I Promise You This (Love in Provence Book 3) (29 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

After their visit with Simone, Katherine and Molly returned to the apartment to carefully get dressed.
Le mariage à la mairie
was to be performed by the mayor, Monsieur LeBrun, at two that afternoon.

“You know what feels great, Katski? Not having to rush around to a hairdresser, makeup person, and all that stuff you probably did the first time you got married. It’s nice to feel just fine about the way we look. I’ve even gotten used to my short hair.”

Kat agreed. “Does it go along with our age, Moll? We’re not so hung up on all that anymore. Or maybe it’s because it’s just us and not a huge crowd.”

As she looked at her friend now, Kat thought back to when Molly was in the hospital and life was in a state of flux. Molly’s recovery had set many wheels in motion. After Philippe and Kat had completed the paperwork at the French consulate, the seed for today had been sown.

Once he’d cajoled her into getting married, Philippe had said to Kat, “We can do whatever you like. A big blow-out affair. A church wedding. A quiet appearance at the Hôtel de Ville.
Qu’est-ce que tu veux?
What’s your pleasure?”

The only condition to Kat’s hesitation had been that there was a six-month period during which they needed to marry or certain documents would have to be submitted to the government again. They agreed the wedding would happen before that.

Katherine chose a quiet civil ceremony at the Hôtel de Ville in Antibes with only four witnesses. It held a special appeal to her. She had watched many couples joyfully celebrate on that doorstep, right at the edge of the daily market.

She liked the casual air, with dress ranging from fancy to jeans, and the way everyone stood about afterward sipping champagne or wine and mingling. People passing by stopped to applaud or offer greetings. It seemed like the authentic French way to wed. Philippe was delighted with her choice.

The fact that the banns of marriage were published at the
mairie
a full ten days before the service had concerned Kat. She might not be able to keep her secret
. Who knows how many people saw them?

So far, no one had mentioned it to her. Philippe assured her that no one had mentioned it to him either. Katherine couldn’t believe that none of Philippe’s customers had noticed. “Maybe it’s just the French way. No one is saying anything since they weren’t invited.”

Philippe had simply shrugged, and Kat could see it wasn’t an issue for him.

Now she turned her body this way and that in front of the mirror, hoping she looked as good as she felt. She had kept her dress a secret too. It was the palest of deep blues, almost touching on white, like some of the graceful flax blooms that had reseeded in random patches of the garden on the Cap. That plant was among her favorites. She had included a few fragile stems in the bouquet they picked.

With delicate shoulder straps, the linen sheath complemented Kat’s figure. She had been carefully counting calories, knowing this day was coming at some point.

They had not settled on a date until recently. It hadn’t mattered. What mattered was only that it was to be. Now it was here.

On such a promising day.

Katherine picked up her shawl. A delicate blend of silk and cashmere, it was a darker shade of the same family of blue as her dress. She and Molly had found it at the busy Friday market, across the Italian border, in Ventimiglia a month earlier.

In her usual manner, Molly had gathered a crowd that day and caused great hilarity as she haggled with the vendor. It was common knowledge that bargaining was part of the show at this popular market, as opposed to the markets in France, where that behavior was considered poor manners.

Kat, usually rendered speechless and blending in with the crowd, had never seen anyone have as much success as Molly. To top it off, along with giving her well-discounted prices, the vendors always ended up kissing Molly’s cheeks passionately and declaring her
la più dolce bella donna
. Often the crowd applauded as Molly collected her purchase, and that was one of the few times when Katherine saw her friend slightly embarrassed.
But not enough to stop doing it
, Katherine chuckled to herself.

When she purchased it, Katherine didn’t know that the wrap would go perfectly with the dress in which she was getting married. However, when she’d taken the dress out of her closet a few days ago, Molly had instantly retrieved the shawl.

“Bingo,
ma belle
! Look how well these go together!” Finished with a pair of pale-blue strappy stilettos, the outfit was complete. Molly had giggled as Kat asked, “Could you imagine me wearing these shoes a year ago?”

Now Molly sat on the bed and watched as Kat finished getting ready by touching up her makeup and running a brush through her hair. Molly mumbled about her envy at Katherine having the kind of hair that looked great, no matter what.

“I’m still waiting for my hair to grow long enough again to do something with it. Now all I can do is put some product in it and hope I don’t look like I just survived a serious windstorm,” Molly complained. No matter how sincerely Kat told her she envied Molly’s curls, Molly was never happy with them.

“You look beautiful,” Kat assured Molly. “That outfit looks like it was designed for you!” Her floor-length navy dress was complemented by a navy and white fitted jacket.

Ever since her physio had finished, Molly had been working not to walk with a limp. Kat reminded her now, “You’re doing very well. Honestly, there’s no sign of a limp. It’s wonderful to see what a complete recovery you’ve had. Claire would be proud of you!”

The two friends hugged with great emotion.

“Molly, just imagine! A year ago today, I was still trying to adjust to my life as a single woman with, hmm, shall we say . . . equal amounts of excitement and trepidation about my upcoming home exchange in Provence.”

Molly nodded, with a thoughtful expression. “I remember that well!”

Then she sang, “What a difference a year makes . . .” to the tune of the Dinah Washington hit “What a Difference a Day Makes.” “It boggles my mind how the past year has brought so much change into both our lives. Who could ever have imagined any of it!”

“Well, the good news is that everything—the good and the bad—has turned out in the best possible way for both of us.”

Molly stood up, and the two friends shared another hug, followed by a solid high five.

“Let’s go and get you married, girlfriend.”

Katherine and Molly walked out to the salon, where Philippe and Tony sat waiting for them. A bottle of champagne chilled in an ice bucket.

One of the many changes in Katherine’s life was the regular occurrence of champagne. She’d grown up considering this bubbly elixir to be a rare treat for seemingly special occasions. What she had come to realize in France was that many simple events were considered special occasions.

Even more so when a day truly was celebratory. So it was no surprise that a cork would be popped and they would all toast this special day, before and after the ceremony for starters.

Molly was to be Katherine’s witness at the
mairie
, along with Philippe’s daughter, Adorée.

Flying in the day before, Adorée was thrilled to be involved. After a quick visit with Kat at the apartment and Philippe at the market, she went to visit some friends. She was flying back to London right after the weekend and said she wanted to make the most of her time in Antibes. She planned to stay over with her friends and would meet them at the
mairie
at the appointed time, she assured them.

Gilles would stand up for Philippe and would meet them at the
mairie
as well. Philippe had asked Tony to also be a
témoin
, or witness, as they had become very close over the previous month.

They raised their glasses now and toasted to love, to friendship, and to the fulfillment of dreams. For all of Kat’s sensitivity and ease of bursting into tears, at that moment she felt happy and content. Her life had been reinvented just weeks short of a year. She felt blessed.

Turning the empty bottle upside down in the ice bucket, they prepared to leave. Molly retrieved the bouquet from the refrigerator. She had artistically arranged the blossoms and added flowing greens that Tony had picked up at the market. Thick satin ribbon wrapped around the stems to create a professionally finished look. Katherine was thrilled. “Another of your many talents! It couldn’t be more beautiful.”

The four celebrants strolled the ten minutes to the Hôtel de Ville. Philippe had chosen 2:00 p.m. as the time so the market would be finished and the area all cleaned up.

Everyone in the
vieille ville
knew Philippe and greeted their little group as they passed by, most unsuspecting of their ultimate destination. However, there were a few happy
“Félicitations,”
accompanied by warm smiles.

As they walked, the bells of the
mairie
tolled their joyful songs, announcing another married couple in the village. Katherine felt a tingle of excitement that those bells would soon toll the same news for her and Philippe. He squeezed her hand and smiled at her, knowing what she was thinking.

Adorée and Gilles, their eyes bright with anticipation, stood chatting near the aged wooden doors of the two-hundred-year-old building. The midafternoon sun washed over the faded finish, casting a soft glow on the pale peachy-pink walls and blue-shuttered windows. Monsieur LeBrun was inside the
salle de mariage
with his assistant, who was adjusting a stack of papers. It had been another busy day of weddings in Antibes.

The mayor’s smile beamed as brightly as the shiny medal on the fancy chain of office worn around his neck along with the simple red, white, and blue sash across his chest. He welcomed Kat and Philippe to this special moment in their lives and then set about his task with an air of solemnity.

Katherine handed her bouquet to Adorée. Then she and Philippe held hands as they repeated vows and exchanged simple gold bands.

Normally, vows were not part of the civil ceremony, but Monsieur LeBrun had made an exception for them.

Holding each other’s hands, Katherine spoke first, just above a whisper: “Philippe, you have filled my heart, my life, with a true love sweeter than I ever imagined. I will walk hand in hand with you wherever our journey takes us and bring that same sweet love to you in every way. With all my heart and soul, I promise you this.”

Philippe’s eyes closed briefly with emotion before he spoke. “Kat, you are my everything. Your love has brought me back to life. All that I am, all that I have, all that I will ever be, is yours forever. With all my heart and soul, I promise you this.”

The ceremony had to stay within their allotted twenty minutes. Katherine thought it a little odd saying
“Oui”
in the ceremony and not “I do.”
But that’s the French way.

After the mayor pronounced them married, they held each other in a tender embrace, sealed with a kiss.

The newlyweds’ eyes shone brightly with emotion, but neither actually shed tears. Their happiness lifted them to a state of pure joy.

Congratulating them, Monsieur LeBrun handed them their blue velvet-covered
livret de famille
, which recorded the marriage details. They joked that they didn’t think the family-record part for future children would be necessary.

After signing more papers that were then witnessed by the attendants, they shook Monsieur LeBrun’s hand and thanked him sincerely. He appeared somewhat overcome with emotion, saying how he’d known Philippe since childhood and had been a good friend of his parents. “I know the happiness they would feel today, Philippe. My heart is as full as theirs would be.”

With a warm smile, Adorée returned the bouquet to Katherine. Her voice caught with elation as she said, “Now we are a family.”

The three women shared an emotional hug. Tony and Philippe shook hands, paused, and then warmly
bised
. Philippe told him he was now officially French. Gilles and Philippe
bised
along with their handshake. Gilles wiped his eyes and blew his nose. Then they all exchanged
bises
with each other one more time, laughing as they did.

They all walked out together as the bells pealed. Katherine felt she would burst with joy at the sound. She and Philippe stopped on the step for a moment and gazed at each other, lost in happiness.

In planning Kat’s quiet day, Philippe said they would go across the street to one of the bistros they frequented and perhaps have some more champagne and a small bite to eat.

He told Kat that he had a special dinner arranged for them later in the day, but he was keeping that a surprise. He’d been so supportive in letting Katherine arrange the few details of her wedding as she wanted, she was happy to hear he’d planned something special for them too.

Standing in the bright sunshine after the dim lighting inside the
mairie
, it took Kat’s eyes a minute to adjust. When they did, she blinked several times. She couldn’t believe what was before her.

On the street, directly in front of them, stood a beaming Bernadette on precarious sparkly stilettos, next to a highly polished vintage Rolls Royce. On its hood was a magnificent and intensely fragrant floral arrangement that included lilies, roses, lisianthus, gardenia, stock, jasmine, and agapanthus, secured with flowing pale-blue and white satin ribbons.

Katherine became aware of cheering and clapping and looked beyond the Rolls. She recognized many of the local townspeople, and it slowly dawned on her who else she was seeing.

Nick stood with Simone holding on to his arm, and beside them she saw Tim and Twig. Next to them were many of the women from her expat group in Nice with their partners. Then she spotted more familiar faces: Annette and Thibaud, Véronique and David, the cycling club members, some of the staff from the bakeries, restaurants, and shops they frequented who were more like family, Beau
le boucher
, Anouk her yogi, Ida her French teacher . . . and, to her even greater pleasure, Joy and Oncle François, along with the rest of the family and Mirella and her husband.