Avril had always considered herself an understanding person. She had her share of bad days; it was a fact of life. With this sensibility in mind, Avril tried not to let Lumière's moods bother her. He was difficult to deal with and a little more cold than she could handle at times. Nonetheless, after what Sabine had told her, Avril tried to be compassionate as well as respectful towards his higher rank. But after two painfully long weeks, her patience was wearing thin.
That night before dinner, Avril had been preparing place settings when she noticed Lumière's presence beside her. In the middle of folding a napkin, she glanced up at him, offering a tiny smile to be polite in response to his frown.
"I'm almost done, I promise," she said.
Lumière looked over the settings critically. "I expect you will be fixing your mistakes before you decide that for sure."
"Mistakes? What are you talking about?"
Lumière picked up a tiny fork. "What is this?"
"The dessert fork," Avril answered.
"Correct, and where does it go?"
Avril glanced down at the other forks, pointing between the larger dinner fork and the plate. "Right there."
"Incorrect," Lumière replied, placing it horizontally parallel to the plate. "It goes there." He then looked at the water and wine glasses, which she had lined up largest to smallest. "And what are you doing with these?" he asked with an irritated sigh, rearranging them in the proper triangular order. "I told you the other day that this is how we set up the glasses."
Avril clenched her jaw, trying to keep herself in check. "I'm sorry, monsieur; old habit."
Lumière held up the napkin that she had been working on. "Where are the rings for these? I put them out for you!"
"I was trying something a little different," she argued. "I thought – "
"You thought wrong!" Lumière interrupted harshly. "You were raised as a servant, and after two weeks, you still have not learned! I taught one girl with no experience, and she learned these things in a day or two!"
"Good for her!" Avril shouted, stunning Lumière into silence. She was normally quiet and reserved when working, simply doing the task at hand. For her to raise her voice was unexpected.
"I've tried to be understanding," she said angrily. "But since I arrived, you have been nothing but cold to me. I'm sorry for any mistakes I've made, but that is no reason to hate me!"
With that, she heatedly rearranged the other setting to his liking before excusing herself to fetch the napkin rings from the kitchen.
Lumière looked down, dejected. Thinking back over the past two weeks, he sighed, realizing that Avril was right. He had been acting far too insensitively towards her. None of this was her fault. She was here to do a job that she was hired to do, no questions asked about why the job was available in the first place.
Dinner went by smoothly, though his staff was on edge as they served the meal, having heard the outburst. Once it had ended, Lumière was determined to make things right. Dismissing the staff, he stopped Avril, asking her to wait for a moment. She nervously agreed, thinking twice about what she had said to him.
"Please, follow me," he said, leading her to the presently empty kitchen. With a small, chivalrous bow, he gestured her inside.
Avril lowered her eyes. "Monsieur Lumière, I apologize; I really shouldn't have…"
"You are not in trouble," Lumière reassured, holding up his hands as though in a surrender. "It is I who should apologize to you."
Avril looked up at him, admittedly surprised. She had not expected to hear that.
"You were right," Lumière continued sincerely. "I pride myself on being welcoming and polite, especially when it comes to a very kind young lady like yourself. But I failed at it this time, and I am sorry. You have worked very hard, and I should be telling you that more often."
Avril smiled gently at the praise. "Merci, monsieur. Forgive my saying so, but Sabine mentioned that you were not yourself. I really do understand that being upset can affect anyone."
Lumière nodded. "She was right, but that really is no excuse. My personal matters should not interfere so terribly with my manner towards others. I appreciate your understanding, but I hardly deserve it."
At a moment of awkward silence, he added, "Really though, you are doing very well. I know it is hard when you have learned how to do something one way and then have to adapt to another." He reached for a napkin, waving it open with a playful flourish. "These things can be more trouble than they are worth sometimes!"
Avril laughed, "They certainly can. Trying to fold one is murder!"
Lumière smiled as she seemed more comfortable. "Believe me, I know. The girl I mentioned earlier? Of all the things she learned, she could never fold a napkin the way I tried to teach her to. I think that is why we started using rings in the first place."
"Maybe it is best to stay with them then," Avril replied, taking a napkin for herself. "Before dinner, I was trying to say that I thought I could fancy them up a bit." With great concentration, as though it was the most difficult task in the world, she folded the napkin so that it could not only sit upright on a plate, but also looked beautiful, like a piece of art.
"How did you do that?" Lumière asked, impressed, looking it over. "I was merely talking about it looking presentable next to the silverware."
"Lots and lots of practice," Avril said, making it sound like the grandest of secrets. "It does take a few tries to get right, but after you do, it's easy." She demolished her art to start again. "Here, follow what I do."
There were many attempts on Lumière's part, some of which brought on some humorous results. But after the clock had tolled numerous times after, Lumière still had not gotten it right.
"I do believe, mademoiselle, that I will not be teaching anyone how to do this," he laughed. "I therefore put you in charge of napkin folding until I get this right, and even then, your help would be appreciated."
"I'll see what I can do, but we can continue the lessons tomorrow, if monsieur agrees," Avril said with a grin and a yawn.
"Wholeheartedly; sleep is calling for me as well," Lumière said. "Besides, if I remember correctly, tomorrow is laundry day and every maid on staff is needed for that considering how many people live here. You will need your rest."
"For one who is only in charge of the dining room, you certainly do know a lot about different schedules," Avril said.
Lumière smirked. "That comes from having friends in every place," he said. "A…" He paused awkwardly looking for the right words. "A…very good friend was previously on the same schedule as you are, therefore I know it very well."
"A lady friend perhaps?" Avril asked jokingly, though she quieted when he grew serious.
"Yes, actually," he said, blushing a bit.
Avril fell silent for a moment as the pieces slowly came together. A woman…the same schedule…his formerly cold nature…
"I…replaced her, didn't I?" she asked cautiously.
Lumière looked down solemnly. There were too many emotions racing around inside him to answer that completely. He had not smiled or laughed since Babette had left. Part of him felt wonderful to be doing so again; it was his true nature after all. But the other felt guilty. She was gone, probably as miserable as him, and here he was enjoying himself…with a woman, not to mention her replacement.
"That is not important right now," he said dismissively, offering a halfhearted smile.
Avril did not persist. He was just beginning to show her kindness, and she did not want to risk that by being impolite. "All right," she said slowly. "But if you ever do want to talk about it…I'll be here."
His smile grew genuine at her response. She was a lovely girl, very sweet and charming, certainly beautiful…
Hastily he stopped that line of thinking. "Oui, uh…merci, I will remember that," he said quickly. "For now…it is getting late." He took her hand and placed a gentleman's kiss on it. "Bonsoir, Avril."
Avril blushed at his actions, then nodded. "Bonsoir, Monsieur– "
"Lumière," he said softly. "Just Lumière."
Avril smiled. "Bonsoir, Lumière."
When she was gone, Lumière leaned against the counter and took a deep breath. What was he doing? Babette was still out there, and he was showing interest in another girl. Only a little over a month, and he was back to his old ways. It was not right!
…Or was it, he wondered. Was it…time to move on? Maybe Cogsworth was right, although Lumière hated to admit it. A few hours at the tavern after a fight was one thing; an entire month and a half of vanishing into thin air was another. If Babette wanted to be found, she would have made sure Lumière could find her. That was not the case this time.
But still…his heart belonged to Babette. He missed her with every fiber of his being, and it felt wrong to show a passing interest in another girl…even if Babette had made it clear that she no longer wanted him, he reminded himself bitterly.
Still…He looked at the door through which Avril had gone. Avril was kind, and sympathetic – she could at least be a friend. Comforted by that thought, he went to bed.
ooo
Babette smiled as the preacher proclaimed her Lumière's wife, and her smile broadened when her husband was told to kiss his new bride. But it faded as her veil was lifted, for there behind Lumière was Adrien. How could he dare to show his face here?
He placed his hand on Lumière's shoulder proudly. "At last," he said. "You give me something completely worthwhile: a son to who I can pass on everything I know."
Babette looked at Lumière pleadingly, grasping his hands. "Why are you just standing there? Do something! You swore he could not hurt me anymore!"
Lumière's expression darkened, very much resembling the man at his side…the man she feared the most. "When are you going to stop being a whining little pest? All you do is nag me to get what you want! You have gotten your wedding, is that not enough?"
Adrien grinned maliciously. "That's my boy. Put her in her place."
Babette took a step back as both men came toward her threateningly. "No…no, leave me alone…please just leave me alone…!"
"Babette, chérie, calm down!" Odette ordered gently. "Wake up!"
Babette's eyes snapped open, breathing heavily as she sat up. Nervously, she looked around the room for any sign of Adrien.
"You were dreaming again," Odette said. "What's this, the hundredth time since you've been here?"
As she did when she was younger, Babette sought comfort in her friend's embrace. After losing Celie, Odette had been the closest to a motherly presence in Babette's life.
"Believe me," Babette murmured tiredly, "I would love to stop them if I could."
Odette rubbed Babette's shoulder. "I know, I know. But we have to figure out a way to do that. You're going to be losing a lot of sleep pretty soon with the baby; you don't need dreams keeping you awake too."
"You do not need to tell me that twice."
"Don't worry, we'll figure something out," Odette replied, patting her hand…and noticing a ring that had not been there earlier. "What's this?" she asked.
Babette pulled her hand away quickly. When the dreams began, they had been more like memories, and she would wake up missing Lumière's loving presence. She had almost hoped putting the ring back on would make her feel better, a small reminder of how her life had once been. But truth be told, it had only brought on the nightmares as she remembered that life would in fact never be as she had hoped.
"It is nothing," she said, trying to pull it off and succeeding after a bit of a fight. Her fourth month had made her slightly larger than usual, as she was now eating for two.
Odette looked at her in disbelief. "A ring on the left hand's fourth finger is not just nothing. This man was more than a lover, wasn't he?"
Babette flopped gently onto her back, avoiding Odette's gaze. "Even if he was, what does it matter now?"
"Babette," Odette said, her tone firmly revealing that she would not play games. "You said you had a lover; you said nothing about being engaged! If he was just an ass who wanted you in his bed every night, then that's one matter. But this man is actually going to marry you, and you still ran away? That's an entirely different story, and one that could fix this problem!"
Babette looked up at her tearfully. "That is just the problem: he was going to marry me," she said.
"Was?"
"There was a chance that I was expecting years ago," Babette explained softly. "It was not the first time. He would always be ready with wedding plans, just in case, but when we found out it was only a scare, the plans would fade away while we went about life again. But that last time, after I told him all was well, he actually proposed, seeming to really mean it, and I was so happy!"
She could barely keep her voice steady. "Things happened, I told you, and when it was all over, I thought that meant we could follow through with our plans. But it was the farthest from his top priority. He kept pushing me aside, brushed me off whenever I would ask for a wedding date. The day I ran away, he yelled at me, accusing me of being selfish. If it were only me, maybe…maybe I would have waited longer. But the baby is not a scare this time, and I can not wait for him to give me an answer anymore. He used to be a man who followed his heart, but that has all changed. If he loved me, if he truly wanted this as much as I did, we would have been married already."
Odette reached out to hold her friend close, rocking her gently as Babette began to cry. "So, he was just stringing you along," she said sadly. "But then why did you keep the ring?"
"Call it the last bit of hope that I have left," Babette replied, wishful thinking abundant in her eyes though it was clear that she knew the truth.
Odette sighed sympathetically. "Sweetheart, nothing would make me happier than to see something come from that hope. But you know as well as I do that men don't come riding up on white horses to make things right. It's killing me to see you wasting yourself away over this man. It's time to start thinking of yourself; more so, think of your baby. If you don't let go and put yourself back on the right road, how can you be strong for this child as I know you want to be?"
"Then what do you suggest I do?" Babette asked.
"It's an engagement ring, but he won't follow through with the proposal," Odette said. "It clearly no longer has a purpose."
Babette frowned. "You are making this so much easier," she growled sarcastically.
"Trust me, I have a point," Odette promised. "Personally, I think it should go towards helping you and the baby; you deserve something for everything that's happened, after all."
"What do you mean?"
"Monsieur Bijoutier is still in business nearby," Odette suggested. "You remember how he'd always buy little knick-knacks and trinkets from us, oui?"
Babette looked at the ring uncertainly. "Odette…no, I could not. That is the most treasured thing that Lumière ever gave me."
Odette lifted Babette's chin to look her in the eye. "Chérie, seriously. He's not going to marry you; we both know that. In a few months, you are going to birth his child. You will have all the help you need from us, of course, but I say that you put this to better use. If you sell it, it will be money for raising the baby. Just think about it."
Babette looked hesitant, but it did make sense. If she rid herself of the ring, life would be a lot easier, and indeed, the money could go towards the baby. At least Lumière could contribute a small something towards his child, if nothing else, she thought.
That decision led them to Monsieur Bijoutier's shop the next morning, bright and early.
"Bonjour, mesdames," he greeted, overdone false kindness abundant in his words as Odette and Aubrey led the way, Babette following close behind.
The ladies could hardly suppress a sarcastic response. Like every other storeowner in Paris, the man frowned upon having any Fleurette in his shop. However, their jewelry offers always brought him quite a bit of money, and therefore, a front was needed to keep them happy enough to return.
"What have you brought me today?" he asked knowingly.
Odette nudged Babette forward. Babette swallowed gently, gripping the ring in her fist one last time before she turned it over.
Bijoutier examined it closely. "Hmm, I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "A little on the older side, five, six years at least, but that is style for you, changes by the minute. Still, old could always be new again." He looked up at Babette. "How much are you looking for?"
Babette named a price, attempting what she thought to be the air of a firm businesswoman.
Bijoutier raised an eyebrow. "For this?" he asked. "Try about half of that."
"What monsieur fails to realize," Odette interrupted, the blood of a merchant still within her, "is that we've already inquired about the ring elsewhere, and actually had offers for what my friend is asking. Nobles themselves have told us that with a nice polish it would be worth her price, if not more. We wanted to give you a chance to match their price, since we've done business with you before, but if you're not interested – " She turned to walk out.
"Wait." Odette turned. Bijoutier held her gaze, trying to determine if there was any truth behind her words. Odette looked impatient.
With a long-suffering air, he made a counter-offer. "Take it or leave it."
"Done," Babette agreed, watching a bit mournfully as he pocketed her ring and handed back the money in its place.
"Good girl," Aubrey said, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly as she and Odette led Babette outside. "It'll be all right."
Babette took a deep breath and nodded. "Oui, it will, you are right."
Aubrey grinned then looked at Odette teasingly. "But, Christ, Odette, nobles? That was a little much, don't you think?"
Odette laughed, "What can I say? It's a gift. Growing up in a merchant family, you learn a good bluff or two should you ever need one. Besides, seeing that man put in his place, even if it's just a good bargain, is a joy in itself!"
Babette smiled in spite of herself as she listened to the exchange. She should be happy; she was happy. Her past was at last behind her, and she could move on. That was a good thing…non?