Jean took the roast out of the oven and set it to rest as she spooned the potatoes and veg into their respective serving dishes. She heard the front door open and smiled. Matthew and Peter had arrived just in time.
"Dinner in five minutes," she called out to them.
"Be right there as soon as I wash my hands," Matthew called back to her.
It seemed Amy had come in with them. She entered the kitchen saying, "What can I do?"
"Just finishing the dishing up," Jean told her. "Did you get everything done?"
Amy grumped, "Yes, no thanks to the clerk at the grocer's." She launched into her tale of woe at the way she'd been treated.
Jean listened to her as she moved the roast onto its serving platter. Without thinking, she walked over to the table and set it before the head of the table, in front of what was still considered as Lucien's chair, despite the fact he had been gone for months.
Amy paused and looked at her, and it was only then that Jean realized what she had done. She murmured an apology but couldn't help the tears that welled up in her eyes as she corrected her mistake and moved the roast to Matthew's place. She willed the tears away - crying wouldn't help anything.
Matthew entered the kitchen and must have noticed something was a bit off. He looked to Jean first. She tried to shrug it off. "It's nothing, Matthew," she insisted. "I just wasn't thinking."
He turned to Amy for an explanation.
"She forgot for a minute," Amy told him, nodding toward Lucien's place.
Matthew winced slightly. He muttered, "Damn him," under his breath, but Jean heard it.
She glared at Matthew angrily. How dare he!
"What?" he said.
"You know perfectly well what."
Peter came into the kitchen and sat down, glancing from Jean to Matthew and back again, but Matthew barely paid attention, he was focused solely on Jean.
"I'll never forgive him," Matthew told her. "If he had just been satisfied with what he had here. His surgery, his job as Police Surgeon, you. But no, he had to go looking for greener pastures, bigger fish to fry."
"You know that wasn't what he was after," Jean said, her voice rising. She looked at Amy and Peter. "Lucien was the kindest, most generous person I've ever known," she told them. "He was always trying to help people. Find justice for them, no matter the cost. Matthew knows that, too."
She walked out of the kitchen and headed for the sunroom, her refuge. Standing in the midst of all her flowers she could feel Lucien's presence there. She remembered standing in just this spot after Jack had left, and realizing for the first time that she and Lucien had something special happening between them. And it was special. And she missed him every hour of every day. Crying wouldn't help anything, but sometimes it was inevitable. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stood there, missing Lucien.
When she heard a step behind her, she knew who it was. She reached up a hand to wipe away the tears despite knowing Matthew would still see their trails on her cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Jean," he said softly. "Are you all right?"
She nodded before turning to face him. "I know you miss him, too. You say those things about him because you're still hurting. I understand that when you talk about Lucien to Alice and me. We knew him, and I know you don't mean what you say. But Amy and Peter didn't know him. When you say things like that about him in front of them, they're going to think that's what he was, but he wasn't. He was a good man, Matthew. You know that."
"Yes, he was. You're right. I'm just so angry about it. All of it." He hung his head.
Jean took a step toward him and rested a hand on his arm. "It isn't your fault. Not what happened and not that he was never found."
"I know that," Matthew sighed. "But I still feel like somehow I failed both of you."
She smiled sadly. "You know he would hate that."
"Yes, I know. He was the only one allowed to feel guilty." He managed to return her smile, even though she could tell it was forced. "Now, what do you say we both go back in to dinner and tell those young people some true stories about Lucien so they'll know what he was really like? God knows there are plenty to tell."
"Yes, let's," Jean agreed. "And after dinner we'll open a bottle of his scotch and toast him."
"I think he'd like that," said Matthew. He held the door for her as they went inside.