by Serena Janes
And then that morning they had to get up early to drive out to take a look at the house. Apparently they had to make up their minds right away.
Jo and Luc looked down at the shaking dog and burst into laughter.
“Oh you poor baby,” Jo cooed. She snapped on his leash and took him back to the car.
“He’ll settle down,” Luc assured her. “We should take him over to meet Otis later. That’ll give him something to think about.”
“So?” he looked at Jo carefully. “What do you think? If you really don’t like it we can keep looking. It’s up to you, ma biche. We can stay in my house as long as it takes to find something better.”
She forced a smile. Luc’s house, while comfortable enough, was less than a hundred yards from Anna’s. It was altogether too cozy an arrangement, Jo thought.
“No, no. Let’s take it. You’re probably right. A year will be nothing. And then we can take our time shopping.” She linked her arm in his and stood on her toes to kiss his lips, careful of the corner she’d bitten.
“Are you sure?” He pushed her away from him so he could look down into her eyes. “You’re the one making all of the compromises. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
She gazed up into the most loving dark blue eyes she’d ever been fortunate enough to see. “As long as you’re in it, this house will be my home.”
He returned her kiss and, despite her fatigue and misgivings about the house, her body flamed in response. She rubbed her breasts against his chest and said, “Let’s go sign the papers so we can go back to bed.”
* * * *
As he drove home from the landlord’s office, Luc raised his hand to his sore lip and smiled. It had been a lot of planning and juggling, but it looked like everything was going to fall into place. Joanna was here, so was her dog, and they had just signed the lease for their first home together. Now all he had to do was prepare to move out of the old house and ready the new one. He figured it would all be done in less than two weeks.
There was one other important thing, though, and it was never far from his mind. Daniel and Joanna had to meet. He couldn’t put it off a moment longer.
Luc was apprehensive. Although Daniel had recovered pretty much one hundred percent from his concussion, being introduced to a complete stranger—and being told that this stranger was going to be his step-mother—could be traumatic. Luc appreciated that Anna had already spent a lot of time talking to their son about the changes in his life, but he still worried.
He tried hard to keep his concern from Joanna on the way home. She said she wanted to go back to bed, but he’d already invited Anna and Daniel over to the house for a brief visit.
“It’s better to do this as soon as possible,” he’d explained to Joanna as he bumped along the rutted lane leading to his house. “He knows you’re here. He can probably see you from the yard.”
“Okay. Of course. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, smiling sweetly. She probably wasn’t one hundred percent ready, but how could she be? Anyway, she hid it well.
His heart swelled with love for this beautiful, brave woman. He knew she was as least as nervous about this meeting as he was.
Joanna was busy unpacking when Luc heard Daniel’s hesitant knock on the door. He felt a pang of guilt—his son had never knocked before. Anna must have coached him, taught him the new rules, for his new way of life.
He opened the door to see Anna and a rather pale Daniel standing on the porch, Otis at their heels, wagging his tail.
Anna said, in a falsely cheerful voice, “I hope we’re not too early,” and pushed Daniel through the door as she scanned the room.
Otis lunged inside and instantly bolted down the hall. They all heard a terrible barking and snarling, claws scrabbling on the wooden floor, ending in a piercing dog scream and a woman’s voice crying, “Sammy! Sammy! Otis—you stop that! Stop it!”
Luc ran into the bedroom and saw Joanna, in a state of shock, blood dripping from her arm, practically hysterical as she saw her little black and white terrier pinned upside down by the much larger spaniel. Luc grabbed Otis by the collar, dragged him off and pitched him outside. Then he attended to his fiancé and her dog. Sammy seemed to be more frightened than hurt, but Joanna’s wound needed disinfecting and a bandage.
When everyone calmed down, Daniel and Joanna were formally introduced over glasses of Ribena and a plate of cookies—thoughtfully provided by Anna. Daniel was a perfect gentleman. The excitement had put some color into his cheeks and gave everyone common ground.
“Does it hurt?” Daniel asked Joanna in French, pointing to her arm.
“Yes. But Sammy has scratched me before. I know he didn’t mean to,” she replied in halting French, mangling the phrase didn’t mean to. Luc saw her blush a little as she struggled with her grammar.
“Will Otis and Sammy have another fight?” Daniel wanted to know. He wouldn’t take his eyes off Joanna, hadn’t since the moment her first saw her. Luc was amused, watching his son behave much like he himself had when he’d first met her in Souillac.
“Probably,” said Luc. “But we have to give them some time to get to know each other. Then they’ll become friends.”
“Does Sammy understand only English?”
“That’s right,” said Joanna.
“Will you speak English to me?” Daniel asked Joanna in English. It was the kind of non sequitur that makes some children so charming, Luc thought. “Your French is quite bad.”
“Daniel!” both parents said at once, but Joanna just laughed.
She answered in English. “If that is what you would prefer, then yes, Daniel. I will speak to you in English. Your English is very good, and you are right, my French is poor.”
“Daniel goes to an English immersion school,” Anna said in English. “We’ve also taught him a little German and Italian. We want to prepare him for international study, if that’s what he’d like to do, one day.”
Joanna seemed relieved to have the conversation revert to her native tongue. “I wish I had been able to study at a French immersion school, Daniel,” she said. “Then I wouldn’t be having trouble talking to you right now.”
“I can help you learn French,” Daniel said, puffing up his skinny little chest. “And Sammy, too.”
Everyone laughed and two bright pinks spots appeared high on Daniel’s cheeks. Luc felt the tension leave his body as he realized that Daniel was going to be just fine.
Joanna, too.
The rest of the visit went smoothly, and before Daniel and Anna left, Joanna went into the bedroom and came back with a late birthday gift for Daniel. It was a kite in the form of an eagle. Luc said he would show him how to fly it, when the weather was right, and the boy seemed pleased with both the kite and the promise.
Anna had to snap a leash onto Otis to get him home. And as Luc waved them goodbye he hoped the stupid dogs would sort out who was Alpha and who wasn’t, and get on with it.
Once they were alone he turned to Joanna and hugged her, careful of her injured arm.
“That went well, don’t you think?”
She nodded into his chest.
“He’s a pretty sweet kid. And I think he’s a little smitten with you. Like father, like son,” Luc said, chuckling.
“He is very sweet, Luc. And he looks so much like you. I think I love him already.”
“I hope I’m not going to be jealous,” he said, feigning a pout. Then he laughed.
Everything was going to be just fine. He kissed Joanna with the side of his mouth that didn’t hurt and let himself be led back to bed.
Chapter Six
The sustained efforts of a team of professional house cleaners and three coats of white paint did take care of the smell, most of the time. But there was still something not quite right about their rental house, Jo knew. It wasn’t just that it was old. She and Sammy were both aware of something odd about it.
Luc had done his best to make it theirs, she had
to give him credit. He’d replaced the old fridge with a shiny steel German model, and serviced the propane stove so that she could light it without fear of blowing herself up. Then he’d replaced the broken electrical heaters—the only dependable source of warmth in the draughty old place—and installed a few extras. They bought a new bed for themselves, and two vintage wardrobes for their clothes. And they set up a bedroom for Daniel, who would use it on the weekends.
Luc’s furniture wasn’t great, Jo thought, but it was functional. And with his big tv and sound system, the downstairs rooms were transformed into something approximating comfort.
As soon as they were officially moved in, Luc invited a few people over for an impromptu housewarming. The real reason for the casual party was to introduce Jo to his friends. Of course Anna and Daniel came too, bringing Jo a housewarming gift. When Jo saw a grinning Daniel wheeling the second-hand bicycle up to her door, she had to fight back the tears. The wire carry basket attached to the front was filled with yellow and white chrysanthemums.
“Oh Daniel! How wonderful of you to think of me! It’s perfect. Now I can go to the market every day, just like a real Frenchwoman.” She embraced the reddening boy and hugged him, placing a kiss on the top of his head. “Thank you. Thank you, Anna,” she said, shyly looking at her. “It’s exactly what I need.”
Jo had never been the kind of little girl who planned her own wedding. She’d never bought bridal magazines, oohed and aahed over white lace dresses, nor had she ever enjoyed being a bridesmaid. As far as she was concerned, the smaller and simpler the wedding, the better.
By early December, most of her wedding arrangements had already been made for her. With the help of Evie, Luc hired caterers, ordered the wine, and someone to perform the ceremony. He looked after the legalities of the union, and arranged all the accommodation for his guests. Jo chose the floral arrangements, most of the menu items and the cake—lemon mousse decorated with fresh flowers.
She hadn’t really done much else, except to buy the perfect dress while she and Luc were in Paris. The sleeveless bodice was made up entirely of off-white interwoven ribbons, and the mid-calf skirt hugged her curves as if it had been custom made. She loved it, and knew she would wear it again and again.
Together they shopped for rings, agreeing on two plain gold bands. Jo couldn’t help remembering the rings James had bought her last year. Her Christmas gift, a big aquamarine and diamond cocktail ring, was far too flashy for her taste, and she’d wanted to give it back to him when they broke up. He refused it, and now it sat in the dark in a safety deposit box. Then there was the diamond engagement ring he’d tried to give her last spring. It had been equally too much, and Jo couldn’t accept it. Not only was the ring symbolic of James’ over-the-top approach to everything, at the time he proposed she wasn’t ready to marry and have children.
But now it was clear to her why she wasn’t ready to settle down. Quite simply, James was the wrong man.
What a difference a few months make.
And the right man.
In the weeks leading up to the wedding, life in the LaPlante home fell into a routine. Luc went into the office five days a week, and while he was gone Jo poured through real estate listings, tried to cook a little, and explored her neighborhood. Slowly she got used to the spooky new place, and as long as Luc was with her she could forget about her surroundings. But when he wasn’t home, she had trouble relaxing. She hated being alone in the big house, with its various creaks and groans—inaudible when Luc was there.
So she took to going out almost every weekday. When the weather was good, Luc rode his motorcycle to work. Then Jo and Sammy took the SUV and roamed the countryside looking at real estate. She’d collected information on everything on offer within a twenty-five mile radius of Cahors, and she wanted to see them all. Although they had plenty of time to shop for a new home, she wanted to make an informed decision, she explained to Luc, who was too busy to help. He said he had no problem turning the entire enterprise over to her.
When the weather grew stormy, Jo didn’t want Luc riding on slippery, wet roads so she either stayed home or walked the countryside near their house. She’d been meaning to buy a car for herself, but didn’t feel comfortable dealing with salesmen. She was in no hurry, she told Luc. He could help her shop when things slacked off a little at work.
With Luc was gone during the day, she was often lonely. But then she met the Andersons.
The closest place to buy supplies was a large rural supermarket a few miles down the road. Jo could cycle there and back, with Sammy riding in the basket, in just under half an hour. Although Luc was still doing most of the cooking, she occasionally bought prepared foods, or tried her hand at a few simple dishes. Most nights, she made an appetizer to eat with the glass of wine she and Luc shared when he got home from work.
One day she noticed there were no charcuterie meats in the fridge. They were also low on cheese and completely out of olives. So she pedaled to the store, intending to choose a selection of delicacies, enough to last the rest of the week. But when she walked up to the deli counters—there were several—the selection overwhelmed her. She couldn’t recall which pâté was Luc’s favorite. She couldn’t even remember which one she liked the best, either. Duck, chicken, goose liver with or without pork? Veal? Flavored or plain? Aspic on top, or not?
And to make matters worse, the name of each variety was hand-written in some kind of calligraphy, all swirls and embellishment. She could barely make out the letters, let alone form them into words.
So she decided to move over to the terrines. The choice there was equally overwhelming. Did she want terrine made of pork, veal, beef, chicken, rabbit, duck, or turkey? Or a combination of two or more meats? Some were flavored with port. Or cognac. Or green peppercorns. Others had bits of black truffles inside. Or chunks of Roquefort. Did she want one embedded with whole hard boiled eggs?
The selection of salamis, smoked or cured meats and farmer’s-style sausages was her undoing. She didn’t know there could be so many choices, and she was too confused to try to explain her dilemma. The poor man behind the counter was terribly patient with her, but she just couldn’t make up her mind, and her French always deteriorated when she was nervous.
“Please, take another customer,” she tried to say to the clerk. “I need more time.” Judging from the look on his face, she must have said something else, she figured. She hoped it wasn’t rude. Or vulgar.
Then she heard a woman’s voice, in English with a French accent. “Excuse me? Do you need some help?”
Jo turned to see a short woman, about her age, with the same dark coloring and sharp features as Anna. But this woman was less sophisticated. Her long hair was gathered into a messy twist and she was wearing jeans and a hoodie. Then Jo noticed that she wasn’t short so much as having trouble standing up straight.
“I do. Thanks. I can’t for the life of me decode some of these signs, and that’s not helping me decide what to buy.”
“I can help you decode, as you say. My name is Rose. Are you American?”
“Yes. Is it so obvious?” Jo laughed, and said, “I’m Joanna. Newly transplanted from Seattle, Washington.”
And so started a friendship. Rose, born in Toulouse, was married to Robert, an American scientist who had given up his research job in Chicago to try market gardening. They had met in the States while Rose was at university. They got married, then moved to France and bought a farm not far from Jo and Luc. Jo realized she had cycled past their property several times.
With Rose’s help, Jo spent about a hundred Euros on a selection of cheeses and top quality specialty meats. When they were finished shopping, they exchanged phone numbers, and Rose invited Jo over for coffee the following week.
She met Rose’s American husband, Robert Anderson, a tall ginger-haired man, and the two boys, Robert Jr. and Max. It turned out that Max was a member of Daniel’s soccer team, and this happy coincidence formed an instant connection between the two
families.
Jo liked both Robert and Rose. Rose, she soon learned, had been crippled from polio as a girl. She could still get around, but one leg was withered, causing her to lean to one side. Her disability didn’t slow her down, Jo was impressed to see. When she wasn’t working in their fields of vegetables, Rose was preserving fruit from their orchard, making pickles and jams, chasing after the chickens, and caring for her three men. She seemed a happy woman, and Jo soon had her pegged as a role model.
Jo began to buy eggs and vegetables from their farm, and even learned a few tips on cooking simple meals.
She was adapting.
* * * *
His wedding was less than two weeks away and Luc still hadn’t decided where to take Joanna for their honeymoon. She said she would leave it up to him, but he was up to his eyes in an important project at work, and couldn’t carve away more than a few days.
No worries. We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. We’ll plan a couple of weeks in the spring. Maybe the Alps. Or Bordeaux.
He was happy to see Joanna was settling in so well. Daniel was still smitten, he’d noticed, and the house was shaping up nicely. Their only problem seemed to be the damned dogs.
Sammy and Otis still tried to kill each other every chance they could. Any disadvantage Sammy had in size and weight he made up for in ferocity. When he wasn’t busy murdering the rats that lived in the underbrush around the house, he was watching the front door, growling, in case Otis suddenly appeared.
It was tiresome for Joanna and Luc to have to plan their get-togethers with Daniel around which dog was where, and when.
But if that’s the least of my worries, I shouldn’t complain.
There was one other little concern that plagued him, however. When he’d happened to glance at the real estate listings Joanna had put together, he was surprised at the high price tags on most of the properties. Of course they’d discussed the kind of house and land they wanted, and he thought she was wasting her time looking at houses they couldn’t possibly afford.
