Tales From a Broad (11 page)

I drew in a deep breath, and as the clean
country air filled my lungs, I knew I’d made the perfect choice for
the day. Simon’s sleeve brushed against my arm as we stood together
in a moment of blissful silence. I turned my head to look up at
him, and he smiled back at me.

Suddenly, feeling a bit anxious, I grabbed
the wooden bucket and immediately headed off to pick grapes. My
legs were wobbling oddly beneath me.

“Lucy, wait up!” Simon called.

I turned around and watched him walk towards
me.

“That’s it? You’re done with me?” he
said.

“Of course I’m not done with you. I mean,
well, you know what I mean,” I mumbled.

The look on Simon’s face told me he had no
idea what I was trying to say. How could he? I hadn’t a clue
myself. I was so out of practice talking to men.

“I just wanted to get a head start. There are
a lot of grapes out there that need to be picked. I also wanted to
get a good spot. As a matter of fact, this looks like a good one.”
I took a break from my babbling to pluck a few grapes from the
tree. Simon was staring at me, and I grew warm under his gaze.
Breathe
. In through the nose, out through the mouth...

“Well, is there room for one more over here?
I’d hate to crowd you out.” Simon said, tilting his head to the
side.

I looked around to see that we were the only
two people in that row. “Ha, ha,” I said and tossed a grape at
him.

Simon got to work, and we immediately fell
into a good rhythm. I discovered more about Simon and also learned
that working on a farm in Bordeaux is not all red wine and olives.
It started off as therapeutic. However, as the hours passed, the
sun grew hotter and the dust grew dustier. A layer of grime formed
on my face, and I paused on top of the ladder.

“By any chance, do I look as dirty as I
feel?” I asked Simon. “I feel like I see something dark on my
nose.” I closed one eye and used the other to look at the side of
my nose.

“Dirty, no. Silly, yes.” Simon smiled and
leaned over his ladder to wipe my nose with a paisley
handkerchief.

“Thank you,” I laughed. “You know, I’m really
impressed you carry a handkerchief.”

“It comes in handy with the ladies.” He
winked.

“Yes, you never know when you might encounter
a dusty gal in a vineyard.” I rubbed my hands together to remove
some of the dirt stuck to my palms.

Simon watched me with a half-smile.

“What?” I said, feeling paranoid.

“Nothing.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m
having a nice time with you.”

“Me too.” My heartbeat quickened as I reached
for a cluster of grapes. “Who knew picking grapes could be so much
fun? My ex would never have done this.”

“Why not?” Simon popped a grape into his
mouth.

“Oh, a number of reasons. Manual labor,
dirt...finger cramps.”

I paused to stretch out my hands. After a few
hours of picking those slippery suckers, my hands were starting to
feel rather tight.

“A little manual labor is good for the soul,”
Simon said.

The whistle blew for lunch. “As is a picnic.
I’m famished.” I started to step down the ladder, but whether it
was because of Simon’s presence or because I was so tired, I missed
a step going down.

“Shit!” I cried. I fell to the ground and
knocked over my bucket in the process.

“Lucy, are you okay?” Simon rushed over to
help me.

“Talk about grapes of wrath,” I grimaced. I
slid the bucket out of the way.

“Don’t worry about the damn grapes.” He
looked worried. “Let’s get you up.”

He bent down to help me, but as I stood, I
realized I couldn’t bear any weight on my ankle. “Oh my Lord,” I
groaned. “I feel like such an ass.”

“Put your arm around my waist,” Simon
directed. As I grabbed on for support, I could feel the firm
muscles under his shirt, and all I could think about was that his
hand was wrapped around my muffin top. I sucked in my stomach with
such a vengeance that I was pretty much gasping for air as we
hobbled over to the picnic area.

“Hang in. We’re almost there,” Simon said,
apparently mistaking my gasping for pain.

When we got to our destination, an attractive
blonde woman with a bag of ice ran over to us, her long floral
skirt bellowing behind her as she ran.

“I saw you coming and made you a pack.
Please, sit down.” She ushered me over to a white Adirondack
chair.

“I’m Charlize. My husband and I own the
vineyard. I’m so sorry about this. Our daughters ran up to the
house for some pain reliever and wrapping. There they are now.” Her
face broke into a smile, and I followed her gaze to see three
little Asian girls running towards us.

“They’re adorable,” I smiled.

“Are they triplets?” Simon asked.

“Thank you,” Charlize smiled at me again.
“And yes, they are,” she answered Simon. “We fostered them back in
San Francisco, and they officially became our daughters one year
ago yesterday. We moved to Paris and bought the vineyard shortly
after. I guess you can say it’s been a wonderful year for us.”

“It also happens to be their fourth birthday
tomorrow,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. Charlize held out
two very toned arms and opened them to greet her daughters. “Group
hug!” she cried.

The girls fell into her arms and gave their
mother a tight hug. A knot formed in my throat, and I actually had
to put on my shades.

Simon cleared his own throat. “Looks like you
girls brought enough supplies to open a hospital. Thank you.” He
took the first aid materials from their hands. The three sisters
smiled proudly.

“And here comes Daddy with the food, so we’re
all set,” Charlize said.

A husky man on a tractor pulled up, and we
watched him unload picnic baskets from the back. He called out to
the girls in French, and they ran towards him to help out.

“Do you need anything else?” Charlize
asked.

Simon held up his hand. “Thank you, but we’re
all set. I’ve been doing this for years.”

As Charlize joined her family at the tractor,
Simon turned to me with a wrap. “Ahem. It’s a good thing you’re
with an Illinois certified emergency medical technician.”

“Thank God for that,” I said. “I fall so
easily. And when I fall, I fall hard.”

“Thanks for the warning. I used to be like
that. I’m trying to take my time now. I mean, you can’t rush into
love, right?” Simon’s eyes twinkled as he waited for me to
respond.

I laughed, then turned my head and watched
the three little girls. They were happily handing out lunch bags to
the volunteers.

“Those three are adorable, eh?” Simon said as
he followed my gaze.

“Beyond,” I said with a sigh. “Charlize and
her husband are very lucky.”

“Seriously. Three sisters. It doesn’t get any
better than that. I would love to adopt when I...”

“Grow up?”

“Cute. Get settled was what I was going to
say,” Simon corrected. He pulled the wrap tightly around my ankle.
“You better take it easy or Dr. Evil is going to come out.”

“Do you really? You would adopt?”

“Sure. Why not?” Simon shrugged.

I stared at him in silence. That didn’t sound
to me like someone who had a Peter Pan complex. Maybe Simon had a
few more layers of depth than I had given him credit for.

“Why do you seem so shocked?” he said.

“Why do I seem so shocked?” I sorted through
the many thoughts whirring around in my head. “Well, for one, what
I didn’t tell you in the Facebook version of my life is that my
ex-fiancée basically said if we couldn’t have kids, for whatever
reason, there was no way he would adopt.”

“What?” Simon grimaced. “So he’s opposed to
giving a child a better life?”

I actually felt goose bumps on my arms as
Simon spoke. I wondered if there were other men out there who
shared his thinking.

“I don’t know. He wants to keep his name
going, pass down his genes...” My voice trailed off.

“Sounds like he has some set of genes,” Simon
said dryly. “Not to mention, balls.” He looked at me pointedly.

He must have seen the mixed emotions crossing
my face because he backed down and reached out to touch my shoulder
before saying, “I’m sorry, but the guy sounds like a real tool.
Especially, if he let you go.”

“Thanks.” I gave him a closed-mouth smile and
tried to ignore the heat from his fingers as they brushed my upper
arm. “It got pretty complicated.”

Simon paused to look me square in the eyes.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll find better.”

My stomach did a flip as he turned his
attention back to the wrap he was now winding around my ankle. He
secured it tightly with a piece of tape.

“You’re good to go.” He looked proud as he
assessed his handiwork. “Ready to get back out in the field?”

“I guess,” I said doubtfully. I couldn’t help
but wonder which field he was talking about.

Each time Simon came to check on me, he told
me about the antics of the other visitors out in the vineyard.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with the grace and balance of a
hippopotamus. I wasn’t sure Cooper would have been as amused as
Simon was. Coop tended to equate clumsiness with carelessness, and
he certainly wouldn’t have laughed at smudges of dirt or sweat
marks on my face. Not that he would have ever seen them there in
the first place, since I was pretty sure Cooper’s alleged allergy
to anything resembling dirt would have kept him far from these
fields.

I was having a great time, and Simon’s
obvious care for the other people here—I saw him taking water to an
older woman, and he helped the triplets carry the remains of our
lunch baskets back up to the house—made me think about what kind of
man I really wanted.

There were probably men out there who
wouldn’t make me feel like I was ancient, men who were older than
this thirty-two-year-old camp counselor. Men who shared Simon’s
belief that a family didn’t have to be biological and that caring
for others was the first priority. I’d allowed myself to feel like
damaged goods, a failure of a woman, that in the midst of my
wallowing I had failed to see something important. Something really
important: Not all men were like Cooper.

With that hope in my heart, I enjoyed the bus
ride back, said goodbye to Simon, and collapsed happily into the
bathtub at the hotel. As I relaxed in the bubbles, I hoped Tess
would be on board with my plan to watch an in-room movie. Until I
found that man, a good chick flick would have to fill my void for
romance.

* * * *

“Aunt Lu?” Tess called from behind the
bathroom door. I sat up with a start and looked down at my pruned
fingers.

“Just a sec, Tessie. What time is it? I think
I fell asleep.”

“Six o’clock. Oh my God, I have so much to
tell you!”

“Hang on, I’m coming out.” I couldn’t believe
I had been in the tub for an hour. The water had turned cold, and
the bubbles had all flattened.

I stepped out of the claw foot tub and winced
when my injured foot hit the floor. “It’s a good thing you came
home,” I shouted through the door. I dried my body with the towel.
“I could’ve—”

“You would not believe the day I had,” Tess
interrupted. “I met the cutest guy. His name is Pierre. Pierre! How
much more French can you get?”

I threw on a robe and opened the door. I came
face-to-face with Tess, who was aglow with excitement. “Well,
hello.” I smiled.

“Bonjour.
” Tess beamed back at me.
“Then, I ran into Mark who—”

“Wait.” I held up a finger. “I’m coming out.
Start at the beginning.” I ducked back into the bathroom to grab a
hairbrush.

“Okay.” She paused to take a breath. “First I
took a bus to Montmartre. You know, that cool area where you and I
had planned to go?” Her voice trailed off as she walked towards the
beds.

“I’m sorry I went without you, but I was just
dying to check it out. When I left the hotel, there was a bus that
happened to be heading...”

Tess babbled on so fast that in my post-bath
haze, I was having trouble keeping up with her. I emerged from the
bathroom and watched as she rifled through her backpack.

“Tess,” I commanded. Her head popped up to
look at me. “Slow down. I’m not going anywhere. You sound like
you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m sorry.” She turned her attention back to
her bag. “I’ve learned that there’s a big difference between
American coffee and French. I’m so caffeinated it’s like
whoa
!” she exclaimed. “A-ha! There you are.”

I watched as she extracted a wrinkled dress
from her bag. My hopes of watching a movie began to diminish.

“Oh my God! Aunt Lu, what happened to your
foot? You’re limping.”

“Oh.” I rolled my eyes and took a seat at the
desk. “It was nothing. A vineyard casualty.”

“Ugh.” She furrowed her eyebrows and frowned.
“I feel so self-centered. I ripped you out of the tub, didn’t even
ask about your day—”

“I’m fine. We’ll get to that later. You
first.” I clapped my hands. I was dying to know who or what had
gotten her this excited.

Tess drew in a breath and smiled. “Okay.
Well, I have to say, I felt really independent today. I conquered
climbing the steps of Rue Foyatier!” She threw her hands up in
victory. “You know, that crazy staircase that takes you up to Sacre
Coeur?”

“Oh yeah,” I said nostalgically. “I actually
had a poster of those steps in my college dorm room. Are there
really as many steps as there appear to be?”

“More,” she replied with a face. “Two hundred
and thirty-four! When I got to the top, I just
had
to sit
down. I was totally exhausted, but more so, blown away, by the
surrounding sights. It was like I’d climbed a staircase to heaven.
I’ve seen photographs of those steps for years. Wait till you go.
You’ll get goose bumps.”