Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
As the last of the dessert debris was cleared away, the musician, André, switched from his mellow dinner repertoire to something with a bit more pep. The opening chords of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" filled the air, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Apparently, André’s idea of upbeat party music was stuck firmly in the '80s.
"Oh, come on, étienne!" Félicité’s voice rose above the music. I turned to see her tugging insistently on our brother’s arm.
"Non. I’m not twenty anymore. I don’t dance."
"Nonsense," Félicité declared, giving one final yank that nearly toppled étienne off his chair. "Everyone dances. Some just do it better than others."
I watched, grinning, as Félicité dragged a stumbling étienne onto our makeshift dance floor. His movements were stiff and awkward, like a marionette with tangled strings. Félicité, on the other hand, moved with the fluid grace of someone who’d never experienced a self-conscious moment in her life.
"Looking good, étienne!" I called out, giving him a thumbs up. He shot me a glare.
"Don’t encourage her," he grumbled, narrowly avoiding stepping on Félicité’s toes.
As Whitney Houston gave way to Madonna, I found myself swaying to the music, the remnants of champagne in my system making everything feel a bit fuzzy around the edges.
"Elodie!" Félicité called, waving me over. "Come show us some American dance moves!"
I laughed, shaking my head. "Trust me, you don’t want to see that."
"Oh, but we do," Régis chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Show us how they dance across the Atlantic."
Suddenly, I was surrounded by expectant faces. Even étienne looked relieved at the prospect of no longer being the center of attention.
"Alright, alright," I conceded as an idea came to me. I stepped into the middle of the group. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you. We’re going to do some good old-fashioned American line dancing."
Everyone groaned as I turned to André. "Got any country music in your repertoire?"
André grinned as everyone else grumbled.
He launched into a passable rendition of "Achy Breaky Heart."
I threw André a look. “Is that what you think of me? Okay, fine. Everyone, line up and follow me."
What followed was possibly the most ridiculous and uncoordinated display of dancing Provence had ever seen. I called out steps—"Grapevine right! Two steps back! Pivot turn!"—while everyone else was laughing so hard they could barely stand up.
"This is madness!" Régis exclaimed, laughing as he narrowly avoided a collision with Colette. "Are you sure this is dancing and not some strange American workout routine?"
I caught Remi’s eye, and he was watching me with an expression that was part horror, part absolute pleasure.
Then Félicité stumbled into me, breaking the spell as we nearly fell over.
As the song wound down, everyone collapsed into laughter and applause.
Breathless and grinning, I approached Remi. "Come on," I said, holding out my hand. "You can’t stand on the sidelines all night."
He hesitated for a moment, and I thought he might refuse. Then, slowly, he reached out and took my hand. His palm was warm against mine, slightly calloused from work in the vineyard.
"I’m not much of a dancer."
I laughed, the sound bubbling up from a place of pure joy.
"Neither am I," I admitted.
"I can tell," he teased.
I playfully slapped his arm.
"But tonight, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care what I’m good at tonight."
"You’ve come a long way," he said.
I tilted my head. "What does that mean?"
An easy smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "When you first got here, you were—unsure of yourself. Nervous. On edge. Now, you’re so confident. So sure."
"Thank you. Remi, I—”
"Photos! We must take photos!" Félicité’s voice cut through the moment.
Remi and I both laughed.
“Doomed to interruption,” he said. He gently brushed my cheek.
"Come on, everyone!" Félicité cried out. "Wait, wait!" She disappeared into the house, only to return moments later with a Polaroid camera that looked like it had seen better days... probably sometime in the 1970s. "We must use this! It's tradition!"
I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm pretty sure that thing is older than I am."
Félicité waved off my comment with a flick of her wrist. "Pfft! Age brings character. To wine, to cameras, and to charming French families," she added with a wink. She handed the ancient contraption to étienne, who muttered a few choice French curses.
We took turns posing together, the midnight vineyard sprawling in the background. étienne, muttering curses under his breath that would make a sailor blush, arranged us in front of the tree. I found myself sandwiched between étienne and Remi, the warmth of their shoulders against mine a stark reminder of how much had changed since I first arrived in Provence.
"Alright, everyone!" étienne called out. "Say 'fromage'!"
"Fromage!" we chorused, and I couldn't help but add, "But not Bordeaux!" which earned me a playful nudge from Remi.
The flash went off, momentarily blinding us all.
"Another!" Colette insisted. "Do something silly!"
Before I knew what was happening, Remi had hoisted me up and put me on his shoulders. I yelped as he lifted me like a rag doll. My insides warmed at the feel of his broad shoulders corded with sinew.
Not to be outdone, Danielle leaped into Régis’ arms bridal-style, nearly toppling them both over in the process.
"You are all absurd," étienne said, shaking his head but unable to contain his laughter.
“You don’t get off so easy,” Vanessa said, leaping onto his back.
The resulting photo was a blurry mess of limbs and laughter, but somehow it captured the joyous chaos of the evening perfectly.
"One more," Régis insisted as étienne shook out the latest Polaroid. "A proper one this time."
étienne set the camera on the tripod and set the timer. We rearranged ourselves once more, smoothing down hair and straightening collars. As we settled into place, I felt an arm slip around my waist. I looked up to see Remi beside me, his touch light but unmistakable. On my other side, Félicité linked her arm through mine, while étienne rested his hand on my shoulder.
étienne called out, “ Un, deux, trois !"
The flash went off.
"That one is for the mantel," I said as a massive yawn escaped me, setting off a chain reaction through the group. Suddenly, the lateness of the hour seemed to catch up with everyone at once.
"I think," Colette said, stifling a yawn, "it's time I called it a night."
Danielle echoed her yawn. “This baby wanted to be asleep hours ago.” She smiled sleepily.
étienne let out a low whistle. "It looks like a wine tornado hit this place."
Félicité groaned dramatically. "Must we clean now? Can't we just... I don't know, move to a new vineyard instead?"
Régis chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Come now, where's that famous French resilience?"
"I think it drowned in the bottom of a wine bottle about three hours ago," she grumbled, but there was no real heat in her words.
"No, no. Don’t worry about the cleanup," Colette said. "Help me bring in the perishables, and we will tackle it tomorrow. Go, get some rest."