They continued on along the rows, working methodically. At times like this, Sven existed entirely in the present, focusing only on the vines that needed his care.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. There was one other thing—he couldn’t stop thinking about Mathieu, couldn’t stop watching the young man’s slender figure as he moved ahead of Sven. Spending time with Mathieu made life at the vineyard better, even if Sven’s feelings about him were conflicted.
Mathieu had an effect on him. His carefree attitude made Sven’s heart lighter. Sven was learning to develop a more positive view of life, and also to take pleasure in the moments he was able to enjoy—like these conversations about grapes and the history of Bordeaux. They also discussed culture and literature. Sven wasn’t used to talking about books, or reading for enjoyment. Mathieu had taught him to do that, to live in the moment. To find pleasure in a book, but also in simple things like the feel of the morning sun’s first rays caressing his face, or the afternoon breeze cool on his skin after a hard and sweaty task.
As a result, now when Sven was working, he focused on what he was doing, just as before, but he was also able to contemplate nature’s simple beauty. Things like the dewdrops on the green leaves of the vines, sparkling in the morning sun. He mustn’t think about the attraction he felt for the man beside him. Quite the reverse. Suppress, suppress, suppress. Push aside. That was the only thing that helped.
Never give in.
That afternoon Sven sat down to do some more drawing. As soon as he had the opportunity, he took out his pad and the pencils Juliette had managed to acquire for him. He realized this was the only time of day when he didn’t think about Mathieu; drawing absorbed all his senses. He had continued to draw the oak; this particular sketch was takinglonger than the rest, and he was sitting by the wall concentrating hard when Mathieu appeared in front of him. Sven stopped and looked up.
He wanted to draw Mathieu.
He was the most beautiful man Sven had ever seen. There were imperfections, certainly—his eyes were slightly too large, his nose wasn’t completely straight—but this gave him character. It was his aura, though, that really captivated Sven. There was something dreamy about him—that tousled hair, the gangly body. The melancholy in his eyes. And yet he could be so carefree, laughing and telling his stories. Sven wanted to capture all of that.
He blinked a few times, didn’t want to stare. “Should you really be out here?”
Mathieu didn’t answer, but looked at the pad instead. “So you’re still drawing the oak?”
Sven nodded.
“You miss home.”
Sven had told him about the oak tree back home, and the fact that it resembled the one at the vineyard.
“I don’t know, but I do think about my family a lot. Especially my mother. We’ve written letters to each other the whole time I’ve been in the Legion. I’m afraid she’ll be worried about me.” He knew she was worried about him. Sven and his father had always had a special bond, but it was Mom who had given him and his sister all her love. Several people in the village said that she spoiled the two of them with her hugs and kisses, but Mom said that was nonsense, and always hugged them a little too tightly for a little too long. Even after they were grown up, she had still been there with those hugs. He missed her and her unconditional love so much. Somehow it had become even stronger after Sven and the other man had been exposed.
Did she think he was dead? His heart broke at the thought of it, of her anxiety.
“You could send her a message.” Mathieu’s eyes were sparkling.
“It’s impossible, the Germans check everything.”
“I don’t mean a letter, I mean a bottle of wine. With a message only she will understand.” Mathieu paced up and down, thinking. “Does she know you draw?”
Sven nodded. “I’ve drawn and painted lots of things for her over the years.”
“Okay. Well, we have brass plaques, round plaques that are embedded in the glass bottles for our finest wines. You can etch the oak onto the plaque, and when she sees it, she’ll know it’s from you. Maybe you can send a letter, too, if we make a box with a secret compartment? And if she opens the box, she’ll find the letter.” He walked around in circles and raised his arms in the air as he spoke, as if they were making epic plans, which made Sven smile.
“I don’t know if I dare write too much in a letter in case the box is confiscated and the Germans go through it. That could put us all in danger. If they find out I’m a legionnaire and I’m here ...”
“You’re right. But how about a note with a short message telling her to open the bottle? We can put something inside the cork, maybe an address?” Mathieu’s face had lit up with excitement. He sank down on the bench next to Sven and took his hands. “She’ll realize you’re alive.”
Sven’s eyes filled with tears. His beloved mother. Quickly he blinked away the moisture. What would Mathieu think of him? A man crying!
“I’ll set aside a brass plaque.” Mathieu got to his feet, ready to hurry away and make a start on the project right now. Sven stood up, too, and stopped him, placed a hand on his arm.
“Thank you. For helping me.”
“It’s not a problem—I can see that you miss your family. I can see how much it means to you. I’ve lost a great deal, but at least I still have my family.” Mathieu looked at him for a long time. Placed his own hand on Sven’s. This time his touch burned.
After Mathieu had gone, Sven sat down again, thinking over what had happened. He had expected Mathieu to say that he was returning the favor because Sven was working in the vineyard, but in fact he wanted to help Sven contact his family because hecared about him. Then there was the touch, the look.
The whole thing took Sven’s breath away.
No. He couldn’t read anything into this. Just because Sven suffered from this ... affliction, it didn’t mean that Mathieu suffered the same urges. Sven was seeing something that wasn’t there.
After a while he went back to the vines, driving himself hard in order to numb his feelings. He mustn’t act on his impulses. The emotions that had blossomed recently simply proved that he had to get back to the Legion soon to cleanse himself once more.
