards. Seating had been carefully arranged so that the guests were placed both with someone they knew and with someone they didn’t. He wanted them to mix, and so far that had been very successful.
Mouthwatering aromas drifted from large grills set up on a far section of the lawn and Katherine gasped as Antoine and Hélène waved to her, obviously busy supervising cooking staff.
When people had discovered their chairs and the laughter eased, Adorée welcomed them all and introduced Nick as the master of ceremonies. Nick gave a brief introduction of how he, Katherine, and Philippe all became friends. As usual, he had everyone laughing in no time. Then they all cheered as he invited them to toast the newlyweds one more time. Next, he introduced Tony and asked him to give thanks for this day and for the meal.
Platters of food arrived at each table. The service was family style, which only increased the level of conversation and laughter. Gasps of delight could be heard throughout the garden as delectable offerings arrived. Artistic presentations tempted the eye, and irresistible aromas wafted through the air.
Grilled fish, chicken, and lamb were accompanied by roasted vegetables and an assortment of green salads. Baguette, olive oil, and olives were within easy reach of every diner. Umbrellas provided shade for those who wished it, and the late-afternoon sun warmed the bucolic scene. Conversation and laughter filled the air, and Kat and Philippe took turns sitting in chairs left empty for them at each table.
As the sun began to set, candlelight created an even more romantic mood, and heaters kept the temperature comfortable. Mother Nature appeared to be an invited guest, as conditions were faultless.
The cheese course was served on olivewood boards and accompanied by bravos of admiration. Philippe had outdone himself and proudly stood to take a few bows.
Soon after, the fading light was suddenly ablaze with sparklers and on cue, a chant arose. “Le gâteau! Le gâteau! Le gâteau!”
Bearing a large silver tray on each of their shoulders, Auguste, Alfonso, and Alesander paraded around the tables with this spectacular traditional finale to the wedding feast. Antoine and Hélène modestly waved from the terrace as everyone recognized their artistry.
The guests cheered and applauded the three elaborate, towering croquembouche, dripping in caramelized spun sugar. Small fireworks shot up from the trays, and sparklers were set in between the crème-filled puff pastries. A tray was set on each table as the fireworks slowly fizzled.
“The surprises never stop!” Katherine exclaimed, beaming. Philippe took her hand to stand with him, and they fed a few pieces to each other—to more cheers—before the dessert was served to the rest of the celebrants.
Nick invited anyone who wished to give a speech to do so. “However, I’ll warn you that a three-minute time limit will be seriously monitored by Mademoiselle Molly Malone. We all know you don’t mess with Molly!” he finished with a wide grin as Molly stood and flexed her muscles.
There were memories, good wishes, and toasts shared by many, in both languages and sometimes with hilarious translation. Tissues were passed around to wipe tears that alternated between laughter and the warmest of sentiments. Katherine was filled with bliss. She and Philippe could barely look at each other, their emotions were so charged.
The simple act of having their arms around each other or holding hands transferred ecstasy between them beyond any words.
Finally, it was their turn.
“We thank each and every one of you for being here with us today. Your presence and your friendship have made this the most special day.” Katherine’s heart swelled with gratitude. Her face glowed. She had a sense of floating above the magical setting, as if in a dream. She paused to collect herself and contain the elation flooding through her. “I had no inkling my extraordinary husband, mon mari extraordinaire, had planned this unforgettable surprise. Thank you to everyone who transformed our construction site into this enchanting experience. Being here with all of you and marrying this man I adore is the best and most meaningful time of my life.” She finished with two sentences in her new language, thanking their French friends and family for welcoming her into their hearts.
As they stood arm in arm, Philippe spoke next. His eyes sparkled as he eloquently expressed the elation he was feeling, alternating in French and English. “There’s a Provençal saying, ‘Au mois de mai, fais ce qu’il te plait. In the month of May, do what pleases you.’ I promise you this: nothing will ever please me more than marrying this most special woman today. She is beautiful both inside and out. We will never forget these moments we are celebrating with you now. Thank you for sharing our joy.”
Taking Kat’s hand, he led her to the terrace, near where a small jazz combo had set up. Molly walked over to the band and picked up a microphone. The first notes of “Have I Told You Lately” began, then Molly’s mellifluous voice resonated across the garden. A perfect cicada chorus provided quintessential Provençal harmony.
After a few moments, everyone was invited to join in on the dance floor.
For Philippe to have chosen this song, the moment could not have been more exquisite for Kat. No other words could have captured her feelings.
As the newlyweds danced cheek to cheek, Katherine’s eyes flickered across the terrace.
Beyond the swaying couples twirling around them, filling this moment with such love, she envisioned gossamer illusions of her mother and father dancing sweetly together. Elisabeth’s eyes met Kat’s as a smile lit her face and her head nodded in approval.
Katherine tried not to blink. She didn’t want to lose the scene her imagination was creating. She felt her parents’ presence.
Her heart was full. She felt calm, strong, and eager.
Music floated through the air and down to the sea as a brilliant pink sunset foretold the perfect ending to this day. Dawn would herald the promise of all her tomorrows.
She was home.
EPILOGUE
Her breathing became labored. “No pain, no gain,” she repeated from time to time.
Katherine could feel her muscles straining as she left the route along the coast and cycled higher into the hills above Cannes.
She and Philippe had gotten back into a regular riding schedule in the month since their wedding. Every week he pushed her to make the ride more challenging, and she was beginning to see results. She had to admit there had been times she struggled.
After the excitement of their wedding and the departure of their houseguests, life was settling into a comfortable rhythm. Kat and Philippe agreed they missed having Molly and Tony around, but they were also reveling in the privacy and quiet of their own routines.
The work on the property on the Cap was proceeding well, in spite of inevitable glitches. Kat’s photography was on permanent exhibit in André’s gallery. She and Philippe were getting closer to launching their website. For the moment, everything and everyone in her world seemed to be on a very even keel.
Today she was heading for a spot they called their “secret,” on a wild piece of vacant property tucked into a fairly built-up residential area. Vehicle traffic was minimal on the steep, narrow streets, and the view was stunning—definitely worth the effort to get there. They had yet to encounter anyone else on the land.
Kat didn’t often cycle out this way on her own, but Philippe was busy with meetings all afternoon, and she knew he might be too tired when he got home. The urge had been too strong for her to resist the ride today. Something was telling her to go.
Dripping with sweat, she reached the viewpoint and took a long swig from the water tube of her hydration pack. After peeling off her gloves and removing her helmet, she pushed her sunglasses back on her head and sprayed water on her face. It would soon be too hot for midday rides.
She took an apple and a chunk of cheese from her pack. Then she unfolded a small towel, laid it on the ground and sat on it. Alternating bites of apple and cheese, K
at felt hypnotized by the view and the contentment she felt.
From the first day she Kat arrived in the South of France, the Mediterranean had captivated her. As she often did, she allowed herself to feel like she was floating over the red-tile rooftops below her that cascaded down to the coast.
Then the hypnotic effect of the colors of the Med took hold. There was never anything ho-hum about it. The rich, vibrant azure hues ranged from the shimmering gemlike turquoise near the shore to deep cobalt as far as the eye could see. Kat was certain this feeling of wonder at the beauty she lived with daily would never fade.
She was filled with a sense of being blessed. Validation for all the decisions she had made in the preceding year and a half. From those crushing first days of shock and despair when she felt alone and confused to this blissful time of love and renewal, a metamorphosis had been achieved.
She had opened herself to opportunities that fate presented to her, and as a result, her life had changed.
“What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger,” her mother had taught her. But she had never truly appreciated those words until James left her and she had to search for her inner strength.
“Take a chance. Make a choice to change your life,” Andrea and Terrence had said to her when they encouraged her to go on her first home exchange. And so she did.
During the hours of talks shared as she recuperated from her accident, Molly repeatedly said, “Every day is a frickin’ gift, Katski. We need to wake up every morning with that thought. Your mother told us that too.” And Kat saw that as a wake-up call.
And recently Simone—dear Simone—grasping Kat’s hand as they parted after a chat over tea, had said, “Once you choose to do what you really want to do, you will begin living a different kind of life. It will be the life you are meant to be living in that moment of time. That is what truly matters. I learned that lesson when I first chose to be in the Resistance, and it has driven my life ever since.” So Kat committed to live the life that she felt truly mattered.
I Promise You This (Love in Provence Book 3) Page 29
