The Promise of Provence (Love in Provence Book 1) (11 page)

Molly had gathered her strength by the evening. They had dinner at a wild Russian restaurant where the excellent meal was served by bustling waiters, each determined to outdo the other’s personality. A jazz club around the corner offered fine entertainment before Molly began to fade and they called it a night.

Sunday morning felt right for sleeping in, followed by a bus tour.

Monday they left the apartment as spotless as they had found it. Molly apologized a half-dozen times on the way home, and Katherine surprisingly realized she might be very happy traveling on her own.

The thought was one that simply had never crossed her mind.

10

Apprehensive, Katherine walked into her house and looked around. Everything appeared just as it had before she left.

On the kitchen table sat an envelope with her name on it. Katherine
gulped as she felt the sharp jab of a bad memory. Closing her eyes and shak
ing her head, she cleared it quickly away and opened the thank-you note.

Smiling, she thought,
Andrea is right. Home exchange is very cool.

After unpacking her things and calling Andrea to give her a detailed report on the weekend, Katherine heated up some soup. Taking it with her to her desk, she sat down, turned on her computer, and signed in to the home exchange website. She was hooked.

Scrolling through the properties—everything from castles to apartments to modern homes and ancient village and farm properties—she didn’t find any in France that indicated a desire to visit Toronto. In spite of that, it was great fun just looking at the listings.

As she settled into bed later, she smiled sleepily.
Now I have something worth dreaming about . . .

Walking across the street to yoga with Lucy after work on Tuesday, Katherine told her all about the weekend trip.

Lucy thought for a minute and then suggested, “Here’s how I see it. The exchange experience was perfect. Molly’s company, not so much.”

“That’s about it,” Katherine agreed, “although it wasn’t really her fault. She just seems to be dealing with a lot of issues, some of which I was completely unaware. I wish I could help her.”

“If you feel like telling me more about it sometime, Katherine, perhaps I can suggest something. Obviously I don’t know the details.”

Katherine nodded. This whole experience of spending time with girlfriends was very new to her. She had always confided in James, and she wasn’t used to talking to anyone else about someone’s personal life.

“I guess I am being a bit vague, but I kind of feel uncomfortable talking about Molly’s issues. Let me think about it, but thanks, Lucy. I know you want to help.”

“We have a saying: ‘Life is simple, but we insist on making it complicated.’ Maybe what’s troubling Molly is not as complicated as it seems.”

“I hope you’re right. I feel concerned, but then, I’ve never spent that kind of time with her, so it was a surprise. I might be overreacting. Oops, we’d better get into class!”

Later that evening Katherine stared into the bathroom mirror as she massaged a night cream over her face and down her neck. She had been thinking about Molly ever since her yoga class. Something just didn’t feel right.

On Wednesday morning, Molly left a voicemail message apologizing, again, for not being the best company in Chicago. Katherine left one in return suggesting they have a quick lunch on Saturday.

Ordering a chicken pad Thai and green mango salad to share, they stared glumly out the window at the early April snow shower.

“I so frickin’ did not want to see snow again,” groaned Molly.

“We really have had more than our share of it this winter,” Katherine agreed. “I love it, but I’m ready for spring. A few weeks ago up in St. Jacobs, I thought it was here!”

All talk of weather vanished as they savored the tantalizing spicy, slightly sweet, and richly flavored dishes before them, fragrant with exotic turmeric and tamarind.

“Who knew mango and onion would complement each other,” Katherine said, helping herself to another serving of green mango salad.

“Man! I love this food!” Molly said. “Excuse me for talking with my mouth full—it’s so-o-o delish!”

Katherine laughed and nodded her agreement, but as time passed she felt Molly was not herself.

“Molly, are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I sensed something was bothering you last weekend. You were so excited about going to Chicago and then Saturday afternoon your mood changed dramatically—like something happened. But what?”

“Nope, nothing happened. I just got one of my horrible headaches. Bad timing. Like I said, I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil the weekend.”

“You didn’t,” Katherine hurried to assured her. “Not at all. It was still a lot of fun and we crammed a lot into a short time! I’m so glad you . . .”

The ringing of Molly’s phone interrupted the conversation.

Molly hesitated with an apologetic look as Kat stared back at her. “Better take it. Might be one of my students,” Molly mumbled.

Obviously it wasn’t. Molly attempted to mask her look of concern as she put her phone away, having said nothing more than hello.

“Why don’t you just keep your phone shut off and take the messages later?”

“I’m sorry, Kat. I just can’t.”

“And why not?”

“The first and most important reason is that I’ve never lost hope that one of those calls will be from Shawn. I never know what number he might call from, so I kind of have to answer every one. If he has to leave a message, he might not.”

“And . . . ?”

“Well, when it’s Saturday, it could be one of my students canceling at the last minute. God knows what phone they might be using.”

“Makes sense,” Katherine agreed, “under normal circumstances. This doesn’t seem normal, somehow.”

“It’s not frickin’ normal, I’ll give you that. If I shut off the ringer and don’t answer, whoever is doing this calls back until my voicemail is totally jammed. And they use different numbers all the time, so I can’t even block a number!”

“Can’t the phone service do something about this? That’s awful!”

“It’s really starting to get to me. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Molly went on to say that at first there would just be silence on the line. In the last few weeks that had changed, and now the caller was doing the classic heavy breathing and every once in a while would say her name. Her voice trembled. “It’s horrible, Kat. I can’t tell if it’s a male or female voice. It’s goddamn spooky.”

“Oh, Molly. Something has to be done.”

“I agree, but I feel stuck because I won’t change my number . . . Shawn . . .”

The conversation veered to the subject of Molly’s brother. Katherine knew how haunted Molly was by his disappearance and her feelings of inadequacy at being unable to track him down. Kat often wondered how someone could simply vanish as he seemed to have.

Molly looked heartbroken as she reminded Katherine how Shawn
had
loved to hear her sing from the time he was very young. “Sometimes
I
think that’s what really helped me to develop as a singer before I even
knew that’s what I wanted to do. I used to sing to him for hours—especially
when our parents were turning the air blue around us.”

“Strange how things happen,” Katherine agreed. “Let’s trust you’ll sing for him again. Don’t lose that hope.”

“Nope, I never will.”

“By the way, next Saturday I’m coming to catch your show at the Blue Note. I promise. I’ve been meaning to for ages, and Andrea and Terrence said they’d like to come too. How does that sound?”

“Sounds fan-fucking-tastic!”

11

Katherine spent the remainder of Saturday afternoon in the basement. She had pulled boxes into the middle of the floor and was slowly going through them, saving what she wanted and purging the rest. A strong urge to simplify her life had resulted in her taking several large bags of papers to a recycling depot that morning, and she was determined to continue with her plan to adopt a minimalist style of living.

“The new me,” she described to Andrea in an e-mail. “I want to keep every aspect of my life uncluttered from now on. No more hanging on to unnecessary stuff! I’m slowly beginning to climb from the bottom of the well, and I know my recent visits to my counselor have helped.”

The rejection and lingering pain from the shock of James leaving still made its presence known from time to time, but overall she was coping. Nights were the worst. She had never minded having time to herself when James was working late, and she could always find ways to be amused—most of which revolved around a good book or the History Channel or cooking a new recipe from the Food Network.

Molly was pressuring her to hook up with her online and play bridge, but Kat hadn’t tried that yet. In fact, she really hadn’t played bridge since her university days, although her card evenings with her mom through the winter had revived her enjoyment in that.

Andrea, a keen bridge player since university, had also encouraged Kat to take up the game. “Not just because it’s fun and something you can do everywhere, but it’s also a great way to meet people . . . if you are so inclined . . .” she had said.

Katherine simply didn’t feel like meeting people right now. She still found herself wondering if she would be on her own forever. At this point, in some ways it didn’t feel like such a bad idea.

Never, she knew, did she want to be so vulnerable again. Through her counseling, a number of books helped put things in perspective. A line had recently resonated within her:
“Trust takes years to build and seconds to shatter.”

It had certainly only taken seconds for her to read that note and find her life shattered. Being deceived and betrayed had devastated her. But then she would be reminded of her mother and the trust that had vanished from Elisabeth’s young world, the betrayal and horror she had endured, the lives that had been shattered. Katherine would give herself a shake.
No comparison, Kat, move on.

Her strong connection with Andrea had gone a long way to keeping her sane through the worst days. Her friendships with Molly and Lucy were growing in their own unique ways.

Lucy had been instrumental in getting her plugged into yoga classes, and the time they shared there was meaningful, even though there wasn’t the opportunity for a lot of conversation. Because of this, their exchanges at work had shifted slightly, and they often discreetly touched on personal issues. That had never happened before. Knowing each other better as individuals, there were lighter moments in the office, and that was fun.

And Molly. Well, she chuckled, Molly didn’t realize what a close friend she was in spite of her issues. Somehow her idiosyncrasies made her all the dearer to Katherine, who felt good about being able to offer her support in return. She sensed she had only scratched the surface of what was going on in Molly’s life.

Katherine was beginning to feel something closer to normal. She knew she didn’t feel happy, but the anger and disappointment that had plagued her were diminishing. She missed her mother terribly, but she had moments of a sense of calm in her life.

Taking a break in the early evening, she contemplated dinner without much enthusiasm. Usually she settled for a quick and easy salad when she was in a mood like this, but tonight that didn’t call to her. She knew there was only one solution.

Popcorn.

The old-fashioned hand popper from her childhood still hung in her mother’s pantry, and they had used it often since Katherine had come to live with her. Many a bowl had been shared as they played their evening card games.

Shaking it over an element on the stove, Katherine also melted some butter in a small pot and within a few minutes the aroma filled the kitchen. A hot bowl of buttered popcorn was soon ready.

Placing it on the desk beside her computer along with a large glass of water, Katherine settled in with a smile on her face.

Checking her e-mail, which she did several times a day now that she was registered for a home exchange, she felt a little flutter as an unfamiliar and very French-sounding address appeared.

We are Madeleine and Jean-Pierre Lallibert. We are at last minute to try to plan our holiday. Would you like to visit to our little farmhouse for first two weeks June. We hope you like our pictures. We you wait the answer.

In the Mont Ventoux area, cozy 250-year-old farmhouse, big garden, in the Luberon, near Avignon in the beautiful Provencal landscape. We are just close to the little village Sainte-Mathilde. Walk to the boulangerie for café and croissant on your way to daily market.

We are surrounded with beautiful villages and scenery from Mont Ventoux, local gorges and the Plateau de Sault which is covered with lavender fields until the end of July.

You would enjoy our Provencal markets and festivals in the different villages and relax in this typical atmosphere . . . and lots of wines to taste. There is a bike and you can ride around the house in nearby vineyards.

The photos of the property were like something described in her favorite Peter Mayle books about Provence. The weathered stone house with blue shutters and door, worn terra-cotta roof, and several outbuildings surrounded by slightly overgrown gardens of the happiest looking perennials. Oh, and sunflowers! Just behind them she could see vineyards stretching to the distant hills.

Something told her this was meant to be. It wasn’t supposed to happen so soon, and here it was. She couldn’t wait to hear what Lucy would say about the meaning of it all.

She immediately googled the area and read more about it. Transportation was easy, with a flight to Paris and then the TGV, the high-speed train, to Avignon, where she would rent a car. She soon realized she already had it all planned.

“Andrea!” Katherine almost shouted into the phone. “You won’t believe it, but I just got an exchange inquiry from France, and it’s perfect. I can’t believe it but it’s perfect and I really want to go but I just don’t know what to do and . . .”

“Whoa!” Andrea interrupted. “Are you excited or what? Slow down and start over, please!”

Calming down, Katherine told her the details before Andrea brought a little reality to the situation.

“That’s just over a month away. Isn’t that a bit of a rush? A bit too soon?”

“Too soon for what? I have enough vacation time, since all I’ve taken this year was a week after mom died. The house doesn’t need to have anything done to it. Ever since my trip to France as a student, I’ve kept my passport up to date. All I have to do is book my ticket and pack my bags.”

“Who is going to go with you?”

“No one.”

There was silence from Andrea for a few seconds and then, tentatively, she asked, “Are you sure about that?”

“Never surer. I thought about this when Molly and I went to Chicago. I realized that I might want
to travel alone. I can’t ask her this time anyway because school will still be in. I can’t ask you because I know what a busy time it is on the farm for you guys. I can’t ask Lucy because she simply can’t get away from her family obligations. So that leaves me, myself, and I.”

Andrea was amazed at Katherine’s assured tone of voice.

“I want to go on my own. It’s important to me.”