As Enjolras left for his shift at Cafe Musain the next morning, he couldn't help but see the town the way Grantaire must after all these years. The main road was bustling as always, although some of the shops had turned over multiple times since Grantaire was last here. Up the road, and to the left was Thenardier's B&B, which offered a lovely view of the mountains. How it was still running would be a question for the ages. Perhaps it was the town's local charm that drew tourists in and gave them the patience needed to deal with the skeevy couple who ran the place. No one would ever know.
And although tourists were common enough, as well as the college students who attended Montfermeil College, the town was mostly made up of locals. People who Enjolras had known growing up his entire life. That isn't to say the small town didn't have a night life, if people knew where to look. A few miles away there were some local bars and clubs, one of which was the Corinth, where Enjolras worked most evenings. Finally, just down the rise there was the county hospital. All too easily Enjolras could picture it, the tall brick building with its well kept gardens and yards. He knew that right now his mother was probably going through chemo or some treatment, or perhaps she was reading. As Enjolras thought of his mother, a smile grew on his face. It was for her that he willingly did all this.
His smile dropped as soon as he entered the cafe. Already seated at the breakfast bar was Grantaire. Enjolras could recognize those dark curls anywhere.
"Morning Enjolras," Cosette said. "Here let me take your things. You have a visitor."
"Yes. I see that," Enjolras said stiffly.
"Well? Aren't you going to go over there," she nudged at him.
Enjolras blushed, and then shook his head. "I've got work."
"Don't be silly. I already told our boss that I would cover for you. So go talk, you've got half an hour," Cosette said cheerily.
Enjolras took a steadying breath and walked over to where Grantaire was slumped over a coffee.
"Good morning," Enjolras said sitting beside him.
Grantaire smiled. "It has been awhile, hasn't it."
Enjolras ducked his head, "yeah."
"So, tell me, why are you here? I thought that once you left for DC you never wanted to come back to Montfermeil unless your life depended on it," Grantaire said easily.
Enjolras' shoulders dropped. He gave an uncomfortable laugh. "It's not so much my life, as my mother's.'
Grantaire's easy nature was gone, and he just stared at Enjolras waiting for him to continue.
"She has cancer, Grantaire. Chronic Leukemia. I left school so that I could get a job to help pay the medical bills," Enjolras explained.
Grantaire let go of his breath. "I'm sorry, Enjolras. I didn't know..."
Enjolras gave him a grim smile, "well we weren't exactly on speaking terms the last time I saw you."
Grantaire's face darkened. "No, I guess we weren't."
There was a beat of silence as both men sat and thought. "And what about New York?"
Grantaire beamed, and Enjolras felt as if he were in familiar territories again. "It was life changing. I didn't know who I was or what I could be until I found that city. Everyone in my classes were so supportive of each other. I never knew what that was like. I also was able to intern at some really great galleries, and I've got my first big show in December."
Enjolras nodded. His sacrifice had been worth it, all his heartbreak and regret had gotten Grantaire to New York. Gotten him to live his dream. "That's wonderful. And Charla?"
Grantaire smiled cheekily. "Ah yes. We met at one of my first showcases. She absolutely detested my work, but she saw potential. She was the one who got me in contact with a bunch of galleries. Took me awhile, but I finally got the balls to ask her out."
"You're marrying someone who detests your work?" Enjolras asked, mildly confused.
Grantaire laughed easily. "She didn't really get it. She thought I could do much better. I guess one of the reasons I brought her to Montfermeil was to show her what inspired those pieces."
"And so that she could meet your parents," Enjolras tacked on.
Grantaire's smile widened. "That too. Course knowing my maman, she'll try to convince Charla to have a wedding here."
"But you don't want that?"
Grantaire shrugged. "I honestly don't care, but I know Charla would prefer a big wedding in the city. Something sophisticated, you know?"
"There are a lot of things you could say about Montfermeil, but sophisticated isn't exactly one of them," agreed Enjolras.
Grantaire scratched at his scruff. "Not so much has changed really. I see that the Thenardier's are still running their B&B...somehow. Are the kids still living at home?"
"Not quite. Eponine moved out to the old mill house a year or so ago. Took Gavroche along with her, but Azelma insisted on staying and working at the B&B," Enjolras explained.
"Well that's Zelma for you. I'm glad Eponine was able to move out though. What's she doing these days?"
"She was your best friend," Enjolras laughed. "Shouldn't you know?"
"Haven't really been in contact with anyone here since freshman year. Guess that explains why I never knew that you were back," Grantaire said thoughtfully.
"It wasn't exactly something I was proud of," Enjolras said under his breath, but Grantaire heard him.
"Yo Goldilocks! Bossman says you're break's up, and that Cosette isn't gonna cover for you anymore," Charlie said nodding at Enjolras.
"Excuse me, but I have to go back to work," Enjolras said gritting his teeth at the nickname.
Grantaire just laughed. "Whatever Goldilocks. I hope to see more of you around."
Enjolras just nodded, unsure how to respond, and returned to work.
After a hurried lunch, Enjolras rode his bike down the main road towards his second job. Feuilly's bike shop was a major attraction to tourists as it contained a bit of everything. There were vintage bikes that Feuilly had fixed up and repainted, that could be rented out to tour the town. Then there were the garden pieces and modern art sculptures created from bikes too rusted to fix. And from all those spare parts he was able to create clocks and boxes and jewelry. There was a little bit of everything in that store.
The shop's big glass window let in plenty of natural light, which was perfect for the tiny succulents growing in some baskets attached to pastel bikes. Enjolras adored looking after the plants, whether it was the succulents sitting contentedly in their pots or the vines that managed to grow and curl up along the repurposed metal, Enjolras found it calming. And although the hand painted sign simply read Bicycles in a swirling font, there were so many plants that it was considered by most a garden store. Either way the shop was already bustling with activity, and when he entered Feuilly gave him a big wave.
"Thank god you're here! Can you finish ringing up Mrs. Aldrich here, I've got loads of work to do in the back to finish this custom order by tomorrow," Feuilly said apologetically.
Enjolras nodded, and easily took on the role of cashier. He managed to help four customers before Grantaire entered his mind again, and this time it was in the form of his mother.
"Oh, hello dear," Helene said stepping up to the register. "I didn't know you worked here too."
Enjolras shrugged. He found it so odd looking at Helene as she shared so many traits with her only son. "I hope Charla and Grantaire are enjoying their stay."
Helene shook her head ruefully. "Charla doesn't seem fond of the suburbs, but Augustin and I are determined to change her mind. We are thinking of taking her to the church this afternoon to see what she thinks of it. Think how lovely a summer wedding would be. And in the same church he was baptized in..."
"Will this be all?" Enjolras asked gesturing at the potted ferns and geraniums.
"I suppose so. Tell me, you and R were close once, what do you think of his fiancee?"
Enjolras' jaw dropped. "It's really not my place to say."
"But?" pressed Helene.
"Well," swallowed Enjolras, "if she makes him happy, and really cares about him then who am I to judge?"
Helene's expression softened. "Jeanne raised you well. You have grown up to be such a charming and respectful young man, Enjolras. I'm sure one day you'll meet the man of your dreams."
Enjolras merely nodded, returning her change. He didn't bother to tell her that the already had.
It was late when Enjolras had finished his shift. He had helped Feuilly close up the shop, and the conversation had been easy between the two friends. Mostly they chatted about books they had been reading, and what they thought the other might like. It was a nice change from the concerned looks that Courfeyrac had been giving him at home or the bright twinkling eyes of Cosette at work. Feuilly wasn't concerned by the fact that Grantaire was back, he was merely glad for the good company at work.
After Enjolras had left he got on his bicycle, a present from Feuilly that had been painted red, and rode down the hill to where the hospital was located. Visiting hours were almost over, but the staff knew the blond well and were willing to allow him extra time with his mother.
Just as he suspected, Enjolras found his mother reading a book when he entered her hospital room. Her eyes widened in surprise as a smile grew on her thin face.
"I thought you couldn't come tonight," Jeanne said embracing her son.
"I can always make time to come visit you, maman," Enjolras said kissing her forehead. Once upon a time her head had been covered in the same golden curls as her son, but now those were gone. Gone too was her round face, these days it was nearly as slim and angular as his own. There were dark circles under her eyes, but even those could not dim how brightly they shone in the presence of her son.
"And what about that paper for your online course?" Jeanne tried to frown, but the smile that was tugging at her lips made it impossible.
"It can wait," he assured her.
Jeanne snorted. "I'm sure."
"How have the drugs been?"
Jeanne looked away. "You know I don't like them."
"I know, but has the nausea gone down at least?"
She looked so frail as she looked up at him, "yes. Although I am feeling more and more tired. I wish..."
"I know. There are a lot of things to wish for," Enjolras said sitting on the bed beside her.
Jeanne cocked her head, squinting at him. "And what has you so down?"
Enjolras shook his head, "it isn't important."
"Ange, if it's bothering you then it is important," Jeanne said running her bird like hands through her son's hair. She forced him to look her in the eye, "if it's money-"
His eyes widened. "No. It has nothing to do with paying for your medicine. It's-"
"Grantaire?!"
Enjolras' brows furrowed, but then he turned to look behind him and standing in the doorway was none other than Grantaire. In his hands were a bouquet of wildflowers.
"Hello Jeanne," he said entering the room. "Am I interrupting?"
"What are you doing here?" Enjolras tried his best to keep from sounding accusatory, but he failed.
"You will find that I can be quite charming if I want," Grantaire smiled.
Jeanne shook her head merrily. "I didn't expect to see you by my sick bed."
Grantaire set the flowers down before going to lean on the windowsill. "I only just found out you were sick today. I ran into Enjolras at the Musain."
Jeanne nodded. "You didn't need to bring flowers. What use does a dead woman have for flowers?"
"Maman! Don't speak that way," begged Enjolras.
Jeanne shook her head, "I know you wish I had your fighting spirit. And yet sometimes I think it would be easier to just stop fighting. Then you could leave and go back to law school and you wouldn't have to work so many jobs..."
Grantaire noted how Enjolras' grip on his mother's hand tightened and there was a new tension in his jaw.
"Perhaps I ought to go," Grantaire offered.
"Nonsense. Are you still drawing, R?"
"Yes ma'am," Grantaire answered.
"I should like to see your drawings someday," Jeanne said wistfully. "Tell me you'll visit again. And with your sketch book?"
"Maman, Grantaire is here with his fiancee I'm sure-"
"I'd love to," R replied.
And at the same time Jeanne exclaimed, "Fiancee!?"
Grantaire blushed. "Yes. I've finally found someone to settle for me."
"Oh hush. Do you let your mother here you talk in such self deprecating ways? I'm sure they're absolutely lovely," Jeanne sighed. "I just wish Enjolras would find someone before I'm gone."
"So you're not dating anyone?" Grantaire asked directing his attention to Enjolras.
"No..." he couldn't bring himself to say that when he was in DC he had tried to. He had tried to forget about Grantaire by dating someone else, but it just hadn't felt right. None of it did, and now it was too late.
Grantaire smiled down at Jeanne. "I'm sure Enjolras will manage to find someone. After all, he inherited your good looks~"
Weakly Jeanne swatted at Grantaire's arm. "Don't be mad. I look like a ghost."
"Maybe, but a very beautiful and ethereal ghost," Grantaire teased.
"I should go," Enjolras said a bit reluctantly.
The light in Jeanne's eyes faded. "I'll see you tomorrow?" She sounded so small.
Enjolras bent down to kiss her forehead again. "Of course."
As he left he heard his mother say, "now this fiancee of yours, what are they like?"
He turned and saw that Grantaire was sitting by his mother, phone out and was seemingly showing her some photos of them together. It was a touching scene, one that Enjolras was reluctant to leave. But then again, he did have a paper to get done. He turned his back on their laughter and strode away through the ill lit hallways of the hospital.
Hey guys! Thanks for the support. I changed a few sentences in the last chapter mostly to make it less awkward, but the main idea didn't really change. Please, please, please let me know what you think. Even though this au is set in America I still like to keep the French ties to the book, such as giving my ocs french names and using the french word for mother. Also funny note Charla means 'free man' which I think is a very appropriate name for the woman who managed to steal R's heart from Enjolras. Anyway any comments or constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks for reading and I'll see you next time! ~T.W.o.W.