Page 58 of Under the Shade of the Sycamore

“This is the caretaker’s house,” he explained as we made our way to a window to open it to let some fresh air into the home. “There’s not been a caretaker here for forty years. I have a service tend to the grounds, and the horses have a stablemaster who lives in town. There are some upgrades to be made but your maman and sisters could live here after the work is completed. I know it is country living but it is serene here. There is a well-respected private school in town, Institut de Avignon, the girls could attend. There are horses to ride, village festivals, and Paris is only a short train ride away so they could visit us when we are in city for work and schooling. We could come out here on weekends if we are free. You look shellshocked. Have I stepped into something? Tell me if I am being too pushy. I tend to be bossy according to… well, everyone, but this has been stewing in my head for weeks.”

“I just…” I sat on the dusty window seat as my head swam with information. “This is great, really but what would my mom do here?”

“Be a lady of leisure. Surely she has earned an early retirement.”

He sat beside me. The breeze carried the scent of horse and earth. “Yeah, she won’t buy that for a minute. Also, there’s no way we could afford private school for the twins.”

“I’ll cover their tuition.”

A bark of a laugh erupted from me. His eyes flared. “Sorry, I just imagined my mother’s face hearing that. Claude, you are super generous but my mom would not accept a nickel of your money. She has way too much pride.”

“Fine,” he waved a hand in the air. “We’ll find her a position somewhere. What does she enjoy?”

“Reading, needlework, baking. Not that she has time for that working double shifts.”

“Hmm, when you say needlework to you mean cross-stitching or hand-stitching embellishments on clothing?”

“Hand-stitching. She’s incredibly good with embroidery, quilting, and smocking. Gets her love of working with fabric from my grandmother just like me. She did a lot of the handwork for my clothes but there’s just no time for her to…” I met his smug look. “Oh. You’re suggesting she work for you.”

“Or for you when you’re established. It’s an option. She would be doing something she enjoys, something that will give her pride as well as netting her a good wage. I pay embroiderers and quilters very well for their work is time consuming and requires great skill. It’s something for her to think about if the offer to leave North Dakota for my farm appeals.”

There was a glimmer of hope coming to life inside me. Maybe this would work. Maybe my family could be close, safe and happy and not robbing Peter to pay fucking Paul every time the gas bill was due. Maybe, just maybe, life could be everything I had ever dreamed it would be for us.

“I love you so very much,” I whispered before leaning over to kiss him with every bit of emotion I possessed. He turned to me, eager, hungry, and willing.

I would have taken him right there on the dirty window seat if not for the ruckus of one cocky Chihuahua challenging two mute swans detonating outside.

“He never learns,” Claude sighed as Pamplemousse streaked into the caretaker’s house with two angry white birds in hot pursuit. Up the stairs the dog went. The swans gave us a haughty look before waddling back to the pond the clear victors. “Now where were we?” Claude asked as his gaze moved from the stairs to me.

I kissed him in reply.

Perhaps life on a French farm wouldn’t be too boring for my sisters after all.

Perhaps my mother would finally be happy, rested, and enjoying her work.

Perhaps all I needed was to be brave enough to make that first stitch in the tapestry of Claude and my destinies.

Epilogue

2 Years Later

The wind was brisk.

It shook the thick canopy of green leaves overhead as it rustled the diploma in my hands. Funny thing but when I’d fantasized about someday graduating college the diploma that I’d get would be in English. Never, in any of those young Kinder dreams, had I ever imagined the parchment handed to me by the man I was currently living with would be in French. That my whole life was now firmly French only added to the unreal aspect of the moment while filling my soul with the warmth of completion. This was right. All of it. Everything. My schooling, my relationship, my new status as a French citizen thanks to graduating from Barrons.

Sure I’d barely squeaked by the language proficiency test even with tutoring from Claude, but I’d aced the civic knowledge exam so go Kinder! Income was not an issue either. I’d never been arrested and the primary center of my life was now and would always be in France. Everything I loved was here. I’d always have a warm spot for the US and had been thrilled to be have dual citizenship but other than travelling back to the States for fashion shows France was now the center of my universe.

My sight left the lone tree in the quad to drop to my degree. I’d read it a dozen times in the past hour as commencement wound down, but now out here, alone save for the tree and the wind, I read it aloud for the first time…

“Académie de mode Barrons, en reconnaissance de la réussite du cursus requis et sur recommandation certifiée du corps enseignant, le conseil d’administration a décerné à Kinder Graham, en reconnaissance du respect satisfaisant des conditions requises, l’obtention du diplôme de mode. Avec les droits, honneurs et privilèges qui y sont attachés. Fait le 15 juin de l’année—”

“You’re still not fully grasping the acceptance of silent letters,” Claude called as he and Pamplemousse entered the quad. The dog bouncing over to me for a scratch before trotting off to ferret out killer earthworms in the flower beds. We’d gotten close over the past couple of years. He hardly ever nipped me anymore. The school groundskeeper hadn’t missed the Chihuahua in the bold black vest digging up his flowers I was sure.

“Hey, I passed the language test,” I fired back then moved my father’s hat from the bench we’d spent so many nights sitting on two years ago.

“How is it you American’s—”

“I’m dual now baby,” I teased as he sat down beside me looking too damn fine in a sleek black suit with a green tie that made his hazel eyes pop. There were no robes and mortarboards for this graduation. Just perfectly tailored professional attire. I’d made my own suit to wear, obvs, and it looked great. Claude had said so last night then peeled it off me before going to his knees to suck me off. He did get hot seeing me in suits for some reason…