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realized that Laurène’s presence explained his son’s touchy behavior. He turned to her, and she hurried out of the office.
    Jules was going to follow her, but Aurélien said, “Hold on, cowboy! You can deal with your clothes later on. I feel like going on a tour of the vineyards. Want to come with me?”
    The way Aurélien asked made Jules loosen up.
    “Are you going to need a cane, old man?” he asked, with a grin on his face.
    They stepped out of the office together and passed by the small room where Laurène was busy typing, her back turned to them.
    “You’re getting sensitive,” Aurélien muttered. “Is she troubling you?”
    Jules said nothing and opened the front door for Aurélien. They headed for the Jeep, parked at the foot of the terrace.
    “Do you think that Alex is going to be okay in Bordeaux?”
    “Yes. …” Jules said in a neutral voice.
    “He has to …”
    “I know. …”
    Aurélien stopped suddenly a few feet from the Jeep.
    “Come on, Jules, relax!”
    Surprised, Jules turned to his father.
    “What?”
    “I mean it! Here, you drive. Let’s start at the west field. I haven’t been there in a good eight days. Tell me what’s bothering you. …”
    Jules drove off slowly. As the Jeep was going down the driveway, Jules said, “Last night, at seven, I spotted an old man on the road, near the south-east vines. A prowler, no doubt. …”
    Aurélien burst out laughing.
    “An old man? Not that old, I hope. If you keep spying on me when I come to check up on you, we’ll be going around in circles!”
    Aurélien playfully punched his son in the ribs.
    “I like you better this way. … So, how do you think the wine is going to be?”
    “Firm, concentrated … probably rich … But the weather is going to have to hold.”
    “It will,” Aurélien said.
    “The forecasts are pretty bad.”
    “We’ll see. Let’s stop here.”
    Aurélien hopped out of the Jeep with surprising agility for a man his age. He headed for some vines to touch the grapes and smell them. He remained there for a good while, then came back to the Jeep, silent. He and Jules looked at each other.
    “Yes …” Aurélien mumbled. “We won’t do too well if there’s a bad storm.”
    They went from hill to hill, stopping ten times, leaning over the low vines. They forgot all about Laurène and the entire family, solely preoccupied by the stony earth they stood on and the grapes’ appearance. Quite naturally, they were experiencing one of those privileged moments when they shared everything, not having to say a word to understand each other. They had the same thoughts at the same time, noticed the same things, and came to the same conclusions. They ended their tour in the late afternoon, with a satisfaction mixed with worry at the sight of the graying sky. They’d almost reached Fonteyne’s gates when Aurélien asked Jules to go over to Antoine’s to invite him for dinner. It was a bit cavalier, given the late hour, but Aurélien had little use for convention. Jules dropped him off in front of the terrace. He was about to take off when Aurélien rapped on the Jeep’s hood.
    “Wait a sec. Let me get Laurène. She’ll help you convince her father to accept the invitation and maybe she feels like going to Mazion.”
    Aurélien went up the steps and Jules turned off the engine. He reached for his pocket to retrieve his cigarettes and lit one. He wondered what was behind Aurélien’s sudden sociability. Usually, his old man did everything he could to prevent Jules and Laurène from finding themselves together alone, doing it in spite of himself, but systematically. Amused, Jules smiled. He was attracted to Laurène just as much as Aurélien was, and it wouldn’t have been inappropriate for him to act upon it, unlike it had been for his father. If he’d refrained himself up until now, it was only to protect himself from his own attraction.
    That was because he didn’t allow himself many distractions, being too