SMITTEN (Paris Après Minuit)

by Juliet Braddock

  “You should talk to Nigel,” she said. “He’s working on expanding his family’s manor house hotel in Provence.”

  “Oh, is Nigel the new boyfriend?” Charlie mused. “What happened to Ernie, the French guy?”

  “Etienne,” she corrected him. “Oh, we still talk. I just…I’m making some changes in my life, and I don’t know that he’s on board.”

  “It’s better to find out sooner rather than later,” Charlie told her. “I hope things work out for you, Jan. You’ve always been so independent, and you always find a way to make things happen. I’m sure you’ll get through this, too.”

  Just hearing that assurance from her big brother filled January with hope. Maybe they’d drifted apart for a bit, but no one knew her like Charlie did.

  With a squeeze to his shoulder, she said, “Charlie, thank you.”

  “Aw, don’t get all emotional now.” One thing Charlie could never tolerate was the fluctuation of a woman’s moods. Tears, anger and even melancholy just left him feeling unsettled. “Jan…”

  “Oh, alright,” she acquiesced. “Maybe we can roll around in the fields later and wrestle for old time’s sake.”

  “With my back problems? Sis, we’re not kids anymore.”

  That reminder served as just another stark reality she had to face. They were all getting older, including her parents. Just as she began to wonder what other changes she might find when she arrived on their doorstep, she realized that she needed her brother to stop in town before they headed to the countryside.

  “Wait!”

  “What?” Charlie pulled over on the side of the road to calm his frantic sister. “What’s wrong, Jan?”

  “I purposely didn’t get mom and Dad anything in my travels. They always made fun of me for buying them expensive, impractical gifts,” she rambled. “But I can’t go empty-handed. We need to stop at the liquor store and the florist before we head home.”

  “That’s it?” Charlie roared. “You forgot to get hostess gifts, so you’re freaking out? That’s not exactly what I’d classify as a reason to pull off the damn road. You know, you’ll always be a drama queen…”

  Perhaps some things would never change. Folding her hands in her lap, she smiled. Charlie always knew how to handle her, too.

  “It’s sort of what I do best,” she joked. “I have made a few movies in my day.”

  “Can I tell you something?” he said as he merged back into traffic. “Something you might not want to hear?”

  She had a feeling she’d be forced to listen to a lot of things that she wasn’t in the mood to deal with, but she had to face her fears at some point. “Shoot.”

  “When someone asks me if I’m related to you, I tell them no.”

  Although he’d expected her to swat him, Charlie was truly shocked by January’s response. In fact, he was certain that his sister’s laughter was audible in the next car over.

  “You lie?” she finally managed as she wiped at the tears of hilarity that rolled down her cheeks. It was then that Charlie noticed she wasn’t sporting as much make-up as she usually wore. Her lashes weren’t streaming. “Oh, Charlie…”

  “I thought you’d be pissed. Who are you, and what did you do with my little sister?”

  “I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.”

  “I just don’t want to have people ask me to get your autograph—or for tickets to your movies. I don’t have the time to be bothered.”

  “You don’t have to explain.” However, she was still laughing. “Would you like to wait in the car with a paper bag over your head while I do my shopping?”

  “No, I think I’ll brave it with you,” he said thoughtfully. “If you can come home, then I can be seen with you.”

  “And don’t worry. I can handle my own autographs— even if it’s some young kid asking for his father.” Try as she might, January still couldn’t shake the reality of that little episode the previous evening.

  “We all get old. I never thought I’d know what forty felt like. And here we are…”

  Covering her ears, she said, “Stop reminding me. You sound like Mom!”

  “You’re not the only one who gets the speech about giving her grandchildren, you know. And believe it or not—she’s going to live whether we do or not. Our neglect to give her two more will not kill Aurora.”

  January had forgotten how Charlie often referred to their mother by her first name. “I missed you more than you realize, you know that?”

  “As you should. Now, let’s get this shopping expedition over with. We have some wine to drink. And I think we’ll both need it before the night’s over.”

  Brother and sister continued to laugh their way through small town after small town. If nothing else, she felt that she was on the road to recovery with at least one member of her immediate family. Charlie, she hoped, would be her buffer.

  Those country roads all began to look familiar as they cruised ever closer to home. Baxter Springs was one of those little towns that withstood the test of time—and it just never changed. With the iconic Route 66 passing through its roadways, the streets held history in the old buildings, and tourists often stopped along their drives.

  January and Charlie made the perfunctory cruise past the old service station, which now functioned as the Baxter Springs welcome center. It was their father’s favorite building, and she remembered rolling her eyes every time they drove by when she was a kid. Looking back now with some fond memories, she made Charlie slow down so that she could take a picture.

  They were, though, on a mission.

  “Oh, yee-haw! Cowtown Liquors, here we come!” January shouted as Charlie pulled into the first slot by the door.

  “Will you shush?” Charlie smacked her playfully. “They took a huge order of my wine!”

  “So that’s why we’re here? To support the buyers?”

  “Yes!” Charlie turned to look her in the eyes. “And this time, I will totally claim you as my sister if you sign an autograph for them.”

  “You’re lucky I don’t insist we go through the drive-through,” she said. “We ain’t got no drive-through adult beverage establishments in the big city.”

  “January…” Charlie shot her the side eye. “Stop it.”

  By the time they walked out, Cowtown Liquors had increased their initial order from Gallimore Vineyards. The owner would spend the rest of the afternoon staring at his photograph with January on his Facebook page, where he noted that she might be America’s Sweetheart, but she’s Baxter Springs’ girl next door.

  “Who’da thunk that Chardonnay was so popular in these parts?”

  “Are you making fun of my vineyard?”

  “Honey, I’m the new face of your vineyard,” she told him. “And now, all of Baxter Springs is going to know I’m back in town.”

  “Can you see Aurora’s face when all four-thousand inhabitants stampede the farm in search of her prodigal daughter?” Charlie mused. “Poor Aurora. I hope she made enough banana bread and coffee.”

  A few moments of silence lingered, but January couldn’t allow that pause to continue for long. “You’re really tired of the grind, aren’t you?”

  “Jan, I’m—” Stopping suddenly, Charlie bounced his palms off the steering wheel. “Jan, we’ll talk about it later. Over a bottle of wine.”

  “Looks like this week is going to involve a lot of drinking. I haven’t had so much wine since my two weeks in Provence with…”

  “With Nigel?” Charlie filled in.

  “We’ll talk over that bottle of wine, big brother.”

  Although Charlie was tempted to stop at the local restaurant for a bite, January reminded him that Aurora had been slaving over a hot stove all day. Charlie relented and continued the drive back to the farm.

  January, however, froze as she climbed out of the car and dug her feet into the driveway.

  Charlie took her hand and said, “Party’s over. We’ve arrived at Aurora’s for dinner…”

  Throwing
her head back, she looked up at the familiar old house. The last time she was home, the wooden slats had shed the latest coat of paint. Now, aluminum siding covered the house she knew so well. Even the gravel beneath her feet was a change from the dusty dirt road that led from the main highway.

  “You okay?” Charlie asked while she stared at the second floor and into her old bedroom window.

  “Christ, why do I feel like I’m starring in one of my own fucking movies?” she thought out loud.

  “It’s okay, Jan,” Charlie said as he rubbed her back. “I got ya.”

  “Shit, I’m glad you picked me up.”

  “You know…I am, too…”

  Step-by-step, she crunched along and wobbled her way up to the porch. She had braced herself to fall, but apparently, her brothers fixed all the problems with the exterior, including those rickety wooden stairs.

  Just as she readied herself for the next big moment in her life, January stopped. Beneath the porchlight, with her arms extended, January’s mother stood and waited for her only daughter.

  Although January had been talking to Aurora much more regularly than she had since she’d moved away, seeing her mom was something she hadn’t prepared to do.

  While she and January were the same height, Aurora always exhibited a huge presence to her daughter, intimidating but nurturing at the same time. Now, though, that larger-than-life stance had diminished.

  At sixty-eight, Aurora hadn’t lost that haughtiness, but she seemed a little frail to January. Perhaps she’d lost some weight, or she succumbed to the fact that age took its toll.

  January now saw the defined lines around Aurora’s eyes, and she took note of the full head of white hair. There was a time when mother and daughter almost looked like twins with their light brown hair and big gray eyes. January had to move past the shock. Aurora lived a long but happy life, and she was a proud woman. Her daughter had to accept that, too.

  “Oh, shit, Mom…oh, Mom…” January muttered as she stumbled into those waiting arms.

  “Will you stop with the swearing? Your father’s here, too.”

  Aurora’s scolding only made January cry harder. Dammit, she missed coming home, and she wasn’t about to hide it.

  What she hadn’t anticipated was seeing the entire family crammed in the living room that hadn’t changed since they bought new furniture when January was a teenager. All of her brothers, their wives and children were sprawled out over those two velour couches. It was almost too much for her to handle. Everyone looked older. The kids were taller than she was now. Hell, her oldest brother had a grandchild on the way. Her nephew was twenty-three already, but January just couldn’t fathom his wife’s baby bump.

  Scanning the room, she searched for that familiar face, and then she found him. Hands stuffed in his jean pockets as always, Edward Gallimore rose above everyone, as stoic as ever.

  Discipline with her father was never a physical thing, but Ed knew how to coax his children into behaving with his eyes alone. As long as his rules were followed, all was great. January accepted those rules until she reached junior high. She’d disappointed her father with her moody attitude, and she missed her first dance because she couldn’t hold her tongue. At that point, she understood that she had to show respect to her parents—and that she had to leave the farm.

  “Jan…” Ed’s stern voice called out.

  His pale blue eyes, however, told a different story than the one she’d led herself to believe. She could see both the love and the longing that linked to his heart.

  Ed, too, looked older—a little longer in the jowls with gray furry brows nearly meeting on his forehead. They’d certainly had their differences, and Ed was the last person to approve her career. However, one split-second look told her that they’d gotten past it. The bad girl had returned home for reparation.

  For that moment, there was no one in the room but her father, and January just couldn’t wait to hug him. Those huge arms weren’t as tanned or as muscular as she remembered, but when they wrapped around her, the security she found in her father’s embrace was unshakable.

  “You had a good trip?” Always practical, her father only needed to know the necessary information.

  “I did, Daddy,” she said and suddenly remembered the gifts in her hand. “Oh, and I brought you a little something. Mom, too. All local.”

  “See, Charlie, your sister knows what a man likes to drink,” Ed told his son as he examined the bottle of whiskey. It was, of course, the most expensive that Cowtown had to offer. “Not that stuff you’re bottling.”

  “Men drink wine, too, Pops,” she chimed in.

  “French men drink wine, January.”

  “And cheers to that, Dad,” Charlie mumbled in his sister’s ear. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

  Swinging her arm around her favorite sibling, she led him to the dining room where everyone somehow found a seat at the giant table her great-grandfather had carved nearly a century ago.

  Naturally, Aurora refused January’s offer to help serve dinner, and she wondered if her mother was still terrified of her lack of skills in the kitchen. Insisting got her nowhere, and her mother banished her to the dining room.

  On the other hand, the Gallimore boys—Christopher, Matthew, Charlie and Eddie, who was also affectionally known around Baxter Springs as just “Junior”—gravitated toward their sister’s lead and took their seats around her. She wasn’t sure if they were planning to gang up on her, or if their collective move was merely instinctual, motivated to protect their baby sister.

  “So, Jan,” Matt began, “we’ve got quite a few new things to show you.”

  “Crops did so well, and we increased production with that new equipment you bought,” Christopher added. “And so we decided to take the profits and invest them in the biggest holiday of the year.”

  “Halloween!” Lucas, Matthew’s fifteen-year-old son, shouted on his way to the kitchen to join the overflow of teenagers. Aurora always set two tables when everyone came to visit at once.

  “Really?” January turned to each one of her brothers. “Well, that’s fantastic news!”

  “Pumpkin season starts this weekend,” Junior informed her. “We have a lot of fun with it. Whole town turns out throughout September and October.”

  Their news made her grin. “You have no idea how proud that makes me. Can I join in?”

  “We were hoping you’d ask…”

  For once, she paid close attention to every word her brothers spoke. In fact, they would all remark that it was nice to see that she’d taken such an interest in the business.

  January also wanted to reconnect with her nieces and nephews, most of whom were now almost ready for college. The youngest of the Gallimore grandchildren, Lucie, held a particular fascination for Aunt Jan. Much to January’s surprise, Lucie asked her countless questions about New York, Paris and Xavier. Apparently, the young girl was a fan of his clothes. Aunt Jan promised that they’d Facetime him before she left Kansas. While her father winced, Charlie noted that January’s blood did run through Lucie’s veins.

  Dinner ran longer than it usually did at the Gallimore home those days. Usually, everyone was in such a hurry to get back to work or to their phones. When Ed commented that it was nice to have a real family meal for a change, everyone at the table took note.

  Ed’s nod usually indicated the end of a meal, and then he’d remove his napkin. After telling her mother to sit down, January hopped to attention and wrangled her nieces to follow her to the kitchen with the dinner plates.

  “Lucie never does dishes at home,” Junior complained to Christopher. “How did Jan get her to move so fast?”

  “She has magic powers, and she’s come for your kids…” Charlie teased.

  “She needs to have a couple of her own,” Aurora added when no one had realized that she was listening. “Might settle her down.”

  Giggles rang out in the kitchen. Such fun hadn’t been had around Aurora’s sink since they all baked C
hristmas cookies the previous year. One thing January realized that night was that children were forgiving. They didn’t care that Aunt Jan hadn’t been around for every moment of their lives, but they appreciated the time she spent with them right now. January didn’t want to fuck up with these kids again. Maybe she wouldn’t be there for every school play or prom, but she knew she could make a greater effort to include herself in their lives.

  They’d cleaned up the bubbles of dish detergent that they’d blown around the room and made sure they put everything away—from the tableware to the leftovers. When Aurora finally appeared in the doorway, she nodded in approval.

  “Selfie with Aunt Jan!” Lucie called out and pulled out her phone.

  “Wait! One with mine!”

  “One more for me, too!” January insisted and then turned her attention to her mother. “Hey, Lucie, will you get one of Grandma and me?”

  “Oh, January, I look terrible. It’s late. And I—”

  January, though, never took no for an answer and stepped up to put her arm around her mother. “On three…”

  “Say cheese, Gram!”

  Aurora didn’t let January go so quickly, though, and as she held on to her daughter’s arms, she gave them a squeeze. “Thank you for taking care of clean-up tonight. And I’m really glad you’re home.”

  “Me, too, Mom. Me, too…”

  “Okay, time to try the wine!” Charlie said as he barreled into the kitchen, disrupting the quiet moment between mother and daughter. “And time for a tour of the vineyard…”

  “Charles, it’s dark outside!” Aurora shouted as he pulled January along toward the back door. “Sometimes, I wonder how I gave birth to the two of you.”

  “Sometimes, we wonder that, too, Ma,” Charlie winked at January. “Come on, Sis. I want to show you what I’ve been up to.”

  What January loved was the fact that Charlie was so proud of his endeavors with building a winery on Gallimore Farm. He did all of this himself, without the help of his brothers, and he planned to prove his father wrong.

  “Bet your French guy never took you on one of these?” Charlie said as he climbed onto the ATV parked at the edge of the back lawn, just where the fields began. He brought with him a bottle of his wine and two glasses.