It's just different. A little more informal maybe.” “That sounds great.” Great was not exactly the word Pascale would have used to describe the house called Love at First Sight, but she had done the best she could. “Have you talked to the others?”
“No, I"ve been too busy,” she said, sounding exhausted, and John laughed at what she'd said.
“Doing what? Lying on the beach?” He had envisioned her swimming and sunbathing all day, not scrubbing floors and bathroom walls.
“No, I was just busy organizing the house.”
“Why don't you just relax for a change?” She would have loved it, but if she had, he would have had a stroke when he walked through the door.
“Maybe tomorrow,” she said vaguely, through a yawn. “Well, I'll see you the day after that.”
“I can hardly wait,” she smiled, thinking of him, as she sat in the dilapidated kitchen. As she sat there, she could see a spot of grease they'd missed on the stove.
“Get some sleep, or you'll be exhausted when we arrive.”
“Don't worry. I will. Have a safe trip.” After they hung up, she turned out the lights, and went up to bed. She had made Agathe change the sheets, the others had been gray and frayed, and she had finally found a pair for each bed that looked relatively unused. The
towels looked tired too, but at least now they were clean. She fell asleep almost the minute her head touched the pillow, and she slept until the sun came up the next day. The shades didn't roll down, and the shutters were broken too. But she didn't mind the sun filling the room.
And she worked just as hard that day. The workers the realtor had provided were worn out by then, and grumbling, but Pascale managed to keep them there all afternoon. And when she went outside to see what Marius had done, the front lawn looked impeccable, and all the broken lawn furniture had disappeared. What was left was serviceable, though in dire need of a coat of paint. She wondered if she had time for Marius to tackle that too. But when she looked for him, she found him in his room, snoring and sound asleep, with all three dogs draped over him, and three empty beer bottles on his bed. It was obvious that, for the moment at least, she wasn't going to get much more work out of him. And Agathe was wearing out too.
At five o"clock, Pascale drove into St Tropez, and came back with the car full. She had bought candles and flowers, and huge vases to put them in, and arrangements of dried flowers too. She had bought three more colorful shawls to use in the living room, and three cans of white paint for Marius to tackle the lawn furniture the next day. And by the time she was through, at nine o"clock, every inch of the house was immaculate, the lawns had been mowed, the weeds pulled, and there were flowers and magazines in every room. She had bought wonderful French soaps, and spare towels for all of them, and every room of the villa had been magically transformed. It may not have been love at first sight, but it was drastically improved.
She couldn't even imagine what they'd say when they saw the house now. It looked better to her, but it was still not what any of them had thought it would be. And she was afraid they would all be angry at her. But there wasn't much more she could do, without a house painter, a contractor, and a decorator. And when she finally went down to see the boat at the dock that night, she wondered if it would even sail. It looked as though it had been tied up for years, and the sails looked tattered and stained, but she knew that if there was any hope at all, Robert and Eric would get it under sail.
She fell into bed exhausted again that night, but with a sense of accomplishment. She was enormously relieved that she had had the foresight to come down two days before their lease began. If she hadn't, she was sure the others would never have stayed, and now she thought they would. At least, she hoped they would. She didn't want to give up the month in St
“No, I"ve been too busy,” she said, sounding exhausted, and John laughed at what she'd said.
“Doing what? Lying on the beach?” He had envisioned her swimming and sunbathing all day, not scrubbing floors and bathroom walls.
“No, I was just busy organizing the house.”
“Why don't you just relax for a change?” She would have loved it, but if she had, he would have had a stroke when he walked through the door.
“Maybe tomorrow,” she said vaguely, through a yawn. “Well, I'll see you the day after that.”
“I can hardly wait,” she smiled, thinking of him, as she sat in the dilapidated kitchen. As she sat there, she could see a spot of grease they'd missed on the stove.
“Get some sleep, or you'll be exhausted when we arrive.”
“Don't worry. I will. Have a safe trip.” After they hung up, she turned out the lights, and went up to bed. She had made Agathe change the sheets, the others had been gray and frayed, and she had finally found a pair for each bed that looked relatively unused. The
towels looked tired too, but at least now they were clean. She fell asleep almost the minute her head touched the pillow, and she slept until the sun came up the next day. The shades didn't roll down, and the shutters were broken too. But she didn't mind the sun filling the room.
And she worked just as hard that day. The workers the realtor had provided were worn out by then, and grumbling, but Pascale managed to keep them there all afternoon. And when she went outside to see what Marius had done, the front lawn looked impeccable, and all the broken lawn furniture had disappeared. What was left was serviceable, though in dire need of a coat of paint. She wondered if she had time for Marius to tackle that too. But when she looked for him, she found him in his room, snoring and sound asleep, with all three dogs draped over him, and three empty beer bottles on his bed. It was obvious that, for the moment at least, she wasn't going to get much more work out of him. And Agathe was wearing out too.
At five o"clock, Pascale drove into St Tropez, and came back with the car full. She had bought candles and flowers, and huge vases to put them in, and arrangements of dried flowers too. She had bought three more colorful shawls to use in the living room, and three cans of white paint for Marius to tackle the lawn furniture the next day. And by the time she was through, at nine o"clock, every inch of the house was immaculate, the lawns had been mowed, the weeds pulled, and there were flowers and magazines in every room. She had bought wonderful French soaps, and spare towels for all of them, and every room of the villa had been magically transformed. It may not have been love at first sight, but it was drastically improved.
She couldn't even imagine what they'd say when they saw the house now. It looked better to her, but it was still not what any of them had thought it would be. And she was afraid they would all be angry at her. But there wasn't much more she could do, without a house painter, a contractor, and a decorator. And when she finally went down to see the boat at the dock that night, she wondered if it would even sail. It looked as though it had been tied up for years, and the sails looked tattered and stained, but she knew that if there was any hope at all, Robert and Eric would get it under sail.
She fell into bed exhausted again that night, but with a sense of accomplishment. She was enormously relieved that she had had the foresight to come down two days before their lease began. If she hadn't, she was sure the others would never have stayed, and now she thought they would. At least, she hoped they would. She didn't want to give up the month in St
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