Fayette-A Time to Leave

Troubled by the urgent request of her grandfather, Violet sprang to her feet and rushed to the hallway. Standing there was a fellow who looked like Guy. She blinked several times wondering if she was imagining things, but when she looked again, he was still there.

“Guy?”

“Oui, ma petite amie!” Swiftly, he pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly that words were not possible.

She wrapped her arms about his neck, taking in the glorious woodsy aroma that permeated his mackinaw jacket. Her throat tightened, and tears welled up and rolled down her cheek, dampening his in the process. In the thrill of the moment, she was somehow aware that her grandfather had scooped up Blackie and retreated behind the parlor’s closed door, giving her and Guy complete privacy.

He held her for he didn’t know how long, and then he tenderly took her face in his hands, kissing her on the forehead and on each cheek. Fixing her warm brown eyes with his steady gaze, he spoke the words that he had uttered in many a winter dream.

“Je t’aime, ma petite amie. Joyeux Noël!”

“I love you, Guy! This surely is a Merry Christmas!” Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Guy kissed them away with the gentle brush of his mustache. “There, there, ma petite amie. All is well. We are together now.”