"Well, they're the ones who started it."
Baby Henri yawned, fat fist drawing up to his mouth he sucked on the cranberry red yarn of his winter mitten sleepily.
Belle re-tucked the blanket around the drowsy boy that sat on her leg, her thick woolen cloak sheltering him to ward off the snowfall. "Did you have a good nap?" She asked softly, tugging down his little knit cap.
Henri pressed his cheek against her dress as he settled closer. All sleepy yawns and soft murmurs.
"That's a yes." She translated for Ansell, though any amusement towards her son waking up quickly dissipated. "And getting back to the original topic, just because they started it doesn't mean you should join in." Shaking her head she gazed at him with some reproachfulness.
"He said my accent was funny. And then he did an impression of it." her husband huffed in a cloud of warm air, flicking the reins to urge the horses forward. The thin crust of snow churned up over the skis of the sleigh as their house drew closer in the blue landscape. "That's the rudest thing I've ever heard. And I don't care if he's from up North."
"Still doesn't mean you should get angry and tell him his accent's funny." She pointed out.
"Well, to me it is."
"Everyone's accent is the same here, we're the foreigners." Belle reminded. "And please stop speaking French in front of people who don't know the language."
"But how am I supposed to call them terrible things to their face when they're being utterly awful and then watch you try not to laugh?" Listening to a babble of nouns, Ansell glanced down at his son. Round little face peeking out from under Belle's heavy cloak. "He looks warm."
"He was better behaved than you," Belle told him.
"He's always better behaved than me." Flashing a cheeky smirk, it got the desired effect.
Rolling her eyes to the truth Belle rubbed Henri's back, thickly wrapped in layers of warm clothing. "Funny accents aside. It was a really nice luncheon."
"It was. It was nice to see to everyone and talk about spending Noel with the family." He slowed the horses as they approached the barn. "Whoa, whooooa. Easy boys." Turning to her, had his slightly lopsided, somewhat dopey smile of excitement across his handsome features.
She furrowed her brows at him.
"Do you not recall last year?" Ansell hinted to his wife. "Because I vividly remember you being very pretty at the party while I held you in the parlor. And he kicked under our hands and we talked about the next Noel."
Belle's eyes lit up, lovely mouth pulling into a smile as the sleigh stopped with a gentle lurch. Carefully she set Henri in a wicker basket, covering it with a thick quilt. "The first one with all of us together."
"The first one with the three of us." He exhaled, happy at the idea. Pausing, letting the air breathe while he jumped to the ground, he mused over a new idea. "Do you ever think about how he'll sound?" Her husband asked as he helped her down. "I suppose his accent may be different, after all, he'll grow up with two languages."
"No, I hadn't." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she looked down at her boots for a moment. "Honestly I try not to think too much about him growing up. I'd like to enjoy the moments with him that are happening right now." Reaching over, she began to unbuckle the horses from the rig.
"Oh Darling, you can just take him inside-"
"It'll only take a minute with the two of us." She kept working on the buckles and straps. "Henri's plenty warm in his basket, and I thought we could go check on Papa afterward."
Ansell nodded his head to the side, mulling it over. "Suppose we should make sure his new stove hasn't set the whole place on fire."
Belle scoffed. "Excuse me?"
"What?" She looked as if he had deeply offended her "It's a valid concern! There's so much paper and solvent in that little room all you'd have to do is light a match and the whole thing would go up like a pile of straw."
" I'm the one who installed it." Belle reminded him somberly, leading one of the horses to their paddock.
"Touché, Madame."
"If it burns down, it's not because of the stove." His wife announced defensively.
They finished putting away the horses and sleigh quickly. Belle dusting herself off and taking Henri's sling that was hanging crossways on her body. Peeling back his warm blanket she used the sling to secure him on her hip.
"There we go, Son." She said as she made sure his little boots were pulled up, Henri naturally molding against her and snuggling in. "I think you're more padding than baby at this point."
Herni heaved a dramatic sigh, more than content to be against Maman. He was a cuddly boy and often stilled as soon as he was strapped or pressed against someone.
"Well come on, slow pokes." Her husband teased, his big strides clearing more crunchy ground and leaving deep gouges in the snow pack. I'm going to beat-"
The snowball struck his shoulder, exploding out into powder, making his stop dead in his tracks.
Henri giggled.
Turning, he saw the grinning baby and his mother, who was clearly surprised hitting him would elicit such a reaction from the little one. Scowling, he raised a brow at her. "Really? "
"You called us slow." She chuckled.
Rolling his eyes, he turned and walked closer towards the little art studio next to their house. The warm glow of candles radiating from the windows.
The second snowball hit the back of his neck.
As soon as he jumped and yelped Henri shrieked with delight. Little stubs peeking in through his gums that flashed in a smile, Maman having to support his back when he flung himself backward and was in danger of tumbling out of his sling.
"That's not funny!" Her love whirled around, Belle nearly doubled over practically in tears while both of them laughed hysterically.
"He thinks it is." She giggled out, covering her mouth to try and stop. However, Henri's deep, long belly laughs were infectious.
Ansell scooped a palmful of snow up, a wicked grin that craved revenge spreading over his face.
Belle, still giggling, pulled Henri up to her chest. "You wouldn't hit a child now would you?"
His face slacked, and his brows dropped in a low line above the blue eyes. The snow tumbled out through his fingers and pattering onto the ground. "You play dirty." Her husband grumbled.
"I'm just trying to keep my little one from catching a chill." The mischievous brown eyes taunted him as she kissed her laughing babe's forehead. "Aren't I, Henri?"
Henri, all smiles and silliness, caught his breath against her neck.
Hesitating, Ansell narrowed his gaze at her. "You better not again." He growled, slowly turning around and walking more quickly. More than ready to retreat to safety he reached to take the door handle.
It hit in the back of the head.
Henri sounded like he was about to die of laughter when Ansell let out a startled bark and nearly fell into the snowdrift that had piled up on the side of the building. Cap flying off his head and bouncing off the door it landed with a cloud of white dust kicking up and hitting him in the face. "BELLE!"
Belle grabbed at her aching sides, Henri wriggling and squealing in delight. "He loves it so much!" She gasped in amusement.
"IT'S NOT-"
Maurice opened the door, looking at Ansell, snow on his ear as he dusted off his cap.
"Oh. Hello, Father." He grumbled, quickly sliding inside.
He peered out at Belle and Henri, still laughing at his son-in-law's expense and unable to move. "Are you two coming in or not?" Turning, he watched Ansell stomp his boots and try to get the snow off of his neck. "I take it you took a pelting?"
"It seems they both find my discomfort amusing." He grumbled, peeling off his gloves while Belle came in and his family caught their collective breath.
Maurice tried his best not to chuckle at Henri's fat cheeked grin.
"It's not my fault he finds it funny." Belle said, her laughing dying off into giggles.
"But you don't have to keep doing it!" He lamented, raising his hands up in frustration. Stalking over to her, Ansell was nearly ready to continue griping when he saw his son's joyous face. The big gray eyes gazing up at him happily, gummy little mouth beaming up at him, tummy jiggling as his wife removed his thick coat. Henri thrust a hand out and reached for him, and Ansell's heart crumbled into a million pieces. It always did. "Did you think hitting Papa with snow was funny?" He asked, moving in and pulling the wee cap off, running his fingers back through the fluffy brown hair to cup the back of the boy's head and kiss the little forehead. "You're so silly." He smiled, nuzzling gently to get a giggle as Henri patted at his beard.
"I would hope so, he's your baby." Watching the two while Ansell lifted Henri out of her arms and set him on the crook of his arm her boys found their rhythm with one another. Her Ansell being so attentive and precious with their son. It turned heads in the village, but she knew as a father he could care less.
"I like being reminded that." Pulling the tiny mittens off as Henri tittered and prattled on he pecked a little curled fist that bumped against his mouth. "I suppose I can forgive you, my son." Arching a brow he glanced over at his wife. "You on the other hand-"
"It's really toasty in here, Papa." Looking around art's studio and smiling warmly, her complete ignoring of her husband's grumbling was met with an even longer face she still would not react to. They had built the studio shortly after moving into the house. Made of stone, wood, and some reclaimed windows and other bits it was cozy but big enough for Maurice's easel, a large work bench for crafting and sculpting, and several large shelves and cases of supplies. The studio had a beautiful view of the countryside, facing just so for perfect natural light. And the inside was full of paintings, sketchings, and other artwork. Many of it doodles of her son at play and rest, making her grateful so many precious moments had been recorded as Henri grew.
"Yes," Maurice shuffled over to his little stove, opening the door and adding a log. "It's certainly helped with the winter, last year I could barely come in here and work."
"How are your joints?" She asked, blowing on her hands to warm them up from all of the snowballs.
"Not affected by the cold." Looking past her, he saw Ansell's gaze locked on Belle, trying to plot some kind of fairly harmless yet still satisfying vengeance. "I say your little modification was a huge success."
"I'm glad I could help." Wandering over to his easel, she inspected his latest painting. "I thought you had a commission?"
"Oh, that's just a warm up." Nodding pointedly at the door to Ansell, he quietly walked over. "I have the whole project planned out on that sketch pinned to the easel." Carefully he took Henri, patting his back to get his cooing grandson to settle.
Belle studied the sketch intently, envisioning the final piece.
The door groaned open.
Turning around her eyes widened when she saw Maurice with Henri holding the door open as Ansell rushed her. Letting out a shriek, she didn't have time to fight back from being scooped up. "Let me go!"
Ansell hauled her out of the studio, laughing, Henri letting out a peal of laughter behind him.
"Ansell, this isn't funny put me dow-" Seeing where he was taking her the brown eyes went wide. "NO!"
"Oh, I'll let go!" Flinging her out of his arms, he watched her land into the snow drift. Slapping his knee, turning to see Maurice holding back a guffaw with Henri squealing in amusement. "Look! He thinks it's funny!"
Belle scowled at him, hauling herself out of the hill of snow.