Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
That afternoon, I found étienne, Régis, and Félicité lounging in the back on a set of chaise longues, a bottle of rosé between them in a sweating ice bucket. This house seemed to have an endless supply of it. Félicité was leaning back with wide sunglasses and an oversized hat blocking out the sun. Her long, tanned legs peeked out from her tiny navy shorts.
étienne and Régis were engaged in animated conversation.
I suddenly wondered if any of them actually had jobs. I hadn’t really thought to ask.
As I approached, they looked up, offering weak smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes. The tension from the previous night still hung in the air like a fine mist, but I was determined not to let it dampen my spirits.
“ Bonjour ,” I offered.
“ Bonjour ,” they all three said in turn.
“Do you have a minute?” I asked.
“If we say non, will you go away?” Régis asked.
Félicité threw an ice cube at him. “Ignore him. He needs a nap.”
I forced a laugh. “I was hoping you would all still be here.”
“We’ve all taken a little vacation time until this whole matter is—settled,” Félicité said.
I nodded and dropped into a spare patio chair.
“I didn’t think to ask—what is it you all do?”
“Ah, she does care,” Régis teased. étienne smirked.
“I work at a boutique in Marseille. A little place that sells art and clothes,” Félicité said.
“That sounds lovely,” I said, images of my own shop coming to mind. The smells and the happy customers.
She shrugged. “It’s a job.”
“That’s what happens when you go to art school,” étienne said dryly.
Félicité tossed a small rock at him. “Oh yes, working in wine distribution is terribly sexy.”
“It pays the rent,” étienne said. “What a job is supposed to do.”
“I like my job,” Régis said.
“Because you meet all the girls,” Félicité said, wiggling her eyebrows.
I laughed. “Where do you work?”
“At a hotel in Marseille. I work in the staffing department. I like meeting lots of people.”
“Meeting all the girls,” Félicité echoed.
“So, I’ve been thinking a lot about what we discussed yesterday. I know this whole situation is... unusual for everyone," I began, acutely aware of their eyes upon me. "But I want you to know that I didn't come here to cause trouble. I arrived with no expectations at all. Yet here we are." I paused, meeting each of their gazes in turn. "Rather than seeing this as a cause for conflict, why don't we try to see it as an opportunity?"
I saw incredulity spread across étienne's face, his eyebrows arching skeptically, but I pressed on. "I know things were tense last night. But after a very good night’s sleep, I woke up with a certain... clarity."
“What kind of clarity?” étienne asked briskly.
"I've decided to stay. I'm going to restore the vineyard. Renovate the chateau. I want to give this place the love and care that Pierre would have in his final years."
Régis looked at me skeptically. “Do you actually know anything about renovations?”
I sighed. “Not exactly. But Remi—”
“Remi Chastain?” étienne asked incredulously.
“Ahh, maybe? I don’t know his last name. The winemaker next door?” I said.
étienne muttered something in French to Régis and Félicité.
“Anyway. We got to talking, and he said he would recommend some trusted contractors,” I said.
“Why would Boivin want to help?” Régis asked, snickering.
“Boi-van?” I repeated the word.
“It means, like—wine drinker,” Félicité said. “It is just a stupid nickname the boys have for Remi.”
I was beginning to think there was some sour blood between my brothers and Remi.
“I think he really cared for Pierre,” I said.
There was a thick, extended silence.
"And then what?" étienne asked, his tone sharp enough to cut glass. “After you slap a pretty coat of paint on her, then what?”
I met his gaze steadily. "I'm not entirely sure yet. But I'm going to take my time with it. I want to know this place, to understand my history— our history. Because whether you like it or not, we are family. Your father was my father. Your grandfather was my grandfather. That's a part of my story that I deserve to know, to understand."
They stared at me, a mix of emotions playing across their faces. Régislooked thoughtful, while étienne's expression was a storm of conflicting feelings. But it was Félicité who surprised me most—a hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes.
“And you can pay for this?” Régis asked.
“Jean Allard went over the additional funds set aside for me. I plan on using some of that money for the restorations.”
They exchanged a look as though this shocked them. They really did think I was just here to cash out.
I took a deep breath, one more proposition on my mind. "I was also hoping that—that you might be able to assist me. Not financially,” I clarified. “Just with some of the logistics. Obviously, my French isn’t very good, and I don’t know the first thing about permits and the like.
A moment of silence fell over the patio, broken only by the gentle rustling of vineyard leaves in the morning breeze. I could almost see the gears turning in their heads, my admission clearly catching them off guard. I had a feeling they'd all expected me to immediately put the chateau on the market, collect my inheritance, and vanish back to America. It might have been the more reasonable thing to do, but deep in my heart, I knew it wasn't the right path for me.
"Grandfather would have loved that," Félicité finally said, her voice soft with a mix of surprise and approval. "I think it's a wonderful idea. This place has been crying out for some attention for far too long. We should all be grateful."
She flashed her brothers a look that could have withered a grape on the vine. étienne and Régisexchanged glances, then sighed and nodded in unison.
"I'm sure he would really appreciate that," étienne said, his earlier hostility softening slightly. "Let us know what we can do to help."
“Have you ever done any kind of remodel?” Régis asked.
I sighed and shook my head, a rueful smile tugging at my lips. "Well, my boyfriend and I were doing a small remodel on our kitchen, but that's about the extent of it."
They all stopped and looked up at me, and I realized what I had said. The words hung in the air like a sudden thunderclap on a clear day.
"You live with a boyfriend?" étienne said, his eyebrows shooting up.
"Oh, ex-boyfriend, I guess," I quickly amended, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.
"You live with your ex-boyfriend?" Régis asked, confusion etched across his face.
"I—no. I mean, we don't live together. Anymore. We just broke up, and—it's messy. Long story." The words tumbled out, each one seeming to tangle with the next.
An awkward silence descended, broken only by the distant trill of a songbird.
"Relationships suck," Félicité said matter-of-factly, a wry smile playing at her lips. "Not that I've ever been in a serious one. But we've certainly seen how bad a breakup can be. Firsthand."
"It's messy," I admitted, grateful for her attempt to lighten the mood. "We were together for a while, but it just didn't work out, you know? Everything's been as amicable as I suppose it can be." The lies flowed easily, but I couldn't bring myself to explain the whole situation right then. I found myself starting to ramble and quickly shut my mouth, certain they didn't care about my complicated life back home.
But to my surprise, étienne raised his wine glass. "Congratulations, then," he said, his voice unexpectedly warm. "For moving on. For starting anew. It's a hard thing to do."
I blinked, taken aback by his sudden goodwill. "Thank you," I said softly. "It's been difficult but ultimately the best thing."
"Cheers to that," Félicité said, raising her own cup. "Now you can find out who you really are without some stupid boy bringing you down." She flashed a playful glare at both her brothers.
Find out who I was without Evan. The concept struck me like a bolt of lightning. How long had it been since I'd even asked myself that question?
"Where will you start then?" Régisasked, pulling me from my reverie. "With the house, I mean."
I sighed, my eyes trailing over the massive chateau and the expansive land surrounding it. The morning sun glinted off the weathered stones, highlighting every crack and imperfection. "Honestly, I have no idea. I think the first thing I need to do is get to know the place. Figure out what actually needs to be done. This place is huge. I mean, you should see my tiny bungalow back home."
They all smiled and nodded, their eyes sweeping over the building with a mix of pride and nostalgia.
"She is a big property," Félicité agreed, her voice tinged with affection. "But once you get to know her, you'll know every nook and cranny intimately. I can show you around."
"You should be prepared, though," étienne cautioned, his earlier hostility now replaced with a hint of concern. "The place is very old, and I don't think grandfather kept it up much at all. I'm sure there's piping that needs to be replaced. Plumbing. Crumbling walls. Once you get into it, be prepared to be in it for the long haul."
His words made my stomach do a somersault as I thought of my struggle to even replace the wiring in our dining room light fixture back home. But despite the daunting task ahead, I felt a surge of determination. Maybe this was exactly what I needed— a monumental challenge to distract me from my crumbling life back in California.
Félicité reached for an empty glass and tipped the rosé into it. She handed it to me.
“I think this deserves a toast then.”
"Well," I said, raising my glass with a newfound resolve, "here's to new beginnings and old chateaus. I guess it's time to roll up my sleeves and get to work."
My siblings—the word was starting to feel less strange—raised their glasses in return.
“May the odds be ever in her favor,” Régis said with a teasing smirk.