24Friday was a more typical late October day, with a light rain off and on, and sweater rather than coat weather. Constance sped down rue des Chênes on her bicycle, feeling a little proud that Molly had given her the job of welcoming the first guest at La Baraque in weeks.
“Molls!” she said, her cheeks flushed, when Molly opened the door. “Have you written down all my instructions? I don’t want to mess this up!”
“You won’t, don’t worry,” said Molly, suddenly filled with anxiety at all the things that could go wrong. It was Constance, after all. “There’s really not much to do. It’s a couple coming in from New York. They’re renting a car so they’ll be getting here that way and won’t need picking up at the station or anything. They’ve got directions and probably a GPS in the car. All you ha
