Sorry this is super short, but I'm moving next week and am trying to write as much as I can before I go. Expect shorter updates, and/or a small hiatus. Thank you for your patience!
Eponine woke up early as she had house guests coming. Last night she had taken Gavroche over to Feuilly's, and had gotten him settled there. Of course the teenager was excited to be spending the next few weeks with the other man, which helped ease Eponine's conscience. However she still felt guilty, and wished her brother could have stayed to help calm her in all the madness. But now was no time for feeling bad. She had work to do.
She aired out all the guest rooms, and made sure the beds were made. She also stripped both her and Gavroche's beds and put fresh sheets on them. She made sure the bathrooms were clean and had fresh towels, all before getting into a shower. She was exhausted and it wasn't yet ten o'clock. She had prepared refreshments the previous night, and only had just begun setting them out when there was a knock on her door.
She went to it to find Dianne and Louisette standing outside of two waiting cabs.
"You took a cab from New York City...to here?" Eponine asked.
Louisette giggled. "Of course!"
"It was nothing," Dianne added coolly.
Louisette winked at her driver, an older man, "I made sure to tip him well."
Eponine gagged slightly. "Um let me show you in."
"Aren't you going to get our bags?" Dianne asked. As soon as the words were out of her mouth Louisette's driver hopped out of his car and carried her three bags and five boxes out of his trunk.
"Where do you want them?" he addressed this to Eponine.
"First door down the hall on the left," Eponine replied.
"Ahem. What about mine?" Dianne was tapping her foot.
"You've got arms, carry them yourself," Eponine retorted.
Dianne huffed. "You little cunt."
Eponine frowned. "I'm letting you stay in my house, for free. I'm letting you eat my food, take over the only peaceful home I've ever known, so you might want to treat me with a bit more respect. Else you may find yourself sleeping outside, or worse. I may not have liked living with my parents, but they taught me a thing or two about hospitality."
Dianne's face scrunched up about to say something else but Eponine merely walked away.
"Oh Eponine, your home is so lovely," cooed Louisette. "Perfect spot to host an orgy."
"Excuse me?"
Louisette giggled. "Oh yes, nice open floor plan, plenty of soft surfaces to lounge on...you and I could be great friends."
"Um, thanks but no thanks. I've got plenty of friends already."
Louisette shrugged like it didn't matter to her either way. Eponine shook her head, what was with these women?
And so began the next two weeks of Eponine's life which she would later call the Hell Weeks. Soon after both Catherines arrived in all their splendor, having rented a limousine. Their chatter filled the house, giggling at everything from the art Eponine had on her walls (some of Grantaire's earliest pieces), to her taste in furniture.
Cynthia arrived next, turning her nose up at everything. When she saw her room, she asked for a bigger one. When she saw the bathroom accommodations for the seven women, she laughed. She blatantly ignored Eponine's food and instead paged through her fashion magazine.
Mary-Lynn came last, a spectacle to behold. Of all the women she had the most boxes and bags. She complimented Eponine's home with large gestures and an air of southern charm. She stated how kind Eponine was, and how sweet while secretly thinking she would have been a better hostess. When she discovered that she was to be sleeping in Eponine's room she grinned.
"Does this mean we shall be sharing a room?" She sounded both eager and scandalized.
"I shall be taking the couch."
"Oh I couldn't deprive the maid of honor her bed!" exclaimed Mary-Lynn. "We must share!"
"No really that's alright," Eponine mumbled.
"If we're talking bedrooms, I want a different one."
"What's wrong with yours, Cynthia?" asked Louisette rolling her eyes.
"It's clearly a kid's room," Cynthia said in disgust. "A kid's room for a little boy."
"It's my brother's. He's fourteen-"
"That's even worse!" screeched Cynthia. "I refuse to sleep in the same room as a teenager."
"He isn't here. He's at a friend's," Eponine berated.
"No. I demand to switch."
"I'll take it, if you want the couch."
Cynthia glared at her. "Some hostess you are."
Eponine shrugged. It was going to be a long day.
Meanwhile a much happier reunion was happening in the midst of JFK International Airport. At the crack of dawn, Grantaire and his parents had driven into the city to pick up their guests. Bianca was coming home.
Miraculously they didn't have to wait long, and soon they saw Bianca running to them. Her dark wavy locks were streaming behind her, a smile lighting up her face. Walking behind her, with an amused smirk on her lips, was Bianca's girlfriend, Floreal. She was smaller than Grantaire's sister, with russet hair and hazel eyes. The look in her eyes was one of pure adoration, as if the nerves of meeting her partner's family had not occurred to her.
Bianca was pulled into a hug by both her parents, murmuring words of love to each. As she pulled away she looked at Grantaire. She smiled before practically launching herself into his arms.
"It's been too long!" she exclaimed.
He smiled, breathing in her scent. "I missed you too, Bi."
She pulled away. "Omigod! I can't believe I was so rude. Mom, dad, this is Floreal, my girlfriend."
Helene and Augustin shook Floreal's hand, respecting the French tradition that reserved hugs for the most intimate of moments. She smiled, and with a heavy accent said, "it is so nice to meet you. I can see where Bianca gets her looks."
Augustin chuckled. "From her mother surely."
"Oh no, monsieur, there is much of you in her too. Of this I am sure."
"And this is my big brother, Grantaire." Bianca said, steering the red head towards her brother.
"Please call me, R." Grantaire said pleasantly.
"And the first thing he says to me is a pun," muttered Floreal. "Incroyable."
Bianca rolled her eyes. "I told you he would."
Grantaire just grinned. He took Floreal's bags, as his father did the same with Bianca's, and began leading them to where they had parked.
"So tell me, how did you two girls meet?" Helene asked wrapping an arm around her daughter.
Bianca smiled warmly. "Floreal works for the ballet company I am interning with. You should see her dance. She's gorgeous."
Floreal laughed. "Except for when I fall off pointe because this beautiful girl is staring at me from the wings. Mon dieu was that embarrassing!"
The family chuckled warmly.
"I still can't believe you got an internship at the Opera Nationale de Paris," Grantaire said in awe.
"Well maybe if you ever came to visit me you would," teased Bianca kindly.
Grantaire blushed. "You know I am busy."
"Of course, brother mine. But I would love for you to see some of the work we are doing. Soon we shall start work on Madama Butterfly," sighed Bianca in ecstasy.
"From the way she talks about it, you would think Puccini is her favorite composer," Floreal said dryly.
"As if you don't love him too," Bianca shot back.
"No dear, you know I prefer Tchaikovsky," Floreal's eyes burned bright.
Bianca kissed her on the cheek. "You ballet dancers are all the same."
Grantaire watched the two young women contentedly, with only a small pang of sorrow. If only… but no. He had made his choice.
"And where is your lovely fiancee?" Bianca asked, interrupting his train of thought.
Grantaire smiled carefully. "She was not feeling to well this morning."
"Nothing serious, I hope," Floreal added.
"No." Charla had made R swear not to tell anyone about the pregnancy, at least not until after the wedding. She didn't want people to gossip.
"Wouldn't have been room in the car, anyway," Augustin added. "Unless we strapped one of you kids to the roof."
Bianca hit her father lightly. "That stopped being a threat a long time ago, papa."
Augustin chuckled. "Can't a father reminisce about when his children still laughed at his jokes?"
"We do laugh," Bianca added. "That one just wasn't particularly funny."
"Grantaire?" the man asked turning to his son for a second opinion.
Grantaire shrugged. "Sorry, but I think I have to take Bianca's side in things."
The young woman beamed.
"Oh you have him wrapped around your little finger," Floreal noted.
Bianca and Helene laughed. The elder adding, "when Bianca was born you would not have seen a more doting older brother. He was always asking to hold the baby even though he was only four at the time."
"So if I act stupid, we say it's cause R dropped me on the head," whispered Bianca confidentially.
Grantaire shook his head. "I never dropped you, and you know it. If you hit your head it was because you were too busy chasing after me and didn't notice whatever was in your path."
"I did chase after you quite a bit." She conceded.
"You were mad for him, Bianca. Wouldn't do anything without him," Augustin added kindly.
"Welcome to the family," she laughed turning to Floreal.
The red head smiled before linking elbows with Grantaire. "I feel welcome already."
The car ride back was filled with idle chatter. Bianca explained her internship in greater detail, Floreal often cutting in to make sure Bianca wasn't underselling herself. They both asked Grantaire about how the wedding planning was coming, and what it was like to be home again. They made for a nice little group, and in a confined space such as a car where patience can run short, they had plenty. Bianca and Grantaire made plans for the two couples to go out to dinner, as a way for her to get to know her future sister-in-law better. Finally the conversation turned to general catching up.
"And how are our friends?" Bianca asked.
"Our?" Grantaire asked with a smirk.
"Fine, yours." She rolled her eyes.
"I don't understand?" Floreal said.
"When she was younger, Bi insisted on hanging out with my friends. She was insane, needed to be the center of attention," Grantaire said not unfondly. "Anyway my friends are great, not that I've seen many of them."
"Eponine?"
"She and Gavroche are doing wonderfully. I had forgotten how much I missed her," Grantaire said softly. "She really was my best friend."
Bianca smiled. "I remember her helping me get ready for my first date. She was like an older sister to me."
"Really? I didn't know that," commented Helene.
Bianca flushed. "It wasn't a big deal, just some girl from my French class."
"That was sweet of her to help," Helene murmured.
Bianca nodded. "Anyway, what about Baz?"
"Haven't seen him much, been pretty busy," confessed Grantaire with regret.
"And Enjolras?"
Silence.
"Who is Enjolras?" Floreal asked looking at her girlfriend.
Bianca smiled. "He was Grantaire's friend throughout middle school, and long time high school boyfriend. He was my first crush."
"What?" Grantaire stared at his sister.
She shrugged. "He was always around at our house when I was younger, not nearly as much as Eponine and Baz but still. Anyway he came over one day while you were still with Ep and asked to wait to see you. Then he indulged my fancy and let us play house. He really was a very sweet kid."
"How old were you?"
"Um I was six maybe seven...so you guys were about ten?"
Grantaire blushed. "Oh my god, why did you never tell me this?"
"I was six, R, it wasn't like a serious thing. Besides it became pretty clear that you had a crush on him, so I wasn't gonna do anything to mess that up." Bianca retorted.
"Oh my god," whined Grantaire. "How is it possible that we both have had a crush on the same guy."
"Oh relax," Bianca laughed. "We were kids then, I didn't know I was into girls and he didn't know he was into boys. It's the past, R, it doesn't matter."
"No one can find out. He wouldn't let me hear the end of it," Grantaire said mock desperately.
This sent Bianca into another peal of giggles. "Alright, alright. So have you seen him?"
"Yeah," Grantaire said surprisingly softly. "I've been to see Jeanne too."
"How is she?"
"She doesn't have a lot left in her," Grantaire sighed. "But I think she is holding out to see Enjolras married."
Bianca nodded. "Is he dating anyone?"
Grantaire swallowed. "Not seriously, but yeah. I think he is."
"And you're good with that?" Suddenly it was like no one else was in the car. Helene and Augustin stared out the windshield, and Floreal was impossibly still.
"Of course, why wouldn't I be? God, Bi, I'm getting married in two weeks to someone else," Grantaire exclaimed.
"I know, I just thought that after finding out about the email-"
"Finding out about what email?"
She stared at him. "He hasn't told you."
"Who hasn't told me what?"
Her eyes widened. "But I would have thought...after all this time surely?"
"Bianca, I don't understand." Grantaire said desperately. "What are you talking about?"
She looked at him again, realizing that she had said too much. She let out a laugh, a little too forced, too loud, before saying, "this is better than an opera."