Linda Kovic-Skow - French Illusions: My Story as an American Au Pair in the Loire Valley

T he sun streamed through my window at daybreak, but I didnt stir until the children crept into my bedroom, waking me with their giggles.

Pushing myself into a sitting position, I gave them a sleepy grin. Bonjour, les enfants! Good morning, children.

Bonjour, Mademoiselle Kovic . They already knew my name!

Seven-year-old Colette possessed her mothers coloring along with her fathers good looks. Slender, with gleaming porcelain skin, her thick blonde hair fell in ringlets down to her waist. Dressed in a short skirt and sweater, the epitome of femininity, her iceberg blue eyes gazed down at me with an air of confidencemuch like Madame.

Antoine, a handsome four-year-old, sported dark curly hair, dense lashes and freckles: a combination utterly endearing. Unlike his sister, his clothing was unkempt, both shoelaces untied, his shirttail half untucked from his pants. Leaning forward on the edge of my bed, he peered at me a little too closely, his honey-brown eyes filled with curiosity.

Lunging forward, Colette tugged on both my hands. Maman nous a envoy vous chercher! Her French words tumbled out too rapidly for me to understand, but her meaning remained clear: their mother had sent them to find me.

Okay, I said, throwing my legs over the side of the bed, stretching, and rooting around in my suitcase for jeans and a green sweater. Quickly, I combed my hair into a ponytail and turned toward the children. Lets go!

In the kitchen, an informal wooden table and chairs sat just inside the swinging door entrance. A large stainless steel sink stood at the opposite end of the room. Numerous cupboards, a well-worn wooden cutting block, a refrigerator, and double ovens filled the narrow space in between.

Bonjour, Mademoiselle Kovic. Madame Dubois met my gaze but didnt rise from her chair. She appeared wedged, her enormous abdomen looming in front of her. We usually have a simple breakfast in the morning. Help yourself to some bread and jam.

Pouring myself a cup of the aromatic coffee, I cut a slice of bread, spread it with jam and settled at the table with my patron and her children.

We are all anxious to hear about your life back home. I can help with translations as we go along. Madame took a sip of her coffee. We know you live in Seattle, Washington. We even looked it up on a map. Is that where you were born?

Yes, Ive lived there most of my life.

Colette leaned forward. Avez-vous des frres ou des surs?

I registered that as brothers or sisters. I have one brother who is a little older than I am. His name is Melvin, but everyone calls him Bud.

Colette seemed to have a list of things she wanted to know about me. Avez-vous des animaux domestiques?

Pets, I surmised. No, but I grew up with a sheep dog named Sniffty and a pony named Whinny.

The children fixed their attention on their mother, waiting for a translation, and then Antoine took up the questioning. Quaimez-vous faire? His mother murmured, What activities do you enjoy?

I enjoy swimming, fishing, hiking, reading, and dancing, but I like to travel most of all. I had hooked him with the fishing.

Quel est le plus gros poisson que vous avez pris?

The biggest fish? It was this big, I chuckled, showing him the approximate size of the fish with my hands. Very ugly with gigantic teeth.

Antoine gaped at me, imitating my gesture before launching another question. Et les jouets? Quels sont vos jouets prfrs?

I guessed his meaning. He was asking about my favorite toys.

Colette glared at her brother. Antoine! Elle est trop vieille pour les jouets! I wasnt as sure as she was that I was too old for toys, but she didnt wait for a response. Quelles sont vos

Their mother raised her palm and shook her head. a suffit pour le moment , she said. Tu pourras en demander plus aprs que Mademoiselle Kovic soit rgle .

The children appeared eager to learn more about me, but there would be plenty more opportunities over the next few months.

Mais, Maman Colette beseeched, her palms clasped in prayer.

Madame Dubois jerked her chin toward the door. Colette, a suffit, ne discute pas. Va jouer dans ta chambre avec ton frre . She glanced at me. Ive told them enough questions for now. They will go upstairs and play so that you can settle in.

Pushing out her lower lip, Colette grabbed her brothers hand and stomped from the room.

Mid-morning, the children and I exited the Chteau de Montclair into the bright sunshine and followed a well-worn path to the garden. Wildflowers, interspersed with stinging nettles, vied for a place in the available light while beech trees swayed in the breeze. Fabien, the family dog, a shepherd mix with a happy-go-lucky attitude, led the way. Antoine and Colette followed close behind, laughing as they tagged each other back and forth.

Within minutes, the trail opened up into a clearing that encompassed a large garden encircled by a low stone enclosure.

Venez par ici! Colette said, signaling for us to enter through a primitive metal gate.

The dog tried to enter with us, but Antoine held him back. Non, Fabien, tas pas le droit dentrer! He made it clear this was a dog-free zone.

The well-organized garden included twenty rows of vegetables, berries and herbs. As we ambled along, the children took turns calling out their names in French. Back at home, my parents planted a garden every year, so I recognized most of the produce, but I had never seen an artichoke plant before. When Colette identified it, my eyes widened in wonder.

In one corner of the parcel, red grapes grew thick on an arbor, and in another corner, dahlias, asters and fragrant roses showed off their brilliant colors. So this was where Madame Dubois gathered flowers for her extravagant bouquets.

Near the garden sat an orchard filled with apple, pear, and peach trees, their branches heavy with ripened fruit. Just beyond, a rope swing hung on an ancient oak. Antoine and I ran to it, and he clambered aboard. I drew back his seat, grunting as I shoved him forward.

Plus haut! Plus haut! he yelled, chortling in delight as I pushed him ever higher, both of us taking pleasure in the moment.

I beckoned Colette with my hand and she moved closer, stopping to gather daisies along the way. Shoving her fist toward me, she spoke in French, her words brisk. Pouvez-vous maider faire un collier?

I shrugged. Je ne comprends pas , I confessed, contrite since I didnt understand what she was asking me.

Colette repeated her request, annoyed that I still didnt understand and then she rolled her eyes, spun around and marched away.

I wish I could communicate with her . Shouting her name, I pointed to the swing, encouraging her to take a turn, but she didnt respond and my throat tightened. She had already formed a negative opinion of me. This was going to be more difficult than I imagined.

Two hours after we returned to the chteau, Madame Dubois bustled into Antoines room, her energetic voice preceding her. Mademoiselle, would you like to come shopping with me in Songais? Folding her arms under her bosom, she added, I want to show you around the municipality.

Yes, Id love to! I said, leaping to my feet.

Antoine jumped up as well, whining in protest once he realized what was going on. Maman, on tait en train de jouer!

Tu peux continuer plus tard , she said, offering me a quick translation. I promised Antoine that you will continue your game later.

Of course, I replied, nodding at my young ward as I followed his mother out the door.