Once we were seated in the cottage, two glasses of bourbon poured but untouched, Jules said, “I can’t believe you got married. I can’t believe you got married without me.”
I heard the distress in her voice; it cleared the last of the anger from my mind. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I didn’t do it to hurt you.” I was adamant. “And I’m sorry about the slap.”
“I deserved it—I was mean.”
“Astute of you.” I smiled and took a sip of my drink.
“Was marrying Kai another one of your so-called symptoms? Are you still reeling?”
“This—this is why I didn’t invite you. You think I’m broken and damaged, and moving to France was a mistake.” Jules opened her mouth to speak, but I silenced her with a hand. “Don’t bother. I’m well aware of how this looks. I didn’t want to hear it—not from you. I still don’t.”
Upstairs, the bathroom door opened, and Kai’s footsteps echoed across the wooden floor. I looked up as if I could see him through the ceiling. A smile with a volition of its own drifted across my face, like a puffy white cloud making its way in the blue sky.
“Holy shit.”
My attention snapped back to my friend, and the smile faded from my lips. “What?”
“You’re really in love with him—in a way you never were with Connor.”
I paused. “Yes.”
Jules stood, walked to the mantle, and stared at the photograph. “Is this Penny?”
“And Celia, from days gone by.”
“She’d be happy—that you married Kai after such a short time.”
“You think?”
“She was always worried you’d find yourself trapped in a loveless marriage. Worried you loved the idea of security more than you’d love the man you chose. She would’ve approved of you marrying for love.”
“Kai and I, we’re real.”
She caressed the drying dandelion crown.
“I wore that at my wedding,” I said.
“You are different. New York Sage would never have worn such a thing.”
“New York Sage wouldn’t have done a lot of things.”
Jules took up residence in the chair again and said nothing. When Kai came down the stairs, he seemed hesitant. I scooted over on the couch, making room for him and patted the seat cushion. He sat next to me, lending his silent support. I curled into his side and then looked at Jules, who watched us with keen interest.
“I don’t forgive you, you know,” Jules said, pretending Kai wasn’t there. “For ignoring me these past few months, and for not inviting me to your wedding.”
“But you understand?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“I apologize, but I stand by my decisions.”
Jules nodded. “Okay then.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am,” I said, “but I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“I thought if I saw you, I’d feel my mother’s death all over again.”
Jules picked up her glass of bourbon on the rocks and took a sip. “This is terrible.”
“Careful,” I warned. “You’ve got a Southerner sitting not five feet from you.” Jules held the cold glass to her cheek, but I was the one who winced. “I’m a shit.”
“Yep, my cheek is throbbing.”
“You deserved it.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“You guys act like you’re sisters,” Kai noted.
Jules and I laughed. “You have no idea,” we said at the same time, and then laughed again.
The three of us talked long into the night. After a few hours, Kai stood up and kissed me on the forehead, leaving Jules and me alone.
“More tea?” I asked, grabbing our cups. We had switched from bourbon to avoid getting too drunk.
“Sure,” Jules said, looking thoughtful. “Your life is here now, isn’t it?”
I nodded as I filled our mugs with hot water.
“What about Kai?”
“What about him?”
“Will he ever visit his family?”
“I don’t know. I won’t force him.”
When we were too tired to carry on, I made up the couch and Jules settled down for the night. I crept upstairs and slid in bed next to Kai, who snored lightly. In his sleep, he wrapped his arm around me and patted my rump. I smiled, scooted closer and fell asleep.
Chapter 18
Sage
The following morning, we took Jules to the main house and introduced her to the Germains. Celia insisted on making a breakfast that lasted until lunch. Armand left to tend to the vines, but Luc lingered, and I didn’t miss the interested glances in Jules’ direction. It reinforced what I already knew; Luc had never had any real feelings for me. If she found him charming and interesting, then I’d give them my blessing. Every woman needed to have at least one torrid love affair while in France.
“Where are we going first?” Jules demanded after we finished eating.
“How about a tour of the vineyard?” Luc asked.
Jules smiled and took his arm. “Lead the way, and thanks for speaking English for my benefit.”
I watched Luc guide Jules outside and then glanced at my husband. “That looks promising.”
“I’m glad he’s over you.”
I stifled my laughter. “There was nothing to get over. Not really.”
“Didn’t he go to Italy for two weeks because you shot him down?”
“Jealousy becomes you,” I teased. “Luc didn’t know any better.”
Kai looked thoughtful. “I bet Connor is still tortured.”
I sighed. “Do you think Jules is right? Should I contact him?”
“Do you respect what you had together, even though it didn’t work out?”
“I suppose so.”
“There’s no good way to tell him, but yeah, I think he deserves to know. If a woman I loved broke off our engagement, moved across an ocean, and remarried before the year mark, I’d be a wreck.”
“Any woman, or a specific woman?”
He looked at me. “You. He’s not the same after you; he can’t be.”
I smiled. “Are you the same?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Did I make you a better version of yourself?”
“Maybe,” he joked. “Maybe even the best version of myself. How do you like that?”
Sighing, I tugged on his arm. “Come on, let’s catch up with them.”
“Think they’ll do something crazy?” Kai gestured with his chin.
“Who knows?”
“How did you guys forgive each other so easily after not speaking for so long?”
“How did you and your friends handle stuff?”
“We punched each other.”
“Well, I did slap her, but I apologized. I guess, sometimes, friendship is more than just years of history.”
After the tour of the vineyard, we hopped into Luc’s compact car and drove to downtown Tours. We walked around the Old Square, eating gelato, and Kai pointed out the Irish pub where he played.
“Will I get to see you in action?” Jules asked.
Kai smiled. “Absolutely.”
Before the sun set we ducked into a café, squeezed ourselves around a small table and ordered two bottles of wine.
“How is it that the table wine in France is better than most wines in the U.S.?” Jules wanted to know.
“Because Americans don’t know the first thing about wine. Among other things,” Luc said with a grin.
“Your mother is American,” Jules pointed out.
“But she married a Frenchman and became an expatriate.”
“Touché.”
Kai whispered to me, “I bet you five bucks he’ll get her into bed by the end of the week.”
I turned my head, my lips grazing his ear. “You kidding? She’ll get him into bed by the end of the night.”
Kai
pretended to be scandalized. “You New Yorkers move really fast.”
I put a hand on his leg and grinned. “We move fast? When did you propose?”
“Point taken.”
•••
Three days later, we were in McCool’s watching Kai and his band play. A smattering of empty glasses sat in front of us, attesting to the length of time we’d been there. I had a nice buzz going, and I was getting itchy feet, wanting to dance.
“Your husband is kind of hot,” Jules commented.
“Tell me about it,” I said.
“You know, I’m sitting right here,” Luc said, his arm around Jules. She looked up, smiled, and moved closer to him.
I grinned into my pint of cider. I’d been right about their timeline for getting together. Jules was only in town for another week, and there hadn’t been time to wait—Luc wasn’t complaining. I was happy for them, and I wondered if it would turn into something more permanent.
When the band stopped for a break, Kai sat down next to me and took a drink from my glass.
“You guys are good,” Jules commented.
“Thanks.”
“Do you plan on doing anything with it?” she pressed.
“Doing anything? I don’t follow.”
“Is this for fun, or are you hoping it goes somewhere?”
“God, you New Yorkers are so driven, aren’t you?” Kai laughed. “Whatever happens, happens.”
“How Southern of you.” Jules stood up. “I need another drink.”
“I’ll come with you.” Luc trailed after her.
“Ah, drive. I wonder what that feels like,” Kai joked.
“I’m not sure it’s all that it’s cracked up to be,” I answered.
“What do you mean?”
“Driven people always want more. They never know contentment.”
“You sure about that?”
I smiled. “Nope.”
I thought of my mother. She hadn’t been happy unless she was writing, and even then her happiness was tainted with frustration and insecurity, wondering if she was going in the right direction. Maybe there was no right direction, only forward.
Jules and Luc returned, and I kicked Kai out of the booth. “I want to dance,” I said. “So make it a quick jig.”
Grinning, he rose. “Whatever you say, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat, sauntered to the stage, and picked up his instrument. I stood and chugged the last of my pint.
“What are you doing?” Jules asked, when I grabbed her hand and tugged her towards the floor, forcing her to relinquish her newly acquired drink.
“We’re dancing,” I informed her.
“Who the hell are you?” she shouted over the din of music, but she was smiling. “You hate dancing!”
“Not anymore.”
Jules must have learned her lesson—she no longer asked questions about my newfound sense of crazy, she just went along with it. The crazy wasn’t going anywhere.
•••
I dropped the letter into the mailbox before I could think better of it. I sighed, wondering how it would change Connor’s life. I hoped it liberated him.
“He’ll appreciate the gesture,” Jules said, linking her arm through mine. We walked to a café for a quick bite alone before Luc drove Jules to Charles de Gaulle for her evening flight.
“You think? After he reads it, there’s a very good chance he’ll be performing Voodoo on a doll that looks like me.” We settled into chairs, and I ordered for us in rapid French. “I’m sure he gave up thinking he’d hear from me ever again.”
“Ah, no, he hasn’t.” Jules stared at a spot on the table, running her thumbnail in a groove of a wood seam.
“You talk to him, don’t you?”
Jules continued to evade my gaze. “Every now and then. He’s called to ask if I’ve spoken to you.”
“You told him I’d come back, didn’t you? That’s why you’ve been on my ass to contact him.”
“I’m sorry,” Jules said, finally looking at me. The waiter dropped off our coffees. Jules reached for her cup, took a hasty sip, and then made a noise.
“Scald your tongue?”
“Little bit.” Jules sighed. “What did you say in the letter?”
I rubbed a tired hand across my face. It had been a late night, but after everyone else had gone to sleep, I picked up a pen and wrote to my ex-fiancé, thinking uncomfortable words might be easier to write in the dark. Turns out it wasn’t the dark that helped, but the liquor.
“I’m not sure it was entirely coherent,” I admitted. “There was an apology woven in there—about breaking the engagement, but I also wrote that I should never have accepted his proposal in the first place.”
“Oh, Sage…”
“Yeah, I was a little too honest, maybe. I told him he was a wonderful person, and he would make someone else very happy—though hopefully it wasn’t as generic as all that.”
“Did you tell him about Kai?”
“I told him I found someone, but not that I got married. I didn’t think it would be nice to clobber him with that information. Maybe that can come later.”
“You mean from me?”
“If you’re so inclined. I’m sure he’ll contact you as soon as he gets the letter.”
“I’m sorry for this mess, for making him think you were just on a bender and you’d return to your senses.”
I waved my hand, dismissing Jules’ apology. “How were you to know? How were any of us to know? I should’ve contacted him long before now.”
“Can I change the subject?”
“Please.”
“Luc wants me to come back. Maybe at the end of summer. Is it okay that I’m with him? He told me he had thing for you when you first came here.”
I smiled. “It was fleeting and nonexistent. He’s a good guy, and you’re a better fit for him. You both have the same outlook on life. You get each other. Just makes sense, y’know?”
“You mean that?”
“I do. Without a shadow of a doubt.”
We finished our meals, and when it was time for Jules to leave, Luc loaded her bags into his car and got in to start the engine. Jules hugged Kai goodbye and whispered something in his ear that made him nod solemnly. I opened the passenger door and then put my arms around my oldest friend.
“You better email and call more, or I’ll fly back over here just to kick your ass,” Jules threatened.
“I promise.” As they drove away, Kai and I watched them disappear down the road towards Paris.
“Everything okay?” Kai asked, rubbing a hand across my back.
“I miss her.”
“She’ll be back.”
“I know.”
“We can visit her in New York. Any time you want.”
“You’re so good to me.”
He smiled, but it was sad. “I know what it’s like to have friends that mean the world to you.”
“Things are changing, aren’t they?”
Kai took my hand and squeezed it. “Haven’t they changed already?”
I squeezed back. “Yes. I suppose they have.”
•••
“Happy Birthday, Sage,” Kai whispered. The windows were thrown wide open, and the June country air swirled around the room. After a light supper of fruit, bread and cheese, we had gone to bed but not to sleep. We had stayed awake, laughing and talking, not caring that dawn was close.
I snuggled deeper into his arms, relishing the feel of his warm skin beneath my cheek. “Twenty-seven. Wow.”
“Do you feel old?”
“No. I feel like I’m getting younger. Is that weird?”
“Kind of. You ready for your present?”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.” Kai moved, and I groaned. “Come back.” I heard the bedside table drawer open and the clanking of metal, and then Kai handed me a set of brass keys. Sitting up, I looked at him for an explanation. “What are these for?”
“I bought us a house.”
> My eyes widened. “You bought us a house—just like that?”
His smile faltered. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“You bought a house? Without even consulting me?” No matter how many times I repeated it, I couldn’t believe it. I shot out of bed and reached for my clothes. “I want to see it. Now.” People didn’t just buy a house on a whim, but Kai was a whim kind of man. I loved that about him—but a house?
Kai didn’t argue. We borrowed Celia’s car and drove in silence for twenty minutes before pulling up in front of a modest stone farmhouse. Most of it was swaddled in darkness.
I strolled to the quaint, red front door and touched the golden lion knocker, curious about my new home. Using my shiny new key, I stepped into the foyer, fumbled for a light switch and watched as the hallway blazed to life.
I ambled through the house, learning it like a lover. Kai followed at a discreet distance, allowing me time. I ran my hands over the whitewashed walls of the living room, noticing the open feel of the home. I went into the modern kitchen and marveled that it didn’t detract from the rustic beauty of the rest of the house. Opening the back door of the kitchen, I saw moonlight glinting off a small lake and watched grass dance in the gentle summer breeze.
I took the spiral stairs to the second floor turret and found a large bay window that overlooked the property. It was the perfect room to write. Writing for me was inevitable now, like taking my next breath. To keep denying it would be to deny myself. Maybe I would get a typewriter, an old one. It would mean more when I finished whatever I decided to create. I would feel like I’d earned it through each punch of a sticky key.
When I came to the master bedroom, I pulled open the French doors and went out onto the balcony, cool predawn air caressing my skin. I sat on the stone floor, stretching my legs out. Kai crouched next to me.
“It’s—”
I held up a hand, willing him silent. We sat in quietude, long enough for our bodies to grow numb, but still we didn’t move.
By the time the sun crept up on the horizon, I had managed to find my voice. “The sky looks different here—it’s golden. No, not golden exactly, butterscotch. And lavender, the color of cotton candy.” I smiled in whimsical thought.
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