My Fair Lacey
My Own Fair Lacey
Chapter 19
June – Five Years Later
It was evening with a full moon. The large cabin with the wrap around porch looked out on the Atlantic Ocean. There were palmetto trees and a rocky path down to the beach leading away from the cabin. A visitor walking the perimeter of the island would find a boat dock and several smaller cabins tucked away built up on stilts as was typical of coastal dwellings. On the highest point of the island, a visitor would find an airstrip and a small plane parked in a hanger.
Lacey was sitting on the wide front porch in one of two matching rocking chairs. Rumple had just come out to join her bringing them drinks. He carried a whiskey bottle and glass for himself but had fixed her a raspberry ginger ale.
"Thank you, darling. How are the little munchkins?" Lacey asked him reaching for her glass.
"Gideon actually went out first, even though he protested the loudest that he was not sleepy. Belle became too interested in the story to go out." He shook his head and sat down, worn out from dealing with an energetic four-year-old and an overly-inquisitive two-year-old. "Next time I need to find a duller story."
"Have I told you today how much I appreciate you taking care of . . . everything you take care of?"
"Nausea's still bad?" he asked, concerned, sitting down in the second rocking chair. When she nodded, he asked, "I thought you were supposed to be over it by now? It wasn't this bad with Gid or Belle and I don't remember it lasting longer than the first trimester."
"You're right. It wasn't this bad and didn't last this long. Oh, yeah. I called Doc before we left this morning and talked with him. I forgot to tell you," Lacey began sipping her ginger ale. "He thinks that with the early weight gain and the amount of nausea . . . and vomiting I've had, that I might be having twins this time around."
Rumple spewed his drink. "You forgot to tell me?!" He wiped his mouth. "Twins?!"
"Well, it's just a possibility," Lacey shrugged it off. "If I'm still barfy two weeks from now when we go back home, he'll schedule me for an ultrasound and we'll be able to see 'em . . . or it," she informed her husband. "You got any twins in your family?"
"No . . . yes. My father's aunts, the two ladies that raised me – they were twins."
"So, this is all your fault," Lacey said sourly.
Rumple regarded his disgruntled wife tolerantly. "Yes, I'd have to agree. Although I do remember you being the instigator this last time around," he muttered. Then he brightened. "And I don't think I've told you today, but your tits look magnificent."
Lacey pulled a face, "Yeah, that's what Jefferson said."
"Jefferson is making comments about my wife's breasts. I don't think I approve of that."
"Hey, I don't have too many secrets from Jefferson. He practically delivered Belle what with you having to make that trip to Paris and then Belle coming early. I remind you again, you owe me a trip to Paris."
"Hey, I did get there in time, barely, I admit, but in time, nonetheless. When our youngest goes off to college, I promise, trip to Paris," he told her.
Lacey sipped her soda and surveyed the dark ocean now split by a glistening thread of moonlight. Soft wave sounds reached her ears and cool breezes wafted off the water and cooled the air to a pleasant temperature, despite the month.
This had become a tradition with them – every year, she and Rumple would spend the first two weeks of June on the island. They also had begun spending a week at Christmas in the secluded spot enjoying themselves and the premium family time the island offered. Lately, they had begun to invite their friends to join them for the second week of June.
Five years ago, Rumple had hired a full-time caretaker, Jason Cogsworth, to take care of things on the island – keeping up the landscaping and maintaining the cabins. Rumple occasionally would rent cabins out, but only to a select few people that he liked and trusted.
"You know, I was thinking recently that if I had known just how much money you had, I don't know that I would have insisted on that prenup," Lacey told him.
"Anytime you want to renegotiate things, I'm open," he told her. "Anything you want – you got it. I didn't think things could get any better than my wedding day, but you've made every day even better and any way I can recompense you, I'm in."
Lacey nodded in agreement, "It is better. I love you more today than I did when we got married. It's different now though, deeper, more understanding."
"Oh, for me it's that you've gotten hotter with age," he said finishing his whiskey.
Lacey shook her head and snorted. "It's the pregnancies. They've reset my thermostat." She closed her eyes for a moment. "I'm so hoping this nausea will be over soon. I've got all these ideas for the store."
"Oh yes," Rumple was immediately interested. Lacey had already demonstrated some good business insights in the first year of her little bookstore. She'd finished up her degree in library science with a minor in business a year ago, having managed to graduate on time despite two pregnancies. Together they'd found a good location and opened up an eclectic bookstore with a coffee and wine bar on the side.
"I'm thinking about starting a little publishing operation, so local authors can get their work published."
"That's a bit risky."
"Well, I'm not looking for it to be a money-making enterprise. I'm thinking of it more as an important service I can offer the community."
"We'll look into what we need to do and run some numbers by Nolen when we get back."
"Maybe we can get my dad to invest," Lacey suggested.
"Yeah, who'd have thought it? I would have guessed that by now he would have blown through that wad of cash he inherited, but he's managed to make money, quite a bit. You're an heiress now in your own right." He poured himself a second whiskey. "It's even harder to believe, he's managed to take my father along for the ride. I think my father is more solvent than he has ever been. He seems happier now than I can ever remember him being."
"He seems to be getting along with your mother better – or perhaps she's getting along with him," Lacey remarked.
"I often wonder if he and she hooked up at our wedding."
"Can't say for sure. I know your mother and Ruby got to be real good friends at our wedding."
Rumple spewed his drink again. "You've got to quit dropping these bombshells. Ruby! And my mother! How have I not heard about this before?"
"You didn't know? Ruby's pretty . . . uh . . . open to experimentation and, apparently, so is your mother – especially when alcohol has been involved. I don't know if your dad joined them or not."
Rumple blinked. "I can live without that particular imagery."
"Well, we still missed the best part. You whisked me off before the party really got going," she complained.
"You mean before Jefferson streaked through the dining hall wearing only a cape and a red sequined speedo? Oh, and a top hat – I almost forgot the top hat. I'd told him he could wear whatever he wanted to to the reception. He's never been shy and I know he'd had a few and was in a celebratory mood. If you like, I'm sure he'd be happy to re-create the scene."
"I'll pass . . . I think," Lacey told him.
Rumple turned pensive. "You know, you coming into my life has made such a difference – for a lot of people."
Lacey shrugged. "And here I was thinking it was you coming into my life that had made the difference. Well, I do know both of our fathers were thrilled when they got a grandson," Lacey said.
"And then a granddaughter," Rumple reminded her. "Our little Belle even won over my mother."
Lacey laughed, "Yes, when she told your mother 'you pretty,' your mother went head over heels."
"Yeah, and now, she's spent a small fortune in prissy little dresses for Belle."
"And," Lacey sighed, "our Belle is not a prissy little girl. She should be buying them for Grace."
Lacey was referring to Jefferson and Viktor's daughter, who was born from an Ivy League donor egg, a mix of sperm from the fathers and a very well-paid surrogate mother. Jefferson's ovaries had exploded after Gideon was born and he had realized that he really wanted children, children of his own. Grace was a bright little girl with blond hair and a slender build – she could have been his or Viktor's biological offspring. She had been well-named, as she was a careful, thoughtful three-year-old who liked starched dresses and painted fingernails and quiet tea parties.
"Speaking of Grace," Rumple began. "I'm thinking when she and her dads get here next week, perhaps we should go ahead and betroth her and Gideon."
Lacey laughed. "Perhaps we should wait until they can decide for themselves."
Rumple shook his head, "Nah, this is too important to let them decide. I'll talk it over with Jefferson. I'm sure he'll be in agreement."
Lacey just shook her head – knowing Rumple and Jefferson they could very well sign a marriage contract on behalf of their children. "Who do you have in mind for Belle?" she had to ask in a follow-up.
"Oh, she will never marry. She'll remain my sweet, innocent baby girl for the rest of her life," he announced. "There's not a man - or woman - out there who will ever be good enough for my little girl."
Lacey bit her lip but didn't say anything.
Rumple shifted in his chair. "Are you going to sit out here all night?" he asked.
"A little longer. The fresh air is helping my nausea."
"Well, I'm going to go in and grab a shower. The children are likely to be up at sunrise and they'll want breakfast and a walk on the beach."
He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, pulled back a moment and then kissed her again, this time on the lips.
"Don't get chilled," he warned her before stepping inside.
Lacey sat and rocked, sipping her ginger ale. She knew her children were safe and asleep in one of the big bedrooms. With the possibility of twins, they might have to do some re-configuring of sleeping arrangements before December. They'd certainly have to get a second crib and one of those special two-fer strollers.
They'd be boys. Yes, if she had twins, they'd be boys and it would be her and Belle against all that testosterone. And Belle was already behaving like a tomboy, chasing after her big brother and copying his behavior. Not that Lacey had any objections - she wanted Belle to be her own person and not be tied to any stereotypes . . . but, she had to admit, she sometimes missed having a little girl who liked traditionally girly things and activities. Thank goodness for Grace who could keep a hair ribbon in place and not step the hem out of her dress and never ruined her new black patent shoes by chasing down some frogs in a pond.
Lacey sighed. She could see both herself and Rumple in each of her children. Gideon had her passion for adventure, her bravery, and his father's deep introspective nature. Isabelle had inherited her mother's love for reading and her father's clever thought processes and insatiable curiosity.
They'd had to move out of the apartment, of course, and even though Lacey hadn't pursued her realtor's license, she still had connections and had been able to find them a single house on three acres. There had already been one cottage on the property and Dove had claimed this. Rumple had talked it over with Ms. Potts and a second cottage, to her specifications, had been built new for her.
The house was thirty minutes from downtown and Rumple had kept the in-town apartment for those times when the weather turned grim and he didn't want Lacey making the drive into school, and later, into her business. There had been some remodeling to fit in the children. Things were tight but workable, but now with the twins – they might have to look for a larger in-town apartment.
Inside, Rumple stepped out of the shower and dried off, putting on some cotton sleep pants and a tee-shirt. As much as he enjoyed his friends and family and their children, he cherished the time he had with his own little family.
Gideon's birth had been a miracle for him. When he'd first held the newborn baby, realizing that he had helped create this new life, he felt like his heart had grown two sizes. Every milestone was remarkable to him, and while he grieved that he'd not been there long enough for Neal, he was grateful for his second chance with Gideon.
And then his daughter was born. She was a feisty child, much louder than Gideon, much more assertive about seeking out attention. And while he'd thought Gideon was bright enough, his daughter's intelligence had astonished him. Lacey had assured him it was simply a reflection of male and female developmental patterns – girls talked earlier than boys, but still, Belle seemed unusually smart. Of course, he had to consider who her mother was.
Yes, he certainly enjoyed watching his children. Little Belle would follow her big brother around, modeling every action. She obviously idolized him. Gideon complained about her a lot, but somehow, was always protective. Rumple thought they were pretty children, even allowing for his natural bias. Gideon had inherited his brown eyes while Belle's infant blue eyes had begun to change into a blue-green. Both of the children had curling brown hair and pale skin.
That reminded him, he needed to get the sunscreen out.
After a week, they would all be joined by Jefferson, Viktor, and Grace, and they would also be joined by Emma and Neal and their infant, Rumple's grandson, Henry. He could only imagine the organized chaos that would ensue once the children were a bit older.
He heard a noise and looked up to see his wife coming into the bedroom. She smiled at him and came over to run her fingers through his damp hair. It still thrilled him to see that determined look in her eyes.
"You know, if I wasn't about to puke, I'd so jump you right now," she told him.
"I'm willing to take the risk."
"Oh, I'm not. Nothing dulls romance like vomit."
"You still want to stop at four?" he asked wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling her neck.
"Right now, yes, absolutely," she told him. "You'll have to ask me that again when this baby, these babies, are sleeping through the night." She reluctantly pulled away from him and started toward the bathroom. She stopped. "Oh, I'll wait and get a shower in the morning. I'm too tired right now." She changed into a loose-fitting nightgown and lay down next to her husband. He placed a hand on her swollen abdomen.
"Twins, huh?" he said.
"You're feeling rather smug about this, aren't you?" she asked him.
"Yes, I am. My little guys did quite the job," he was smiling at her. "'Course, I'm still trying to wrap my head around you allowing me to touch you at all."
He lifted his hand from her abdomen, knowing that pregnancy made her core temperature heat up and she was always too warm. Although she welcomed cuddling with him when she wasn't pregnant, he knew tonight that she would toss and turn if he tried spooning with her.
"You made it happen, you know that? All this?" He spoke to the ceiling. "If you hadn't come into my life wearing that slutty costume, with those ridiculous shoes and that outlandish wig with your preposterous offer to pay me for elocution lessons, none of this would have happened. If you hadn't put up with me . . . if you hadn't come back and worked with me . . . none of this would have happened."
"I was lucky. If I hadn't gotten caught in that rainstorm and overheard you talking . . . lord knows where I'd be. You helped me make the changes I needed to," Lacey said to her husband.
"You know, we seem to do this every June on our anniversary," Rumple realized. "We get very introspective and look back at our lives, before and after we got together."
"Nothing wrong with doing that every so often. It helps us appreciate what we have."
"Well, I know exactly what I have to appreciate. It's you, all you. It's always been you. My beautiful, my brave, my brilliant, my own fair Lacey." And he shifted so that he could kiss her goodnight.
A.N. This story is (obviously) a remix/blending of Rumbelle with Pygmalion and My Fair Lady. I wasn't satisfied with the ending of either the play or the movie – in the play, Eliza ends up with Freddie (ugh) and in the movie, she returns to Higgins entirely on his terms. I felt that Higgins easily had as many issues as Eliza had – and it would be fun to have her return to tutor him, to help him revitalize his core sweet character that was buried under a layer of cynicism. Jefferson as the Pickering character turned into the biggest surprise (for me) in this story. His friendship with both Lacey and Rumple became so important to both of them and he was so much fun to write. Hope you enjoyed it.
As I often do after finishing a multi-chapter story, I take a couple of weeks off (perhaps publishing a couple of my short stories in my Twyla Files – I've got a brief take-off on Pride and Prejudice with Belle and Rumple as high school students and there's an insane piece with Rumple and Belle on Naked and Afraid, which I can't imagine would be appealing to anyone except myself). Not sure what direction I will take next, I've got a couple more movie remixes (His Girl Friday, Desk Set, Christmas in Connecticut, among others) and one particular longer original story which I let go during Nanowrimo and haven't properly returned to. Thx to everyone who reads my stuff (love hearing from so many of you) - twyla