Chloe sighed heavily and threw up her hands. “Mom, you keep saying that. I understand you and Dad had the best marriage, but you’ve been on your own for so many years now. Pierre does have a good side. He can be kind and funny. Give him a chance … please.”
She seldom got angry with Chloe but was definitely losing patience now. “Well, I haven’t seen that good side and don’t care if I do. Please. I’m asking you to let it go!”
Nora put her earbuds in, opened her French app, and gazed out the window. French grammar still drove her crazy. Chloe pouted.
For lunch, they ate the baguette sandwiches they had picked up at their local patisserie and espresso from the cart that came through their train car.
“Almost as good as Le Train Bleu,” Oli wisecracked.
He looked surprised as neither Chloe nor Nora laughed and had probably noticed both women were giving off unusual negative vibes.
The trip was quick on the high-speed train, and they would arrive in Avignon in three hours. Chloe and Olivier promptly fell asleep after eating and Nora was overjoyed to have uninterrupted reading the rest of the way.
After they disembarked, Chloe and Olivier were immediately greeted with warm bises by a fit-looking, older couple waiting for them on the platform.
Olivier’s grandparents had the effortless poise of people long comfortable in their own skin. The man, tall and lean with a shock of silver hair neatly combed back, had a firm handshake and a smile creased at the edges by good humor.
The woman beside him radiated energy. Her eyes sparkled a sincere welcome, and her white hair framed her face with soft waves. Nora had an immediate impression they were a couple who shared a quiet love and understanding forged over decades.
Before Chloe could say anything by way of introduction, the couple gave the same sincere bises to Nora. In strongly accented English, they said how thrilled they were to have her come to their home for the holidays.
Pointing to each other, they indicated Nora should call them Mami and Papi. “Comme notre famille. Like our family. Grandma and Grandpa.”
Nora’s heart swelled with affection at their heartfelt welcome. Chloe grinned.
“They are the sweetest people. I adore them,” she whispered to Nora.
Olivier had taken charge of getting Atticus off the train, and the dog sat politely as he was introduced to Mami and Papi. Petting him, they told him their dog Fântome was waiting for him at the farm. Nora smiled at the suggestion and their obvious immediate affection for Atticus.
As they walked to a small SUV in the station parking lot, Olivier said to Nora, “Atticus is going to be exhausted by the end of your visit. The dogs will be running through the fields and vineyards nonstop.”
Olivier and his grandfather chatted briefly about the route home. Then he explained to Nora that there was an evening market going on in Avignon and the traffic was not conducive to driving into the city as he had hoped.
“Unfortunately, you won’t see much of Avignon from here except the outskirts, but we will come early the day we leave to show you the highlights,” Olivier said.
On the drive to the farmhouse, they spoke excitedly, much of the time in French with Chloe translating.
Nora promised, “Et je vais pratiquer mon français. Je vous promets.” She knew it would take her a bit of time to feel comfortable speaking French with Mami and Papi. It never failed when she was with new French-speaking friends. But she would do it.
Chloe pointed out aspects of the peaceful landscape along the way. The Provençal countryside unfolded into a patchwork of small villages, vineyards, orchards, and olive groves dressed in their winter wardrobes.
The grapevines, stripped of their leaves, stretched in neat rows, and earthy tones of brown, rust, and ochre dominated the fields. Silver-green leaves on the ancient and gnarled olive trees shimmered in the sunlight.
Seeing the grayish-brown mounds of lavender plants gave Nora a good idea of how stunning it would be in late June when they boasted their glorious, sweet-smelling, purple-hued blooms.
“You must come back in lavender season,” Mami said to Nora. “It’s a sight to see, and we can take you to private fields where there are no tourists. Chloe, you must promise to bring your maman back then.”
“I’ll do my best,” Chloe replied, nudging Nora and beaming at her. “We’re stopping on the way to choose le sapin, the Christmas tree, at a neighbor’s farm. That was part of the discussion you missed a minute ago. So, the festive fun is beginning. The serious food stuff won’t be for another day though.”
As signposts indicated they were near Saint-Rémy-de-Provence Chloe pointed out the rocky outline of Les Alpilles in the distance. The small range of limestone peaks dominated the landscape in that region. “Hopefully we’ll have some time to spend on a hiking trail or two. There are tons of them.”
Soon they drove down a long gravel lane ending in the middle of a thick forest. Nora breathed in the smell of wood smoke she loved so much.
They climbed out, leaving Atticus, as Papi gestured down a row of tall trees and handed Olivier a saw. In front of a small wooden hut with a welcome sign, a cast iron pot hung over a wood fire, and a young girl approached with a tray of steaming mugs.
“Mulled wine to sip while we choose the perfect specimen,” Mami told Nora. “Also, a relatively new tradition because le sapin de Noël was not part of our fête de Noël until after the Great War. My parents were the first to embrace the tradition of an entire tree in our family. Before that, we just collected branches and made garlands to hang on the doors and in hallways.”
After a stroll through the woods and much discussion among everyone as to the height, fullness, and shape of their ideal tree, the perfect choice was made. When it was paid for, the men tied it to the top of the SUV and they continued on their way to the farm.
