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“Guignol,” Élise said.
Luc’s brow rose, and his lips twitched at hearing the name. “Leave your notebook inside and let us go observe Guignol. Study him thoughtfully, look at details, then come back inside and draw what you remember. Perhaps, Pierre, you will join us?”
“Eh, oui.” Élise’s father nodded. He stood and lifted the baby high into the air and then lowered him, smiling at Adrien’s laugh. “I imagine le garçon, he would enjoy the goats as well.” His daughter took his hand, and they followed Luc outside.
“I never love my Pierre as much as when I see him with the little ones,” Sylvie said when the men and children had left. “You must feel the same, non?”
“Oui,” Julia said before she realized what she was agreeing to. She pulled her gaze away from the window overlooking the rear garden and smiled, but the sad feeling returned and, with it, an ache.
Julia set the table while Sylvie made the estouffade sauce and baked the bread. Luckily, Sylvie chatted about cooking and children and the trip they would take to the winery in Cavaillon when the grapes were ripe instead of asking more intimate questions.
By the time dinner was finished, Luc and Élise had gone out to see the goats three times. Each time, they returned and Élise set to work. She furrowed her brows, her face serious as she added to the picture. The pair would discuss the details she was uncertain about, then go back to look. Pierre and Adrien would accompany them, but Julia noticed after the second time, it was Luc’s hand Élise held as they walked down the path to the paddock.
“Come, it is time to eat,” Sylvie announced, holding up a hand to stop her daughter’s protest before it began. “Élise, you may show us your picture once dinner is finished.”
The six sat at the table. Sylvie tied Adrien into a high-backed chair with a dishtowel to keep him from falling over and sat beside him, cutting soft carrots into small pieces with her fork and putting them on the table where he could grasp them. Everything else was kept well out of the baby’s reach.
Pierre sat at the head of the small table, motioning for Luc and Julia to take the chairs on either side of him. Julia sat beside Adrien, and Élise sat across from the baby, next to Luc.
Pierre offered a prayer, and they tucked in to the meal.
The food was delicious and simple, made better by the happy surroundings and loving family.
Pierre described in detail the wagon-removal procedure, and Luc smiled at the appropriate times during the story, adding a detail here and there. But Julia could see he was still bothered. His gaze met hers a few times, but he continued to look uncomfortable.
Élise talked at length about her pictures and the goats, and as the conversation surrounded Julia, her thoughts could not be pulled from the loft in the barn and, more specifically, Luc’s unease at the situation.
“You seem tired,” Sylvie said once the meal was finished and she and Julia were cleaning the dishes. The men and children had returned to the blocks and artist’s notebook.
“All the travel, I suppose,” Julia said, hoping her hostess didn’t think her rude. She needed to shake her gloom and be polite company.
“Eh, oui.” Sylvie nodded. “And you have another day of it ahead. You will want to go to sleep early.”
Julia couldn’t bring herself to answer.
Élise revealed her goat drawing once the women joined them in the sitting area. Her parents clapped and praised the artist, making the young girl’s face glow with pride. Julia complimented her as well, pointing out specific details she could tell Élise had given particular care to.
Pierre and Luc chatted about vines and olives, and Sylvie fed the baby.
Élise’s eyes grew tired, and she laid down her head on her father’s lap.
Luc took her notebook, holding it on his lap. He sketched as he and Pierre talked.
Julia joined in on the conversation a few times but for the most part was content to listen.
After a while, Sylvie put the baby and Élise to bed. She brought blankets and pillows for Julia and Luc.
Pierre brought a lantern. “Moon’s bright, but the loft, it will be dark,” he explained.
Julia yawned.
“Thank you again for your hospitality,” Luc said. He put away the pencil and gave the notebook to Sylvie.
She glanced at the page he’d been sketching on, then looked again and gasped, pressing her palm to her chest. “Oh,mes bébés.” She turned the book around, showing a realistic sketch of Élise and Adrien. The children were beautiful.
“It is splendid,” Pierre said. He patted Luc on the shoulder. “The perfect gift. Merci, Luc.”
“They are such angels.” Sylvie took the scissors from her mending basket and carefully slit the page, removing it from the notebook. She set the picture carefully on the mantel and stepped back, clasping her hands. “I shall find a frame for it. This drawing, it is such a treasure when babies grow so quickly. I cannot thank you enough.”
