CH. 10 - Coming Home

Belle gazed out the window of the light rail car, watching as the downtown area of Molyneaux gave way before her eyes to the more suburban-looking part of the town. Multi-story buildings and infinite stretches of concrete were gradually overtaken by sprawling green lawns and cute little houses with picket fences and colorful gardens. Children chased each other on bicycles and dogs darted happily through sprinklers, tracking muddy paw prints up and down the sidewalks.

Belle couldn't help but feel a little twinge of excitement as she watched the scenery roll past. In just a few minutes, I'll finally get to introduce Adam to Papa. She and Adam were heading to her father's house for a barbecue in honor of Belle's birthday. The barbecue was something of an annual tradition between father and daughter, but never in all of those years had a guest been included in their little celebration. Belle had spent a good week fretting over whether to ask her father if he minded her bringing a date to his house, but in the end he had surprised her by being the one to actually suggest it.

She tore her gaze from the window to check on Adam, who was sitting next to her and staring with a vacant expression at the empty seat in front of them. He had barely uttered a word since they had boarded the train, but his body and his features were tensed in a way that seemed to do all of the speaking for him. Belle might have laughed if she hadn't known how genuinely nervous Adam was about meeting her father. She knew he wanted badly to make a good impression, and she had assured him - several times, in fact - that everything would be fine, but she found that her soothing words seemed to have little effect. She did have to admit that if the situation had been reversed, and if she had been meeting his family, she would probably be feeling a bit jittery too.

Belle placed a hand lightly on Adam's knee, and he jumped as if she had pinched him. "We're the next stop," she reminded him softly.

Adam gulped. "I know," he said with a nod.

"You know," Belle said with a sympathetic smile, "my dad's really not that bad. You'll see. All of his students love him. And I know the two of you will get along fine," she added as she kissed Adam's cheek.

Adam smiled back weakly. As the train slowed to a stop, he got to his feet and reached down to offer a hand to Belle. She accepted his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Then she wove her fingers with his and led him out into the warm July evening and down the street to her father's home. Maurice Dupont lived in a small but quaint little house in the middle of a tree-lined block. The door to the one-car garage was rolled up, allowing anyone who walked past a glimpse into Mr. Dupont's surprisingly tidy workshop. A lift occupied most of the space on the tiled floor, while the walls were lined with wooden cabinets that Belle knew contained spare parts of every kind imaginable. The counters boasted an assortment of odd devices in various stages of assembly, or in some cases disassembly. Mr. Dupont's vast collection of tools was carefully sorted and arranged upon a rolling cart that had been pulled up alongside the lift.

As Belle and Adam entered the garage, a small pop rang out, and a thick cloud of smoke drifted up from a contraption sitting on the lift, propped just a foot or so above the floor. Adam's grip on Belle's hand tightened, and he instinctively moved to place himself between Belle and the smoldering piece of machinery. But Belle merely laughed and shook her head. As she released Adam's hand and stepped further into the workshop, a pair of legs suddenly popped out from underneath the lift and started to wiggle themselves out from beneath the machine. "I'll never get this hunk of junk to work," a familiar voice complained with oddly good-natured exasperation.

Belle raised a hand to wave the smoke away as a short, plump, middle-aged man with thinning white hair and a large, bushy mustache slowly emerged from beneath the lift. "Papa?"

Her father pushed a pair of safety goggles up onto his head as he staggered to his feet. "Belle!" he exclaimed happily, wiping his hands on his apron as he moved to embrace her. "You're here already! Happy birthday!"

"Thanks, Papa!" Belle said as she bent to return the hug. "It's so good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, dear." He tipped his head and shot a look around her side as they separated. "And this young man must be..."

Belle glanced over her shoulder at Adam, who was standing awkwardly near the entrance to the garage and looking like he might flee at any moment. "Papa," said Belle, leading her father over to him, "this is Adam. Adam, this is Papa."

"Nice to meet you Pa - uh, Mr. DuPont. I mean Professor DuPont!" Adam stammered.

Belle's father chuckled. "Call me Maurice, son," he said jovially as he shook Adam's hand, pulling him in close to give Adam a pat on the shoulder. But then he frowned as he pulled back, eyeing Adam curiously. "You know, you seem very familiar to me. I didn't have you in any of my classes, did I?"

Belle noticed that the color suddenly seemed to drain from Adam's face. "N-no sir," he stuttered. "I was a music major."

"Right," said Belle's father, still frowning slightly as he tried to place Adam. "Belle told me. Quite a few times, actually. She's gone on and on about you!" he laughed. Belle's cheeks grew hot as Adam raised an eyebrow at her. Her father caught the look that passed between them and laughed again. "Oh dear, was I not supposed to mention that? Well in any event, it's very nice to finally meet you. Though I just can't shake the feeling that we've met already. Ah, well, maybe I've just seen you around campus." He shrugged, then clapped his hands together. "Well what do you say we quit standing around and go start up the grill? I'll meet you out back just as soon as I wash up. There are drinks in the fridge - help yourself."

As her father went to clean up, Belle showed Adam into the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Adam fidget quietly as she poured two iced teas. She hummed thoughtfully to herself. She knew that he had been nervous about meeting her father, but something told her that that wasn't what had him so jumpy just now. And whatever it was, she was determined to get to the bottom of it before things got any weirder. She wanted him to enjoy himself; she didn't want him to spend the entire visit feeling so obviously ill at ease.

Belle led Adam out to the patio, looked around to make sure that her father was still in the house, and then turned to her boyfriend. "Okay," she said slowly. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?" When Adam widened his eyes innocently at her, she crossed her arms and fixed him with a look that told him she wasn't buying his act for a minute.

Adam sighed in defeat. "Okay, okay. Belle...I don't know how to tell you this, but your dad was right. I - I have met him."

"You have?" Belle exclaimed in surprise. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Because," Adam started in a low voice, gesturing frantically for her to keep her voice down, "I didn't know who he was when I met him - and I didn't even know you at the time! I just knew that he was a professor. I didn't put two and two together until just now." He ran a hand anxiously through his hair.

Belle frowned. She supposed it wasn't that surprising that Adam and her father might have crossed paths on campus at some point. However, that only partly explained Adam's strange behavior. "Adam, did something...bad happen when you met him?"

"Imighthavelockedhiminalab," Adam mumbled.

"Huh?" Belle shook her head. "I didn't get that."

Adam drew in a deep breath and looked at her desperately. "Belle, I locked your dad in a lab. By accident," he was quick to add.

"You did? How on earth did that happen?"

Adam winced guiltily. "I was doing a favor for Lumiere. He'd gotten some guy at school to make a set of custom picks for him, and I offered to stop by the machine shop to pick them up. It was kind of late. This professor - your dad, apparently - was the only person working in the shop, but he let me in so I could wait for Lumiere's friend. I waited for almost an hour, but the guy never showed. And I was so pissed off by the time I finally gave up and left, that I guess I just kind of slammed the door to the shop behind me without even thinking. I didn't know it locked automatically, I swear." He shrugged helplessly and gave Belle a pleading look.

"Okay," said Belle, frowning. "But couldn't Papa have just unlocked it from the inside?"

Adam shook his head. "That's the thing. From the outside, you can unlock it with an access card. But from the inside, after a certain time of day, you can only unlock it with an actual key. And your dad didn't know where the shop tech kept the key. He'd been keeping the door propped open with a doorstop - until I came along and...shut it. And I didn't even know this - I would have just walked off and left your dad stuck in there all night."

"'Would have' - so then you did get him out, right?"

Adam nodded. "Eventually. The guy I was supposed to meet showed up just as I was leaving. He'd stopped to help another student change a flat tire - so of course now I felt like a jerk for getting so annoyed with him. Anyway, he had the picks in a locker in the shop, and when we tried to get back in, we realized we were locked out - and that your dad was locked in. We searched the whole building trying to find someone with an access card that could unlock the door. I finally found a grad student who was able to get in, but your dad was stuck in there for probably forty-five minutes, at least."

Belle couldn't help it. She started laughing. And when Adam gave her a pathetic look, it only made her laugh harder. "Oh, Adam," she sighed, wiping tears from her cheeks. "You don't honestly think my dad would hold that against you, do you? I wouldn't be surprised if he's locked himself in there once or twice. And at least you got him out."

"Maybe, but his first impression of me is probably isn't that great," Adam groaned. "At worst, he thinks I'm a jerk; at best, I'm an idiot."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Then you'll just have to convince him that his first impression was wrong. Providing he even remembers that he has a first impression of you." She gave him an encouraging peck on the lips, which seemed to improve his mood almost instantly. A slow, mischievous smile crept over his face.

"I guess it couldn't hurt that you go on and on about me, could it?" he teased, snaking an arm around Belle's waist. As he started to pull her closer, Maurice suddenly came bustling through the back door with two trays full of meat and vegetables. Adam abruptly dropped his arm and took several steps backward, so that he was now nearly halfway across the patio. Fortunately, Belle's father seemed not to notice that anything was amiss as Adam sipped his drink, adopting what Belle assumed was supposed to be a casual expression.

"So, Adam," Maurice said as he arranged the food on the grill. "Belle tells me you play the guitar?"

"Yes, sir - Maurice." Adam caught himself. "I play in a band, and I also teach lessons at my uncle's music shop downtown."

"You must be pretty good then. How long have you been playing?"

"About fourteen years," Adam replied. "My uncle started teaching me when I was seven."

"You know, I used to play too," Maurice confided. "I was no Chuck Berry, but I like to noodle around from time to time. I find that playing relaxes me, and helps me to focus. And I've even tried to build a few instruments myself. In fact, I've been tinkering with an old guitar in my workshop for a few weeks now - I'm trying to scallop the fretboard by hand. I haven't quite got the sound I want from it though. Perhaps you'd humor me after dinner and take a look at it? I just can't figure out what I'm doing wrong, and I'd be curious to see if you have any suggestions."

For a moment, Adam appeared too surprised by this request to respond. Belle nudged him lightly in the side, and he finally seemed to find his voice. "Sure," he said, clearing his throat. "I'd be happy to take a look at it. I'm not sure how much help I'll be though. I've got a few guitars with partially scalloped fretboards, but I bought them that way. I've never tried to do it myself."

Maurice beamed at him. "Excellent. Now, on to more important questions: how do you like your burgers cooked?"

By the time the trio sat down to eat, Adam appeared to have relaxed at least a little bit around Maurice. In fact, to Belle's delight, the two men continued to chat amiably throughout dinner, trading advice on the physics of building string instruments and the best way to grill a hamburger. They almost seemed to forget that she was there, but she didn't mind; she was just glad to see them getting along so well and to see Adam finally loosen up. After everyone had finished eating, Belle offered to clean up so that Maurice and Adam could examine the guitar in the workshop.

When she came back into the house, she was startled to find Adam and her father sitting around the coffee table in the living room, engaged in an impromptu guitar lesson. "See, there's nothing wrong with the way you've scalloped the frets," Adam was saying patiently. "You were just pressing down too hard on the strings; you need a light touch, or you'll pull the strings out of tune...There, that's much better," he said as Maurice proudly strummed a few chords.

"Well, what do you know?" Maurice said with a grin as he looked up at Belle. "It looks like your boyfriend is quite the teacher. He's got a lot of patience for a guy who goes around slamming doors," he remarked casually. Adam, who had just taken a sip of his iced tea, nearly choked on his drink. Maurice gave him a few quick slaps on the back. "Easy son, I'm just giving you a hard time," he said, smiling kindly but seeming oddly satisfied by the deep shade of red that spread across his daughter's boyfriend's face.

After sharing some birthday cake with her father, Belle and Adam caught the train back to Adam's apartment. At Adam's suggestion, she had been spending more time there after the unexpected visit from Gaston. Adam had even cleared some space in his closet, dresser, and bookshelf for Belle to keep some of her things.

As Belle lounged quietly on the couch with a magazine, Adam dropped down next to her and handed her a small, brightly wrapped package. "Happy birthday," he said simply, kissing her on the cheek.

Belle smiled; she could tell right away that the gift was a book. She tore away the paper to reveal a very old looking but well maintained copy of Le Petit Prince. "It's a first edition," Adam explained. "It belonged to my mom. I saw that you had a copy at your place, but it looked pretty beat up."

Belle gasped. The Antoine de Saint-Exupéry classic was one of her all-time favorite stories, but never in a million years had she imagined holding such a rarefied version of the book in her hands - much less owning one. Her elation was immediately tempered though, by the knowledge that the book had been part of Adam's mother's collection. There was no way that she could ask him to part with such a personal treasure, especially knowing how attached he was to his parents' things. And so, as much as she was tempted to keep the gift, she knew that she had to do the right thing. "Oh Adam, I can't - "

"Please, Belle," he insisted. "I want you to have this." He held up a hand when Belle opened her mouth to protest further. "It's okay. I trust you with it. I know that you'll take care of it. And I think my mom would be happy to know that I gave it to you."

"Adam, are you sure?" Belle asked, still in disbelief. "This must be, well, priceless!"

"Positive," he replied. "I'm sorry that it's in French, though. I hope that's not too big a deal. You seemed like you were able to follow that movie we saw in the park well enough, so I assumed you'd be able to read this."

The reminder of their first date brought a fond smile to Belle's face. She had been so distracted by him that night that she had actually had quite a hard time following the movie, but there was no need to admit that to him now. Besides, she was much better at reading French than she was at listening to it, and she had always secretly preferred the French version of Le Petit Prince. The translations of the story never quite managed to fully capture the true beauty of the original prose.

"This is wonderful," she breathed, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. She thumbed through the book excitedly, admiring the colorful illustrations, while Adam watched with a satisfied smile.

"I told the guys this would be better than flowers or chocolates."

"What was that?" Belle murmured distractedly, tracing a finger along a faded drawing of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant.

"Uh, nothing," Adam said quickly.

"Is it okay if I keep this here at your place?" Belle asked, finally raising her eyes from the book to look at him. "Just to be safe? And that way, it's still here if you ever want it?"

"If it gives you another excuse to spend time here, it's okay with me," Adam agreed with a grin. "Would you...read some of it? To me, I mean? Since it seems like that's what you're about to do anyway?"

Belle smiled eagerly. "Of course. Do you understand French though?"

Adam shrugged. "I understand enough to get the gist. Besides, I like listening to your voice," Adam said as he swung his legs up onto the couch and stretched out, resting his head in Belle's lap. She propped the book up on his chest, while her free hand settled in his hair. He reached up and turned to the first page for her.

"Lorsque j'avais six ans ...," Belle began, the familiar words instantly filling her with a warm, happy feeling. Adam listened contently as she read on, though she didn't notice, and he wouldn't remember, when he eventually dozed off. However, when Belle reached the part where the little prince tamed the fox, she looked down to see that Adam's eyes had drifted closed. She smiled softly to herself and read on in silence as the clock ticked down the last few minutes of her birthday. It was, without a doubt, the best birthday she had had in several years.