The next morning Katherine sent the pups to jump on Andrew’s bed just before noon.
He laughed groggily when she told him the time. Then he pulled the covers over his head to protect himself from the barrage of busy tongues and damp noses.
When he poked his head back out, he said, “I guess that takes care of my jet lag!” As he lay there, Coco nestled up against his legs and Rocco attempted to burrow under the covers.
“I would say so,” Kat agreed with a chuckle. “I will be in the kitchen whenever you feel like surfacing. No rush!”
The dogs jumped off the bed to follow her. “Allez les chiots.”
“Can we squeeze in a bike ride today?”
“It’s very windy today. We’ll watch le météo and see what the forecast says. I honestly have been so preoccupied this morning, I haven’t checked. I will take a look now.”
Andrew joined Katherine in the salon a half hour later. He found her at a side table surrounded by stacks of black-and-white photos.
“A new undertaking?” he inquired.
“This has become a bit of an obsession with me,” Kat replied. She explained how she had purchased the old trunk filled with letters and photos when perusing the brocantes at L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue.
Andrew examined a few photos. “I can see why you find them so intriguing. Right away, I want to know what the story is. Who are these people, and what were they doing in these pictures?”
“Exactly. Surprisingly, an overall story is beginning to unfold. It’s hard to pull myself away from these photos, but I’ve got to ease up now until after Christmas. To say it is time-consuming is an understatement!”
Andrew studied the photos for a few more minutes. “Aunt Kat, I hope you keep on doing this. Perhaps you can start on the genealogy for our family, too.”
Kat nodded. “That’s definitely in my plans. Come into the kitchen, and I’ll make us something to eat.”
She moved aside three shallow white bowls on the kitchen island.
He looked at her in confusion. “What on earth are you doing? It appears you’ve been working on a school science project.”
“Ha! You’re right! It does look like that.” She motioned to the bowls, in which she had placed seeds. A wad of cotton batten sat beside the bowls.
“Today is December fourth. It’s the beginning of la Calendale, the festive season in Provence. This was the first tradition I learned last year. It’s la fête de la Sainte-Barbe—Saint Barbara’s feast. People plant wheat or grass seeds or a combination of both on a saucer or whatever else they want. Then the seeds are covered with dampened cotton to get them germinating.”
“And the purpose is?”
“If the wheat/grass grows straight and tall, it means a good harvest or good luck in the coming year. We put the bowls on the table, tied with red ribbon, at Christmas … unless of course you’ve not had success and they’ve flopped over or died. In that case, I can rush to the market and replace them—but that’s not the point, is it? It’s a fun tradition, and you will see these in all the stores, the bank, the post office. These traditions are part of what I love about living here.”
“I can see that you do, Aunt Kat,” Andrew said as he gave her a hug. “It makes us all very happy to see that!”
“Okay, lunchtime! Or brunch for you … What’s your pleasure?”
“What are you going to have?”
Kat held her palm up to him. “I asked you first! Philippe has a meeting with a supplier today, so he won’t be eating lunch here.”
“In that case, how about some of your perfectly poached eggs? With crumbled feta cheese and dried mint on top?”
“Done! Since the wind is still blowing like crazy, biking is not an option. I thought we could start putting the pine boughs around the house, and—”she paused and grinned at him.
“And?”
“What did we usually do when we were decorating your place?”
“Bake shortbread! Really? Fantastic!”
“I even found golden yellow sugar at the imported food shop. So we can make Elisabeth’s recipe right down to the last detail. You know how she insisted on that specific type of sugar.”
“I think of Néni Elisabeth often,” Andrew said. “I will always remember her as such a calm source of strength. ‘What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.’ Right?”
“Yes, that was definitely her mantra.”
“I love that you have her carpet here. We will always be grateful that she found the strength to write that letter. Imagine if all of our family’s history during the war had been lost forever.”
Kat nodded. “We are thankful, as painful as it is, to know what they all went through in those terrible times. Those are stories that need to be told through every generation.”
When Philippe arrived home later in the afternoon, Christmas music was playing softly. At Kat’s urging, Andrew had quickly put together a playlist of Yuletide music from all over the world. Kat remarked it would have taken her hours to do what he did in a matter of ten minutes.
Coco and Rocco greeted Philippe at the door and escorted him into the kitchen.
“Formidable! Shortbread! I would know that smell anywhere!”
The salon, dining area, and kitchen looked as though a troop of holiday decorators had held a contest. Evergreen ropes and boughs were placed tastefully around the rooms, draped over the mantel, and arranged in pots. Red and green velvet ribbons were woven through in some places and tied in bows in others. Thin threads of gold beads added just enough sparkle. Kat had picked them up at a stand in the Place Nationale Christmas market.
“Bienvenue, chouchou!” Katherine greeted him. She and Andrew were decorating some of the cookies with colored icing sugar. Several other plates held mounds of plain cookies in a variety of shapes.
“Your timing is perfect! We’ve just taken the last batch of cookies from the oven,” Andrew told him.
Philippe reached over and took one shaped like a star. His glance checked with Kat for approval.
“Go ahead. We knew you would be pleased.”
“They are scrumptious, as usual, Philippe,” Andrew assured him.
Philippe’s eyes lit up, showing he agreed, as he ate his first cookie and reached for another.
“You’ve been busy! There are enough cookies here to feed an army.”
Laughing, Kat explained that they got carried away and decided to keep going until they ran out of dough. “Andrew is going to take some with him to Ukraine, and we will have no trouble gifting some to friends here.”
“And have no trouble eating more than we should,” Philippe added, gazing around. “By the way, the house looks magnifique!”
“Well, we dashed out right after lunch and bought the ribbons and garland. There’s a box of candles waiting to be set around the house as well. There are faux candles for some spots. We figured they might be a good idea with the rambunctious pups roaring around!”
“Then we got into cookie dough mode and that was it! We were committed for the afternoon—just like old times,” Andrew said, his smile warm with nostalgia.
Philippe reported he had ordered some fresh mistletoe—le gui—at the market. Katherine reminded him they had also purchased eight red and eight white cyclamen plants that should arrive by the end of the week.
“What about poinsettias like we used at home?” Andrew asked.
“Everyone tells me cyclamen are the go-to plant here for the fête de Noël. So that’s what I decided we need. I’m trying to make sure I cover all my bases.”
“Aunt Kat, give yourself a break. From everything I’ve seen and heard, this will be your best Christmas ever.”
She gave Andrew a wide-eyed look of disbelief. He and Philippe burst out laughing.
“I believe you, Andrew. One thing I’ve learned about your aunt is that when she sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her!” Philippe said, his voice full of admiration. “That’s why I’m perplexed at how she is doubting herself now.”
“You’re right about that,” Andrew agreed. “In her own quiet manner she has inspired me in many ways … So what’s with this, my dear aunt?”
Kat shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m embarrassed about it and can’t figure it out. But we all have our moments, right? Trust me, I’m working on it.”
Later, as they were about to sit down for an apéro in the garden, Katherine suddenly realized she had forgotten all about checking out the place she thought she had seen someone earlier in the week.
With the wind continuing to blow, she had been letting the pups run around the yard. She had not seen anything untoward since.
Now the three of them, accompanied by Rococo, walked to the foot of the garden. The pups led the way, chasing and tumbling over each other, making everyone laugh.
Although there was a clear view out across the bay from the foot of the garden, there was also one forested area to the east. Simone’s property abutted this and was also heavy with trees there. The growth had been thinned a bit, and flowering shrubs had been planted in front of the trees to add color.
The pups dashed ahead and disappeared into the undergrowth.
“It is still quite thick in here,” Philippe observed as he held bushes from slapping back on Kat and Andrew.
One area appeared to be trampled. Andrew spotted bushes that had been pushed aside to make a faint path to the stone wall. “I guess someone could have climbed over here. But what would they be looking for?”
“I hate to say it,” Philippe stated with alarm, holding his hand up to stop them from coming closer to him. “But someone has used this area as une toilette. I will have to talk to Chief Mercier about this and see if there are known vagrants in the area right now. Kat, we must be certain to keep our doors locked.”
“I will call Simone and warn her, too,” Kat said, as a sharp reminder of Dimitri’s gang made her shiver. “I just would like to be assured that’s all it is.”
Not wanting to dwell on these negative findings, Philippe suggested they go back to the house, have their apéro, and then drive over to L’esplanade du Pré aux Pêcheurs. “There are some first class food stands there, so we can wander around and have a bite to eat.”
“Excellent!” Andrew agreed, hoping his enthusiasm would overcome their unpleasant discovery.
“And, of course, Andrew, your aunt will want me to demonstrate my agility on skates!” Philippe said, teasing Kat. They both laughed as they described to Andrew the first experience Philippe had had on the ice with Kat the previous year.
By the time they reached the Marché de Noël at the esplanade, all three were back in good spirits. Christmas music blared from loudspeakers, some in English and some in French, which made Kat feel somewhat better than the supermarkets’ choices.
They spotted a number of buses lined up in the parking lot, and they all commented on the different languages spoken in the crush of visitors.
“Even though our Christmas markets are nothing like those in the north, we seem to be drawing some crowds in the last few years,” Philippe said to Andrew. “But you will see very different kinds of holiday markets in Eastern Europe. Send us photos.”
As they indulged in delicious sweet and savory crêpes, Kat and Philippe took turns telling Andrew about the quick trip they were going to make to Strasbourg the following week.
“I’ve been invited to a small gathering of fromagers to celebrate the famous Alsace Munster,” Philippe explained.
“And I’m going to visit those famous Christmas markets that I’ve known about forever,” Kat explained with breathless enthusiasm. “I’m excited beyond words!”
Philippe took note of Kat’s change of attitude and silently breathed a sigh of relief.