The First Noël at the Villa des Violettes

by Patricia Sands

  From the very first time Philippe brought her to the tumbledown vestiges, she’d felt the potential in the place. She had sensed his sadness in the way his family home had been abandoned and fallen into disrepair. It had been easy for her to see the love Philippe had for what once had been.

  She had been surprised at how quickly she had connected with the property. In a cave that had once stored wine under the house, they had discovered leather trunks and wooden boxes, filled with tattered journals and boxes of grainy, sepia photos, similar to ones she had discovered at the brocantes. These treasures offered them a sense of how life had once been at the villa.

  Just as together she and Philippe had brought new life to each other, they would be accomplishing the same with the Villa des Violettes. They had chosen the name after Kat was surprised by the masses of blue and purple sweet violets that carpeted the property in the spring, perfuming the air with their strong heady scent.

  Leaving her reflections to float away on a light breeze, Kat went into the kitchen to make a lemon and blueberry clafoutis. She had frozen the berries that summer after Philippe raved about a recipe she had discovered on one of her favorite cooking websites.

  11

  Tires crunched on the gravel driveway. The sound filtered in through the open windows, heralding a welcome arrival to the villa.

  Kat flew through the rooms to the front door, almost bumping into Philippe on his way there from the salon. He pulled open the heavy wooden doors just as Bernadette’s sedan drew to a stop.

  Andrew leapt from the car to pull Kat into a bear hug. He shook Philippe’s hand warmly before turning to help Bernadette with his luggage.

  “Non, non, monsieur!” she sharply rebuked him, as she wagged her finger. “Eet’s my job!” Then she gave him a sly smile and a wink. His bags were on the ground before he had a chance to touch them.

  Giving Kat and Philippe quick bises, she motioned to Andrew, saying, “Now ’e is a fine young man!” Then she waved, her bangle bracelets jingling, and was on her way.

  Andrew laughed as Kat threw her arms around him again. “It’s been too long! I’m so happy to see you!” Holding her nephew at arm’s length, she surveyed him up and down. “You look great, and we can’t wait to hear about this new undertaking of yours. From what your mom tells us, there’s an added incentive in your returning to Ukraine.” She finished the sentence with a sparkle in her eye.

  Andrew blushed. “You might say that, Aunt Kat.”

  After the men greeted each other, Philippe picked up the bags, nodding for Andrew and Kat to go in first. “We have champagne chilling. But you might want to rest after your flight. I will take your bags to your room, and Kat can give you a quick tour along the way.”

  “I would love to see all the changes since the wedding!” Last May, Andrew had flown to Antibes with all of Kat’s family and friends when Nick had chartered a private plane as a wedding surprise. They spent a moment reminiscing how Kat and Philippe’s über-wealthy and generous friend, Nicholas Field, had gone out of his way to make good things happen.

  “He’s an inspiration to all of us when it comes to paying it forward,” Kat remarked, as Andrew agreed. “We can’t wait until he returns from Australia in the spring.”

  In the foyer where they were still standing, Kat turned Andrew so he could see her mother’s treasured Persian carpet hanging in a place of honor.

  She watched his eyes glisten with emotion as he laid his hands on the carpet. “Just like Néni would do,” he said softly, using the Hungarian word for aunt. He reached out and pulled Kat into a hug. “It’s so lovely to see it here.”

  Kat smiled her agreement. “A simple carpet with a strong spirit living within.”

  They shared a look of understanding that was interrupted by the sound of barking down the hall. “Next, I need to meet those pups of yours. After watching them grow on Skype, I want to get up close and personal with them. Besides, I can hear them calling me!”

  Kat laughed. The pups were definitely making a lot of noise in the mudroom, where they had been waiting impatiently. Duly warned, Andrew got down on the floor in the salon, and Philippe let the pups out.

  “Let me just move those champagne glasses on the coffee table until the greeting is over,” Kat said. “Those tails can wipe any surface clean in a flash!”

  The next few minutes were a flurry of activity as Coco and Rocco were all over Andrew. Animal lover that he was, he only encouraged their exuberant welcome. The pups would alternate dashing to Kat or Philippe for a nuzzle, and then leap on Andrew, in spite of words from their owners.

  “As you can see, they still have to work on their ‘petiquette,’” Kat said, “and we still have a way to go with obedience school.”

  After a few minutes, both pups settled in a pile on Andrew’s outstretched legs, after clambering over each other a few times to achieve the optimal position.

  When the laughter and ruckus had calmed, conversation continued as Andrew stroked the furry heads and backs. Two tails wagged contentedly. “Now I truly feel at home. There’s nothing like a dog to make me feel welcome.”

  “I would say they approve you are here,” Kat agreed. “Let us know when your legs are falling asleep!”

  After sharing bits of news with each other, Andrew said, “I hate to disturb my two new best friends, but I’d love a quick shower. Then I’ll be ready for whatever you have planned.”

  Philippe went into the kitchen and called the pups to him. “So much for loyalty when dog treats are a possibility!” Andrew said with a laugh as they dashed off. Kat nodded her agreement.

  “Take your time. Enjoy your shower and give us a shout when you are ready for champagne,” Kat told him. “We’ll be puttering about.”

  She folded her nephew into another warm embrace. “I’m so glad you are here,” Kat murmured.

  “So am I, Aunt Kat. So am I.”

  Andrew had first met Philippe, briefly, over a year before, when he had flown to Antibes for a quick stop on his way from Toronto to Ukraine. At that time, Philippe and Kat had not yet been lovers.

  After those few days in Antibes, Andrew and Kat had left to make an emotional journey to Kat’s parents’ and Andrew’s grandfather’s small village in Ukraine. Their ancestors had lived there for generations. Only after Elisabeth, widowed for many years, died two years before, leaving behind a heartrending letter, did they learn the details of how she had managed to avoid being sent to a concentration camp and how her husband, Jozsef, and his brother, Andrew’s grandfather, had aided in her escape. None of that older generation had spoken of those years with their families.

  The emotions of that visit had taken a toll on Kat. As she walked the streets where her mother had lived and played as a child, she could not help visualizing her and the other Jews being rounded up by the Gestapo. First they were herded from their homes into a ghetto, and later put on to trains headed for the horrific death camp, Auschwitz.

  Images were seared in Kat’s memory by the painful words in Elisabeth’s letter. Kat knew that family history would forever be a part of her. It was the reason Elisabeth and Jozsef had chosen to live secular lives and raise Kat in the same manner. Through the pain of her mother’s disclosures and the resulting awareness of the truth, she had grown in compassion and become a stronger woman. It had not been easy. There had been floods of tears along the way.

  But Kat had left her nephew behind earlier than planned as she fled back to Antibes, unable to handle the emotional impact of the terrible history any longer. Andrew was an agricultural engineering student and was inspired to remain and volunteer with a farming co-op.

  Andrea recently had told Kat that Andrew had met a young woman in that small town. A very special young woman named Magda. After a quick visit back home to Toronto to attend his graduation, Andrew was returning to a paid position at the co-op. No less importantly, he was returning to be with Magda.

  12

  One hour later, Kat, Philippe, and Andrew were comfo
rtably lounging in the salon, sipping champagne. Toasts had been made and news from Kat’s former home shared.

  The pups had taken their positions on either side of Andrew’s feet, resuming their roles as his official greeters. Philippe had given them a good walk and then a run in the garden, so they were suitably tired and chewed contentedly on their favorite elk antler bits.

  Andrew absentmindedly scratched the pups’ ears as he chatted, making certain he gave them equal attention. “I already feel completely at home here. I’m amazed how far you’ve come.”

  Katherine and Philippe both smiled in acknowledgment.

  “Merci bien, Andrew! As you can imagine, it has been all-consuming! And we’ve had some good luck with the crew we hired,” Philippe responded.

  “Apparently so! Mom told me about the issue with the Roman ruins in the parking lot. How cool is that?”

  “Cool—but it’s meant a delay with the restoration of the stable. They couldn’t bring in certain equipment,” Kat added, with a shrug. “C’est la vie!”

  An olive-wood platter sat on the coffee table with crostini and two types of pâté. The country-style, robust-flavored pâté forestière was surrounded by small pickled onions and cornichons. The other, a silky duck pâté, was accompanied by a delicately flavored onion marmalade. A colorful bowl of tapenade sat next to this, with freshly sliced baguette in a basket.

  “Mmm, I was hoping you would have tapenade,” Andrew said. “If you recall, I became obsessed with it last year and remember you doing the same. For two people who weren’t olive fans, we were won over.”

  Kat chuckled. “I remember that very clearly! I also recall you introducing all the other Canadians to it at our wedding feast.”

  “Oh, there are so many fine memories from that wedding!” Andrew exclaimed, his face lighting up. “It feels like it was just yesterday.”

  “We just celebrated our seventh monthiversary,” Philippe said. “That’s another word your aunt has taught me—after weekiversary.”

  Andrew laughed. “I know exactly where she learned those words, and I can assure you, from what I’ve seen watching my parents, they go a long way to keeping a marriage happy.”

  “That’s right,” Kat confirmed, and her eyes shone as her heart swelled with affection. “Your parents are my marriage role models.”

  They raised their champagne flutes and toasted.

  “Here’s to our happy marriage,” Philippe said, “and to Andrea and Terrence … and to you, Andrew, for being here with us. We are delighted to welcome you.”

  “Speaking of celebrating,” Andrew said, as he reached for a bag at his feet, “I have some goodies from Canada for both of you.”

  He unwound bubble wrap and handed a large glass bottle filled with rich dark amber liquid to Philippe.

  “Bravo! Your dad’s addictive maple syrup. He remembered how much I loved it last winter!” Philippe cried. “Do I have to share?”

  They all laughed. “Just share a little with me once, please,” Kat pleaded. “Then you can hoard the rest. It’s okay. I’ve enjoyed a lot of Terrence’s special syrup through the years. But you will want to ration it.”

  “And Mom sent this jar of her strawberry jam—for your croissants, she said,” Andrew continued.

  Philippe grinned. “I predict more hoarding!”

  Andrew turned his attention to carefully unwrapping some small items. He turned to his aunt and handed one to her.

  Katherine exclaimed with pleasure as her eyes teared up. “That Andrea … your mom … so thoughtful … I considered asking her to send these a few times, but thought they wouldn’t make it in the mail. They are so fragile.”

  “Trust me, Mom made me promise to keep those in my carry-on bag and not let it out of my sight!”

  As though she was holding a baby bird in her palm, Katherine showed the delicate, hand-painted glass angels to Philippe, one after the other. Then she gently placed them back on the bubble wrap.

  “These are truly important relics of my childhood. They take me back to my earliest memories. My parents went out of their way to make Christmas the most meaningful time.”

  Andrew continued to unwrap more decorations from the bag. There were also the tiny silver bells that Kat’s father had used to call her to see the decorated Christmas tree. Finally, he presented Kat with a box of small white candles and the brass holders on which they would sit, clipped to the tree branches and lit on Christmas Eve.

  Katherine’s face shone with happiness. Surrounded by so many treasures from the past, more memories tumbled through her mind. She could almost smell the mix of spicy and sweet aromas her mother’s gingerbread wafted through the house and the buttery brown sugar goodness of her shortbread. There was never a Christmas without them.

  “And one more thing!” Andrew announced, grinning, as he handed Kat one last bubble-wrapped bundle.

  “Candy canes from the Mennonite sweet shop! You thought of everything, my boy!” Kat cried as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you a thousand times over. I can’t wait to decorate the tree!”

  Katherine felt her holiday anxieties begin to fade. Andrew’s presence and the sudden appearance of these cherished Christmas keepsakes from her past, brought with them something that strengthened her spirit. She felt her old confidence begin to build again.

  “Now you can blend some of your Canadian Christmas with our traditions,” Philippe said. “Merci, Andrew!” He clapped Andrew heartily on the back, as Katherine got up to give her nephew a long hug.

  “This is the best surprise! Thanks so much! Let’s Skype your parents after dinner. I want to thank them, too.”

  At the mention of dinner, Philippe went into the kitchen. He had marinated the fish and stuffed it with fennel, garlic, and lemon slices.

  Kat had an artichoke dish baking in the oven that she had prepared while Andrew showered. A salad of fresh greens was waiting to be seasoned and dressed with olive oil and more lemon juice. Philippe’s cheese selections and Kat’s clafoutis would complete the meal.

  “Ten minutes on the grill, and we will be good to go!”

  Andrew intrigued them with stories of the months he had spent working in the Ukrainian village. “Life is so different there. The people have so little and yet are so positive about what they do have. I learn lessons from them every day. I feel myself changing in many ways. Surprisingly, I have no desire to leave—and not purely because of Magda.” He blushed as he added the last words.

  The tales continued until Katherine noticed Andrew politely stifling yawns.

  “I think jet lag is kicking in, sweetheart. Why don’t we call it a night?”

  “Sorry!” Andrew apologized, looking sheepish. “I was hoping it wasn’t obvious. But you are so right. I’m about to fall off my chair.”

  “Bonne idée,” Philippe agreed. “Morning comes early around here. Sleep well, my boy! We are so glad you are here.”

  “I’m glad, too. Thanks so much for a great evening!”

  “Bonne nuit!”

  “Good night!”

  “Sweet dreams, and feel free to sleep in,” Kat said. “We will play everything by ear!”

  Later, after she slipped into a silk nightgown, Kat gave Philippe a sultry look and climbed into bed, where he was waiting. She pressed gently into him, playing her fingers over his chest and covering his face with soft kisses. “Now, I believe we left off with a promise in the guest room a few hours ago.”

  “Mon coeur, you know I always keep my promise,” he murmured as his lips met hers.

  13

  When Katherine walked into the kitchen early the next morning, she could not help grinning at the plate of Simone’s madeleines sitting on the island.

  It was obvious that Philippe had helped himself before leaving for work. Next to the plate was a box containing a half-dozen pastries. The promised delivery service from the boulangerie appeared to be operating efficiently.

  Andrew poked his head out from his bedroom. “I’ll be
in the kitchen soon, Aunt Kat.”

  “No rush! Take your time.”

  Morning sun shone through the east-facing windows. It illuminated the limestone top of the island and was like a spotlight on the amber vase, from her favorite glassmaking studio in Biot. She and Philippe had spent an afternoon in that charming town for her birthday in November.

  Andrew appeared as promised a short while later. The pups had already decided he was family and greeted him enthusiastically. Laughing, he spent a few minutes tossing their toys around and giving them robust rubs.

  Then his eyes lit up as he moved toward the plate of pastries and the somewhat diminished batch of madeleines. He took his time savoring the flavors as he sampled a few, accompanied by expressions of pleasure. Kat explained how that all happened with the contribution of Simone’s baking and the help of Didier’s delivery crew.

  “Oh, to have such thoughtful neighbors! I’m ready to start the day, Aunt Kat! Are you?”

  Laughing, she assured him that her day had already been well underway. “Are you certain you are up for a bike ride this morning?” she asked.

  “Definitely! We can’t waste this great weather. I didn’t expect it to be so warm, though. I may be overdressed in my lined biking jacket.”

  “Once we get into the hills, you’ll be glad you have it on.” She tucked her own jacket into her backpack and motioned for her nephew to follow her to the bikes.

  Andrew was as keen a cyclist as Kat and Philippe. He had shipped his bike to Ukraine but had all the rest of his gear with him. After dinner the night before, he had gone into the bike storage area with Philippe, and they decided which of the several bikes available he should choose.

  “I was hoping we’d have a chance to go for a ride,” he grinned. “You and Mom got me hooked as far back as I can remember.”

  Kat laughed. “You were always walking around with your helmet on, begging to bike with us whenever we were together—ever since your feet could reach the pedals.”