My Grape Year: (The Grape Series #1)

by Laura Bradbury

  “Did you enjoy it, Laura?” Madame Beaupre reached out with her finger and brushed my cheek with affection.

  “Very much. Franck’s family told me what an honour it is to attend one of these events.”

  I cursed myself. That hadn’t been at all the way I had been planning to bring up the whole Franck thing. It also made me sound like I was spending all my time there, which, although it was the case, was not the impression I wanted to give the Beaupres while we were still on such uncertain ground.

  Their faces instantly became troubled. “You two seem to be becoming very serious,” Monsieur Beaupre observed. “Too serious,” he added, bluntly. You are still our responsibility all this year, Laura. We are worried about you. I would not want Sophie dating an older American man.”

  The heels of my shoes were sinking into the mud in the courtyard. Franck was going to come and pick me up. I hoped he wouldn’t appear before I had time to try to explain…

  “Franck is…different.” I understood their concern, but I couldn’t seem to find the right words to reassure them. “His family is extremely kind. It’s—”

  “It is against the “No Dating” rule, Laura,” Madame Beaupre said gently. “You know that. We have thought a lot about this and wondered how we would feel if it were Sophie. We would be extremely uncomfortable if she became seriously involved with an older man, so far away from home.”

  “I understand that,” I began. “But—”

  Just then someone started honking his car horn imperiously. Madame Beaupre peered over towards the commotion and looked accusingly at her husband. “You parked behind those two cars, so now they can’t get out.”

  “Eh merde,” Monsieur Beaupre murmured.

  “Just…think about it, Laura,” Madame Beaupre said as they rushed towards their car. “Act prudently.”

  They sped off, and only then did I start scanning the cars for Franck. I caught sight of him at last, leaning against the door of his father’s car across the vineyards from the main gates to the chateau.

  His eyes were fixed on me and flashed in the dim light of the illuminated buildings and car headlights. I felt suddenly electrified. I began to make my way over to him.

  Prudent. He held out his arm as I neared, and then encircled my waist, pulling me against his solid chest.

  “You are so beautiful,” he murmured into the whorl of my ear. “I could never tire of watching you.”

  How could I be prudent in the face of how Franck made me feel? He held nothing back, so neither could I..

  CHAPTER 37

  It was three weeks before my plane was due to leave for Canada, ostensibly with me on it. So much had happened. A few days before this, Franck had finished the last day of his required military service and moved back from Dijon to Villers-la-Faye.

  I wasn’t being at all prudent, relatively speaking. I was, of course, spending every possible moment with him in Villers-la-Faye. One day, I stood waiting for Franck to come and pick me up once again, when Monsieur Forestier paused as he rushed out to his car for a meeting in Beaune. “Why don’t you just move to Villers-la-Faye?” he said suddenly.

  At first, I was sure it was a reproach. “I’m sorry I’ve been spending so much time there—”

  “No. I didn’t mean that.” He shook his head, impatient as ever. “I mean seriously. You only have three weeks left. You’re eighteen years old. I know my wife and I are barely ever here…we would understand.”

  All of a sudden the sublime possibility burst on me. Three uninterrupted weeks with Franck. “Really?”

  “Really,” he said. “I am not so ancient that I forget what it is like to be eighteen and madly in love.”

  I lost no time. I went right back in the house and called my parents and managed to extract their permission, although I did have to bend the truth a bit by emphasizing I was staying at Stéphanie’s house.

  That evening I was moved out of the Forestsiers and into Franck’s bedroom. After six idyllic days in Villers-la-Faye, I received a phone call from Monsieur Lacanche, my autocrat of a third host father, who also happened to have just assumed the reigns as the President of the Beaune Ursus club. I had no idea how he had found out about my move, but he was livid and informed me that I was going to be called to account for my behavior the next night at my final Ursus meeting. I tried to explain, but he didn’t give me the chance and hung up after delivering that ominous summons.

  Franck knew my dread and came up to his bedroom with me the next night to keep me company as I got changed for the meeting.

  I put on a nice pair of linen pants and my coral silk shirt.Finally, from the bottom of my suitcase, I extracted my Ursus blazer. I hadn’t worn it in several months. As I looked at the profusion of pins on it, I felt repelled, as though the jacket and I were opposing magnets. Monsieur Lacanche had made it clear that, as far as he was concerned, I had betrayed the entire Ursus club and all my host families.

  I had acted like a certain type of person to get to France—an extrovert, a rule follower, somebody who put a high priority on pleasing others.The line between that person and my true self had always been unclear. However, I was beginning to think that maybe I was none of the things the Ursus wanted me to be. Not anymore. I could continue pretending, but somewhere along the way I had lost that ability. For that, I was going to have to pay the price.

  If a middle ground existed—a way to make everyone happy—I couldn’t see it. My choice was clear: either follow the rules and miss out on spending these last two weeks with Franck—something my soul told me was vital—or break the rules and spend the rest of my life wondering.

  Franck took the blazer from my hands. “You don’t have to put this on until I drop you off. Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”

  I shook my head. “That would just complicate things. I need to do this alone.”

  Franck bit his lip. “I’ll feel like I’m letting you go into a cage of hungry lions.”

  “It won’t be that bad,” I assured Franck, trying to convince myself that maybe I could still concoct a plan that would make everyone happy. “They are probably just worried about me. It’ll be good to get everything out in the open.”

  The restaurant for my final Ursus meeting was on the far side of Beaune. Franck and I didn’t say much during the drive. He just held my hand as much as the changing of the gears allowed. As for me, I just tried to absorb as much of his love and support as I could hold. Instinct told me I would need it.

  I didn’t know what I would say or do if they were to forbid me from returning to Franck’s house that night. I wasn’t even sure they could stop me—I was eighteen. The not knowing drove me crazy, almost as much as the idea that, for the first time in my life, I was perceived as a bad girl.

  When Franck dropped me off, I could already see the Ursus members and their wives milling around the entrance to the restaurant. I took a deep breath. Franck leaned over and gave me a kiss, a quick one on the cheek in deference to our audience. He squeezed my hand.

  “I’ll go home right now and wait by the phone. As soon as you need me to come pick you up, I’ll get here as fast as I can possibly drive.”

  I squeezed back, not trusting my own voice, and then got out of the car.

  I stood for a few seconds on the circular driveway, pulling on my navy blue Ursus blazer over my shirt. It was a warm June evening and the jacket felt oppressive, just like the role I was going to have to play.

  I took a deep breath, plastered a smile on my face, and walked toward the crowd. Clearly most of them had not heard what had happened, or, if they had, didn’t care. I spotted the Forestiers in a corner and went over to them.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “Monsieur Lacanche told me how angry the Ursus members are that I moved out of your house and moved to Villers-la-Faye

  “What are you talking about?” Madame Forestier asked me in her usual efficient way. “We gave you permission to do it. My husband told me he even suggested it!”


  “Don’t you remember what I said to you?” said Monsieur Forestier. “You’re eighteen, for God’s sakes. You need to live your life.”

  “But Monsieur Lacanche said—”

  “Monsieur Lacanche est un vieux —”

  Madame Forestier halted her husband’s words with a strategic elbow to the ribs.

  Hope sparked in me. Maybe this evening wasn’t going to be as terrible as I had imagined. “I really thought you were angry with me,” I said. “I worried I had somehow misunderstood…I felt terrible after talking to him.”

  “Don’t feel terrible on account of us,” Monsieur Forestier said.

  Just then someone tapped me on the shoulder. I whipped around to look into the face of Monsieur Beaupre. He gave me the bises but with none of his trademark congeniality. My memory leapt back to him miming how to use the escargot tongs at la Maison des Hautes-Côtes. He looked like a completely different man now without his trademark smile. Part of me longed for how simple things had been back at the beginning of the year. I didn’t have to make anybody angry. I didn’t have to make any difficult choices.

  “Please follow me, Laura,” he said, his tone grave.

  I did, casting back a helpless look to the Forestiers. Monsieur Forestier gave me thumbs up and a wink that heartened me a smidgeon. Maybe the rest of them weren’t angry, just worried like Monsieur Beaupre…

  Monsieur Beaupre led me into a little room off the main dining room and shut the door behind him. Waiting for me in there were my two other host fathers.

  My eyes moved from one to the other. “Bonjour,” I said. My voice shook. I had no practice with that flinty insouciance that Stéph sometimes showed to her parents, and even to her brother.

  Besides, I couldn’t just blow off these men. They had done a lot for me, especially Monsieur Beaupre.

  Monsieur Lacanche came over and gave me a mechanical bises, but with no warmth. Instead, the air around him vibrated with barely constrained rage. There were bises and there were bises, I realized. The usual bises was all about acceptance, but there was another kind—the kind Monsieur Lacanche had just given me—that was a frigid reproach.

  Monsieur Girard came and kissed me too. He didn’t radiate fury, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes either.

  My brain frantically searched for a diplomatic way out of the situation. There had to be a way to be with Franck and to not have these men hate me for it. How could I make them understand the emotional importance of what was developing between Franck and me without sounding like a maudlin teenager?

  “We are extremely angry with you, Laura,” Monsieur Lacanche began. His skin had gone even paler than usual, and his eyes were narrowed and implacable. “Do you know what we were seriously contemplating two days ago?”

  “No,” I whispered.

  “We were this close…” He took a few steps closer to me and held his fingers slightly apart just centimetres from my face. I could feel that part of him wanted to hit me. “We were this close to coming to Villers-la-Faye and taking you forcibly to put you on the next plane back to Canada.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, thanking God or the Virgin Mary or whoever was responsible for this horrendous event not coming to pass. “I didn’t mean to worry you. The Forestiers knew where I was. It was actually Monsieur Forestier’s idea. My parents know where I am and they approve. I thought it was—”

  “Have you forgotten about the “No Dating” rule?” Monsieur Lacanche shook his finger in my face. “You have flagrantly broken that. You have let us all down. You are a disgrace. I have never met a more ungrateful—”

  Monsieur Beaupre stood up and put a hand on Monsieur Lacanche’s arm. “I think it is almost time for the meeting to begin. Laura still has to do her speech.”

  Tears of shock pricked at my eyes, and I had to clench my hands together to keep them from shaking. Still, I was not going to give Monsieur Lacanche the satisfaction of seeing me try to back out of the speech, even though I had no idea how to go back out there in front of one hundred Ursus members and act like I wasn’t devastated. I sensed that deep down he wanted to see me break.

  “You must still do the speech,” Monsieur Beaupre touched my arm.

  “Of course I am going to do the speech. Is the slide projector set up?” I asked, amazed that my voice sounded relatively solid.

  “Yes,” said Monsieur Girard said. He had said nothing, but his gentle soul was clearly distressed by the whole scene.

  “We will continue this discussion after the meeting,” said Monsieur Lacanche. He stalked out of the room.

  I just nodded, then went to the head table and talked mechanically to the people around me. At first, I felt like I had betrayed all of them, but it became clear that most were not aware of my recent fall from grace.

  The multi-course meal was as delicious as usual and accompanied by perfectly matched wines, but to me it all tasted like dust. I still had to get through my speech, and then the recriminations afterwards. Would they still try to rip me away from Franck? If so, what would I do?

  I found myself wondering, not for the first time, if they would have reacted differently if I had started dating one of the Ursus members’ sons instead of Franck. Franck’s family and friends in Villers-la-Faye were so far removed from the social world of the Beaune Ursus Club that they might as well have lived on a different planet. Franck was neither a known nor an approved entity, and I was sure this made my situation more unpalatable for my host families. As far as my own parents were concerned, they believed and trusted me when I told them that Franck was great. They couldn’t know about the complex social dynamics that played a big part of life in this little corner of Burgundy.

  Finally, Monsieur Lacanche got up and, adopting a jovial attitude that was in complete contrast to that which he had shown in the anteroom, he introduced me to the crowd and explained that I was going to share a slideshow about my year in France.

  I stood up. My mouth was dry. Monsieur Lacanche handed me the slide clicker with a public smile, followed by a private glare. The lights were dimmed.

  I began explaining the first few slides—my arrival in Nuits-Saint-Georges to live with the Beaupres, and my thanks to the men who had taught me to winetaste during that first Ursus meeting—an essential skill, I said, that got me through the year. Appreciative laughter rippled through the crowd.

  There was the trip to Paris with the Beaupres, skiing in the Alps with the Lacanches… guilt made it hard to speak. They had done so much for me. I owed them all, but did I owe them so much that it was worth throwing away what was possibly the greatest love of my life?

  I couldn’t know where Franck and I would end up. Neither of us had a crystal ball. We were full of determination, but we were up against some formidable foes—Franck’s family, immigration laws, lack of money, and my parents, to name a few. Still, if I didn’t live this love affair out until the very last second I would always wonder, How would it have ended, if I had been bolder?

  I had been the model Ursus student for the majority of the year. Hadn’t I given enough of myself? As I went through the slides, I tried to locate that line between doing what my soul needed, and being what other people wanted me to be.

  I got to the final slides and finished off with a sincere word of thanks. I felt an enormous wash of gratitude to the Ursus Club and all the new marvels they had introduced to me that year. They had completely changed my life. They had completely changed me.

  The round of applause I received at the end was warm. I had done it. My eyes met Monsieur Lacanche’s steely gaze. It wasn’t over. At least, not as far as he was concerned.

  The people slowly drained out of the room, most of them coming over to me for a last bises and a good-bye. We promised to stay in touch, and I promised to be back in Burgundy to visit them. I had no idea when or how that was actually going to happen, but it was easier that way. I saw Madame Beaupre on the opposite side of the room. I tried to make my way over to her, but by the time I was halfway there, she had di
sappeared. She had left without saying good-bye. That hurt more than any of Monsieur Lacanche’s words. I didn’t just like Madame Beaupre, I loved her. The fact that she left meant that as far as she was concerned, my choice to stay with Franck was a betrayal.

  Finally, the Forestiers came over to say good-bye.

  Monsieur Forestier leaned down and whispered in my ear “It’s your life. Live it. Don’t let them bully you into thinking that it is theirs. You have given us enough.”

  He gave my shoulder a squeeze. Tears filled my eyes. I wanted him to stay, but that wasn’t Monsieur Forestier’s style. He was an odd, non-conforming member of the Ursus Club, who seemed to despise most of his fellow members. He was in a rush to leave, as usual. Besides, I got the feeling that he was the type of person who left others to fight their own battles, for better or for worse. Still, a part of me couldn’t help but feel that he was leaving me to the lions.

  Lastly, it was just me and my three remaining host fathers left in the room.

  I took a deep breath. “As I said before,” I said, “I apologize for my actions and I have apologized to the Forestiers. However, I will be leaving in two weeks and I plan to spend them in Villers-la-Faye.”

  “But you are our responsibility!” Monsieur Beaupre protested. I knew he was thinking of how horrified he would be if Sophie moved in with some American man she had just met. I searched again for the words to reassure him. Franck wasn’t like other men. What we had together was truly unique. Yet, before I said them out loud, I realized how cliché they would sound to Monsieur Beaupre’s ears. Unconvincing. Immature. Like the words of an eighteen-year-old girl caught up in her first love affair.

  “I know that. I know how worrisome this must be for you and I’m sorry for any trouble my move caused. However, my parents know where I am, and they approve.”

  Monsieur Lacanche’s mouth twisted. He didn’t like being thwarted. “I cannot believe the gall of you!” he exclaimed. “Did you even bother to look around the room tonight? Did you see all the people who have worked so hard to host you over this past year? How does it feel to throw it all back in their faces?”