Sometime ago I posted a, what would DBM look like in 2017 ? Seven-Dragons offered a vivid and thoughtful reply which in turn got me to thinking. As an American I do not have a grasp on the colloquiums that gives the storytelling its authenticity. I have inserted a phrase here and there, but clearly it is nothing like what one could expect from a European. My apologies. With Seven-Dragons permission I offer my version of DBM 2017.
I don't own these characters. I'm only borrowing them. This is my take on Jean, Lucien and the citizens of Ballarat in 2017
I think of this as prequel 1 of S1 E1. How and why did Lucien settle in Ballarat. Who were the men and mentors in Jean's life before Lucien? And most importantly why did Jean decide to stay at Blake House.
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DBM 2017
"I appreciate you more because of the road I've traveled. My story brought me to you, and I wouldn't revise a single word of my past if it led me anywhere but to your door."
-Aaron Polson
Chapter 1
Jean was letting go. Five years of this and she was just getting to the place where she could begin to let go… of the day, her thoughts, her past, and feel safe. Safe, and at peace. Jean only felt this way in three places, her home, her garden and here. And he had invaded it. He took her home and now this place too? She had to remind herself It wasn't hers, it never had been. She had made the mistake of forgetting that. Jean had been there so long, putting her mark on it that it felt like her home. So, so very good to be there.
Guests and patients came to the house, made their way to the waiting room, walked down the hallway into the kitchen or the living room, looked around and would say, "This place is so peaceful." Brows furrowed, eyes squinting looking for "the thing" that made it so, they'd turn in complete circles and say, "It's so peaceful". And then look at Jean for the answer; as if she would or could tie it up in a bow and give it to them; the solution they could take home and make their own. Jean was always stymied by this statement. How were they supposed to feel when they walked into her home? Eventually after having visited enough homes of friends, acquaintances and neighbors she began to understand that "peace" was not in every home. It was in hers. Her home was her refuge. Mattie understood what Jean had done. Often Mattie and Jean would be at tea with one or another of Dr. Thomas Blake's patients, with a quizzical look on their face the visitor would state to Mattie what was for the two women the obvious; how peaceful this place was. Jean would smile as Mattie agreed with the speaker. Nothing more.
Quite by chance Mattie found a token of love and friendship perfect for Jean. She placed it where it would be easily found, although it was breaking Jean's rule of clutter in the house. Mattie put it on the fridge. A magnet. Just a reminder of what was true. The small 3X5 square read:
"PEACE." It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart."
-Unknown
The next morning Jean found it. She swung around from the thing giving Mattie her mock glare and raised an eyebrow. "Is this your doing?" she asked the young woman.
"Yes, and I know the rule but, this really needs to stay where it is Jean. I don't know how you do it, but this truly is a peaceful place. I think it's you."
Jean rolled her eyes at the pre-med student and continued to pour the tea. "Mattie" the older woman protested in her sing song way.
"It's true and I'm more than happy to be here. Although I think our recent resident is making it somewhat difficult" Changing the subject or just escaping the mock wrath Mattie stated her intentions. "Off I go." she said pouring the tea in her 'to go cup' "I don't want to be late for my class. Don't forget, you promised to help me with my physics and chemistry assignments this evening."
"Mattie, I'm not much good to you I didn't even finish college."
"You could have fooled me Jean. When you review the material with me I get it. Sometimes I just don't know what they're talking about. You promised."
"Yes, I promised." Jean gave a happy sigh, wished her young friend a good day and reminded her that she would find dinner in the fridge. A few minutes in the microwave is all it would need. "I pulled a short shift." Jean told her. "I'm at the restaurant tonight until 6:30 then my yoga class. I'll take a look at your work when I get in."
And now he was sitting on the bench in the hallway of the yoga class, hands on knees, shaggy head down, overgrown beard sprouting out of his face and neck. Quite possibly scaring the hell out of everyone who came by to drop shoes and hang up bags. He had come back. His presence made it clear that it had not and never would be her home. His first footfall over the threshold made it his again, so she retreated to her bedroom. The house was his, but this yoga studio was hers and what was he doing here?
He had come home as his father had requested. At Dr. Thomas Blake's appeal, Jean did one internet search after another until she was finally able to locate and get him to come home to see his father before he died.
She admitted to herself that she needed this man at the house, but not the studio. The senior doctor Blake hired Jean as his part time receptionist and office manager. Ten years had passed and things were going well for Jean. Between work at the restaurant and the doctor she was meeting her bills and beginning to save a little too. For a while. When Thomas' health began to deteriorate, she moved in to look after him and keep the work going. That worked for a while. As the doctor's health declined Jean had to rethink the situation. The doctor mortgaged the house to pay for his medical expenses. How ironic was that Jean thought.
But he couldn't keep up with the demanding patient roster so Jean talked him into reducing the number of patients and taking in roommates. Thomas called them boarders. She promised him they would be the kind of boarders he would approve. First came Mattie O'Brien, a pre-med student at Federal University, Ballarat. A young lady from a well-respected family in Melbourne. Doctor Thomas Blake was smitten with the young woman and Jean was relieved. There was a little space between the bills coming in and they payments going out. She could breathe.
And then she lost him. Doctor Blake Sr, the stern, older gentleman who she knew loved her like a daughter and she him, was gone. Sadly, Jean told herself she would have to accept the inevitable and leave the home she made for Thomas, Mattie and herself.
Sometime after the funeral Jean thoughts turned to the possibility of staying and making it work. Lucien would have to step up and do his part. That was if he was going to stay. "Not too soon she told herself. Don't approach him yet. He's grieving. Or he should be anyway." She was.
The only problem was that two months in and he wasn't really making any moves. He hadn't made a contribution, nor was he talking about making one. He was drinking, day and night, popping pills, she was sure, and when everyone one was out of the house knocking out a good day's work, he was sleeping. She was certain of that. How was this going to help them keep their heads above water? It wasn't. Before the month was out Jean was going to sit him down and get a better idea of his plans, but not just yet.
And here he was sitting in the hallway of her yoga class. She stood before him. Finally, he lifted his shaggy head. "Jean, I need your help. I need to use your mobile. I've looked, there isn't a working landline in the house and I've got a call coming in." His eyes seemed to shine with, what was it, excitement, energy, need?
"My mobile. Are you serious Lucien? You don't have a mobile? How do you communicate with people? How do you keep in touch? Everyone has a mobile. Primary school children have mobiles. You don't have a mobile?" She was incredulous.
"No Jean I don't. I haven't really wanted to be in communication with people so, no. I don't have one and I only need to use yours for a short time. I've been offered a job and it's a telephone interview tonight at ten."
"Ten, ten o'clock tonight? Youhave a phone interview at that time of the evening? How did you manage that?" "A job interview Jean thought. Is he leaving. Where's he going? I haven't yet had the chance to convince him to stay. Her thoughts rushed in and crushed her brain. Headache. The peaceful, relaxed feeling she worked to acquire over the last hour and half had evaporated. Suddenly she was weary. Whether by the presence of Lucien Blake or his revealing his job prospects she did not know. But the good, relaxed, peaceful sensation had escaped her and she was left with another problem.
People were looking. "Let's go home Lucien." She dropped the mat in her bag. He reached around putting her cozy sweater on her shoulders as she shrugged it on. That's what he thought every time he saw her in it. Every morning and evening when she was up making breakfast or in the evenings dashing around the house hugging the sweater to herself while closing windows and bringing in a potted plant. Jean and her cozy sweater. It was an unexpected move and for a moment she was put off balance. She reached to button it but his hands were already there.
"Just the top button, right?"
She lifted her eyes. Now he looked shy. Who was this other man?
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She wanted to look into his eyes, to see him, but he was gone. "Lucien, are we walking or running home? Granted I didn't get my jog in today, but this class has taken a lot out of me. Can you slow down, please?"
"Yes Jean, right. Sorry. I wanted to warm up the car for you." He kept walking.
"You have your father's car? She asked. I thought that old thing wasn't running today."
He looked back at her. "I got Danny to look under the bonnet. He's rather good around cars. He tells me Mercedes, the older ones are his specialty. He says if I can keep it running, in a few years it will be a collector's item. Maybe I can sell it then for some money. Help out some more."
"Help out some more." she thought. "You haven't helped at all." Lucien approached the car.
"Here we go." He went to the passenger's side, took her bag, opening the door waiting for her to get in.
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Reaching in her yoga bag Jean pulled out her mobile. She tapped in her four-digit password, changing the ringtone from silent to sound. Placing the mobile on the kitchen table next to his tea cup and turning to walk away she said, "I'll leave you to it. Although I don't know how they got my number."
"Jean, Don't go." He said. "I'd like you to stay. And put it on speaker, would you? I'd like you to listen in and maybe take notes."
Lifting a brow and turning an ear to his request she said, "Take notes?"
"Yes Jean, you're good at this. Maybe you can have me ask a question I might miss. And I gave them your number. I memorized it. You emailed it to me, when you contacted me about dad. I just hadn't forgotten it."
Jean slid into the seat across from him. Back straight, hands folded on the table she asked, "What's the position?"
Looking up at the ceiling, then into his teacup he spoke. "They want me to teach an online course at The Melbourne Medical School. I could do it from anywhere, as long as I have a computer."
"Oh God," Jean thought. "He could do it from anywhere and I'm going to help him go. What is wrong with this picture?" Speaking in what she hoped was a quiet measured tone she took a breath and spoke, "You don't have a computer Lucien. You don't even have a mobile. Had that occurred to you?"
"Well, uh, yes. Err, um, I thought I would ask you if I could go on your mobile plan."
Her eyes widened. "What! You want me to buy you a mobile and pay for you to go off to God knows where to do God knows what! Are you mad?"
"Jean, no! I'll buy the mobile. I was hoping you would add me to your plan. I would pay you from my teaching position and after the first check I would buy a laptop and then Wi-Fi we could all share. I was even thinking we could connect a landline phone to Wi-Fi. For you know, a house phone."
She was looking at him present his plan but it still wasn't crystal clear from where him was going with all this. She needed to close in on where he intended to settle. "So what you're saying is.." Slowly she hunched her shoulders up and down and waited for him to speak.
"I want to see if we can make it here. I mean me, well us." Jean closed her eyes. "Well Jean, I mean all of us, you, me, Mattie and I asked Danny if he wanted to take a room. I told him it had to go through you because you run the house. I mean he's your nephew, but if you say "No" then it's "No"."
"I run the house." she repeated.
"Yes, Jean. You must think me a regular bludger. I know it looks like all I do is drink, sleep and eat pills, and I do, I mean I have, but being here I've felt," in an attempt to collect his thoughts Lucien stopped mid-sentence. He lowered his head and looked up at her in a pleading sort of way. "It's been, peaceful." His hand fluttered to the crown of his head to smooth down an errant lock of hair. A move Jean would later learn was an indication of a vulnerable moment for this man. "I just don't want to leave it yet; to let it go. So, if you're okay with it, I'd like to stay."
Jean's hand flew to just over her heart. "This is your home Lucien."
Eyes closed, hands a flutter, head down, he continued. "Maybe you could continue to do for me what you did for dad. I just think it's best if you do what you do. I can't say I know what all it is but, it seems to be working. Maybe you could tell me more about it later."
She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Mmm." Keeping her own council Jean looked at her new roommate, boarder, employer. Acknowledging his request with a nod she found her voice. "Riiight" slid from her lips.
The mobile rang.