Prelude to a wedding

Since we're all vying for a spot in Colleen's wedding, here's a little more information on how it came to be.

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The little café looked so inviting to Colleen after a long day of power touring the Burgundy countryside. Maybe a quick cup of coffee and a smoke would lighten her mood.

The trip to France wasn’t going as she had hoped. The weather had been miserable from the very start, and it had rained seemingly non-stop for four straight days. As much as she loved them, her 10 traveling companions were beginning to get on her nerves. They were dear sweet people and old friends, but Colleen was more than ready for a break from them and the inevitable drama and groupthink that came with moving in a pack.

She thought breaking away from the herd and not joining the group tour to the castle or cathedral or winery or whatever over planned activity was on the agenda for that day would make her feel better. But the rain kept coming, Colleen’s self-guided tour had been kind of boring, she was all by herself and maybe just a tiny bit homesick.
The sun peeked out from behind a cloud just as she sat down at the cafe sidewalk table. Two minutes later she was engaged in a conversation with Jacques, the man holding down the table next to hers.

In his late fifties, he was tall and projected strength on a lean but muscular frame. His sharp blue inquisitive eyes and his Gallic nose gave his face an almost birdlike aspect. Fashionably dressed, Colleen learned that Jacques was a widower, had studied in the States (the Colorado School of Mines), loved the band ABBA and always dreamed of going to Mardi Gras in New Orleans but had never quite made it.
He was a businessman with a love of American football, and since the Colorado School of Mines didn’t play Division I football, he decided he would adopt the LSU Bayou Bengals as the team he would root for and claimed to have a collection of LSU memorabilia at home.

Jacques and Colleen learned a lot about each other over the course of the next several hours and found each other deeply intriguing.
Then Colleen looked at her watch. “Merde,” she exclaimed, “I’m way late and my barge has just sailed without me.”
“No problem,” said Jacques. “It can’t be too hard to find your barge since it won’t leave the canal. I’ll take you to the barge, but first you will have dinner at my house.”

“Oh I couldn’t impose on you,” said Colleen.

“It is no imposition Madame, in fact I have already called ahead and our ride should be arriving just now . . . ah there is Julien now.”

Colleen didn’t know a great deal about cars, but she had an idea that the classic Bentley convertible that pulled up alongside their table at the café was worth many years of her salary, even counting the extra jobs and overtime she put in. Then there was the older guy behind the wheel in a chauffeur’s getup straight out of an old movie.

Jacques saw Colleen’s look of surprise. “It’s nothing,” he said as he opened the door for her. “The car was inherited—Julien too, I’m afraid.”

Then Jacques spoke briefly to his driver. Colleen’s phrasebook French left her in the dust as they spoke, but she was able to pick out the word chateau and thought she heard the words peniche (barge) and après diner (after dinner).

They made a quick stop at the village boulongerie along the way, where Jacques and Colleen hopped out to pick up a baguette for dinner. The baker’s wife engaged Jacques in a friendly conversation, all the while casting furtive glances Colleen’s way. Colleen understood rien de tout but she could have sworn that the shopkeeper addressed him as Marcus instead of Jacques.

When Julien was back on the road Colleen asked about Jacques other name. Was Marcus his last name? Is it a French custom to use different names with different people?
“Oh that,” Jacques said dismissively. “She wasn’t saying Marcus, she was saying Marquis. I’m afraid you’re in the company of the Marquis de Beaune and some of the older people around here still insist on using the old title.”

“Ah, we’re home,” said Jacques as the car pulled down a long tree lined driveway to the front door of a beautiful chateau. “Marie will give you a quick tour and show where you can freshen up. I understand that Isabelle is quite out of sorts having to prepare dinner for an extra person on almost no notice, so I wouldn’t go in the kitchen just now. And, the weather she has cleared up and it looks like we’re in for a beautiful sunset, so I’ll meet you outside for cocktails in just a few minutes.”

Wow, this trip got interesting in a hurry, thought Colleen.