They went directly to the club so that Geneviève could lie down for a while before the show. Jean herself had napped on the couch in her dressing room and she knew it was comfortable. She had brought a quilt from home just for napping, so she made sure Geneviève had everything she needed before she left her to sleep.
She went in search of Lucien.
"He's upstairs," Matthew told her, looking up from the paperwork he was examining on one of the tables. He paused and lowered his voice. "He was driving me crazy. I've never seen him nervous before a performance until now."
"He's nervous? About performing for his mother?"
"Go figure," said Matthew, returning to the accounts.
Surely he had performed for Geneviève often when he was a boy. What was different now, she wondered. She decided to ask him.
She found him standing in front of the mirror with an untied necktie hanging around his neck. When he spotted her he managed a smile. "What do you think? Necktie or no?"
Jean walked over to him and pulled on both ends of the tie so that he leaned down to kiss her. Then she pulled the tie away completely. "You never wear one of these onstage," she said, rolling it up and setting it aside before she unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. She looked him up and down, admiring the beautifully cut three piece suit and crisp white shirt. "Perfect, just like that," she assured him.
"Yes?"
"Oh, yes." She took his hand and led him over to the couch, insisting they sit. "Now, what's going on?" she asked gently.
He shook his head. "It's nothing."
"You're nervous about performing in front of your mother?"
"I know it's completely unreasonable, but she's still my mother and I want her to be proud of me," he admitted.
"It's not at all unreasonable to want your mother to be proud of you," Jean assured him. "But you must know she's proud of you anyway."
"I hope so. It's just... even as a boy the only times I was ever nervous before a performance were when I knew she was there."
"You weren't nervous on Christmas Day when you and I performed and she was there."
"You didn't know me quite as well, then. I actually was a bit, but I was just as anxious that you do well in front of Tony," he said.
"I'm the one who should be nervous tonight, trying to make a good impression," Jean pointed out.
Lucien shook his head. "She already adores you. She's told me as much. She adores you because you make me so happy."
Jean's smile bloomed. It was lovely to know Geneviève adored her, but even lovelier to know that she made Lucien happy. He certainly did the same for her.
"Then we have nothing to worry about," she said, kissing him again.
Geneviève was given the table nearest to the center of the stage, with Matthew and Alice to keep her company. Jean watched from the wings as Lucien performed. They had agreed he would do some extra songs on his own before introducing her. After he had done several, he pulled the microphone closer as the applause died down.
"Thank you very much. This is a special night for me because my beautiful mother is here tonight." He swept a hand toward Geneviève and blew her a kiss. "Maman, this one is for you."
Smiling at her, he began to play 'Let It Be'.
When he had finished, Geneviève clasped her hands over her heart before opening them toward him. In return, he bowed to her.
Seeing the exchange, Jean was touched. She could only hope that Thomas would no longer have the power to prevent Geneviève from seeing her son. Lucien could certainly use her support as his therapy proceeded.
Then he introduced her, and Jean went out to join him onstage. In honor of Geneviève she decided on the fly to sing something in French. One of the few songs she knew was "Ne Me Quitte Pas" as sung by Nina Simone, a song known in English as "If You Go Away". She whispered to Lucien what she wanted as she clasped his hand while the audience applauded her entrance. She trusted him to know the key and tempo she would need, and of course he did.
As she was finishing the song, she noticed Geneviève beaming and nodding her approval. Jean thought that if Geneviève was going to be a regular patron of the club she might need to expand her repertoire to include more songs en français.
She made sure to sing a couple of songs that required Lucien to join her. If he was still experiencing any nervousness it certainly didn't show. The audience, including Geneviève, seemed to enjoy the show immensely, demanding three encores.
When they finally left the stage together, Jean wore a beaming smile. "That was fun. Your mother should come more often."
"It was fun," said Lucien, "and thank you for singing in French for her. I could tell how much it meant."
"I'm glad."
"I'll meet you out front after we change," he told her, leaving her with a quick kiss.
Jean hummed as she made her way back to her dressing room. As she opened the door, she thought that if she and Lucien were going to be living together while his mother took over the guest house maybe she should suggest that they share the dressing room as well. Let Matthew have his office all to himself once more.
Quickly she changed her clothes, removed the stage makeup and brushed out her hair. She was hungry, not surprising since she'd eaten only the fast food since breakfast. Lucien must be as well. Maybe they should stop for something on the way home. It would save having to prepare something at the house and clean up afterwards.
She found Lucien sitting at Geneviève's table with Cec Drury. "Matthew and Alice went home," he explained. "It seems Lucy was fussing for most of the day so they wanted to rescue the poor babysitter who was at her wits' end."
Jean could sympathize. "So you need to lock up before we leave?"
"I can take care of all that," said Cec. "You go ahead."
"Thank you, Cec, that's very kind of you," said Lucien, standing up. "Home, then?"
Geneviève rested a hand on his arm. "Mon cher, would you think me terribly weak and hopeless if I asked you to take me back to our house?" she said softly.
He sat back down. "I know you are neither weak nor hopeless," he assured her. "If that's what you really want, of course I'll take you home."
"Watching you with dear Jean tonight, how you care for each other, it reminded me how much I still love your father. Walking out on him won't really solve anything. I plan to have a serious talk with him, though. No more secrets, and no more interfering with your life."
"I hope you can convince him. Your walking out might have shown him that you're serious, if nothing else," said Lucien.
"I'm sorry to be so much trouble for you. Both of you," she said, looking from Lucien to Jean.
"You were hardly trouble," said Jean. "It was lovely to spend time with you. You made the evening special for both of us."
"That's very sweet of you to say." She looked back at Lucien. "That's another item to address with your father. Both of you are welcome to visit at any time. He will make you feel welcome."
Lucien clearly felt some doubt that she could manage that, but he kept it to himself. "Well, then, it's back to the Palisades." He helped his mother to her feet, thanked Cec once again, and they all headed out to his car.
There was little conversation between the three of them as Lucien drove. Jean weighed whether she should try to lighten the mood with small talk but decided against it. Lucien might try to tell her otherwise, but she knew better than to offer her opinion unasked on a family issue. This was a matter for the Blakes to sort out among themselves.
"It's very late, Maman," Lucien said at last. "Maybe you should call to let them know you're on the way."
Geneviève considered that for a moment before reaching for her phone. "I'll call Dawson," she said. "Thomas needs to know immediately that my coming home doesn't mean all is forgiven."
Lucien raised his eyebrows as he glanced at Jean. It appeared Geneviève meant business.
When they reached the house, Dawson was standing outside to greet them, looking as impeccable as ever, even though they had reason to suspect the call had gotten him out of bed. He opened the car doors for both Geneviève and Jean, although Jean had not been expecting to go into the house. She thought Lucien might help his mother up the steps and inside, then they would leave. But Geneviève had other ideas.
"Come inside," she urged them. "You must be hungry. I'm sure Dawson can find something for you to eat."
"There's a pot of soup that will just take a moment to warm up," Dawson confirmed. "It was intended for Mister Blake's supper, but he hasn't been eating all day."
"Are you sure we won't be in the way?" Jean asked. The thought of a warm bowl of soup was very tempting.
"You go to the kitchen. I'll speak with Thomas, and then we'll both join you. I'll be sure he eats before going to bed." She kissed Lucien and then Jean on both cheeks and whispered her thanks, before leaning on Dawson's arm as he led her to find her husband.
Lucien watched her go, then he turned to Jean. "She's certainly determined. Maybe she's right and she can make him change. We'll see."
He tucked Jean's hand in the crook of his elbow and together they headed for the kitchen. By the time they got there the cook, Mrs. Lopez, already had the soup pot heating up. Dawson must have called ahead.
Mrs. Lopez, a genial woman with steel grey hair and a sunny smile, greeted Lucien enthusiastically. "Señor Blake, you should have told me you were coming," she scolded good-naturedly. "I would have made churros for you."
Lucien laughed and kissed her cheek. "Señora Lopez, this is my very dear friend, Mrs. Beazley. Jean, this is Carmelita Lopez, who makes the best churros in Southern California. She used to have them warm and waiting for Tommy and me when we'd get back from school."
Jean noted that the older woman crossed herself and whispered a blessing at the mention of Lucien's brother.
"A pleasure to meet you," Jean told her.
"Sit, sit," Mrs. Lopez urged. "Coffee, tea, beer?"
"Just some water, I think," said Jean. "Thank you."
"The same for me," said Lucien. "I can get it."
Mrs. Lopez nodded to him, then went to the oven to pull out some warm rolls and arrange them in a basket.
"Ah, you're in for a treat, Jean," Lucien told her. "Señora Lopez's French rolls are second only to her churros. She taught herself to make them especially for my mother, and you'll swear they came from a top French bakery."
"I look forward to it," said Jean, smiling at the woman who waved a hand at Lucien as though he were speaking nonsense.
They started on the rolls while waiting for the soup to be heated through, and Jean found that Lucien had not exaggerated about them. The exterior was perfectly crusty yet inside they were dense enough to be substantial while at the same time being soft and airy. "These are wonderful," Jean complimented. "I don't suppose I could get you to share your recipe."
The elderly cook winked at Lucien. "I will if you promise to make some for my Lucien."
"Of course," said Jean. "Any time he wants."
Mrs. Lopez sighed. "You should keep this one," she told Lucien.
"For as long as she'll have me," he replied. He and Jean shared a smile.
At that moment Geneviève entered the kitchen on Thomas's arm. Lucien quickly stood up. Whether it was out of respect for his mother or wariness of his father, Jean couldn't tell. She did note that the teasing manner Mrs. Lopez had adopted toward Lucien seemed to disappear entirely. She gave a polite nod in the direction of the two older Blakes before busying herself with the pot of soup.
"May we join you?" Geneviève asked Lucien and Jean.
"Yes, of course," said Jean after Lucien hesitated. It was their home, after all.
As if recognizing that he might seem a bit churlish, Lucien's manners returned and he pulled out a chair for his mother. Then he spoke to Mrs. Lopez. "Señora, I know we must be keeping you from your bed. I can take it from here."
The cook looked to her employers for permission to go. Geneviève said kindly, "Thank you for taking such good care of us. Good night."
She removed her apron, squeezed Lucien's arm in appreciation and hurried out.
Jean got up to help Lucien put the soup into the four bowls, and they all sat down. She was casting around for a way to excuse herself as well so the Blake family could speak in private, when Thomas spoke up.
"I've had a great deal of time to think today," he began.
"About?" asked Lucien.
"About many things, but especially about something you said last night." Thomas looked at Lucien, and Jean could see no trace of the angry bully she'd seen in their previous encounter. "You talked about losing everything, everything except money, and how little the money meant then. That's exactly how I felt for most of the day. I sat here in this big house all alone, having driven away my entire family. After spending an inordinate amount of time feeling sorry for myself, I finally admitted it was my own fault."
He paused. If he was waiting for someone to tell him that wasn't true he'd be waiting a long time, Jean thought, glancing at Lucien and Geneviève.
But he surprised her by accepting responsibility for his actions. "I'm sorry, my dear," he told Geneviève. "I'm sorry for so much, but especially for depriving you of your sons. I can never make that up to you. All I can do is acknowledge how wrong I was and try to do better in future."
Again he paused, waiting for Genevieve's reaction to his mea culpa.
If he thought she would accept it unreservedly, he was mistaken. She looked him squarely in the eye. "You will do better," she told him firmly. "I won't let you do anything to keep Lucien from feeling welcome in this house at all times. Today has been a wonderful day for me, and Lucien and Jean are the reason for that. I'm going to be a regular patron of their nightclub act, and I hope you'll join me at least once. And I'm going to invite them here for lunch or dinner as often as they can make it. We're going to be a family again, Thomas, with or without you. And I hope it will be with you."
Jean looked to see Lucien's reaction to that declaration. What was the word her own mother used to use? 'Gobsmacked?' Yes, he looked gobsmacked. And uncharacteristically silent.
She returned her attention to Thomas when he began to speak again. "To you, Lucien, I can only say I'm sorry. I've treated you very badly for a very long time. I realize that all the things your brother accused me of were true, and I can never make up for what I've taken from you. I can only say that I'm determined to do better in the future."
She watched Lucien struggle to respond. With the way his father had manipulated him for so many years, she could understand his reluctance to accept the repentance at face value. He glanced over at her while he collected his thoughts, and Jean tried to show that she supported him, no matter what he decided.
He cleared his throat. "I appreciate that you recognize you've made mistakes," he said slowly. "I hope this epiphany is genuine, I really do. I'm willing to give you the opportunity to show that it is, for Maman's sake."
Thomas bowed his head. "All right," he said. "I suppose I deserve to have you doubt my sincerity."
"He's giving you a chance to prove it," Geneviève pointed out. "Lucien is being gracious, Thomas. He doesn't have to do that. Mon cher, perhaps you and Jean could come to dinner later in the week?"
"We work almost every night," Lucien reminded her.
Jean noticed that he didn't mention the nights he took off, when he had therapy sessions. She suspected he didn't want his father to know about them, to give Thomas more reason to think him weak. She spoke up. "You could come to the club one night and we could get dinner afterwards," she suggested. "It wouldn't be fine dining, that late in the evening, but that isn't really the point, is it?"
"An excellent idea," said Geneviève. "Thank you, my dear."
As they finished their soup they finalized plans to meet up. Lucien was subdued throughout, offering minimal input, but he didn't seem sullen or morose. And when he saw Geneviève stifle a yawn, he saw that as a cue for them to take their leave.
He kissed his mother and then offered his hand to his father. Thomas seemed surprised, but he took it and the two of them shook. Jean hoped the rapprochement between them might be real, but like Lucien she would reserve judgment on Thomas's change of heart.
The short ride home was quiet but not uncomfortable. As he pulled the car into the driveway, Jean said, "What do you really think? Was he being sincere or was it an act for your mother?"
He waited until he'd parked and turned off the engine off before responding. "I have absolutely no idea," he admitted finally. "I hope you'll help me to figure it out."
She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere."
"I'm glad to hear that," he said with a grin. "Perhaps we could continue this discussion inside."
"In your bedroom?" she asked with a cheeky grin of her own.
"As good a place as any," he said, twining his fingers with hers.
"On one condition," she told him. "If you promise you'll still be in bed next to me when I wake up in the morning."
He tilted his head as though he were thinking it over. "I suppose..." he began, before he leaned in for a real kiss, deep and with a promise of more.
When it ended, she sighed in contentment. "Then what are we waiting for?"