Abigail strolled through the early evening rain shower slowly under her umbrella. The only sign of discomfort on her face from it was the very slight crease in her eyebrow.
"I left that bloody godforsaken rainy isle and the weather only follows me. Just my luck…"
Her bright red (childish) rain boots walked through the large puddles with practiced ease and her umbrella tilted expertly whenever a particularly strong gust of wind blew. Her fiancé's large double breasted raincoat flapped around her, wetting her white opaque stockings and the hem of her dark red skirt that peaked out whenever the coat was blown aside. She watched everyone rush past her disinterestedly and turned down an alley, making sure to check behind her often so that no one followed her.
Passing a crouched figure next to a large dumpster, she slowed down as the body whimpered. "Umm…Pardon me but are you feeling alright?" A slender hand with strangely clean fingernails made a slight shooing motion at her as they let out another groan.
"I shall be fine young mademoiselle. Have a nice night…"
Coming to a full stop at the voice- a small female's with a slight rasp- she turned back. "Miss…?" doubling back she knelt towards the figure, a young woman she was guessing, and saw that she was huddled under a black tarp. "Miss, I really do not think you should stay out here in the rain. Come in and you can call someone to get you." Ignoring the small protests the woman was giving her she hauled her up and started pulling her in the direction she was heading.
Towards the middle of the building she was walking towards a door opened, spilling the sounds and smells of a restaurant into the quiet alleyway. A tall blond man in a chef's outfit leaned out smiling at her and waved her in out of the rain.
"Mon amour- oh? A…guest?"
Avoiding the kiss that was aimed at her on reflex, Abigail roamed into the back of the restaurant pulling the female with her. Handing her closed umbrella and the coat to Francis she kicked off her boots and slipped on a pair of flats. After telling the woman to take a seat near the heat of the stoves to warm up she followed Francis through the kitchen, saying hello to the workers who recognized her, and into the back room where the books were kept. Catching a thick postal envelope that was tossed at her she ripped it open unhurriedly. Scanning the thick paper she tipped the envelope and a set of small silver keys fell into her hand. Passing the letter to the Frenchman she crossed the room and placed the keys inside a small safe built into the desk.
"Did you even read the letter in full?"
"He sent me the keys for the deposit box, that's all I care about. Besides, all the rest of the letter is are pleas for me to go back to the estate."
"Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Want to go back?"
Abigail huffed and rolled her eyes. Standing up in the tips of her toes, she kissed Francis full on the mouth smiling. Stepping back, she held his face in her hands and smirked. "You can't get rid of me that easily. Now come. I want to check on the girl." Locking the office behind them, Alice let Francis loop their arms together and lead them back down the hall to the hustle and bustle of the kitchens.
"You have a habit of finding strays in distress, mon lapin. First that brutish police officer and his wild wife, then those two street urchins a couple of blocks over, now her…Where did you find her anyways?"
"In the alley."
"The alley?"
"You should want to help her. She's French, I think. Or some type of French-speaking."
Francis sent a long glance down at Abigail and tugged on one of her long blonde ponytails to convey his unhappiness at her. Every single time he turned around, she was dragging in another stray. A couple of months after they settled in their new home he awoke to find her serving breakfast to a bandaged up police cadet and his new wife. A few weeks after that she brought young three street kids into the restaurant and gave them lunch and dinner. Now he couldn't get rid of them even if he wanted to. The two eldest of the three were a boy and girl, runaways probably, and they had found the third, another boy, roaming the streets. Sighing, he figured that there was little he could do to curb her caring nature.
When they reached the kitchens, they saw that one of their head cooks was trying to get the young woman's wet poor excuse of a coat off and a warm bowl of soup into her lap. They stood to the side smiling to themselves as Yao fussed at wet woman and finally succeeded in getting a spoonful of soup into her mouth. They could see that she was torn between wanting to eat and wanting to get away from the energetic Chinese male so they decided to make it easier for her.
"Maybe she would be more inclined to eat if she didn't have a dragon breathing down her neck, Yao?"
"Maybe she would be more inclined to eat if she wasn't huddled in that pitful wet rag, Abigail?"
Letting his fiancée and his favourite cook go at it Francis went over to the woman and handed her the bowl of soup. "Ici,manger.Vous avez l'airaffamé" (Fr: Here, eat. You look hungry.)
"…Je vous remerci, monsieur."
"So you do speak French then…English also?"
"Yes, sir."
He watched her devour the soup and handed her a piece of bread when it came out of the oven to sop up the last bits. Francis held small talk with her and found out small things. After she finished eating, he asked if she had anyone she was able to call or come pick her up. When she told him she didn't he made his decision there. Smiling at her, Francis ruffled her dirty, matted black hair and whistled to get Abigail and Yao's attention. "Now, this young lady's name is…"
"…Madeline…"
"and Abigail and myself will be taking her home to get cleaned up while we find a way to help her. Abby, get your coat. Yao, I trust you can hold things down until closing? Bon."
Ignoring both Yao and Madeline's protests, Abigail bundled her up in a spare coat and out of the restaurant while Francis hustled her into their car in the parking lot when they came out. The car ride was blessedly short and when they reached their small house, they rushed her in out of the rain and into the bath telling her to take as long as she wanted. Abigail bustled around putting the kettle to boil while Francis started taking out things to cook for dinner. They worked in silence until they heard the tap running. Only then did Francis tug Abigail's pigtail again.
"Oh stop it. I couldn't just leave her there in the gutter."
"We cannot keep taking in everything you feel sorry for, mon amour."
"She's just a little girl Francis…no older than I was when you stole me away…and look at how she wolfed down that soup. When was the last time you think she got a proper meal? And those rags…"
"Still, Abigail—"
"She just needs some help. Everyone needs some help once in a while…"
Francis just tugged her hair again before he continued to cook. "Did you give her some clothes to change into? I want whatever she was wearing to be burned at soon as possible." Abigail told him that she gave her one of her sweatpants and one of the sweatshirts the young police officer's wife left behind. They worked side by side in silence and the only interjection was when Abigail asked which tea Francis wanted her to brew.
Madeline finally came downstairs as Francis was placing the food on the table. Knocking on the doorframe, she hid slightly behind it partly in the hallway. It took much coaxing in French from Francis to lure her towards the table. "Oh…no wonder you were hungry…" Madeline hair hung down to her waist in soft brunette waves now that it was no longer black and matted and thin wire frame glasses hung in-front of her large, violet eyes. Her hands fidgeted on a small just there bump in front of her that pulled slightly at the sweatshirt. "How far…?"
"Quatre mois, monsieur…"
"You are far too small to be only four months, darling. Why, when my sister-in-law was entering her fourth month, she was just starting to waddle all over the place like a duck. How long have you been out on the streets?"
"…Cinq ans…"
Abigail saw a pained look flash over Francis face and held his hand under the table. They both watched Madeline clear her plate and both of theirs when they slid it over to her. Slipping her a cup of tea, Abigail stood to move the plates to the sink. Leaving Francis to talk to Madeline gently in French she couldn't help but cast a glance or two back at her. For someone finishing her first trimester she was much too small. Running off all the ways she could fatten her up she decided to give her brother's wife a call when she found the time. A small giggle turned her attention back to the table and she smiled at the two. Francis seemed to be telling her a story of some sort half in French and half in English. Madeline tried keeping her giggles in but failed as they came spilling out of her.
"Madeline, darling, how old are you?"
"I turned seventeen this past winter, madam."
"Seventeen? Why, I feel like a old lady around such a young thing as yourself. I'll be twenty-one this spring. That foolish man making you laugh will be the oldest of us three at twenty-four in the summer. Where are you from? We just ran away together not too long ago from Europe."
"The Northern Canadian Territories, madam."
"Well, you've come a long ways from there. And stop with all this 'madam' silliness. Didn't you address me as a mademoiselle earlier?" Abigail flashed her a smile and wink as Madeline chuckled to herself before agreeing. "I'm Abigail Kirkland and that's my foolish fiancé Francis Bonnefoy."
"Madeline…Williams…"
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madeline. There is a spare bedroom upstairs you can retire to when you get tired. And –well, you can stop that silly protesting right there and now young lady- the kettle is still full and hot in-case you want another cuppa before the night is out. I'll find some bigger shirts until I am able to go out and pick up some proper maternity wear for you. Also,—are you crying? Why on Earth are you crying?"
Francis took out a handkerchief and moved besides Madeline to wipe her tears while she hiccupped quietly. Rubbing her back, he let her sob out her thanks before she fled out the kitchen and up the stairs. Abigail stood where she was at the kitchen sink and wiped her hands on a dishtowel with a frown on her face.
"Why on Earth was she crying?"
"Sometimes, all you need is just an act of kindness in a hard time."
Despite her protests and attempts at leaving, Madeline quickly fell into life around the Kirkland-Bonnefoy household. Some days she helped Abigail at her bookstore and others she helped out in Francis restaurant after he found she was a very good cook. Gone was her half-starved look and in its place was a warm smiling face. She made fast friends with the wife of the police office Abigail patched up and the small kids that Abigail still dragged in for a face scrubbing and a meal.
She held soft conversations with Francis in French while strengthening her English by reading with Abigail in the evenings. She reminded Abigail of the children she used to watch back home and it saddened her. How Madeline should be with her own parents back where ever her home was, getting ready for prom, enjoying her senior year in high school, getting ready for uni in the fall. Not picking out maternity dresses instead of prom dresses or looking at baby furniture instead of things to fill her dorm with.
From what she was able to ply out of her, Madeline had been living on the streets since she ran away when she was eleven and the night that her and Francis dragged her home with them was the first time she had a real bath in nearly a year. That she fell in love with a street thug who knocked her up before being sent to prison. She learned to cook from her step-father who raised her after her mother died. She used to have a hunting dog until her step-mother poisoned it. She loved to sing and could play several instruments. She wanted to be a pianist but after her mother died so did her dreams. She loved anything maple flavoured and could even be caught using it in place of sugar in her tea. That her prized possession that she's kept with her all these years was a pair of maple leaf shaped hair clips her step-father gave her before the hunting trip that took his life.
That she even once petted a real polar bear.
She even showed the picture to Abigail and Francis. She had a small stack of faded Polaroid's that she carried around with her in a baggie. She showed them pictures of her life when her words failed her. Her much missed step-father. Her mother. Her step-mother. Her incarcerated lover and his sister. Pictures of where she lived over the years and where she wanted to go in the future.
After Francis gave Abigail's old camera she took up the hobby again and took snapshots whenever she could. Of Abigail. Of Francis. Of the workers in the restaurant. Of Monika and her husband Bernhard. Of the street kids; Mathias, Yekaterina and young Bernald. Of their home.
Pour montrer monbébé quand ilgrandit!
As the weather got warmer and Madeline got rounder the couple whispered together at night over how to bring certain topics up with Madeline so she wouldn't cry. Other than those times Abigail would bring up a random conversation concerning Madeline and her baby randomly during day when they were alone or whenever Francis had his mind focused someplace else.
"What do you think about turning the study into a nursery?" Francis spat his coffee over the newspaper he was reading and continued to cough as his fiancée plowed on ahead paying no attention to his spit take. "No, you're right, it's far too small. Maybe we should move house all together. Maddie said she was having boy so maybe she should go with a nice blue paint? Maybe a red? What do you think?"
"I think that moving house all together would be a good idea but we are short on time." Wiping his mouth, Francis tossed his paper into the trash with a thin look of disgust. Taking a new mug from Abigail, he sipped it slowly, thinking. "Do you think Maddie will want to stay after the babe is born?" He watched her stop her pacing on the dime and twirl her long hair between her fingers.
"…I haven't thought about that…"
"Of course you haven't, Abby…"
Francis turned around to listen upstairs if Madeline was out the shower yet before continuing. After hearing her singing along with some song on the radio in the bathroom did he feel it safe to continue. "I have been talking with Madeline…for someone so high in spirits she has a very grim outlook on her future…she requested that either we give her child up for adoption or raise it ourselves should anything happen to her—"
"Nothing is going to happen to her. She's healthy as a horse. Healthier even."
"Abigail. Listen—"
"NO, you listen Francis. Madeline is going to be fine."
"No. You listen Abigail. Look, Madeline is very small and she is not that healthy to begin with. We have both discussed this at length and while she wanted to wait until she was later in her pregnancy, I have been trying to tell you for some time now. After Monika barely survived giving birth to Gilbert this past spring, it got Maddie thinking. Monika is only a couple of years older than you yourself and Madeline is much younger than the both of you. Now if a woman such as Monika, who is in the prime of her birthing years and is far more healthier that the two of you, nearly died giving birth what kind of message do you think that sent to Madeline?"
Abigail stared at her untouched cup of tea before dropping her head into her hands. "She has to be okay. I want her to be okay. I don't want to lose her. She's so young…" She felt Francis move around her and stayed like that until he left the kitchen to get dressed for the day.
"It is childish to think you can keep every stray you find, Abby."
The move out of Francis and Abigail's small three-bedroom house into their much larger five bedroom was a very short affair. They picked a house not too far from where they were currently but far enough that Abigail complained about how she was no longer able to walk to her bookstore. It had a very Victorian Gothic look about it and Madeline laughed and said it looked like the houses she imagined in Abigail's stories. Francis said she was more excited about the house than the two of them combined. She spent the evenings sitting on the back porch talking with Francis and Bernhard when he stopped by after his beat or just talking with Monika and playing with baby Gilbert. Abigail would join them with a drink; tea for the new mother and expecting mother. She would try to help Francis cook dinner and let him fuss over her before sending her back outside to relax.
They were moved in by Memorial Day and Francis was painting the nursery before Father's Day. Madeline spent the hours she wasn't sleeping either shopping with Abigail and helping her plan her wedding to Francis. They wanted it in the garden after Francis' birthday and when Madeline was able to fit the bride's maid dress Abigail picked out for her. The farther along her pregnancy got, the more excited she finally seemed to become over it. She made a list of baby names with Francis and in the evenings, she ran them by Monika and Abigail before narrowing it down to their favourites for each gender. She wanted to run them by her boyfriend was able to with some strings pulled by Bernhard. He was more happier to hear her voice but eventually gave his opinion.
Mathieu for a boy. Mathilda for a girl.
Monika showed her how to hold Gilbert and how to get over her nervousness as her due date crept closer while telling her horror stories of labour much to Abigail's displeasure. She, with some help from Francis, showed her how to cook some of her husband's favourite dishes and how to take pictures that weren't so blurry. While they were small things she was still happy how Monika's face lit up. Everyone made sure not to leave her alone. Even Mathias and Yekaterina got in on it by keeping her company in Abigail's bookstore during the busy hours. She stayed far away from Yao who took the fussing to another level and tried to give her double helpings every time she walked through the door.
Abigail called Madeline her fiancé's duckling with how you never found her far from him. They were either cooking together, singing together, or just talking together. Madeline told her how much Francis reminded her of her step-father one evening when they were alone together. From his jovial attitude to the way he approached life. "It's like I found him all over again." How lucky Abigail was to have someone like Francis in her life. She told Abigail how much she missed him and how much she appreciated the couple taking her in. Even if she was hogging her fiancé during the day. Waving her thanks off like she always did, Abigail told her how she was more appreciative that Madeline was keeping him out of the wedding planning.
Madeline went into labour late in the morning of the first of July and finally gave birth to Mathieu Christiaan Williams very late that night. It was Mathias who let the whole household know by telling everyone Madeline peed herself at the top of the stairs sending all the available adults into a flurry around her. It was Bernhard and Monika who finally drove her to the hospital since they already went through the panic. Francis and Abigail might have beat them to the hospital but at least they didn't have four speeding tickets to explain. The waiting room was a sprawled out mess of street urchins, police officers, restaurant cooks, and one frantic pacing couple before Madeline requested that they join her to calm her nerves before she had passed out.
When she woke up she cried more than both Abigail and Francis combined. She had to spend a week in the hospital and cried while the doctor's pried Mathieu out of her weak grip. She cried until they took her home and she cried every time she held Mathieu after. Abigail and Francis eventually let her sleep in the nursery with him since she wound up there every night. She cried a lot in the weeks between giving birth and the wedding with a day pause because Francis only wish for his birthday was that she not shed a single tear. They let her crying slide at the wedding since everyone else was crying also.
Madeline continued to follow her normal routine after she settled in with Mathieu. She only brought up looking for her own place a couple of times but stopped after seeing the hurt look on the couple's faces. She still cooked with Francis and read with Abigail. The only change was that she now had a plus one in tow. While she wasn't allowed in the kitchens to cook in the restaurant until she got her strength back so she spent the rest of the summer either helping the hostesses or continuing helping out at the bookstore. Her evening's were still spent with Monika and Abigail on the porch soaking up the last of the long summer evenings and Bernhard always had a story to tell them when he got off work. Mathias and Yekaterina brought Bernard around on the nights with bad weather and eventually got the three to consent to being put in foster homes. Madeline had a tough time out on the streets at their age and didn't want them to end up like she did. When school started up, they stopped by the bookstore every day after class to tell them about their day before being shooed home to their foster families.
She would later tell Abigail how those where the happiest moments of her life. Being surrounded by family and feeling loved.
I guess this is the very first part to my FACE stories? More like the beginning of Mathieu's part. Daddy's Girl belonging to Mathilda and Miscommunication belonging to Alfred. I have one written for Amelia. It's been written for a good while now. I've just never typed it up.
This is the first part of Strays that focuses on Abigail and Madeline. Still deciding on whether or not to add a second chapter to this or just leave it complete. The second part is about Francis and Madeline.