French Escape. Barbara McMahon
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to me. The appeal of being on the water would be the total lack of communication. And that’s unreal—decisions have to be made, plans implemented.”
“So work up to a sabbatical like professors have,” she said, falling into step with him.
“Hmm. In the meantime, climbing’s a strong leader for most desired escape.”
She laughed. “What happened to quiet, safe hobbies like stamp collecting or photography?” She felt almost giddy around him.
He tilted his head slightly. “I might consider taking a picture from the top of a climb.”
“If the camera didn’t get banged up on the way.”
“Never happen.”
“Have you ever fallen?” she asked.
“Slipped a few times. No harm done.”
“That’s a blessing.”
“Not all climbers fall,” he said.
“I know that. But there have to be less scary hobbies.”
“Sure, but what could compare?”
“Travel, for one.”
“Where would you like to travel?” he asked.
“London,” she answered promptly.
“And what’s there?”
“Everything. From Westminster Abbey to the London Eye.”
“Would you be brave enough to ride in it?” he asked.
“Hey, I’m adventuresome. I came to France from America, didn’t I? I climbed a cliff yesterday. I imagine the view from the top of the Eye would be spectacular.”
“Probably. The view from the top of the cliffs is spectacular. I’d hardly call what you scaled yesterday a cliff.”
The teasing tone in his voice startled her. She looked at him suspiciously.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“No.” But his lips twitched.
She remembered the grin he’d given her yesterday when she’d complained about the strain on her arms and legs. It would be worth being mocked to see him laugh.
The walk back took far less time than she expected. Alexandre was playing on the veranda and jumped up to run to her when he saw her.
“I’d like to take you and your son to dinner,” Matt said just before the child reached them.
“What? You don’t have to take us to dinner,” she said quickly. Her interest couldn’t be that blatant, could it?
“If you knew me better, you’d know I rarely do things I don’t wish to. It would be a … a good ending to the day,” Matt said as if choosing his words carefully.
“Mama, where were you? Rene said you’d be back but you’ve been gone a long time,” Alexandre said when he reached her.
“I went for a walk. I thought you’d still be asleep. Now I’m back. Matt asked to take us out to dinner. Won’t that be fun?”
“Shall we leave in about a half hour? That’ll give me time to clean up a bit.”
Jeanne-Marie nodded. She wanted to clean up a bit herself.
Once in her room, she debated what to wear. She loved the way her blue dress fit and showed off her figure. But was it too much when she’d been wearing khakis all day? Maybe the pink top, which gave color to her cheeks. She stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment. Who was that staring back? A widow living without her husband. A mother who loved her son.
But, just maybe, a woman on the brink of something different. Would it be wonderful or end up leaving her mourning what could never be? Funny, she hadn’t thought about making a life with any other man. She’d loved Phillipe. She was trying to make her life what she thought he would have wanted. But he was gone. Maybe it was time to look for other ways to spend the future. Alexandre wouldn’t be with her forever. He would grow up, go off to college and marry. He could live on another continent as she did, so far from where she grew up.
What would the years after that hold?
Right now was not the time to grow philosophical.
She chose the pink top to go with the khaki slacks. She would wear nicer shoes. Every restaurant would be mobbed because of the holiday. Casual was the dress of the day.
The excitement shining in her eyes couldn’t be ignored. Was she ready for this?
“Do you like growing grapes and making wine?” Jeanne-Marie asked once they were finally seated in Le Chat Noir. The wait had seemed interminable, with Alexandre complaining every two minutes he was hungry. Most of the people waiting, however, had been in high spirits. The festive air permeated the village. Matt hadn’t minded the wait. For the first time in a long while he felt connected with others.
“Is that something you always wanted to do?” she added.
“Ever since I was a kid, I knew this was my role in life. I enjoy it. And when I can take a vacation, it seems the best part is returning home. I can’t imagine anything else I’d rather do. I suspect you never yearned to be an innkeeper.” He thought of the acres of vineyards, the constant worry about the weather or pests. The heavy, laden vines just before harvest, the purple grapes looking almost frosted. He missed being there.
She laughed. Matt was struck again by the sound of her laughter. He let his gaze settle on her for a moment. She looked lovely tonight with color in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes. He would like to hear that laughter more. He suspected that she didn’t laugh nearly enough.
“Not at all. Before I met Phillipe, I planned to be an art historian, maybe teach. I enjoyed my classes at university and wanted to have others find the same delight in studying paintings by the masters. But once I fell in love, all I wanted was a family and a happy life. Strange how things worked out. Phillipe hadn’t wanted to run the inn, but refused to sell it when his grandfather died. Even his mother suggested selling and it had been her childhood home. I never expected to own it myself and run it. Still, look how fortunate I am.”
“Indeed.” Making the best of the situation. Which he struggled to do as well.
After their order had been taken, he leaned back as Alexandre chattered away, talking about his day, the rides he’d gone on and the fact he’d seen all the parade since Matt had held him so high.
“Definitely a wonderful thing,” Jeanne-Marie said, wishing Phillipe had had more time with his son. Alexandre had been a baby when he died. He’d never known the joy of his conversation, his enchantment with life. And Alexandre would never know his father except by what Jeanne-Marie and his grandparents told him.
Matt leaned forward slightly. “No time for sadness. This is a celebration.”
She looked up. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about his father and how much he missed. I really appreciate your coming today. Look how much he liked it.”
Matt looked at Alexandre. “My son was that age when he was killed. Think of all he missed.”
“Oh, you’re right, this is not a time to grow melancholy. Thank you for inviting us to dinner. Afterward, we’ll head back, grab a good seat on the veranda and watch the fireworks. They are the highlight of the day for me. You’ll love them.”
Matt pushed away thoughts of another woman, another fete, and focused on the woman with him tonight. One evening didn’t mean he’d forgotten his family any more than Jeanne-Marie had forgotten hers. They were both alive. Life was meant for the living.
Several of the guests at the inn were seated on the veranda by the time Jeanne-Marie, Matt and Alexandre returned. A few chairs were empty, which she asked him to stake out for them while she went to get the cookies and cakes she’d prepared