Promises to Keep by Patricia Sands

voicemail.”
    Katherine gave her a detailed description of everything that was happening and assured her they were still coming for a visit.
    “ Merveilleux! It will be good for you both to get away from that commotion.”
    Now Kat said to Philippe, “The change of scene will do us both good, and I’m so looking forward to seeing everyone—including Pico, of course.”
    “I think the Lallibert’s dog fell in love with you just like I did,” Philippe quipped.
    A smile lit up Kat’s face. “Who knew that a soppy yellow Lab would find his way into my heart so completely?”

    Kat’s excitement mounted as soon as she recognized the countryside near Sainte-Mathilde. The drive of just over two hours always pleased her. After leaving the coast and the rugged red rocks of the Massif de l’Esterel, the countryside changed dramatically. Vineyards, orchards, olive groves, and fields stretched toward a backdrop of rolling hills. Perched villages came and went from view as the road twisted and turned. The vibrant autumn shades she recalled from their last visit for the grape harvest were muted as colder weather set in. Leaves had fallen and fields were plowed into mounded rows. The gnarled stumps of the cutback vines offered a stark beauty against the bright-blue sky and signaled the promise of the next year’s bounty. Evergreen oaks, olive trees, and cedars provided a backdrop of multihued greens.
    Kat was eager to be back in the company of the people who had made her feel so welcome in June. She had come to know them so well.
    Philippe phoned as soon as they turned off the main road, and when they arrived at the courtyard of the manoir , everyone was outside to deliver a boisterous welcome.
    Joy; her daughter, Marie, and her son-in-law, Christian; her brother- and sister-in-law, Jean-Pierre and Madeleine Lallibert; Philippe’s Oncle François; even the housekeeper/cooks Antoine and Hélène in their starched white aprons, were all there, as was, of course, Picasso, who bounded toward the car.
    “Pico, Pico!” Katherine cried, kneeling to rub her face against the excited dog and wrapping her arms around his neck. The feel of his soft golden hair gave her goose bumps. She loved the exuberant Lab and, for a moment, was overwhelmed by the bond she had forged with him months earlier. She held a thought before letting him go, although he did not leave her side: You taught me so much in a very short time, mon ami.
    “I think his tail might just wag right off,” Joy said as Kat stood to greet everyone, and they all laughed.
    “We thought you were leaving us, ma chère . We are so excited and happy for you and Philippe to be together.”
    Joy offered apologies for the absence of her son, Henri, and his wife, Sylvie, who were hiking in Corsica. “Mirella sends their regrets as she and Marc are in Paris. She wanted you to know they share our happiness and look forward to seeing you at Christmas,” she said, referring to her closest friends.
    If I’m still here , Kat thought ruefully.
    Joy led the way to the sprawling terrace behind the manoir , where champagne was served, with foie gras spread on small toasts plus a selection of olives, and lively chatter filled the air.
    Kat was embarrassed when she saw the bowls of olives. Joy grinned and touched her arm. “Philippe told me the story and that they were your new passion, so I could not resist.”
    The conversation turned serious when the topic of a local political situation came up. Philippe and Joy translated as needed and, in true Gallic fashion, the discussion ended in laughter as they made hilarious remarks about the people involved.
    “The French always seems to find the humor in their politics, no matter what. It’s a saving grace,” Joy whispered to Kat.
    Just then, Hélène appeared on the terrace to announce the meal was ready. A cool nip in the Provençal air prevented their dining al fresco, and lunch was served in the massive banquet hall at a long table close