After about an hour Bulma thought she heard footsteps. She nudged Vegeta, who put his arm around her.

"You leaving now?"

"Vegeta, I think someone's here."

"What?" He raised up in bed, glancing at a strategically placed baseball bat.

"I think someone is here," Bulma repeated anxiously.

The joyful voice and booming footsteps hit high volume in front of the bedroom door. "Brother! Your office assistant says you're feeling poorly. Ya never take off from work, so I'm here to help."

"Oh no." Vegeta covered his face with both hands. "Declan, wait..." His desperate vocal protest sounded like a baby frog's croak. Bulma pulled the bed covers closer.

The door flew open, blowing papers off the dresser. A man about six-feet-tall with brown hair stood within its frame. His smile, reminiscent of a Hollywood actor, was as massive as his shoulders. Bulma didn't need an introduction.

"Aye, how are ya doing, lad?" Declan asked. "Ah...oh. Better than I thought!"

"Declan! Really?" Vegeta scowled as Bulma gave up the veneer of formality and giggled. "You think this is funny?!"

Bulma squeezed his hand. "Yeah."

"Oh, now I'm intrigued." Declan's hands clasped behind his back. "Ms., I do apologize for my interruption, but I must say I already like ya. Anyone who can get this swamp-country sourpuss to blush must be quite, quite special."

"Get out." Like an expert pitcher, Vegeta snatched a baseball from the nightstand and fired it at him. Declan caught it nimbly.

"You must control that temper." His touched his chin knowingly as Vegeta coughed. "Sounds like ya need another hot toddy for that throat, as well. Shame on ya for spreading germs to the lovely lady. I'll head back to the kitchen and make two mugs."

"Just please leave - and I don't need one. Neither does she."

Declan nodded at Bulma once more. "Nice to meet, um..."

"My name is Bulma."

"Lovely name," Declan said. "Oh yes. Vegeta, bonne fête à toi."

Vegeta's right fist clenched. "You're a day late, jackass."

Declan whistled as he closed the door. "Ms. Bulma, be sure to ask him what that means."

Bulma finally doubled over laughing while Vegeta pulled the bedsheets over his head. "He is a character. So are you going to tell me what those words mean?"

"I'm not," he said irritably. "Declan has a fantastic knack for stirring up trouble. It's like breathing for him. He bear-hugged me like I was a toddler when Emaline first introduced him. My sister found that hilarious. I didn't speak to her for a week."

Bulma pressed a button on her smartphone. "Edison, tell me what bonne fête à toi means."

"It's an informal French dialectal phrase that means happy birthday to you," the phone replied.

"Traitor," Vegeta said, taking her phone. "You can leave, too, for that matter." Maybe she was a spy. He had never heard any language description that precise before from his phone.

Bulma tickled his goatee. "I would kiss you, but I think it's time to brush our teeth."

"Stop." Vegeta wrinkled his nose. "You're going to make me sneeze – and you can't use my toothbrush."

"I always carry one," Bulma said, laughing. "How can I leave here without being cornered again?"

"The door at the end of the hall leads to a stairwell that lands next where we came in. Run quickly before Declan tries to make you eat a cauldron of oatmeal."

Bulma opened the door and whispered, "I hope you feel better. Really try to get some rest, OK? Happy belated birthday. I'll leave these clothes in the guest room. Thanks for letting me borrow them."

Vegeta blew his nose. "I don't believe I had a choice in that decision. Do whatever it takes not to catch what I have."

She smiled. "I would not mind you taking care of me."

"Bye." They pointed their index fingers at each other. The ball was in Vegeta's court now. He opened the window blinds to let more sunshine in. Then he heard Emaline's voice in his ears: "Besson, go chase that hen."

Bulma texted after making a safe getaway back downtown. The drive back to her Capitol Hill neighborhood was a surprisingly easy ride, so she stopped by a deli shop for a late lunch. Her mother's picture appeared on her phone as she sat down.

"Hey mom."

Bulma realized she was on speakerphone again. She wondered which hobby occupied Bunny today. The older woman's avocations kept craft store workers employed in three U.S. states.

"Just checking on you, sweetheart, while I work on my mosaic pottery. Bulma, I told all three of your brothers that you might come home for Thanksgiving."

"Mom, that's so not cool! You're using me a bargaining chip to make two of them travel there?"

Annoyed, Bunny exhaled. All the Brief children had an understanding that she would plot against them whenever she felt like it. "Enough about that. Call me a gangster. Are you at work? I hear commotion."

"No, I'm at the deli eating lunch," Bulma muttered. "I took off from work today."

"Oh? Did something happen?"

"Yeah."

Bunny pondered her daughter's lengthy pause. "OK, darling. Tell me all about him."

Dressed in a bathrobe and slippers, Vegeta entered the kitchen looking disheveled after dragging himself from bed. He had to face the music. Raucous laughter greeted his appearance with a giant ball of tissues over his face. True to his word, Declan had a hot toddy ready at the table. Beside him sat Barnabé looking like a cat with a bird caught between its teeth.

Vegeta took the mug from Declan's hand and said, "You both will be the death of me before any illness. I can't drink this."

"You should," said a grinning Barnabé. "You look like hell, mon frère. Although you do seem… lighter. Happy birthday."

"You too are a day late, mon frère, and why in the hell are you here? It's eighty degrees in New Orleans. I'm surprised your balls and dick didn't freeze when you stepped off the plane here."

Barnabé squeezed his right bicep and smiled. "You want to arm wrestle, big brother? I might win in your pitiful condition."

"Ya know why we're both here," Declan interrupted. "The only reason why we didna show up last night at Fleur-de-Lis is Fabien said not to."

"And you listened to him?" Vegeta asked with disbelief.

"He said a lady caught your eye. When's the last time that's happened? Trust me, it was a tough decision for Barnabé and me not to come ruin it, but it seems everything worked out."

Barnabé leaned forward. "Now tell us about the lady."

"Boys, look, I…"

Declan placed his hands on the table and said, "Vegeta, let me tell ya something. Not even your bloodshot eyes can hide the sparkle I see. I remember how I felt the first day I met your bessonne. There is… no mistaking it."

Vegeta met their serious gazes with his own. "I'm returning to bed. I know I will never live this down, but you are right. I can't let her slip through my fingers. Now be useful and make some groceries. You know what I like to eat."

ooooXXXoooo

A year and a half later, Bulma and Vegeta stood holding hands as a band played a special song for them. They strolled slowly along the perimeter of the dance floor in the banquet hall. One by one, their wedding guests found partners and marched behind them. The bride and groom then moved to the middle of the floor and waltzed while everyone watched.

"You are an excellent dancer," Bulma said. "I didn't know you had it in you. Did you learn from Barnabé? I am so glad he worked with me on this."

Vegeta glared at his baby brother over her shoulder. "I do have some redeeming qualities – and, no, damn it. He learned from me." Barnabé, who figured out what happened, clapped and laughed.

Later, while their happy guests continued their carousing, the newlyweds found a cooler, quieter spot outside near a river. Both felt relieved to be alone together, especially Vegeta. The Louisiana sunset had made a spectacular appearance.

"We could have had a much smaller affair, Dr. Chennault."

"Yeah, right," Vegeta said as they kissed. "Let's just say you owe me, Dr. Brief."

Bulma reached into her silk purse and said, "I have something for you." Vegeta tensed somewhat as she placed a medium-sized jewelry case into his hand. "It's OK, honey. Open it."

"Femme, we're supposed to give our gifts to each other at the same time."

"Let me do it then." Bulma knew this would be emotional for them both, but she hadn't expected to cry so much as Vegeta looked on. She removed a brushed silver pocket watch, which had "with all my love" engraved on the outside. Inside contained a photo of Vegeta's father and Emaline. The girl stood on his toes within his embrace.

After wiping Bulma's eyes, Vegeta kissed her as tears fell from his. They held hands and proceeded down the riverside as guests looked on from inside the banquet hall.

Declan and Barnabé stood watching from the doors. They embraced each other's shoulders.


END - Thanks so much for reading!