Things will always change. That is a lesson Xavier Stoddard has learned a little too well. For one, Xavier is no longer a three year old child who's only worry was to find some way out of bedtime, and second, he no longer believes in mermaids, or fairy tales. Now, Xavier is a grown man of nineteen years. In fact, he has celebrated his nineteenth birthday just last month. He had been happy then, but now Xavier realizes that contentment can easily be ripped away, in less than an instant. Currently, he sits on the old, stone steps of a modest church, digging with a fat stick, into the soil.

"Your mama would scold you right now, Xavier," his cousin, Belle, younger by two years, sits at his side, but Xavier does not look up.

Belle watches her cousin sadly for a minute or two, waiting for some kind of response. When Xavier does not reply, she continues, "for getting your Sunday clothes dirty, non?"

Finally, Xavier lifts his sea green eyes to meet Belle's brown ones, and offers a humorless smile at the girls attempt at a joke. He is grateful to her, really. It is a kind gesture. Perhaps if it were any other day, he Xavier might have laughed.

"Où est ton papa?" Belle asks.

"Pop? Inside the church," Xavier sighs, "he wanted a moment alone with mama before the..."

Xavier cannot bring himself to finish the sentence. Every last fiber of his being is fighting off the words. Maybe then, it wouldn't be real. He will wake up in the morning to find it was only a bad dream, all of it. Xavier wipes the sweat from his brow. Le Mans, is smack dab in the middle of a sweltering summer. It hasn't rained in weeks. As a result, the grass is brown and parched, and the poor daisies were all long dead. His mother used to love daisies, they were her favorite. No one saw it coming. His mother's sickness came on so suddenly. Neither Xavier nor his father were worried. His mother had always been a strong, healthy woman. The illness was supposed to have passed. Even after his mother developed a fever, Xavier was still unconcerned. His mother was never sick for long. Perhaps though, he should have been concerned, for shortly after his mother contracted the fever, the drought had struck, plunging Le Mans into the greatest heat wave the small village had ever experienced. His poor mama, she was miserable all that time. Xavier or his father would dutifully bring her water to sip, or fan her flushing cheeks. His mother was dead within the week. And what had it all been for? She was the greatest woman in all the world, and he had failed her. Perhaps if he had only brought her to a doctor sooner...

"Before the funeral starts," Belle finishes her cousin's sentence for him.

"Oui," Xavier sighs again, chocking back tears.

The stable boy thinks he is successful in his attempt, but Belle clearly notices the wet spots in the otherwise dry dirt. The water droplets certainly hadn't come from the non-existent rain clouds. Belle rests a comforting hand on Xavier's broad shoulder. Really, that is all she can do for him at the moment.

"I'm behaving selfishly, aren't I, Belle?"

"Non," Belle gasps at her cousin's bizarre words.

"Yes, I am," he maintains.

"I don't understand."

"You lost your mother at such a young age, you don't even remember her. And I'm... I'm a grown man now."

"Belle sighs, "That doesn't make the hurt any duller, Xavier."

Xavier goes back to tilling the soil with his stick. He is about to respond to his cousin, when a pair of black shoes appears in front of him. His gaze travels from the black shoes to the hem of a woman's charcoal gray skirt, then to the bodice of her dress, and finally to her face. Blond hair, blue eyes. Xavier knows this girl well enough.

"Bonjour, Babette," Xavier greets unenthusiastically.

"I am sorry for your loss, Xavier," Babette begins.

"Merci," Xavier answers automatically, retuning his attention to the dirt.

"Mama has asked me to tell you that you and your father are welcome at our home anytime," Babette says nervously, "two grown men alone... if you ever need a good, home cooked meal..."

"I'll be sure to relay your message to my father," Xavier cuts her off, "tell your mama, that Pop, and I thank her for the generous offer."

"Oh, okay," Babette blushes, and walks off, grateful for her opportunity to escape.

Belle watches as the girl leaves, and then glances over to her cousin who is still playing in the dirt, like a child.

"She likes you, Xavier," Belle states.

Xavier shrugs, and scratches a circle into the dirt with his trusty stick, "Pop has been trying to set me up with her for years. He's friends with her father."

"She seems nice," Belle remarks thoughtfully.

"Babette? Yeah, she is nice," Xavier answers absentmindedly.

The truth is, Babbette lacks a certain substance Xavier was looking for in a woman. She's kind, but painstakingly shy. Xavier cannot call her stupid, however, Babette still isn't the brightest woman in the village. Frankly, something is missing, when it concerns Babette, and Xavier simply doesn't feel right about that.

"And pretty too," Belle gently pokes him in the side of his ribcage.

Xavier only blows a lock on sand colored hair out of his eye, and draws eyes, a nose and a mouth into the circle he made in the soil. Babette is good looking enough, he supposes, but for one reason or another, Xavier has always found himself partial to red heads.

"How's your papa holding up?" Belle wisely changes the subject.

"Miserably," snorts Xavier, "he tries to hide his pain from me but..."

"But what?"

"Once I heard him say, 'Without my Ami, I am nothing.'"

"That is so sad," Bell says sorrowfully.

"Oui, I know," Xavier exhales, "I just wish he would share his pain with me, share anything, at all, with me. Instead he bottles up his emotions... I'm worried about him. Pop never drank, never. Last night, he disappeared for a few hours. Pop must have gone to the tavern. He came home smelling of booze."

"He's grieving, Xavier," Belle grabs her cousin's hand.

"So am I," Xavier responds flatly.

He stops to admire the face he has sketched into the earth. Xavier realizes that he has unconsciously created a happy face. Quickly, he scratches out the smile, and replaces it with a frown.

"I'm going to miss you, Belle," he says suddenly.

"Miss me? Are you going somewhere?" Belle asks confused.

"Maybe."

Belle takes her cousin's chin in her hands, and forces Xavier to look her in the eyes, "What are you talking about, Xavier?"

"Tomorrow, I'm going to ask Pop about leaving here."

"Le Mans?" Belle clarifies.

"Non, France."

"Oh," Belle furrows her eyebrows.

"I have some money saved," Xavier laughs to himself, "I was going to send my parents away on the honey moon, they never were able to afford. I used to hear them talk about it as a kid."

"Oh, Xavier," Belle frowns.

"It's fine, Belle."

"If you leave France, then where will you go?"

"Well," Xavier pauses, "I was thinking maybe to my father's home country. He's mentioned it once or twice before... Shireland, I think. I'm not sure if we have family there, however. If we do, Pop never speaks about them," Xavier shakes his head, "anyway, I have about half of the money saved right now. If I continue working at the stables with Pop, we should have enough for the rest of the voyage by the end of the year."

"Aunt Ami hated you working in the stables."

"I know."

The sky unexpectedly turns ominously dark. Both Xavier and Belle look up in alarm. Seemingly, from out of nowhere, huge gray storm clouds crowd across the once clear skies, and hang over them like a heavy pall.

Xavier glances down at his watch, "Come on, it's time for the funeral now."

Xavier stands, brushing as much dirt off his clothes as was possible, and offers Belle his hand. His cousin accepts, and as they finally enter the church, the rain pours down.

Quick French Lesson

Oui = Yes

Non = no

Merci = Thank you

Où est ton papa? = Where is your father?

Ultra Special Blah Blah Blah

Well this was an uncharacteristically depressing chapter for me to write. It made me sad, as I'm sure it also made you sad while you were reading. Am I wrong? Probably not. Having said that, I put some things in to try to lighten the mood, like the bit about Xavier being more attracted to red heads, than blonds. Anyway, now you know a little more about Xavier, and his past. I hope you enjoyed this one/two shot, of mine.

In other news, the United States is still leading the Olympic medal count with twenty four medasl. 7 gold, 7 silver, and 10 bronze. We're setting a record for most medals in a non domestic game. Germany is in second place with sixteen medals, and Norway is in third with twelve. Go team USA!

Alouette, gentille alouette,

xJadeRainx