Gift of the Black Virgin (8 page)

Luc ran into the bedroom and saw Joanna, in a
state of shock, blood dripping from her arm, practically hysterical
as she saw her little black and white terrier pinned upside down by
the much larger spaniel. Luc grabbed Otis by the collar, dragged
him off and pitched him outside. Then he attended to his fiancé and
her dog. Sammy seemed to be more frightened than hurt, but Joanna’s
wound needed disinfecting and a bandage.

When everyone calmed down, Daniel and Joanna
were formally introduced over glasses of Ribena and a plate of
cookies—thoughtfully provided by Anna. Daniel was a perfect
gentleman. The excitement had put some color into his cheeks and
gave everyone common ground.

“Does it hurt?” Daniel asked Joanna in
French, pointing to her arm.

“Yes. But Sammy has scratched me before. I
know he didn’t mean to,” she replied in halting French, mangling
the phrase
didn’t mean to
. Luc saw her blush a little as she
struggled with her grammar.

“Will Otis and Sammy have another fight?”
Daniel wanted to know. He wouldn’t take his eyes off Joanna, hadn’t
since the moment her first saw her. Luc was amused, watching his
son behave much like he himself had when he’d first met her in
Souillac.

“Probably,” said Luc. “But we have to give
them some time to get to know each other. Then they’ll become
friends.”

“Does Sammy understand only English?”

“That’s right,” said Joanna.

“Will you speak English to me?” Daniel asked
Joanna in English. It was the kind of
non sequitur
that
makes some children so charming, Luc thought. “Your French is quite
bad.”

“Daniel!” both parents said at once, but
Joanna just laughed.

She answered in English. “If that is what you
would prefer, then yes, Daniel. I will speak to you in English.
Your English is very good, and you are right, my French is
poor.”

“Daniel goes to an English immersion school,”
Anna said in English. “We’ve also taught him a little German and
Italian. We want to prepare him for international study, if that’s
what he’d like to do, one day.”

Joanna seemed relieved to have the
conversation revert to her native tongue. “I wish I had been able
to study at a French immersion school, Daniel,” she said. “Then I
wouldn’t be having trouble talking to you right now.”

“I can help you learn French,” Daniel said,
puffing up his skinny little chest. “And Sammy, too.”

Everyone laughed and two bright pinks spots
appeared high on Daniel’s cheeks. Luc felt the tension leave his
body as he realized that Daniel was going to be just fine.

Joanna, too.

The rest of the visit went smoothly, and
before Daniel and Anna left, Joanna went into the bedroom and came
back with a late birthday gift for Daniel. It was a kite in the
form of an eagle. Luc said he would show him how to fly it, when
the weather was right, and the boy seemed pleased with both the
kite and the promise.

Anna had to snap a leash onto Otis to get him
home. And as Luc waved them goodbye he hoped the stupid dogs would
sort out who was Alpha and who wasn’t, and get on with it.

Once they were alone he turned to Joanna and
hugged her, careful of her injured arm.

“That went well, don’t you think?”

She nodded into his chest.

“He’s a pretty sweet kid. And I think he’s a
little smitten with you. Like father, like son,” Luc said,
chuckling.

“He
is
very sweet, Luc. And he looks
so much like you. I think I love him already.”

“I hope I’m not going to be jealous,” he
said, feigning a pout. Then he laughed.

Everything was going to be just fine. He
kissed Joanna with the side of his mouth that didn’t hurt and let
himself be led back to bed.

Chapter Six

The sustained efforts of a team of
professional house cleaners and three coats of white paint did take
care of the smell, most of the time. But there was still something
not quite right about their rental house, Jo knew. It wasn’t just
that it was old. She and Sammy were both aware of
something
odd about it.

Luc had done his best to make it theirs, she
had to give him credit. He’d replaced the old fridge with a shiny
steel German model, and serviced the propane stove so that she
could light it without fear of blowing herself up. Then he’d
replaced the broken electrical heaters—the only dependable source
of warmth in the draughty old place—and installed a few extras.
They bought a new bed for themselves, and two vintage wardrobes for
their clothes. And they set up a bedroom for Daniel, who would use
it on the weekends.

Luc’s furniture wasn’t great, Jo thought, but
it was functional. And with his big tv and sound system, the
downstairs rooms were transformed into something approximating
comfort.

As soon as they were officially moved in, Luc
invited a few people over for an impromptu housewarming. The real
reason for the casual party was to introduce Jo to his friends. Of
course Anna and Daniel came too, bringing Jo a housewarming gift.
When Jo saw a grinning Daniel wheeling the second-hand bicycle up
to her door, she had to fight back the tears. The wire carry basket
attached to the front was filled with yellow and white
chrysanthemums.

“Oh Daniel! How wonderful of you to think of
me! It’s perfect. Now I can go to the market every day, just like a
real Frenchwoman.” She embraced the reddening boy and hugged him,
placing a kiss on the top of his head. “Thank you. Thank you,
Anna,” she said, shyly looking at her. “It’s exactly what I
need.”

Jo had never been the kind of little girl who
planned her own wedding. She’d never bought bridal magazines, oohed
and aahed over white lace dresses, nor had she ever enjoyed being a
bridesmaid. As far as she was concerned, the smaller and simpler
the wedding, the better.

By early December, most of her wedding
arrangements had already been made for her. With the help of Evie,
Luc hired caterers, ordered the wine, and someone to perform the
ceremony. He looked after the legalities of the union, and arranged
all the accommodation for his guests. Jo chose the floral
arrangements, most of the menu items and the cake—lemon mousse
decorated with fresh flowers.

She hadn’t really done much else, except to
buy the perfect dress while she and Luc were in Paris. The
sleeveless bodice was made up entirely of off-white interwoven
ribbons, and the mid-calf skirt hugged her curves as if it had been
custom made. She loved it, and knew she would wear it again and
again.

Together they shopped for rings, agreeing on
two plain gold bands. Jo couldn’t help remembering the rings James
had bought her last year. Her Christmas gift, a big aquamarine and
diamond cocktail ring, was far too flashy for her taste, and she’d
wanted to give it back to him when they broke up. He refused it,
and now it sat in the dark in a safety deposit box. Then there was
the diamond engagement ring he’d tried to give her last spring. It
had been equally too much, and Jo couldn’t accept it. Not only was
the ring symbolic of James’ over-the-top approach to everything, at
the time he proposed she wasn’t ready to marry and have
children.

But now it was clear to her why she wasn’t
ready to settle down. Quite simply, James was the wrong man.

What a difference a few months make.

And the right man.

In the weeks leading up to the wedding, life
in the LaPlante home fell into a routine. Luc went into the office
five days a week, and while he was gone Jo poured through real
estate listings, tried to cook a little, and explored her
neighborhood. Slowly she got used to the spooky new place, and as
long as Luc was with her she could forget about her surroundings.
But when he wasn’t home, she had trouble relaxing. She hated being
alone in the big house, with its various creaks and
groans—inaudible when Luc was there.

So she took to going out almost every
weekday. When the weather was good, Luc rode his motorcycle to
work. Then Jo and Sammy took the SUV and roamed the countryside
looking at real estate. She’d collected information on everything
on offer within a twenty-five mile radius of Cahors, and she wanted
to see them all. Although they had plenty of time to shop for a new
home, she wanted to make an informed decision, she explained to
Luc, who was too busy to help. He said he had no problem turning
the entire enterprise over to her.

When the weather grew stormy, Jo didn’t want
Luc riding on slippery, wet roads so she either stayed home or
walked the countryside near their house. She’d been meaning to buy
a car for herself, but didn’t feel comfortable dealing with
salesmen. She was in no hurry, she told Luc. He could help her shop
when things slacked off a little at work.

With Luc was gone during the day, she was
often lonely. But then she met the Andersons.

The closest place to buy supplies was a large
rural supermarket a few miles down the road. Jo could cycle there
and back, with Sammy riding in the basket, in just under half an
hour. Although Luc was still doing most of the cooking, she
occasionally bought prepared foods, or tried her hand at a few
simple dishes. Most nights, she made an appetizer to eat with the
glass of wine she and Luc shared when he got home from work.

One day she noticed there were no
charcuterie
meats in the fridge. They were also low on
cheese and completely out of olives. So she pedaled to the store,
intending to choose a selection of delicacies, enough to last the
rest of the week. But when she walked up to the deli counters—there
were several—the selection overwhelmed her. She couldn’t recall
which
pâté
was Luc’s favorite. She couldn’t even remember
which one she liked the best, either. Duck, chicken, goose liver
with or without pork? Veal? Flavored or plain? Aspic on top, or
not?

And to make matters worse, the name of each
variety was hand-written in some kind of calligraphy, all swirls
and embellishment. She could barely make out the letters, let alone
form them into words.

So she decided to move over to the terrines.
The choice there was equally overwhelming. Did she want terrine
made of pork, veal, beef, chicken, rabbit, duck, or turkey? Or a
combination of two or more meats? Some were flavored with port. Or
cognac. Or green peppercorns. Others had bits of black truffles
inside. Or chunks of Roquefort. Did she want one embedded with
whole hard boiled eggs?

The selection of salamis, smoked or cured
meats and farmer’s-style sausages was her undoing. She didn’t know
there could be so many choices, and she was too confused to try to
explain her dilemma. The poor man behind the counter was terribly
patient with her, but she just couldn’t make up her mind, and her
French always deteriorated when she was nervous.

“Please, take another customer,” she tried to
say to the clerk. “I need more time.” Judging from the look on his
face, she must have said something else, she figured. She hoped it
wasn’t rude. Or vulgar.

Then she heard a woman’s voice, in English
with a French accent. “Excuse me? Do you need some help?”

Jo turned to see a short woman, about her
age, with the same dark coloring and sharp features as Anna. But
this woman was less sophisticated. Her long hair was gathered into
a messy twist and she was wearing jeans and a hoodie. Then Jo
noticed that she wasn’t short so much as having trouble standing up
straight.

“I do. Thanks. I can’t for the life of me
decode some of these signs, and that’s not helping me decide what
to buy.”

“I can help you decode, as you say. My name
is Rose. Are you American?”

“Yes. Is it so obvious?” Jo laughed, and
said, “I’m Joanna. Newly transplanted from Seattle,
Washington.”

And so started a friendship. Rose, born in
Toulouse, was married to Robert, an American scientist who had
given up his research job in Chicago to try market gardening. They
had met in the States while Rose was at university. They got
married, then moved to France and bought a farm not far from Jo and
Luc. Jo realized she had cycled past their property several
times.

With Rose’s help, Jo spent about a hundred
Euros on a selection of cheeses and top quality specialty meats.
When they were finished shopping, they exchanged phone numbers, and
Rose invited Jo over for coffee the following week.

She met Rose’s American husband, Robert
Anderson, a tall ginger-haired man, and the two boys, Robert Jr.
and Max. It turned out that Max was a member of Daniel’s soccer
team, and this happy coincidence formed an instant connection
between the two families.

Jo liked both Robert and Rose. Rose, she soon
learned, had been crippled from polio as a girl. She could still
get around, but one leg was withered, causing her to lean to one
side. Her disability didn’t slow her down, Jo was impressed to see.
When she wasn’t working in their fields of vegetables, Rose was
preserving fruit from their orchard, making pickles and jams,
chasing after the chickens, and caring for her three men. She
seemed a happy woman, and Jo soon had her pegged as a role
model.

Jo began to buy eggs and vegetables from
their farm, and even learned a few tips on cooking simple
meals.

She was adapting.

* * * *

His wedding was less than two weeks away and
Luc still hadn’t decided where to take Joanna for their honeymoon.
She said she would leave it up to him, but he was up to his eyes in
an important project at work, and couldn’t carve away more than a
few days.

No worries. We don’t have to make a big deal
out of it. We’ll plan a couple of weeks in the spring. Maybe the
Alps. Or Bordeaux.

He was happy to see Joanna was settling in so
well. Daniel was still smitten, he’d noticed, and the house was
shaping up nicely. Their only problem seemed to be the damned
dogs.