A Plane Tree in Provence

By Arlene Rains Graber

Five women, four forty years old, and one matron of sixty-one take a holiday to France anxious to escape their robotic lives in Cape Elizabeth, Maine.

Wendy, the travel agent, Penny, owner of a needlework shop, Sarah, accomplished artist, Vernie, executive director of the Portland Symphony, and Rose, who is a recent widow all wind their way through Provence with adventures conflicts, and a generous portion of food and wine.

Each evening they gather around the large plane tree at their renter farmhouse to vent and give advice to each other. Conflicts emerge when Sarah has an affair, the rest of the group blasts her behavior, and Wendy's constant critical comments to Rose almost tear the group apart.

By the end of the trip, each return home recharged to explore hidden dreams and change their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Arlene Rains Graber
• Release date: Aug 14, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465922984

Arlene Rains Graber

Arlene Rains Graber is an award winning freelance writer from Wichita, Kansas. Her writing career spans more than thirty-five years with more than 100 articles, essays, and devotionals published in numerous newspapers, magazines and periodicals. Books published are listed below. Graber is a retired travel agent who has traveled throughout the world. She is a graduate of the University of Memphis, is an avid scrapbooker, a graduate of Bible Study Fellowship, the proud grandmother of two boys, and has attended Eastminster Presbyterian Church for over thirty-seven years. Books by Arlene Rains Graber are: Devoted to Traveling (a devotional book) was published by AWOC Publishers, A Plane Tree in Provence, (Women's Fiction and First Place winner in the Kansas Authors Club Contest) Angel on My Shoulder (Christian Fiction) The Cape Elizabeth Ocean Avenue Society (second on the Plane Tree series) was released in 2012, Sarah's Choice - With a little help from Tuscany was published in 2014, and The "Casting" of Wendy Holcomb, published in 2017. Graber's newest non-fiction book, Lessons from Maine was released in 2016. It is a memoir of the author's annual retreats to Maine.

Book preview

A Plane Tree in Provence

Arlene Rains Graber

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011, Arlene Rains Graber

No part of this eBook may be reproduced, or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including, but not limited, to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior permission from the author.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not re re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Sections of this book with specific readings by the characters are taken from actual brochures and small tourist books produced by the Office of Tourism in each area of Provence, and the first-hand experiences of the author. This book is for all the women who are balancing home, family and professional lives.

Thanks to those who traveled to France with me and planted the seed for this novel, and to artist Carey Treanor, owner of Tallgrass Studios, for the book cover. A special thanks to my daughters, Shan Jabara, Penny Graber and Carey Treanor for their ongoing support, and providing valuable insight to the challenges of today's women.

A Plane Tree in Provence

Chapter 1

Penny Wilson glanced out the rear passenger window and froze. Michael? With a woman sitting close enough to him, they touched? Her questions were answered before she blinked. It was her company van. That's right, Michael was taking it in to be serviced today. Penny stared in disbelief watching the woman reach up to ruffle his hair. As the car whizzed ahead, she pressed her face to the window to get a second look. It was Michael all right, and the woman now had her arm protectively around his shoulder. A redhead. Who did she know that was redheaded?

A crushed feeling gnawed in the pit of Penny’s stomach. Then panic. She turned to see a questioned look on Vernie’s face. Wendy's husband was taking Penny and Vernie to the airport. Soon, they would be boarding for a trip to France. Penny didn’t know whether to blurt out what she'd seen, or burst into tears. Neither. It would be too embarrassing, and one thing she hated was to express emotion in public. She fought back tears and heaved a deep breath. Her heart pounded as she fought to gain composure. Her body rocked in uncontrollable spasms until she felt a hand on her knee.

Goodness Penny, you’re as white as a sheet. Vernie moved her hand to Penny’s arm. Are you all right? In a trance or just tuned out? I asked if you remembered to bring Chai Tea and coffee for the farmhouse.

Wendy turned from the front seat twisting her head around to see Penny. Everyone okay back there?

Penny gasped, lost her breath, and shivered. Sorry, I was distracted for a moment. Yes, I packed enough to get us started.

You look as though you’ve seen a ghost. Wendy flung an arm over the seat and touched Penny’s knee.

I’m fine. Just travel jitters.

Fear of flying? Vernie asked.

No, it’s just that….

Wendy’s husband, Jerry, announced their arrival at the airport before she could finish. I’ll drop you off with the luggage then park in the garage. I want to make sure you get off okay. Don’t want you girls sitting around an airport all day if the flight is cancelled.

Don’t even suggest that, Wendy wailed. We have a connection to make or…oh goodness, don’t even think about that.

Penny scoured the area outside the Portland International Jetport for Rose and Sarah, who would be meeting them. Soon, the five of them would be off to the Provence area of France, for a three-week vacation. The sun warmed her face and for a moment, she forgot all about the ugly scene she’d just witnessed. The day couldn’t have been more perfect—until now.

Jerry placed the luggage curbside for the women and they headed inside the terminal. Penny lagged behind gazing back toward the interstate. She must have been mistaken. Her imagination sometimes soared out of control. That’s it. Penny frowned and gritted her teeth. She wished but knew full well, it wasn't her imagination. It mattered little Michael was a devoted husband and father. It was Michael, driving a minivan with Designer’s Pen scrawled across the side. Her van. From her store.

Who is that woman with my husband? Penny murmured.

Wendy steered her luggage through the revolving doors watching Penny until they’d both cleared. Did you say something about your husband?

Penny tossed her head, sending a mass of blond curls everywhere and smiled. Just having a conversation with myself about whether I need to remind him to pick the boys up from school today. He’s not used to doing that you know. A true statement—at least about the reminder, because now, it appeared Michael had other things on his mind.

Understand. Whoever said men were self-sufficient probably wasn’t married.

Penny smiled, knowing that in her case, Wendy’s words were true. Michael was helpless around the house and depended on her for everything. Crazy. If Michael thinks he can live without me, he’d better rethink. Who would do the laundry, keep house, take care of the boys, pay the bills, and cook? She smoothed her skirt, with her free hand, making sure she looked perfect. She’d dressed carefully this morning, and wore a tailored brown Ellen Tracy traveling suit with a crisp white ruffled blouse. Foregoing her usual three-inch heels, she wore two-inch brown-leather sling pumps, which clacked in sharp clear pecks as she walked. She focused on warding off the hurt that threatened to explode into hysteria. This can’t be happening. People like Michael and me don’t have marital problems. Certainly not affairs. We’re much too proper.

###

Wendy headed toward the ticket counter and waved to her traveling companions. Bristling at the sight of Rose, she addressed her greeting to Sarah. Morning.

If Rose noticed, she didn’t let on. Instead, she gave a warm smile to their leader. Morning, Wendy. I’m so nervous I couldn’t eat a thing for breakfast. This is my first trip in a very long time.

Wendy ignored the remark, instead looked down and unzipped her tote bag to retrieve her passport. Another nervous traveler. Penny was a total surprise, but anything was possible with Rose. She looked toward Sarah and silently wondered what made Sarah tick. A nervous tingle ran up Wendy’s spine. How was she going to endure traveling with four women she barely knew?

Wendy looked up and saw Sarah place an arm on Rose’s shoulder and give her wink. Don’t worry. I’m a bit nervous myself, but so ready.

As the travel agent of the group, Wendy had arranged the trip, and it was no secret she was less than enchanted Rose was part of it. Concealing annoyance was not one of her strong suits. She tried, but diplomacy lay hidden somewhere in her subconscious.

Reel in the nerves girls, nothing to be anxious about.

From the beginning, she hadn’t wanted Rose to go on the trip. In fact, Wendy had only asked Vernie. However, that was another story. Here they all were, and she would make the best of it. Seating. Surely she hadn’t seated Rose next to her. She’d better check before they left the counter. No way was she about to sit for six hours next to Rose.

Who is in 21B across the water from Boston?

Me Vernie raised a hand and smiled. Okay?

Wendy expelled a sigh of relief. More than okay. I’m next to you. We’ll have a great time solving all the worlds’ problems.

After everyone checked in, the group started down the concourse for the gate. Jerry gave Wendy a bear hug before departing, and wished them all a safe trip.

Onward, Wendy motioned toward the gate. We are officially on our way. Now, if I can tolerate Rose, we don’t lose our luggage, and we make that connection in Boston, it’ll be a grand day.

###

Noticing a pay phone, Penny stopped and fumbled for coins. I need to make a call. I’ll only be a minute. She hadn’t used a pay phone in years. But for Europe, cell phones needed a special chip, and they’d all decided against the extra expense. Drat. They only took credit cards. Quickly she retrieved a card and dialed her home number. She was confident her eyes hadn’t deceived her. It was Michael, but who was the woman? It could be a staff person, or a friend that Michael was giving a ride. Still, she knew most of the workers in his office. After several rings, the machine came on. Should she leave a message saying she had seen them? Or, just say, Have a wonderful time while I’m gone. I’ll miss you.

What she wanted to say, was, Who is the redhead, and why is she fondling my husband in my company car? Miserable, she guessed there wasn’t anything she had to say, so hung up.

She sighed, gathered her purse and heaved her carryon onto her shoulder. Her mind traced the morning’s events. Could she have missed something? Michael had dashed off to an early breakfast meeting before she was out of the shower. Breakfast meetings with clients were scheduled regularly, so she hadn’t thought one way or the other about this one. She felt numb. Her arms and legs were like rubber making if difficult to walk. Nausea bubbled in her stomach, and her brain quit functioning. What a way to start a holiday. She must get herself together. One thing was sure; she didn’t want the others to know. Thank goodness, they hadn’t seen him.

Did you get Michael? Vernie slowed down for Penny to catch up.

No. There was no answer. I’ll call his office in a little bit. He’s probably there by now.

Sounds like you already miss him, huh?

Penny winced. Yes. Isn’t that crazy?

Not really. After I left Ralph this morning, I had sort of an empty feeling, as if it would be years before I saw him again. The only time we’ve been away from each other in fifteen years, is when I was researching my Master’s thesis at Brown. But even then he came over for a couple of weekends.

I’ve never been away from Clay. Sarah grinned, then gazed into space. Guess the opportunity never came up.

When I was married, we never took separate vacations, Rose said, and now we’ve been apart two years.

Instantly there was silence. Just as I thought, Wendy hissed to Sarah. Pitiful Pearl starts before we even get there.

Sarah leaned toward Wendy as they walked. Be nice. Rose was just making a comment, nothing more. Thank goodness she didn’t hear you—at least I don’t think she did.

Giving Sarah a you can’t be serious scowl before turning to look back at the others, Wendy changed the subject. Won’t be long now until we’ll be skipping through the French vineyards.

Penny reached for her credit card once again. I’m still worried if I told Michael what time to pick up the kids. I’m going to try him again. You go ahead, and I’ll catch up. She punched in his work number.

Michaels’s secretary answered. Good morning, Wilson Insurance Agency.

Nan, this is Penny. Is Michael in yet?

No, I believe he said he had a meeting this morning. Something I can help you with, or tell him?

No. She hesitated. I just thought I would tell him goodbye again before we took off. Nothing important.

That’s right. You’re leaving for France today. Boy, do I envy you. Have a good trip, and I’ll tell him you called to say an extra goodbye.

Now for the cell phone. She should have called it first, but was hoping to find him at home or work. Calls to cell phones never told where the party was located. She slid the credit card in again. Busy. The phone rolled to call waiting and then Michael’s message. Frustrated, Penny hung up. Her heart sank deeper before giving way anger. Jerk!

Michael was at a meeting all right, but with a redhead—a meeting that had mischief written all over it and didn’t involve insurance. Questions swirled in her mind. Should she cancel the trip and get things settled at home? Should she confront Michael? She needed to find out who the woman was. Someone he worked with, no doubt, or a client he’d fallen for. Just when I have an opportunity to escape the stress of business and home, Michael ruins it.

Quickly her thoughts reverted to logic. What could she do if she stayed? Confront him? Tell him to quit whatever he was doing? Tell him there was no room for two women in his life? No, one person’s emotions do not control another’s. Obviously, there was a problem in their marriage, which she didn’t know about. But, what good would it do to cancel her trip? She'd just be more miserable wishing she were in France with the group. Whatever was in store for them would still be there in three weeks. Anyway, she was long overdue for a vacation. When she thought about all those evenings consumed with the boys’ homework, pouring over the business books, cooking, and cleaning while her husband was out on appointments, at the gym, or socializing with his buddies—the idea of canceling the trip was out of the question. I’m going, and I’ll put Michael out of my mind. There’ll be plenty of time to deal with him after the trip. No redheaded floozy is going to change my plans.

Did you reach Michael? Vernie asked, as Penny caught up with the group. You have worried written all over your face. Want to talk about it?

Nothing I can’t fix when I get back. You know the usual. Kids fighting over trivial things, and a husband who isn’t used to coping.

Are you sure that’s all it is? Flying across the water can be unnerving. But trust me, once we’re airborne, you’ll be fine. Think of this as a chance to spread your wings and leave business and family responsibilities at home.

Thanks, Vernie, I needed that. I’m sure once we take off I’ll forget all my apprehensions. It’s just that…well, I hope I’m doing the right thing.

You are. Vernie patted her on the arm reassuringly. Getting away is the best medicine for just about everyone. Just ask Dr. Olander. Did you bring a good book?

With a sheepish grin, Penny pointed to her carry-on bag. No, but I did bring some new cross-stitch catalogs. Where oh where would I be without my business? Yes, that would be the immediate answer. Once I’m safely aboard the aircraft, I’ll forget about this and lose myself in researching new items for the shop.

Hey, they’re boarding, Wendy said. Let’s get in line. Penny, everything good on the home front?

Penny gave a noncommittal shrug. Hopefully. Last chance. Should she go or not?

Chapter 2

Wendy flipped through her documents and performed a mental checklist. The flight to Boston from Portland on Delta’s regional jet had taken a mere forty-five minutes. Now for the flight across the water. So far so good. After landing in Boston, she led the group to the tram that would take them to the International terminal. She glanced around expecting to see Jerry, then remembered he wasn't with her. It seemed odd not to have him along. She loved how he always whistled while walking down the concourse and playfully joked with everyone that would listen. She missed him.

The women waited patiently for the tram, Wendy shoving an apprehensive feeling about traveling with women she barely knew out of her mind. She looked from one to the other in her group. It was an interesting group, and one that would know each other better after the trip. Comments made by John, the pharmacist in their small town of Cape Elizabeth, replayed in her mind. She wasn't sure why she had shared the details with him, but when she stopped in to get prescriptions filled for the trip, she rattled on like a nervous cat. John busied himself while she shared the particulars.

Kind of interesting how it all came about—the trip, I mean. At the church social in May, I voiced that I wanted to go to France, but Jerry couldn’t get away this year, and Vernie Holcomb said she’d always wanted to go. Then Sarah Stafford said she would go, and it sort of took off from there. It wasn’t long before Rose Patterson, and Penny Wilson said they’d go, and we’re now a group. You know, I’m forty-one years old, and I don’t believe I’ve taken a trip with four women since college and those sorority mystery weekends.

John grinned, glancing up from the prescriptions. Kinda’ wondered why Jerry wasn’t going with you.

He couldn’t get away from the store this year. Economy and all. He didn’t feel right about letting his employees' do all the work when they were already short handed. We had the money saved for a trip, so he suggested I go anyway.

John prattled on. Guess Rose is having a hard time getting over the death of her husband. No one’s seen or heard from her in months. I’m surprised she’s going.

I am too. Wendy frowned and heaved a big sigh. We have Sarah to thank. She was the Good Samaritan who invited her. Personally, I wouldn’t have missed her if she’d said no.

In an instant, she was sorry she’d made that comment. Knowing John, it would soon be all over town she hadn’t wanted Rose to go. She squashed the thought and pushed the conversation with John from her mind. She ran her fingers through her short hair, sighed, and hitched her carry-on onto the other shoulder. Well, it was the truth. From the start, she hadn’t wanted Rose to go with them, and had voiced it to the others. Rose was old enough to be her mother, and there was not one thing interesting or attractive about her. Wendy’s eyes focused on Rose. Was she wrong? No. The woman has grey hair, and that pantsuit looked liked something from the 70’s. Dang, I’ve got to get over being so critical. Doesn’t do anyone any good.

Still no tram. Where was it? Wendy shifted from one foot to the other. Her mind reverted to John’s comments about the others in the group.

I’m surprised Penny Wilson can get away, what with her business and all, he said. Say now, there’s a real looker, that Penny.

Wendy couldn’t help but wince. No one would ever say that about her, given her mousey brown straight hair that did nothing but accent her sharp nose and thin mouth. Her eyes were too small and the endless lawn of freckles over her entire body didn’t help. Nope. Even though she had a lanky model-type body, no one had ever called her a looker.

Have you seen Sarah’s exhibit in the library? John rambled on. She is one talented lady.

Yes, I have, and I agree she is talented. Actually, I have to confess that we’re all just acquaintances and not close friends, so it could prove exciting. You know, there are close friends there for you through thick and thin, and then there are acquaintances you sort of know. Well, this group is what I would label as acquaintances.

Wendy smarted recalling the actual meaning of her statement. Like how did she know about real friends? There wasn't one single person whom she could call a close friend. Probably her fault in that she simply hadn’t made room in her life for friends. Gosh, now more than ever, she wished for someone who could help shoulder the crisis ahead. Before she left last week, the owner gave her a heads up saying he wanted to close the business soon. Even thought she hadn’t planned on working there forever, she wanted it to be her decision when to leave. Truth be known, the aspects of losing her job bothered her more than she let on.

Know what you mean about the difference between real friends and acquaintances. John nodded placing the prescription into a bag. I have a truck load of acquaintances, but only a handful of real friends. Traveling in the French countryside and sharing all that beauty and history together is bound to make you close friends, or at least create a shared bond.

Whatever, she thought, returning to the present. Here I go with four women. Surely, one of them is bound to become a good friend. Yikes, I hope all the different personalities get along.

Finally, the tram. We’ll take the tram to the international terminal, and if we see a take-out on the way, I’d like to pick up dinner.

Won’t we get dinner on the plane? Sarah asked.

Yes, but these days it’s not what it used to be. Anyway I’d prefer a chef salad, a couple of hard rolls, and maybe some cheese and crackers instead of a preheated frozen dinner of overcooked meat and soggy vegetables.

Sarah smiled and nodded in agreement. Guess I’d never thought of taking my own food.

The security lines were long, but the group chatted freely and time went fast. Once through the second security check, it was time to look for food.

They decided on Hooligans. After selecting salads, cheese, crackers, and cheesecake, they stopped in at the bookstore where Sarah picked up a magazine on French art; Rose, a magazine on the wines of France; and Wendy a People Magazine.

I think between my book, this mag, dinner, and a couple of glasses of wine, I should be entertained for the duration of the flight, Rose made the remark her voice full of excitement. I’m so glad I decided to join you on this trip. This is going to be quite an experience for me. I mean—I’ve never traveled without a man before. It’s almost sinful.

Wendy gave a shot at being civil. Just stick with us, Rose. A new life awaits you. God knows you need one. She’d better change the subject before her positive comment gave way to a critical one.

Now would be a good time to divvy up for the money kitty. Everyone put in 100 Euros. That should keep us in food and gas money for a couple of days.

Tell me again why we're keeping a kitty? Penny reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet.

Keeping a money kitty to pay for meals, gasoline, tipping and groceries for the farmhouse eliminates five women from constantly digging into their pockets and figuring out how to split a bill five ways. There's nothing more annoying than five women trying to split a bill to the exact penny. Wendy grinned and rolled her eyes. Once our initial stash is exhausted, we'll each put in another 100, and each day a different person will be in charge of the money and paying.

The gate attendant called for boarding. Passport and boarding pass out, Wendy reminded. And don’t forget to drink lots of water, so you won’t get dehydrated. And try to walk some and keep your feet elevated if possible to avoid swelling.

Yes, Mother, Sarah giggled.

The women took their seats aboard Air France flight 337, destination Paris. The flight to Paris would be six hours and forty-five minutes. Stretching her long legs under the seat in front of her, Wendy took a deep breath, adjusted the air vent, and settled in. So far so good, but I wonder what’s with Penny. She seems nervous about something more than flying.

###

Leaving the plane, at Charles de Gaulle Airport, Penny fought to keep her thoughts on the trip, but her mood swung back to anguish. She felt an intense frown etch deep across her face. She walked with head bent eyes fixed on the ground. Why hadn’t she stayed home? She should be attending to responsibilities instead of ignoring them. She felt sick all over, and there was a heavy feeling about her entire being. It was all she could do to drag her feet through the terminal. If Michael was having an affair, and it appeared he was, why? An affair was contrary to how Michael treated his wife. His behavior didn’t resemble a man having an affair. Why, he’d even written her a note before he left this morning for his meeting. She had it in her purse, but knew it by heart. Have a great time honey, and don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine. I love you. Be safe.

Could have been a guilt note, she guessed, but then it was only last week that he had asked her if she would like to