Daynara
I hand Vivienne another basket to fill with the grapes we have collected from the field.
“I can’t believe how many bushels we’ve collected,” I mutter.
Vivienne wipes her brow and grins, “I love collecting grapes for Jean Luc to make me some special vintages. But it’s getting dark, so we better hurry back to the house.”
She looks toward a silent Gerard and calls out, “Take this to the stockroom for your Père to prepare, Mon amour.”
Gerard takes the basket and quietly rushes to the wine shed.
Vivienne calls out to the children and wraps her arm around mine, “Come Chérie, we shall make my special chicken paillard for dinner.”
Nodding, I follow her to the house just as the sun sets. My white summer dress flutters around me, making me shiver from the cool breeze.
While Vivienne
