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I find all the pictures of my vineyard in France and show them the ramshackle century-old house that sits on the property. I’ve been yearning to visit the stunning countryside and revive the neglected vineyard through months of labor. The house that is sure to be drafty and full of mice by now since it’s been empty for so long.
“This is yours?” Amelia asks. I can’t read her expression to tell if she’s impressed or disgusted.
April already knew I owned the place, but this is the first time seeing what it’s really about and her face is also carefully neutral.
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s going to be amazing one day, but here’s how I see it going down. We’ve got two options unless one of you can come up with something else. One. We stay here and April and I get jobs and save up as much as we can for the next few years until we have enough money to make the renovation easier.”
“What’s option two?” April asks, scrolling through the sunset views over the fields with the house in the distance.
“We go to France now and do everything ourselves, which will be a ton of hard work. Backbreaking work. And I tell you right now, that old house has crappy heating.”
“Now,” they both say in unison, then crack up.
“Right now?” Amelia asks, standing up like she’s ready to put her stuff back in the plastic bags she brought it over in. “Like right, right now?”
April’s eyes well up with tears and she puts her hand on my arm. “How soon can we go?” she asks.
“I figure we can fast track your passports and leave in about a month, maybe sooner. My last paycheck from the club will cover everything until then. After that, who knows? It’ll be an adventure. Are you sure you’re in?”
The two girls, my two girls, look at each other with shining eyes. “We’re in,” they both say and Amelia grabs her new phone and runs into her room, babbling about her friends not being able to believe it.
Once April and I are alone in the kitchen, her hand tightens on my arm and her giddy smile has faded.
“Having second thoughts already?” I ask.
“No, never.” A glistening tear rolls down her cheek. “A vineyard in France? With you and Amelia? It’s like a dream.” Asif she still doesn’t believe it, she pinches the inside of her elbow and I reach over and smooth away the small red mark that’s left behind. “I don’t understand why, though,” she says.
“Oh, little one, don’t you?” I lean over to kiss away the salty tear. “It’s because I love you. From the moment our eyes first met at the club. I couldn’t let you go home with anyone else. And when I tried to let you go, I couldn’t. I never will. You’re mine, April.”
She shakily stands and hurries to sit on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I love you, too,” she says, and it’s the happiest moment of my life. “I just never thought my silly dream of being with the angel who saved me could ever be real.”
The kiss makes us both forget everything for a moment, our mouths colliding as her arms tighten around me to the point I can hardly breathe. “It’s real,” I tell her when we finally pull back. “It’s going to get very real.”
She laughs, sweeter than any music. “I can’t wait.”
“Then let’s go get your passport pictures taken and get the ball rolling,” I say, standing up and holding on tight so she slides down my body.
She clings around my waist and presses her face into my chest, finally smiling up at me, then she hollers for Amelia to get her butt ready to go.
We’re starting our adventure, and I can’t wait to see what happens next.
Epilogue
April
Six years later
I lean forward on the hard bench in the little gathering hall, smiling at the eight kids who are lined up to graduate after their headmaster gets done with his interminable speech. My sister, eighteen now and looking so happy she might burst in her bright blue robe, glances up from whispering with one of her classmates and catches my eye.
Even after living here in the middle of the French countryside, it’s still a little surreal to me to watch her graduate from the tiny village school. The picturesque backdrop of dark wooden beams overhead and stone walls covered in years of whitewash is stunning. I smile at her and wave and, while she gives me an eye roll, she wiggles her fingers back at me, eager to hear her name called.
She deserves every bit of happiness she’s experiencing right now and, between my pride and bittersweet sorrow that my kid sister is an adult, I have to surreptitiously wipe away a tear. The three of us worked so hard for the last six years to be able to sit comfortably on this bench, accepted into this close-knit community of people who no longer consider us foreigners,but friends. Maybe even family if the boy who’s had a crush on Amelia since we moved here gets his way.
Michael was right about how difficult the work would be. We were exhausted and broke for the first few years, but being together made it all worth it. The lack of fear, the warmth, and the love instead of the bitterness we’d had to endure before my angel husband swooped in and saved us.
Despite all the hard work and challenges, we now have a cozy home filled with our handmade crafts. The grapevines are not just growing again, but thriving, and if all keeps going smoothly, we’ll have our first harvest this fall. It’ll be rough without Amelia, and not just because we’ll have one less worker when the time comes. But she wants to go back to America for college and I support her even though it’s breaking my heart.
Her name is finally called and the smattering of applause from the small crowd of family and friends makes her cheeks burn bright. I turn to Michael, more handsome than ever with his deeply tanned skin from working outdoors and pale highlights from the sun woven into his golden hair. His muscles have always been impressive, but after years of real, hard labor, he’s truly more like a god now than just an angel.
