“Monsieur, please, I need a huge favor. I’d so appreciate it if you’d walk back to the inn with Alexandre along the beach. I told him I’d ask if he could walk back with you if he behaved during dinner. He ended up acting like an angel. Would you please do that for me? I’ll be coming as soon as we settle the bill.” She was afraid to turn around, to turn her eyes anywhere but on his.
He looked beyond her at the table she just left.
“You trust your son to me?” he asked softly.
“Aren’t you going back to the inn?”
He nodded.
“Then if you wouldn’t mind too much, I’d be in your debt.”
He looked thoughtful. “Very well. We’ll walk along the beach.”
“I really appreciate this. I know it’s a lot to ask, but he’s really taken to you.”
“Then perhaps I can ask a favor in return,” he said.
“Yes.”
He almost smiled. “You haven’t heard it yet.”
“Anything. I appreciate your help.”
“Early breakfast in the morning. I’d like to try another trail that’s farther away from St. Bartholomeus, so I want to get an early start.”
“That’s no problem. I’ll be home as soon as I can get there. Once you reach the inn, Rene at the front desk can watch him.”
The Rousseaus looked curiously at Jeanne-Marie when she returned to the table. Alexandre looked hopeful.
“Are we leaving?” he asked, looking beyond his mother at Matt.
“After you bid your grandparents good-night,” she said.
“Goodbye,” Alexandre said with enthusiasm, jumping from the table and giving them each a quick hug. Then he raced across the restaurant and smiled up at Matt with trusting eyes.
“I’m ready,” he said.
“So I see.” Matt took the boy’s hand in his and nodded toward Jeanne-Marie. Then the two of them left the restaurant.
“Whatever is going on?” Adrienne said, annoyance evident. “Why is Alexandre going off with him? Are you seeing that man?”
“No. I told you he’s a guest at the hotel. He agreed to walk Alexandre back home,” Jeanne-Marie said, resuming her seat. “This gives us some time to talk about Alexandre without him being around. I appreciate your wanting him to visit this summer, and I do think he’d love it. But short visits spaced over the summer, I think.”
“You don’t even know that man. How can you let Alexandre go off with him? He could kidnap him and we’d never see him again,” Adrienne said with concern.
“I have his home address and I doubt he’s planning to kidnap my son. He watched him this afternoon by the sea. He lost his own son two years ago. I think being with Alexandre reminds him of his son.”
“Alexandre might not understand the attention of a stranger. He could hope for more from a guest passing through,” Adrienne said quietly.
“He’s used to the transient nature of our guests. It won’t hurt him to spend some time with people from different areas.”
“He needs a father,” Adrienne said sadly.
“He had a father, a wonderful man,” Jeanne-Marie said softly.
“Have him come visit us soon. We love having him,” Antoine said. “And if not for the entire summer, then for as long as you can let him.”
“He’d like that,” Jeanne-Marie said. She wanted to get back to the inn. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Matthieu Sommer. She did. But she also felt she’d imposed upon him to placate her son.
She refused a lift back to the inn, saying she wanted the walk after dinner. Once she said goodbye to her inlaws, Jeanne-Marie was grateful for the few moments alone as she hurried back home. She’d have to arrange for Alexandre to visit, but right now she was more concerned with how the walk back had gone.
When she reached the inn, she was surprised to see both Matthieu Sommer and her son sitting in chairs on the veranda in the darkness—out of the light spilling from the open French doors.
“Are you solving the world’s problems?” she asked, taking one of the chairs nearby. She looked at him, then her son. She was pleased Matt had not gone directly to his room.
“Did you know Matt has horses, Mama? He rides almost every day when he’s at home.”
“I didn’t know that. How amazing.” She gave him a look of gratitude.
“Can we go visit? Then I could ride a horse,” Alexandre said.
“Oh, no, honey. We live here. Monsieur Sommer is our guest. We’re not his.”
“I’d like to ride a horse, Mama,” Alexandre persisted.
“Maybe we’ll find a horse to go riding one day when you’re older.”
Alexandre thought about it a moment, his face scrunched up. Then he brightened and gave a brilliant smile to the man next to him. “It’s later. Now can we ask Mama?”
“Ask me what?” Jeanne-Marie asked.
“Can I go climbing? He can show me how.”
Jeanne-Marie frowned. “Monsieur Sommer is here to do serious climbing, not spend time teaching you how to climb.”
Matt shrugged. “One afternoon wouldn’t hurt. If you’d allow it. There’re some very easy climbs he could probably handle. I know what a small boy can do. My son loved it.”
Jeanne-Marie looked between the man and the boy. She could see the hope dancing in Alexandre’s eyes.
“Mmm, we’ll see. Now it’s time for bed. We’ll discuss climbing another time.” She rose and held out her hand. The little boy slid off the chair and reached for her, looking earnestly at their guest.
“We can talk more tomorrow.”
“Perhaps.” Jeanne-Marie did not want her son pestering the guests. Even though Matt had been kind enough to escort her son home, she was not in the habit of imposing on people at the inn.
After Alexandre was in bed, Jeanne-Marie caught up on some household chores, then went to sit on the veranda. It was nice to relax in the darkness and wait for the last of her guests to return for the night. Sometimes she almost could imagine she was waiting for Phillipe to return from a walk.
Though tonight her thoughts were of Matthieu Sommer. She wished he wanted a last bit of fresh air and would join her on the veranda.
The evening was cool. Settling in the shadows, she gazed toward the sea, dark and mysterious this late. Reviewing her in-laws’ visit, she wished they’d spoken about Phillipe more. She missed him. Missed all the family traditions they’d just begun. Like La Victoire de 1945. Last year she and Alexandre had gone with her friend Michelle and her family. Alexandre had enjoyed the activities, but she’d felt out of place every time Michelle’s husband had swung his son up onto his shoulders so he could see better. Alexandre should have had a father to do the same thing! He was growing so big, it was hard for her to pick him up. Not that her holding him gave him that much extra height.
The last fete she’d attended with Phillipe, Alexandre had been an infant in arms. She remembered the day with a soft smile, startled to realize that the achy pain that normally came when she remembered something done with her late husband was missing. She hoped she’d reach the stage to remember their time with nostalgia and a poignant feeling of days gone by. But for the first time she didn’t feel crushed with the weight of grief. Was she at last