L

Once inside the bathtub they sat facing each other, close enough so Frédérique's thighs rested in each side of Richie's waist,  and started discussing their plans for the following week: Richie wasn't ready to leave Frédérique alone in New York, yet – he’d rather just hang out at her apartment or maybe become more involved with the project again and perhaps spend some time with his mom. Frédérique asked him when he was planning on traveling to California, then: he'd have to at some point in the following ten days if he wanted to be with his daughter before the band started their residence at the O2 Arena.  Nikki. Richie unconsciously held his breath when he remembered he had to have THAT conversation with her and also tell her that-

“The sooner she finds out, the less she'll suffer, Richie”, she told him calmly: she'd felt him tense when they spoke about California and he apparently was evading the subject. She continued to gently scrub his arm with the sponge, her eyes following the movement of her hand and then she added with the same clamness in her voice. “And it will be even less painful if she hears it from you”.

As usual, Frédérique was already a step ahead of his thoughts. Richie took a moment before speaking.

“You prom-“, he started reminding her with a hint of sadness in his voice but she interrupted him by pressing a finger on his lips. She silently took his hand in hers, entangled fingers and pressed reassuringly, before kissing the back of his hand and looking into his eyes to let him know that her braking the promise was necessary to make him know that she was understanding. She held no resentment at all towards Nikki: she had only taken advantage of the situation that Frédérique had provoked, maybe she had even made Richie's pain - for Frédérique felt responsible - more bearable by being there for him…like Jon had done for her when she thought that Richie had moved on. Yes, she’d keep her promise: whatever had happened during the time that she and Richie were apart would remain in the past - forgiven and forgotten. They were together now, and Richie loved her. That was all that mattered. She let go of his hand and put her arms around his neck, then pressed her cheek against his.

“Never, remember?” Richie cut her train of thoughts by insisting in reminding her of the promise they had made the previous day. She nodded against his cheek, then planted a soft kiss on it and pulled apart to take the bottle of shampoo from a shelf by the bathtub.

Richie remained silent, with his eyes lost in space for a few moments, massaging Frédérique's shoulders and neck as he pondered. Frédérique patiently gave him time by concentrating on the task of shampooing his hair. Yes, of course he’d have to tell Nikki that he and Frédérique were back together. He was still to find out whether she had played any part in the succession of coincidences and mistakes that had prevented him and Frédérique to sort things out when she'd come looking for him at Mohegan Sun. If she had, anyway, she probably wouldn’t admit it. But Richie felt forgiving: Frédérique’s reassurance and calmness made his anger level drop. Nikki was his friend and partner after all. And he was with Frédérique now. That was all that mattered.

Then Frédérique clasped his head with both hands and tilted it up so she could look into his eyes.

“I love you” she reminded him breathlessly. He was going to say the same thing but she pulled his head closer to hers so their noses touched and their eyes locked. Instead, he replied by giving her a long, soft kiss, letting his tongue press on different spots of her lips, entering slightly to caress the slick inside of her lips as she, in turn, slightly sucked his lower lip. He sighed in relief against the kiss: everything was going to be alright now. Everything was in the right place.

Some moments afterwards and more relaxed now, they agreed on both flying to California on Friday, then Frédérique would return to New York on Sunday night and Richie would remain in the West Coast two or three additional days before flying back to New York to spend a couple days with Frédérique before flying to London. Richie resumed the conversation about the project while Frédérique rinsed his hair: she clarified that there was no turning back on the decision of letting Gaby take over the construction, it wouldn't be professional otherwise. As promised, however, she’d keep a close eye on each upcoming stage. She'd regained her excitement about the project again and found it difficult to wrap her head around the fact that, in the future, she might be sharing with Richie those same spaces she herself had created. As Frédérique entertained these thoughts, Richie's stomach fluttered when happy thoughts of their future together flooded his mind, vanishing again all his preoccupations.

When they came out, she put on a pair of tight-fit jeans with knee-high boots and a yellow tube top, tying her hair with a clip on the nape of her neck, letting the wavy strands fall to the front over one shoulder. Richie put on a pair of loose-fit brown jeans and a purple V-neck T from his own clothing line. He took the rosary, the chain with the dagger token and wristband from the bathroom counter and put them on, too. Richie had taken some of what was still on the dinner tray during the course of the night so he didn’t get any breakfast and Frédérique just ate a handful of grapes – it was so late in the morning now that she might as well wait for lunch. Then both started packing. 

Frédérique was bending over her open suitcase when Richie approached her from behind and she felt him put something on her head. She reached up with her hands and felt the distinct fuzzy texture of his leopard print hat. She stood up silently and turned around to look up at Richie. With a slight smirk on his lips he reminded her.

“You said you’d be keeping this one”.

She silently put her arms around his waist and plastered herself to him. “I’m so sorry…It was befo-“

“S’alright, I didn’t get it until two days ago when I got home”, he interrupted her and encircled her with both arms. “After all it was what made me realize I couldn’t wait one more second to see you”. They held each other silently for a long minute, then he kissed the crown of her head before speaking again. “Let’s go, darlin' - it’s a beautiful day.”

Downstairs, they briefly greeted Frédérique’s parents in the living-room, her other two brothers, except for the newlywed were already hard at work at the winery and the hotel respectively, and the rest of the relatives that had been lodged in the house had left earlier in the morning. Walking away from the main door, Richie looked back over his shoulder to admire the splendid chateau again: it bore many similarities to Jon’s, only the surroundings were much more attractive and made the building stand out even more. Judging for what he had seen in the interior, it was all luxuriously and tastefully decorated. He was surprised by the, in contrast, rather simple life Frédérique led in New York compared to the exuberant lifestyle of her wealthy family.

“This is impressive, Fred…and he started this from scratch?”

She replied with a little smile and a nod before explaining. “We used to live in that smaller house on the opposite side of the vineyard”. She pointed with her finger but it was so far away Richie could only tell the it was a two-story-plus-masard traditional French house, at least 4 times smaller than the one behind him. They continued walking hand in hand, downhill along the alleys created by the vine rows. “Then the business just went well and dad bought the chateau, which doubled as  both a bed-and-breakfast and family home. Until…”, she emphasized by bowing her head, “… the business started going really, really well, and he had the modern building built, which is now the hotel. So the chateau is all for the family now”. Richie turned his head to look at the simple lines but avant-garde look of the new constructions emerging from the bright green treetops about fifty yards to the right of the chateau. He couldn't understand how it was possible for her to have decided to leave that place, that city and that way of life.

“Yes, this is all very pretty...", she acknowledged and Richie snapped his face towards her in surprise - he was sure he hadn't been thinking out loud, "...but doesn’t it happen to you that the more you travel the more you realize that there are only five things at the most that you really, really need?”. She asked him wrinkling her nose, but Richie remained insightful, meditating on her words, so she kept talking. “The more things you have, the more you have to carry around, and the more problems you have because of them. AND the harder you have to work to keep them, don’t you think?”, she chuckled and wrinkled her nose again. Richie was now finally able to understand where her sense of freedom and independence came from. He completely forgot about answering her question and instead he smiled while he admired her face under the sun. He pulled her hand up nearer to his face and kissed the back of it. Yes, she was like a breeze of fresh air, her own freedom washing over him, lightening his soul. “What?” she asked with a broad smile at his mysterious attitude.

“Luvya, babe. Can’t luvya more”, he told her shaking his head, arching his eyebrows and pursing his lips, faking an apology. He stopped their walk to pull her tight into his arms and, speaking in a low voice, almost afraid that in any minute he’d wake from the sweet dream he was having, he told her: ”I’m beginning to think I’m the luckiest guy on earth right now, you could have easily never left this place”, he lifted his face and looked around before going back to her face. “I could have easily never met you”.

“But you did, and I’m the one that feels lucky for that”. She told him before they shared a smooch and resumed their walk.

When they arrived at the cellar and warehouses, Frédérique and her brother Alain showed him around and he was able to taste the different varieties of wines they produced. She knew the craft and the processes to perfection and he noticed how she supervised everything with an eagle eye, even when it was her brother who was in charge of that task. About forty minutes later they re-emerged and started walking back uphill, being met by her dogs: a boxer and a Neapolitan mastiff, with Jacques - Frédérique’s nephew - at their tow, announcing that lunch was ready and that the family was waiting for them.

They started walking uphill hastily still holding hands as Jacques continued his way dunhill towards the winery. Frédérique quickly gained a couple of steps of advantage on Richie so she looked back to stick her tongue out and tease him as she tugged his arm, but almost simultaneously she hooked a vine root that looped up from the ground and tripped. She was carrying herself with such impulse that despite the fact that Richie increased the pressure of his hand around hers to contain her fall, he couldn’t, and they both fell down, Richie barely being able to direct his weight so he wouldn’t land on top of her. Even before they could react to what had happened they heard Jacques almost evil laughter and lifted their heads up to look at the child that was bending over his stomach a few yards from them, his mouth wide open showing his cute little teeth. Then they looked at each other and burst out in laughter, turning to lay on their backs, side by side, arms across the stomach as the spasms of laughter overtook them.

Then Jacques spun on his heels and continued his run towards the winery. They laughed until their jaws hurt and then tried to recompose themselves while they heard Jacques' little voice in the distance, speaking between laughs as he apparently told Alain what had just happened. Once their spasms receded, Richie took a deep breath and got up to take Frédérique’s hands and pull her up again and close to him. They both simultaneously remembered the first day they’d met and smiled, silently acknowledging the fact and feeling grateful for them crossing paths. 

“It'll be better if I don't let ya walk this time...", Richie informed her carelessly with a smirk and shaking his head that hung down. "...Or Lord knows in how many piece I'll have to take you back to the US”, he finished with a chuckle as he positioned himself with his back to her, bending over a little, placing supporting his upper body with one hand on his knee and patting his shoulder with the other.

Frédérique laughed hoarsely and asked. “Are you sure?”

Richie looked over his shoulder and asked her ironically with mock disappointment. “Whuh? Ya think I'm too old for that?"

Frédérique giggled and jumped on his back, then Richie immediately hooked his arms below her knees and stood straight up before starting walking towards the house. She encircled his broad shoulders with her arms, gave him a smooch on the neck and placed her cheek against his. “I don’t know”, she replied “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?”

“What's your guess?”, he teased her with a mischievous smirk.

“I’d say you’re...", she hummed to evidence her hesitation and then chuckled against his dimples, "...a horny eighteen-year-old”

Richie chortled huskily and replied with a grin as he turned his head back to meet her lips.

“That's exactly what I thought”