XLIII

Six months later…

It was a nice little town. All things considered, anyway. Nice and little. They had discussed at length whether they should have gone to a big city somewhere. Or gone abroad. Jean had always wanted to travel, and Lucien had done so extensively when he was younger. And they were planning on taking trip sometime next year, after they got settled. But when it came right down to it, Jean and Lucien did not want to live in a big city, and they did not abroad. Now that neither of them was alone, they only wanted a quiet, peaceful life.

They had started over before, though each of them had done it alone. When Jean's husband died and her children were grown and she needed a way to support herself, she had gotten a good position as a housekeeper with Thomas Blake in Ballarat. When Lucien had survived watching his family slaughtered in the war and he himself was an inch from death in that camp, he had left the army to become a priest. Jean had made good friends with the old Doctor Blake, and Lucien had lived a satisfactory life as a priest for quite a long time. But when the old doctor's illness claimed him and he left the bulk of his estate to Jean, she was forced to start over again.

Within a year, she had met the broken down priest, Father Blake, learned of his connection to the man whose house she'd kept all those years, and devoted herself to caring for him when he seemed incapable and unwilling to do so for himself. And in that devotion, in caring for him and learning the secrets of his past and the truth of his heart, Jean had fallen in love. They both had. But of course, that love was forbidden and dangerous, and it brought ruin upon them.

And six months later, Jean found herself here. In this nice little town. With a cottage that she and Lucien had bought together. Lucien's phonograph and record collection were in the parlor along with the sofa and rugs Jean had bought for her last house. The bedroom set from the room she had with Doctor Blake now resided in the guest bedroom, since they needed to purchase a larger bed for their own bedroom. The dining set Jean had chosen for herself was carefully tucked away in kitchen cabinets that Lucien had painted forest green, just as Jean had wanted. Their bathroom was a pale robin's egg blue like Jean's old living room, as their new living room had come with very pretty wallpaper that they did not want to replace. In designing their new home, Jean and Lucien took each other's tastes into account, though they'd found that Lucien deferred to Jean with most of it. She had been delighted.

For the last few weeks, Jean had been working hard in the front and back garden of the new house. The previous owners had put in a lawn and not done much else. But there was a covered patio area that Jean thought might be nice for some potted plants, and the back fence was just asking for a row of rose trees. In the front, the overgrown hedges needed to be cut back and Jean had hopes of planting honeysuckle vines on either side of the front porch.

It had taken a while, after they'd moved in, for Jean to be able to really get started on the outdoor work. She'd worked on doing everything that needed doing on the interior of the house, putting things where she wanted them, going shopping for the things they didn't have that they would need. Lucien was plenty busy, so Jean took care of almost everything on her own. Now that the rains had stopped, though, it was time to tackle the garden.

On that particular day, Jean was busy trimming the hedges when the postman came by. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Blake," he greeted. "Got a package for you today along with a few letters."

Jean wiped her brow and smiled before pulling off her gardening gloves. Her wedding ring sparkled in the sunlight as her bare hands were revealed to the sun. "Thank you so much, Mr. Clay," she replied, collecting the mail from him. "It's quite hot out today, can I get you a drink?"

"Thanks, Mrs. Blake, but I'm alright for now. Kind of you to offer."

They each offered their polite farewells. Jean brought everything inside the house. Lucien was still otherwise engaged, so she did not bother him. She first opened the package, and when she unwrapped the somewhat heavy item inside, she looked upon it and smiled.

Lucien concluded his business for the day and found Jean in the kitchen. She was sitting at the table with a box opened beside her as she read a letter. He came right over to kiss her swiftly. "Hello, my darling. What have we here?" he asked.

"I've got a letter from Abigail Harris. She's going to come by next weekend with Aaron so I can finally meet him," Jean explained happily.

"That's wonderful!" Lucien exclaimed. He really was pleased to hear it. The one reservation Jean had felt before they'd moved away, despite knowing it was for the best, was leaving Abigail. She had been a great friend to Jean, giving Jean that motherly purpose that she otherwise lacked in her life working with Lucien and the Church and living alone. It had been quite unpleasant, actually, once the news of Jean and Lucien's indiscretions reached Abigail. She had not been vicious like so many of their neighbors had been, but she had been unspeakably disappointed and betrayed. Jean had explained to Lucien that Abigail felt as though she knew Jean and understood her, but then to find out she'd been carrying on with the parish priest was a very rude awakening. Jean had written to Abigail immediately after they'd moved, to give the new address and to beg for the younger woman to keep in touch. It had taken another letter from Jean, offering advice for childbirth to the expectant mother, before Abigail replied. Since then, however, they'd been writing back and forth constantly. And Lucien could not be happier that Jean's dear friend had found the time to bring the baby over to meet his Auntie Jean, as Abigail called her.

"By the way, you should probably put that up as soon as you can," Jean added with a smile, gesturing to the box.

Curious, Lucien shifted the paper wrapping to find the polished plaque inside. He grinned upon seeing the engraved words:

Dr. Lucien Blake
Physician & Surgeon

It had taken a bit of doing, another medical board exam and a couple courses with the local hospital to refresh his skills, but Lucien had returned to his former career. He had been able to get a few patients to come see him so far, and he'd been able to convert the office space downstairs into a surgery to use.

Jean had been marvelous about learning some medical assistant skills—helping collect blood samples and do a bit of testing, holding one patient down while Lucien reset a bone, things like that—and she had been invaluable in organizing his inventory and his appointments. He had already been well aware of how lucky he was to have this magnificent woman in his life, and now her assistance with his new work only solidified it.

In the last six months, they'd gone through a myriad of changes. As soon as they could, they got married in the registrar's office. It would have been nice to have some friends or family about, but given the circumstances, it made more sense to just have everything be official and as far away from the Church as possible. Then, as husband and wife, they sold Jean's house and purchased the new one and went through all the difficulties of moving. Jean took care of most things around the house while Lucien was busy getting his medical license and practice up and running.

Now, finally, it felt like they'd found some stability. Abigail and her baby were coming to visit. Next month, they'd be going to Adelaide to see Jean's son and daughter-in-law and granddaughter. Lucien knew Jean had explained the situation to Christopher Junior over the phone and it had been a rather difficult discussion, what with Jean announcing she'd moved again and was now suddenly married. But Christopher had been the one to invite them to visit, so Lucien hoped this was a sign of peace.

That night, after Lucien had mounted the plaque on the front of the house beside the door and he and Jean had shared a wonderful dinner she prepared, Lucien sat alone in the parlor listening to one of his records with a glass of scotch in his hand. He no longer drank to escape his pain or numb his mind. He drank as a nice way of relaxing at the end of a long day. Jean sometimes shared a glass with him when she did some knitting or sewing on the sofa. But tonight he was alone. And he found himself, somehow, thanking God.

Now that religion was no longer a part of his life, he found that he did not worry about God very much. He did not worry if God existed or not. He did not concern himself about whether God approved of him or not. But everything in his life was finally, for the first time in such a long time, all in a state of joyful goodness. And he felt he ought to thank someone for it.

He drained his glass and turned off the phonograph. He locked the door and turned out the lights and made his way upstairs to the bedroom he shared with his wife. He found her sitting at the vanity in her nightgown putting some cream on her face.

"Jean," he began.

"Yes, Lucien?" she replied, smiling at him through the mirror.

Her smile, as always, put a happy flutter in his heart. "I was wondering, do you pray anymore?"

Jean's eyes went wide, a clear indication that she'd not expected him to ask her anything like that. "I don't go to Mass, obviously, but yes, I still pray every night."

"May I ask what you pray for?"

"I close my eyes right before bed and I ask God to watch over Christopher and Ruby and Amelia and Jack and you. I ask God to bless the memory of Christopher and your father and your wife and child. And I thank God for all the gifts bestowed on me, Amen."

Lucien regarded her curiously. "Why do you do that? After all we've been through, I mean."

Jean turned in her chair to look at him directly and she explained, "It's the same prayer I've said nearly all my life. The people in the prayer have changed over the years, but it's all pretty much the same. And I don't know if it does any difference or if I even really believe in it, but it's still habit. And after all we've been through, especially, now that we've made it out the other side, I think I have to believe that was all some kind of divine power to give us strength to get us through. I have to believe there's someone to thank for all the happiness we've found now."

Without a word, Lucien came over and kissed her. When he pulled back, he just whispered, "I quite agree."

That night they both thanked God for the gifts they had been given: the gift of finding each other, the gift of strength to hold onto each other, and the gift of being together with this new beginning.

THE END