Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
The next few days flew by in a blur as I finalized plans for the estate, ticking off small details before my departure. I was leaving the house in good hands—Jacques, the contractor, had taken the reins and would finish the aesthetic work in my absence. Remi would undoubtedly oversee everything. The permits from the historic preservation department were still pending, but that was a problem for another day. If there was one thing I'd learned here, it was that not every problem demanded immediate attention.
I swiped on my favorite red lipstick and tousled my hair into soft waves. Everyone had insisted on one final celebration before I left, and I wasn't about to argue.
Stepping onto the chateau's back deck, I caught my breath. The setting Proven?al sun bathed the rolling vineyards in a warm, golden glow, creating a scene worthy of a postcard. I paused, taking in the view with a mix of awe and bittersweet emotion.
The terrace's centerpiece was a long, weathered wooden table that seemed to stretch endlessly. A delicate ivory lace runner accentuated its natural beauty. Mismatched vintage china plates in soft pastels were carefully arranged at each setting, their eclectic mix somehow perfectly coordinated. Antique silver cutlery gleamed beside each plate, catching the fading sunlight. Crystal wine glasses stood ready, refracting light into tiny rainbows on the ivory tablecloth.
I leaned in to inhale the sweet scent of the centerpieces. Mason jars filled with sprigs of dried lavender and fall wildflowers were artfully scattered along the table. I made a mental note to remember this fragrance, to carry it with me when I left.
Overhead, strings of warm, golden fairy lights crisscrossed to create a twinkling canopy. Vintage lanterns with flickering candles lined the deck's perimeter, casting a soft, romantic glow. The effect was enchanting, as if I'd stepped into a fairy tale.
My gaze was drawn to a rustic wooden bar cart near the table. It showcased a selection of the estate's finest wines, bottles artfully arranged with their labels facing outward. A few stood open, breathing in decorative decanters that caught the light beautifully. Beside them, a small chalkboard listed the evening's selection in elegant script.
I spotted Félicité flitting about like a little fairy, putting the finishing touches on everything.
"Félicité, this looks incredible. It's more like a five-star gala than a farewell party for me," I said.
She beamed, surveying her handiwork. "I always wanted to do party planning, you know?"
I laughed lightly. "I didn't know that. You have an incredible talent for it. Why didn't you pursue it?"
A hint of sadness clouded her expression. She sighed and shrugged. "Papa always said it wasn't an acceptable profession."
My laughter faded as I realized she was serious. "Really?"
She sighed again. "He said I should aim to be the kind of woman who hired people to plan parties, not someone who planned parties for people better than me."
I winced. "That's harsh."
"That was Papa. He was a little arrogant. Bit of a classist, very anti-French, really." She laughed.
"You should pursue it. You have an incredible talent if this is even a glimpse of what you're capable of." I rested my hand on her arm. She lowered her eyes sheepishly, her cheeks reddening. Though she wasn't one to show much emotion, I could see the happiness in her eyes at the suggestion.
"Maybe I will. This has been really fun. I'm not sure how fun it would be for a bunch of fussy old rich people, but maybe it's worth a shot. It's better than what I've been doing."
I smiled. "I'm pretty sure you'll kill it at anything you try. You're just one of those people."
"The whole time I was setting this up, I had to pretend it wasn't for you leaving."
I sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. It is very abrupt."
She nodded. "It does feel a bit fast. But I understand. I think we all do, even if we don't accept it." She smiled weakly. "I just hope you won't disappear from our lives. It's been incredible getting to know you. I have a big sister after all these years. Please promise."
I took her hand and squeezed. "I promise. Meeting you all—you have no idea what it's meant to me. You have no idea how much it's rebuilt inside me. Something that was very broken." I felt my voice quivering and snapped my mouth shut to keep from breaking down. It was too early in the night, and I hadn't had nearly enough wine for that.
Speaking of wine, the distinctive pop of a champagne cork startled us. We snuck around to see a large metal ice bucket filled to the brim with bottles.
"You're either expecting a lot more guests or quite the party based on the amount of wine in that bucket," I said.
Félicité flashed me a conspiratorial look and wiggled her eyebrows. "You can never be too prepared. This is France."
The opening notes of Be Our Guest from Beauty and the Beast played in my mind.
étienne was already filling up the glasses for us, and he handed the first one to me.
"For the big sister we never knew we needed," he said.
I raised my glass. "Is that my grand toast for the evening?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "We shall see how much of this I consume in the next hour."
I laughed and pressed the glass to my lips, savoring the rich, smoky taste of true French champagne.
"I have to say I'll probably miss the wine here more than anything."
étienne pressed a hand to his heart dramatically. "If I also did not revere our wine so much, I might be offended. But I shall let the trespass slip."
The gentle notes of an acoustic guitar floated through the air then, drawing my attention to the corner.
"And what's this?" I asked.
Félicité grinned like a fox. "That's André. He plays evenings at my favorite café in Douce Ville . I knew I had to have him here."
I glanced at André, who was lost in his own flow, his fingers moving deftly over the strings, transitioning smoothly into a classic French tune. The music created a nostalgic yet modern ambiance that perfectly suited the occasion.
"It's perfect. Truly," I said, my heart overflowing. "How many people did you invite? I don’t actually know anyone."
She shrugged. "Just the entire village." She winked. "Don’t worry. Just us, Remi, Vanessa, Colette, and Eric, of course. Oh, and Danielle. She and Régis have decided to make a go of it. Your family."
My chest tightened. My family.
“Ah! Colette just won’t stop working. I hired staff so she could actually relax and she’s over there carrying trays.” She muttered something in French, then rushed off to where Colette was setting platters down on the long table.
I chuckled. I doubted Colette would know what to do with herself if she wasn’t helping.
With my champagne in hand, I walked to the edge of the deck, looking out over the vineyards. In the distance, I could make out the silhouettes of neighboring properties, pinpricks of light dotting the landscape. The breeze carried the earthy scent of the vines, mingled with the lavender from the table and the enticing aromas of the feast behind me.
I closed my eyes, committing every detail to memory—the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses, the feel of the warm breeze on my skin, the taste of the wine lingering on my lips, the scents of Provence enveloping me. When I opened my eyes again, they were misty with unshed tears.
“Don’t pretend like you’re not going to miss this.”
The sound of Remi’s voice was like a salve.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I think I’m in love with Provence,” I said.
“Your secret is safe.”
I turned around to face him. Seeing him there, shadowed in the twilight, my whole body ached.
“Félicité has really outdone herself. I had no idea she was such a hostess,” he said.
"I know. She has a talent. If you ever host events at your place, you'll have to keep her in mind."
"Elodie! Remi!" Félicité called out. "Food is ready!"
“Let the fun begin,” I said.