And Many Happy Returns - 1934
"Bonetada? Degun? -- Ah, Mions, there you are!  I knew I'd find - who's the kid?"

Mireille turned from the clothesline strung between two trees in the yard beyond the cottage and grinned at the dark-haired young man, who had just stopped dead in the grass between her and the gravel path to town.  She lifted the small boy who was clinging to her skirt and closed the distance between them.  "This is my son, Stephane.  Say hello to Monsenh Marie-Pierre, Stephane."

The boy briefly hid his face in his mother's neck, but, overcome by curiosity, he soon sat back up to peer at the stranger.  "Hello."

"You have a kid," said Marie-Pierre blankly.

"I'm glad to see the English beer hasn't rotted your brains out."

"I didn't even know you were pregnant."

"These things happen when you're gone for four years, Pierrot."

"How old is he?"

"Three."

"Three and a half," the boy corrected her.

"So he's - "

"He's named for my husband's father.  You remember old Monsenh Tréfaud, don't you?  You must - you were - "

"Mions - "

" - the terror of the neighbourhood; I can't think how many times he must have had to chase you out of his orchard - "

"Mions - "

"He passed on just before Stephane was born, God rest him - "

"Mions."

"Pierrot."

"I am trying to ask you a question."

"And I am not letting you."

"Yes, I sort of figured that out."

"Stephane, go inside and tell your father we have company."  She set the boy down and patted him on the bottom to start him off toward the house.

"Mions - is he?"

"He's still dreaming of that restaurant in Paris.  We're thinking of moving back soon."

"You're not answering what I'm asking."

Mireille placed her hands on Marie-Pierre's shoulders, tilted up on her toes, and kissed him.  "And I have no intention to."  She dropped back down and whirled toward the house, leaving him standing in the yard.

"Women are the most infuriating creatures on God's earth and you are the most infuriating of all of them!" he cried after her.

"Dinner's at nine.  I'll make that thing with the sausage you like so much.  Say hello to your tanta and oncle for me!"

"Mions - !"

Marie-Pierre slowly crumpled his twill cap in one hand and turned back up the lane toward his childhood home.

--

"Bertrat is a good husband and a wonderful father," Mireille told him that night, in private.  "And he is dependable.  I think we can both agree - "

"Dependable I'm not," Marie-Pierre acknowledged with a tight smile that made Mireille shake her head, fondly trailing a finger across his lips.

"I would hate it if you started to be, Pierrot.  Stay dashing, quick-witted, never boring - "

" - ever-susceptible to your flattery - "

"That too."

"Infuriating creature."

"Rascal."

"That's my charm."

"Oh, quite.  But we both agree - you'd be a terrible husband."

"Much better as a cuckold, then?"

"Two-timing suits you."

"You know me far too well."