“Connection to Nietzsche as kids? That’s pretty damn heavy stuff!” Graham said.
Molly laughed. “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. Katherine’s amazing mother gently drilled that into us. It was a message I sure as hell needed in those days.”
“When we read about the Nietzsche trail, we knew we had to hike it. We’re taking the easy way, though—down, not up.”
Nick thought for a moment and then offered to drive them up to Eze. “It’s not a long drive from here and will take a lot less time than the train and bus. We’ll drop you off.”
He and Graham exchanged a few words while Molly and Kat agreed with each other that would work nicely.
“Nick, that’s really kind of you. We don’t want to put you out.”
“Nah,” Graham answered. “In fact, you’ve just given us a good excuse to roll on into Monte Carlo and play a few hands of poker at the casino. That’s our plan.”
Nick continued, “Then we can pick you up in Eze-sur-Mer, which is where you will end up. Right by the train station.”
He gave her the name of a beach bar just down from the station, saying they would wait there and have cold beers on order for their arrival. “You’re going to be ready for a cold brew after that. It’s going to be stinkin’ hot coming down that cliff. Make sure you take your cell phone, and lots of water. Go get ready and meet us at the boat.”
The narrow, winding drive up to Eze had some white-knuckle moments of its own.
An eleventh-century village perched atop a rocky cliff, it was now an artisans’ colony and tourist attraction with boutiques and galleries lining its narrow, cobbled streets. How anything was ever built there was remarkable.
Dropping them at the parking lot just below the entrance, Nick gave strict instructions to walk through the little village to the Exotic Garden and climb up to the castle ruin before they began their hike.
“It’s one of the most magnificent settings on the Riviera. Katherine, I guarantee you will go there again, but Molly must not miss it!”
He was so right. The sensational view stretched forever along the coast, offering a faint outline of Antibes’s ramparts in the distance. The garden, filled with exotic succulents and cacti, bore witness to the dedication of those who had moved every stone and plant up the steep hilltop by hand. In spite of the many photos she took, Katherine promised herself a return for more.
The hike down, on a well-marked trail free of litter, took just over an hour and a half. Typical of the French commitment to their hiking sentiers, there were concrete stairs on some steeper sections.
They walked briefly in the shadow of cliffs and through forested parts, stepping aside from time to time to allow hikers to pass them on their way up the trail.
“I’m darn glad we are not them,” Katherine commented.
“Down was definitely the right decision,” said Molly.
The two friends talked incessantly, pausing only when the path demanded they save their breath for a more strenuous section.
Molly had some thoughts she wanted to share before she left.
“As much as I’ve teased you about having a fling and getting a man in your life, I also want to tell you this. In spite of what the song says, one is not necessarily the loneliest number. Seriously, Katski, I’m proof that living alone can be a very good thing. Don’t feel you can’t be happy staying on your own.”
“I’m always glad to hear you say that. You know I’m feeling more and more comfortable with that.”
“Having some good loving on the side doesn’t hurt, though—just sayin’.”
“You are determined to make me agree that sounds like a good combination, aren’t you? I’m just not convinced at this point that I need or want that side dish. One day at a time—that’s my mantra now.”
Dripping with sweat in the heat of the afternoon, they paused for long draws from their water bottles and to spritz themselves with canned water sprayers.
“Here’s to Elisabeth,” toasted Molly at one of their stops. “She gave us more than she will ever know.”
“To Anyu, forever in our hearts,” Kat responded.
In unison, they laughed as they repeated, “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”
In some places, the worn dirt path opened up to expansive views.
Turquoise water lined the coast, changing to shades of green and deeper blue before becoming lost in the rich azure of the deep sea. The basse corniche, paralleled by the rail lines, snaked its way along the water’s edge.
Lush vegetation grew around the earth-toned cottages and luxurious mansions that covered the hillsides right up to the cliff tops. They stopped several times to picture how it must have looked when only simple fishermen and farm cottages dotted the landscape.
Imagining Friedrich Nietzsche pondering his philosophical puzzles as he labored up and down this ancient goat trail, they wondered, “Do you suppose these stunning views relieved some of his torment? Or made it worse?”
The remainder of Molly’s last day and evening flashed by in a blur.
The cold beer at the bottom of the trail was a welcome prize. The drive back to Antibes was slow, the road jammed with traffic.
Katherine called Philippe to say they would not make the 5:00 p.m. rendezvous, and they agreed to meet at eight for dinner at Le Brulot.
“I’ll book a table for five of us and it will be Molly’s farewell dinner,” Nick suggested.
And so it was.
Bernadette, in her flamboyant attire even at this hour, collected Molly and Katherine at 6:00 a.m. for the 8:30 a.m. flight to Montreal. Katherine had insisted she was going right to the gate to see her friend off. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Moll. No arguments!”
With the check-in completed, they went to the espresso bar.
“My last caffeine blast in France,” Molly sighed, smiling at Katherine. “How am I ever going to thank you for everything? This visit has been like a fantasy.”
She dropped her eyes for a moment before looking back at Katherine. “There could not have been a better way for me to begin to heal over losing Shawn. Thinking about him while surrounded by the sea and all of this beauty was so meaningful. It helped me to focus on the important and sweet things about him.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. I’ve thought about him a lot too,” Katherine said, taking Molly’s hand.
“Thanks for always being my friend, Katski. This year we’ve sure as hell made up for a lot of lost time.”
“It’s like a gift for me. Having you come with me was one of the best ideas I’ve ever had,” Kat admitted. “These were without a doubt the most fun-filled ten days of my life! None of this would have happened if you had not been with me. I wouldn’t have met Graham and Nick—that’s for sure!”
“Sometimes good stuff happens for a reason. Then sometimes shit happens for no good reason at all, as we know! Whatever, now you know people here and you are all set to carry on with your adventure. I can’t wait to Skype and hear what is going on, especially with those two hunks in your life.”
Katherine laughed again. “Don’t get your hopes up, Molly.”
“One is not the loneliest number you will ever know,” Molly sang.
Katherine chuckled.
Molly continued with a gleam in her eye, “But, if I were you, I’d be getting to know Monsieur Philippe better, ooh la fuckin’ la, he seems like a sweetheart. The strong, silent type. And those eyes. He had me at enchanté.”
“Oh, Molly, who makes me laugh more than you?”
Tearful good-byes were said, and after waving until Molly disappeared from sight, Katherine took the shuttle from the airport to the train station to go home alone.
42
Strolling back to the old town from the station, Katherine decided to swing by the market and invite Philippe over after he closed up shop. He had been quiet at dinner the previous evening. With Nick and Graham in top gear, it was hard to get a word in edgewise.
He sm
iled shyly as she waved, walking up the aisle to his stand.
“I’m on my way home from the airport. Would you like to come by for lunch when you are finished today?”
“I would like that. I should be there by two p.m., and I know Maison Beau Soleil. The Browns are good customers.”
Turning the key in the lock, Katherine entered slowly. The house felt quiet and empty after the nonstop energy of the previous ten days.
As she climbed the stairs to her room, she paused in what had been Molly’s bedroom and smiled.
Taking the last few stairs two at a time, Katherine was surprised to discover a gift bag sitting on her bed.
That Molly. She snuck up here just before we left!
Sitting on the bed, Katherine pulled the tissue paper from the bag to find another wrapped item and three books tied together with a ribbon. Taking the books out of the bag, Katherine laughed out loud.
Fifty Shades of Grey. She and Molly had seen these books at the airport bookstore when they were leaving Toronto. They had a hilarious conversation about them, and Molly told her they were selling like hotcakes everywhere. Apparently, while they weren’t literary masterpieces, they were very juicy female erotica. When the heck had she purchased them? Molly had suggested she should read them, and Kat told her she was not the least bit interested. Typically, Molly ignored her opinion.
Unwrapping the other gift, Kat dropped it back into the bag and fell backward on her bed, shaking with laughter.
Oh, Molly! Only you. A vibrator? Those books?
She opened the note card.
Ma Chère Katski—Merci! Merci! Merci!
I will never be able to thank you enough for this amazing time together. I could not have imagined the fun we have had. Thank you for showing me why you love this beautiful part of the world. I get it.
Remember my suggestion that you have a fling or two while you are here! This gift is to remind you of that and perhaps help you to change your mind and heat up the libido. What else are girlfriends for?
Thank you for being my bestest friend ever.
Love,
M xoxo
Lying on the bed for several minutes, Molly’s note in her hand, Katherine sensed that her crazy friend might have a point. Maybe a fling was just what she needed. She just as quickly dismissed the thought.
I’m a long way away from believing that.
Taking a pitcher of water from the sink in her room and picking up her Kindle, she settled on the roof terrace and watched the surf breaking against the rocky outcropping past the beach. The rhythm of the waves was hypnotizing, and she could feel the comfort it offered on this calm day. Contemplating the reality of how she might spend her days during the next three months, Katherine knew she wanted a plan with some structure.
She also became suddenly aware that she had just invited a man to lunch with her alone, something she had not done for thirty years.
Focus on the waves, the comfort, the calm . . .
When he arrived at her door, Philippe had a paper-wrapped wedge of cheese in one hand and a chilled bottle in the other. “Brie de Meaux is an ancient cheese dating back to the sixth century and apparently Louis XVI’s last wish was for a taste of this. I thought I would introduce you to one of France’s oldest and most popular cheeses—and here’s a bottle of champagne, which is the perfect accompaniment. We need to celebrate our reunion!”
Katherine blanched at the thought of champagne, hoping it wasn’t noticeable. I thought I was over that, she told herself, as a lingering unpleasant memory resurrected itself.
She handed Philippe a corkscrew.
Looking at her with a quizzical expression when she hesitated as he handed her a glass of the bubbly, he asked if everything was all right.
“Someday I may explain,” Katherine said.
Just as he had been in Provence, Philippe was good company—quiet but interesting—and Katherine was happy to have him all to herself. She felt nervous, but not overly.
All was well in Sainte-Mathilde, he told her. Joy was busy as usual and thrilled to hear Katherine was in Antibes when Philippe called to tell her. François had rented his flat in Paris and moved to his simple home just outside the village.
“Pico is thriving but misses you,” Philippe said with a twinkle in his eye.
“I miss him terribly too. I still cannot get over how attached I became to him in such a short time.”
“Dogs can do that to you. They steal your heart before you know it.”
“I’m planning to go up to see everyone once I have my life organized here.”
“Joy is hoping you will do that. She was sad you did not tell her you were coming back to France.”
Katherine explained she had planned to contact her once she was settled and that since Molly flew over with her, she had not been in touch with anyone.
“My goal is to take care of all that this week, now that I have some time on my hands. My first task is to buy a bike.”
“Well, you are talking to the right person for that,” he told her with a wide grin. “There are several excellent bike shops all along the coast, and I will be happy to introduce you to them and tell you which one is my favorite.”
“That would be wonderful—thanks!”
“They will treat you well, and their prices are fair. You can join my cycling club, if you wish.”
Katherine was pleased at the thought. Check that off my to-do list.
She put her hand over her glass as Philippe moved to refill it. “No more for me, thanks. You were right, though, it does go well with this Brie. Nick told me you have provided him with the best education about cheese,” she said. “Do you think I could sign up for some lessons too?”
Philippe chuckled and assured her it would be his pleasure. “It may sound odd to some, but I have to tell you, I have a passion for cheese—for the tastes, the history, the process, the pleasure it offers. Like a fine wine, cheese can be very seductive.”
Katherine heard something in his voice, saw it in his eyes, and thought, There we are again, pleasure and seduction.
Katherine shopped at the market almost daily. Two mornings a week, a half hour before it officially opened, she sat with Philippe behind his counter as he offered tastes, explanations, history, one type of cheese at a time. Some mornings Nick joined them.
On Wednesdays, she took the train into Nice and wandered through the Cours Saleya market before meeting up with a group of women from the International Women’s Club.
Mirella had sent her an e-mail introducing her to a friend who was a member, and Kat was immediately welcomed into the organization that consisted of many expats as well as locals. She signed up for the Wednesday hiking group, women who also practiced their French at the same time. Through them she discovered a number of women in the Antibes area who had started a beginner’s bridge group in Juan-les-Pins. A local bus took her right to the street. That took care of Monday evenings.
Tuesday evenings and Sundays, the cycling group had organized rides.
It seemed she quickly had a plan with structure, and as August was ending she realized that she had not missed her job for a moment. She thought often about her colleagues. Susan Henderson, Lucy, and Laura all sent e-mails keeping her updated.
The office had closed with less emotion than everyone had anticipated. Dr. H. was enjoying retirement and busier than ever. Lucy and Laura were happy with their new positions.
Life goes on, and mine is unfolding in a different way every day.
43
Nick had become attentive and a regular presence in her life after Graham and Molly left. He had a lot of friends in town, most of them younger, and could frequently be found at the Blue Lady Pub, which drew the sailing crowd and many English-speaking regulars. It was a happening place, with lively conversation and mingling, not the sort of place in which Katherine was accustomed to spending much time. She was surprised to discover how much fun she had. She was even more surprised to discover that she could be fun in th
at setting.
Kat straightened up the kitchen one night as she waited for Nick to pick her up for dinner. She gasped when she opened the door to see him holding an enormous bouquet of pink roses.
Her immediate reaction was to shut the door in a panic. She stood there mute as she pulled herself together. Nick must have assumed she was speechless with pleasure.
“Hey! Beautiful roses for a beautiful woman.”
Accepting them in spite of the sick feeling in her stomach, she invited him in and poured them each a glass of wine.
Taking the flowers to the sink, she filled a vase. As she trimmed each one and placed it in the water, she spoke with her back to Nick.
“These are gorgeous flowers. Thank you. But I feel I need to make something clear between us. Forgive me if I am reading something into this that isn’t there.”
She felt his hand on her shoulder as he came to her side and turned her to face him.
“You are reading something into this, and it is there,” he said, his eyes searching hers.
Katherine swallowed hard. “You are a fine man, and I enjoy your company very much . . .”
“Ah, here comes the ‘but.’”
“Yes, but the ‘but’ is my issue, not yours. We haven’t talked about my situation, and it’s complicated—for me, anyway. All you know is that I’m fairly recently divorced.”
He nodded, took her hand, and led her over to the couch. “Let’s sit down and talk about this then.”
“I’m not going into all the sordid details, but my husband left me suddenly, without any warning. Not quite a year ago. I can’t tell you how painful it was for me. Debilitating at first.”
Nick put his hand to her cheek sympathetically. Katherine gently moved it.
“I’m still damaged, and I’m trying to put everything in perspective. I’m not ready for any romantic involvement.”
Nick put his fingers to her lips. “Shhh. It’s okay. Say no more.”
Katherine continued. “While Molly and Graham were here, we all had great fun together. You’re a kind, thoughtful, and very handsome man—”
The Promise of Provence (Love in Provence Book 1) Page 32
