"Etienne?" Simonne called as she opened the door. "We are here!"
"Bon!" came the call from the kitchen. "Come in! Be comfortable! I will be zere soon."
Simonne ushered the Harrows in, and took their coats, hanging them on the rack behind the door, along with her own.
"Please, sit," Simonne said. Emma tentatively sat on the edge of the plush sofa. Richard waited for Simonne to sit in a chair across the coffee table, then sat beside his sister.
"I am very glad both of you came," Simonne said, smiling at them both. "And I hope, by the time you leave, you will both be glad you came, too." Emma and Richard shared a look that led to a small smile on their parts. Before either of them could say anything, a heavy thudding sounded in the hallway, approaching the living room.
"Bienvenue, mes amis!" Richard and Emma stood to greet their host.
"Mademoiselle Air-oh," Etienne said as he took Emma's hand and kissed the back of it. "Simonne ne m'a pas dit que vous étiez si charmant." Emma felt herself blushing despite not knowing what he had just said.
"Thank you for having us, Mr. Delacroix," she managed to get out.
"S'il vous plait, you must call me Etienne," he insisted. "We are all friends here, oui?"
"I believe we are," Emma said as a girlish grin spread across her face. Etienne smiled at her and then turned to Richard.
"And you, I have heard so much about you zat I feel as if I have known you my whole life, so I will skip straight to calling you Richard," he said as he shook Richard's hand.
"Nice to, mm. Meet you...Etienne," Richard replied. Simonne was right, Etienne was a lot like her, same easy manner, utter lack of formality, and a quick smile. Without their realizing it, Etienne had led them into the dining room while he discussed what he had made for dinner. Etienne held a chair at the table out for Emma, they had easily fallen into a conversation about fresh cream and when Etienne discovered Emma could churn butter, he began questioning her relentlessly on the topic. Richard pulled a chair out for Simonne, then took a seat beside her. For dinner, Etienne had thrown together some chicken, vegetables, and rice in a cream sauce, with a slightly sweet red wine. Emma looked at the glass of wine uncomfortably.
"Oh! Je m'excuse, ma chérie!" Etienne said. "You do not drink. Une minute, s'il vous plait. I will get for you some water."
"No, it's not that," Emma said. "But isn't it..." She broke off, then gave a small laugh. "I'm sorry. For a moment, I forgot we're in a country that hasn't made alcohol illegal."
"Alcohol is illegal in Amérique?" Simonne asked, her eyes mockingly wide. "You could not tell zis at ze parties we attended." The look on her face was silly, and no one could keep a straight face at her sarcastic tone, least of all Richard, who had helped to get the liquor to some of those parties.
Not that anyone at the table needed to know that.
Etienne raised his glass for a toast. "To new friends," he said, nodding at Emma. "To sisters who will always give zeir love and support," this, with a nod to Simonne. "And to brothers, who always give zeir spirit and strength," he finished with a nod to Richard. Glasses clinked together as the toast was echoed, and each took a sip (Richard had found a straw waiting for him next to his fork. The thoughtfulness touched him) of wine.
Dinner was delicious, the wine flowed freely, and soon stories were being told.
"Emma," Richard said to his sister, who's cheeks had taken on a slight flush from the wine. "Do you...remember when, mm. Dad..took us fishing the first time. And all, you managed. To catch was the maple tree, mm. The truck, and me?"
"Oh! That was a horrible day! You see," she said to Simonne and Etienne. "Dad was teaching us to cast, and while Richard got it right off the bat, I didn't have as much luck at first. Like Richard said, I managed to snag a tree, then the fender of the truck, and on my third cast..."
"She ended up, mm. Catching me with. The hook, here, mm" he said, rubbing a spot on his head, slightly on the right side, and just a hair back of, the crown.
"Of course, I had no idea what I was caught on, so I gave as big a tug as I could," Emma said. "And all of a sudden, Richard is screaming bloody murder..."
"Because it, mm. Felt like you. Were scalping me."
"Which is exactly what Mom accused me of trying to do, when we got home and she first saw all the blood..."
"Mm, right before she. Told Dad he...didn't have the sense. God gave a rock. Since, mm...he didn't think. To try to remove the hook. Or cut the line..."
"Or take the pole from me."
"Mom puts me, mm. Up on a stool, and tries to, mm. Pull the hook out..."
"But she's so distraught that her boy is bleeding all over the kitchen that she's not being very gentle. Poor Richard is holding onto the stool for dear life, this look of agony on his face, and he keeps saying 'Leave it in, Mom. Just leave it in. It'll fall out..."
"Mom gave, mm. One last tug. And that was. Were I fainted."
"And that's when Mom decided I should learn how to stitch shallow head wounds," Emma said, wiping tears from her eyes from laughing so hard.
Simonne sat back with a smile on her face as she watched Richard and Emma tell their story, pleased with the ease with which the Harrow twins were able to flow to conversation together, instantly picking up the other's train of thought. She couldn't help but be pleased with herself for reuniting the two. She knew it was something they both wanted, but neither of them knew how to go about it...Emma didn't know where Richard was, and Richard was afraid that either Emma harbored resentment, or he would look at her and still feel nothing.
Simonne had more faith than that, and with Etienne's help had managed to get them both across the ocean. They couldn't risk having Emma and Richard on the same steamer over...it would have ruined the surprise if they had run into each other on the ship! So it took quite a lot of planning to find two ships that were leaving at roughly the same time so both Harrows would arrive just in time to check into their hotels (separate, again...Simonne could easily picture the twins trying to hail the same cab to the Opera house) change, and get to the Opera house in time for the performance.
But it had worked out well, if Richard and Emma weren't as close as they had been as children, at least there was still enough of the bond there that they were able to converse, and laugh, and share looks that spoke volumes to only them. They might never get back what they had once had, Simonne knew, but she also knew that they needed whatever they did end up with.
A slight lull in the conversation prompted Simonne to stand and gather up the dirty dishes, Emma offering to help. Once the ladies had stepped out of the room, Etienne regarded Richard warmly as he refilled their wine glasses.
"Zis surprise of Simonne's, it is agreeable for you, oui?" Etienne asked, jumping into a discussion without preamble, much like his sister was wont to do.
"Mm, yes," Richard said, picking up his glass, looking at the way the light played through the wine. "Simonne always seems. To know...just what, mm. A person needs. How, mm. Does she do it?"
"Je ne sais pas, mon frere," Etienne replied with a shake of his head. "It is how she has always been. I do not think she herself knows. She has just always been able to make people happy." Etienne studied Richard for a moment, particularly the mask, and the scars, before he said "Did she give you ze 'You are alive and zat is more zan ozers can say' speech?"
"Yes," Richard said, taking a drink of his wine. "She was, mm. Right, though. And she. Made me come out of the, mm. Pool of misery. I had, mm. Been wallowing in. For years."
"When I came home, I was finding it difficult to adjust," Etienne said. "I went from one day, being in ze army, to ze next day, in l'hôpital, missing my leg, my back burnt to a crisp, and zen suddenly, I was home. Simonne gave me a week, zen marched in, told me zat I lost a leg, a little skin from my back, not my life, and I had been sitting long enough feeling sorry for myself, so it was time zat I get up, and if I did not mind too terribly, cook her breakfast." Etienne chuckled, swallowed his wine and gave a small shake of his head at the memory. "I did not feel like not feeling sorry for myself...you know zis feeling, oui? Where you zink it is not worth ze trouble to come out of ze darkness? So, I told Simonne to, as you Americans say, kiss my ass. She put her hands on her hips and said zat in order to do so, I would have to stand up first, but since I seemed disinclined to do so, she was going to make her own breakfast. Ze sound of her banging pots is what got me moving."
"You, mm, realized she was right?"
"Not at zat moment, non. I did not want her burning ze house down. Simonne is a wonderful woman, oui, mais...she can not cook and should not be allowed near a stove. She managed to ruin ze kitchen in her apartment while trying to make tea... Mais, once I was up and getting her out of ze kitchen, zen I realized zat she was right."
"How, mm. Did it happen?" Richard asked. He knew he didn't need to explain what he meant by 'it'.
"Ah, you know ze boxes zat armies will mark 'Explosive! Keep from open flame'? Well, zey are explosive, and should be kept from open flame." Etienne explained. "Et, tu?"
"When you're, mm. In a trench, peeking over...the top, and someone. Yells 'Duck'!. You should, mm. Duck."
"I will drink to zat!" Etienne said, raising his glass. Richard did the same, and after drinking the last of the wine, the two men sat back and fell into conversation.