Alphabet Blocks- Belle and Maurice

...

"Papa, could you spare a few pieces of scrap wood?" Belle asked her father.

"I don't suppose you plan to build something for a surprise for your Papa, do you?" Maurice replied, looking up from his workshop table.

"I can't tell you what I plan to give you for Christmas, or else I will ruin the surprise!" Belle told him with a smile on her lips. She had chosen Papa's gift already; a new set of carving knives from M. Norbert, the merchant who sold cutlery at the marketplace. "Right now, I plan to make a gift for someone else in town."

"Is that so?" Maurice asked. "Then I am glad to assist, my Belle. Help yourself to all the scrap wood you would like."

Belle gathered some of pieces of wood and sat at the workshop table next to her father, cutting into the pieces with a small saw. She soon created several little blocks. Maurice noticed her frustrated expression as she was trying to make every block uniform in shape and size.

"I can help you with that, my dear."

"Merci, Papa. I want to make twenty-six of them."

Maurice took his own whittling knife and saw and helped her cut the blocks to uniform sizes. "What is this gift you are making?" he asked her curiously.

"Alphabet blocks," said Belle. "For Gabrielle. I drew her name in the church's secret Christmas exchange. She's the little girl who wanted to learn to read. I thought I could make them for her to spell words. She could also share them with her little sister. When they are cut and sanded, I'd like to paint letters on each side of all of them."

"Wonderful idea, my Belle. And so reminiscent of your mother! She also loved to paint things and give them to children, while we were courting. It was then that I knew that I wanted her to be the mother of my future child."

"Really?" Belle's eyes went wide. She treasured each and every little anecdote about her Maman that Maurice was willing to share. For years he spoke little of her, but lately, he was much more likely to open up about those memories.

"What kinds of things would she paint?" Belle asked her father.

"Cats," Maurice replied. "When we married, I got her a kitten she named Celie. A little calico. She loved to sketch her with her pencil whenever she had the chance. She often dabbled in artwork on the front staircase of our old home in Paris, and children would watch her. So she'd gladly draw some of the portraits of Celie, and give them away."

"Whatever happened to Celie?"

"One day she ran away and never came back. Your Maman was devastated. It was around the time she was expecting you," Maurice said sadly.

Belle was quiet for awhile, thinking about yet another aspect of her mother's life, the mother she had never had the joy of knowing. For the next few hours, Belle sanded the alphabet blocks, and then painted letters on them with bright colored paint.

...

The next morning was the twenty fourth of December, Christmas Eve Day. Belle had taken the blocks she had made and put them in a wicker basket, tied with a red ribbon. She donned her new blue and red Christmas dress and red shawl, and decided to take her little gift directly to Gabrielle's parents' home.

It was a lovely, sunny midwinter day in Villeneuve. The streets were a little slippery from slushy snow, and as wagons and carts rolled by, their wheels threw drops of melting slush that people darted to avoid. Belle stopped to listen as a group of carolers sang near the fountain in the town square. Among the little group of carolers was Pere Robert, the clergyman and the kindest man Belle knew in the village. He sang in a rich baritone, his voice leading the others.

Also in the choir were Jean Potts the potter, Madame Bordeaux the tavern keeper's wife, Madame Rubans the ribbon seller, Tom the blacksmith, and the bow-tied younger fellow- LaRue? Lemeiux? Belle didn't remember his name, but she knew him to be Gaston Legume's constant companion. She glanced around quickly and saw that Gaston was nowhere to be found. She breathed a sigh of relief, enjoying the lovely display of vocal music. Besides Pere Robert's deep voice, Madame Rubans had the loveliest soprano, and Gaston's friend's bright tenor hit the same high notes as the ladies' voices.

After listening to two songs, Belle took a few tiny coins from the pocket of her dress and placed it into the money basket, sitting in the snow beside Pere Robert.

"Merci, Mademoiselle! Joyeux Noel, and God bless you!" Pere Robert said with a wide smile.

"Joyeux Noel to all of you!" Belle replied.

The carolers took a break from singing. As Belle walked away, she heard one of the men, Tom the blacksmith, say to one of the others, "Surprised she's not running around with 'er nose in a book today."

"I declare! She's beyond odd!" a lady said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Belle quickened her steps and walked away briskly, swinging her basket bearing Gabrielle's Christmas gift. She was not going to let people's narrow-minded criticism get her down.

She found the Valois family's cottage quickly, a small two story. The Valois' lived in the bottom floor, and their door was decorated with one of the red ribbons that Madame Rubans had been selling. Since the gift exchange was secret, Belle decided to give a quick knock on the door, set the basket on the step, and dart away. She joined the crowd of busy villagers, standing near the baker's stand.

She watched as Madame Valois opened the door, with Gabrielle behind her. They gathered the basket and closed the door. Belle felt a warm feeling in her heart, a swell of Christmas cheer as she walked back home.

"Hello Papa!" she greeted Maurice, still busy carving a music box at his work table.

"Just in time, ma petite. I finally got the notes to work! Listen!" Maurice turned the crank and played the melody. The newest music box played Bring a Torch, Jeanette Isabella. It featured a tiny figure of a girl ice skating.

"It's wonderful, Papa! Who are you going to give it to?"

"I don't know, Belle. I had planned to sell it, but if it doesn't sell here in Villeneuve, perhaps it will be yours," said Maurice. "And by the way, there is something- or someone- else who just arrived a few minutes ago. Look in your room upstairs." He grinned.

"Someone? Please don't let it be Monsieur Gaston Legume," Belle replied, making a face of dread.

"I assure you it isn't," said Maurice. "Someone much smaller."

Belle rushed upstairs to her bedroom. She heard a tiny little 'meow' sound, and her heart leaped with joy.

"A kitten?"

The little grey cat rushed to Belle's ankles, rubbing against her feet. Belle picked it up. "Hello, there!" she greeted. Someone had brought the kitten to Belle to be her gift for the exchange.

She wondered who it could have been. She recalled that Pere Robert had a grey female cat in the chapel, and she had looked to be expecting a litter. It could have been him, but she knew that the giver had to be kept a secret.

Belle took the soft kitten in her arms and went downstairs to Maurice. "I wish I could thank the person who brought me this kitten! Now, is it a boy...or a girl?" she wondered aloud.

"I don't know," said Maurice. "Perhaps just give your new pet a name suitable for both genders."

"It's light grey," said Belle. "Perhaps I could call it 'Fumée.' It is a smoky color."

"Sounds good to me," said Maurice with a smile. "Now, I think I'll be done with my work for the day. How about we cook up that goose and potatoes together?"

"Sounds wonderful, Papa!" exclaimed Belle. "You and I will have the coziest Christmas Eve, just you and me, and Fumée, of course. I purchased a nice loaf of bread when I was out. And a few chocolates!"

"Merci, Belle. We will indeed have the best Christmas!" Maurice gathered his daughter, still holding her new kitten, in his arms.

...

A.N. This was a gift fic I had written for someone on Tumblr, and for the members of Bittersweet and Strange, a Beauty and the Beast fan forum. Happy Holidays! :)