Disclaimer: I do not own.

Broken Chains

Chapter Two: Ain't What You Got

Love is what you want when you want somebody.
What do you want when you got somebody?
It ain't what you got, you gave it all up.

- Give, Crowfield

"Frost," Gambit said through the communicator outside her room, "A word?"

"Busy, Cajun."

"Get your damn clothes on, femme, and get out here. I ain't got all day."

There was a pause and then she opened the door. Although she only wore a white thong, she leaned easily against the doorframe and waited for him to enter. He brushed against her as he walked into her room, which was dark and smelled of sex. The bed sheets were disheveled, with all the pillows knocked to the ground. She hadn't tried to conceal her activities very well, but he suspected that was her game. She was either flaunting her conquest or trying to annoy him with her sexuality, knowing Rogue was so inaccessible. Not bothering to cover her bare breasts, she sat in front of an eight-foot high mirror and brushed her flawless, platinum hair. Her partner was in the adjacent bathroom taking a shower.

"Cyke don't mind you lettin' in men lookin' like dat?" asked Gambit, "Or is your relationship not dat serious?"

"Tsk, tsk, honey. You're starting to sound like Wolverine. Besides, I know this how you've always imagined me."

"I didn't come for sloppy seconds. I came t' tell you t' keep outta Honor's head. I know you t'ink you were helpin' her, but de point of her bein' here is t' figure t'ings out for herself. You feedin' her all de answers ain't helpin' her at all. It's makin' her dependent on you, and no one needs dat."

Emma set down her hair brush and looked at him, sitting forward slightly so that her breasts looked larger. "You're not interested in her vision? It concerned you and a woman who wants you dead. Could be your next wife."

Gambit heard the shower turn off and then the curtain pull back. Unless he wanted to risk an eyeful of Scott naked and then an earful about the impropriety of being "alone" with Emma in her bedroom, he didn't have time for her games.

"Stay outta her head. I ain't tellin' you again."

…

I waited for Papa down the hall and around the corner. If he was concerned about my premonition, he never showed it. This confrontation with Ms. Frost was the first he'd spoken about it, and I was eager to share my knowledge with him. He'd been avoiding me for days, but now he was apparently ready to discuss it.

"Jesus!" he gasped when he rounded the corner and saw me. "What're you doin' in de instructors' hall?"

"I – I-" Why was he so angry to see me? "I wanted to talk to you. About my vision."

"You ain't s'post t' be here! Jesus Christ, do you have t' follow me around like-!"

I turned and ran.

"Petite, wait!"

I didn't speak to him for two days. The guilt ate at my belly like an ingested worm. He only seemed relieved to be rid of me. I hated him. I hated the way he made me feel. Momma tried to compensate for his absence, as usual. It was easier done without his interference: the way he'd walk through a room without speaking to me or talk to Rogue about me as if I were a ghost. Momma constantly told me not to be disrespectful, and I began to resent her positive outlook. I wanted her to hate him with me.

The second day the sun set on my anger, I had to get away. I crawled out my window onto the roof.

One thing Louisiana and New York have in common: retractable weather. In New Orleans, it's not at all uncommon to have a hot day peak in between a cold week. Winter might creep in and fade away like an uninvited guest. I discovered that in New York, spring was the party crasher. It already made a brief appearance, but now the snow returned. During the day, the sun bravely beat down white chunks of snow into water puddles. The sky was blue and full of pleasant white clouds. But at night, the water froze again. I watched twilight birth the battle of the elements. Stars emerged and twinkled like frozen diamonds. The cold night showed no mercy to my exposed arms and neck. I perversely enjoyed the pain: both inside and out.

Tante Ro was circling the school property on frigid winds. We noticed each other simultaneously, and she dropped to sit beside me.

"Child, why ever are you out here alone? Where is your coat?"

The air around me warmed.

"Neat trick," I commented.

"What is it about the night that calls to us?" She looked up and away. "I defy any creature to resist the lure of the Moon Goddess. One cannot help but yearn for her protection from the all-seeing Sun. She is the one who gives us the freedom to rest. We are free under Her. I do believe that is why your father feels such attachment to the night. She alone has accepted him as he is."

"Tryin' t' make me feel sorry for him?"

Before anymore was said, we heard a scream in the distance. A woman. In the forest.

Tante Ro and I leapt to our feet. She is as graceful as a gazelle and never stumbles. If she ever did, she had the winds to lift her without incident. I had no such skill. Worse, when she warmed me, the snow under me melted. The sudden shift in weight loosened my footing, and I slipped with all the grace of a three-legged elephant. I flew off the roof before the panic set in and slammed onto the snowy ground.

"Honor! Are you alright?"

"Fine, Tante Ro," I groaned. A sharp pain shot through my legs and I blacked out.

…

When I re-emerged from my pain induced slumber, I found Momma sitting on my bed. Her bright blue eyes were surrounded by a lot of white and worry.

"Hank! She's awake!"

He calmly approached and smiled. "Trying to set a record, Miss LeBeau?"

"Bet no one's ever been expelled for too many hospital visits, huh?"

He laughed jovially. "My good friend, Bobby Drake, once attempted to get expelled for freezing the entire sick ward, and in those days, I was much more nonchalant. I recall finding the incident quite comical. If expulsion is your goal, I can assure you that's the method to use."

Rogue slowly came into view. "Hey, sugah, how ya feelin'?"

"Okay, I guess." I looked to Dr. McCoy.

"No lasting damage," he said with a broad smile. "You will be a little sore in the coming days, but if you experience any stiffness or numbness, let me know immediately. I'll give Ms. Belle some medicine to help with the pain, and I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon."

I looked around the room.

"Where's Papa?"

Momma and Rogue looked guiltily at each other, silently exchanging some secret.

"Ororo says dere was a scream before you fell," said Momma. "Turns out, it was a young lady bein' hunted by some friends."

"Friends of Humanity," Dr. McCoy corrected.

"Right. She was headed towards de school for protection."

"Is she okay?" I asked.

"Oh, oui, chere. A little shaken, but you know your father's always willin' t' help a damsel in distress."

"Is dat where he is?" I pressed, returning to my original question.

Rogue and Dr. McCoy looked at the floor in silence. The anger crept up my throat like a burning snake. I wanted to explode in rage and die with sorrow at the same time.

"Why is he wit' her?"

"Calm down," Momma snapped in that 'don't-you-dare-embarrass-me' tone. "He came by t' see how you were, but dere ain't nothin' he could do f' you. Dat's Dr. McCoy's job. Foxx needs t' be debriefed and enrolled, and dat's somet'ing he can do."

I could have told my mother that "Foxx" had many teachers to assist her, but I had only one father. She would have responded that I needed to grow up; my father couldn't always be around to hold my hand. I would have asked her how she could always take his side. Instead, I decided to end the argument prematurely. The end result would be the same: he would not see me. Rogue would scold him until he felt like a speckle. Momma would hate him a little more, but keep it hidden. All her hate would never deter her loyalty from my father. Why? He had never shown her such dependability.

Twenty minutes later, I left the sick ward.

Papa was standing in the hall with his back to me. He had come to see me after all! I wanted to run to him, throw my arms around him. All would be forgiven. Then I saw that he was only speaking Ms. Frost. She had come to see me, and he had come to stop her. They froze upon my presence.

"Ah, just the young lady I was looking for," Ms. Frost said.

"How you feelin'?" Gambit asked me.

"No worries. A little let-down won't finish me off." I felt the anger rise again. I hoped he would catch the double-meaning and snap at me. If he did, he said nothing. I turned to Ms. Frost as if he weren't there. "You want me t' meet Foxx and tell you if she's de Judas. Gambit objects and you won't ask for my help wit'out his permission." I don't know why, but my voice struggled to continue. "I know why people here don't trust you. You've done terrible things, hurt people I love. But I trust you."

Her poker face is flawless.

My father, on the other hand, let his temper speak for him. "De poor t'ing's already been subjected to every telepath in de school! Dis s'post t' be a place for second chances, and here we are, accusin' people a' dings we know dey ain't done yet."

"You don't trust her either?" said Ms. Frost.

"I don't trust nobody. But what if she only betrays us because we expect it? Life's meant t' be lived moving forward, not backwards."

"Dat's what dis is really about, ain't it?" I asked breathlessly. "It offends you dat I'm a precog!"

Once again, Momma was there to do damage-control. "You can't take evert'ing so personally, chere. Your Papa knows you can't help what you are. It don't matter, anyway, he always gonna love you."

"Nothin' good ever came from a fortune teller," Papa muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Whatever secret reason my mother had to explain her loyalty to Papa vanished. Cursing, she threw punches at him until Ms. Frost separated them. My eyes were filled with tears, but I never saw him raise a hand in his own defense. I think he knew he'd crossed the line. After Ms. Frost escorted Gambit out of our sight, I lead my mother to her room in the guest hall.

"I'm sorry, cherie," She said, shaking all over. "I shouldn'ta done dat in front a' you. You know I love your father. He just makes me so mad sometimes."

"Its okay, Momma. You don't have to love him all de time. I don't."

"You don't mean dat," She was only trying to convince herself. She knew perfectly well how much I meant it! "If you didn't love him, he couldn't hurt you."

.::.

I didn't need special powers to learn about Foxx. The rumors began immediately. At first, the gossip was harsh: she was a runaway, a former prostitute, and immature for her age. But after she was given a chance to prove herself, the words became kinder: she was intelligent, great with weapons, and had a quirky sense of humor. She was placed on my father's squad at his request. I made a point to avoid him and his students, but I knew when they drilled. Tess and I went to one of their practices during our study hall. Of course, I knew the team would be there, but I had prepared other excuses: the weather was lovely, my homework was caught up, and most of my classmates were at the field, too. I was only fooling myself.

Nate and Uri joined us on the bleachers, and the lot of us gossiped. Uri had befriended a new student named Ethan Fong, who later joined us, and we made an effort to include him for Uri's sake.

Ethan was in the same grade as Nate, and my friend was secretly glad to have an associate his own age. They were both handsome and clever, but that's where the similarities ended. Whereas Nate was quiet and insightful, Ethan was aggressive and spontaneous. Nate regarded his friendships sacred, and took a duty to guide and protect us. He gladly sacrificed his own honor for mine, making clear his platonic feelings. Ethan, on the other hand, had no qualms about tearing the other guys down and flirting with me.

"You've got such a pretty laugh," he told me. "Are you always this bubbly? Or is it just because of me?"

I blushed furiously and laughed again. He was quite handsome – in an understated way. His hair was black and inky, his skin unblemished and milky, and his body slender and tall. His most striking feature was his eyes: a bright and burning violent outlined in deep indigo. Whenever he looked at me, it was like watching the sun rise. My soul burned from exposure. I would remember his eyes all the days of my life.

"Scale it back, man," said Nate, "She's twelve."

He choked. "Shut up!"

I nodded.

"Jeez, and here I thought the boys kept away because of your father! If I were him, I'd lock you away in a tower."

Everyone laughed except for Tess.

"That's her," Tess looked away, and we all followed her eyes to the field entrance.

Foxx.

I knew as soon as I saw her. She was tall and sleek. Beneath that sickly pale skin I could see scalped muscles and an evil smirk. Her hair was turquoise and styled like a wig: waist-length with cropped bangs. She had strangely orange eyes that challenged everything. Her chosen look wasn't much more flattering: black lipstick on a wide mouth, huge moon-shaped earrings, and a midnight-blue leather uniform. Her boots were imitation combat boots that scaled her calves and ended at knee pads.

"Is she dressed like Gambit?" Ethan was the first to comment.

Uri said to Nate: "Guess we'll have to get you some white leather pants and a cape."

"Fine, but I'm not wearing a brassiere."

"She ain't even pretty!" I steamed.

"A cross between an eel and a crow!" said Uri.

"And a student…" Nate added.

"I wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole," Ethan said.

My friends were so great. I could always count on them to be petty with me, unlike Momma. Tess was quiet, as usual. She rubbed my back but said nothing.

"You're right," I told her. "Need t' keep my cool."

She smiled.

Just as the rage subsided, Uri said: "Is the bitch waving at us?"

She was! With one arm wrapped around my father's, she lifted the other to wave at us. Her lips curved knowingly. I wanted to rip her apart.

"Where's the plane?" Nate said coolly.

The five of us stared daggers at her, but she pretended not to notice.

The squad started with some stretches and a lap around the field. Unlike some of the other instructors, who merely bark out orders, my father works with his team. He never asks more from them than he is willing and able to do himself. It inspires loyalty from them.

Nick had been with my father the longest, and was leader by seniority. Like all the other boys, he idolized Gambit. Foxx's blind admiration of my father only enhanced him in the eyes of his squad. I thought Nick was a little too soft to be team leader. The other members had too much control, especially Sidney. Poor Sidney had a rough childhood, even by Xavier Academy students' standard. He never spoke to me directly about his past, but the trauma was evident by his mutant abilities and in his mental instability. Carl was the exact opposite of Sidney. Just like his water powers, Carl was tranquil and pleasant. He didn't adore my father so much as he accepted him – just like the gently moving creek accepts the beavers dam.

If there was a theme to Gambit's squad, it was that all the members were obviously mutants. The final member, Roxy, was no exception. She and I had a lot in common, although never seemed to get along. She, too, was born into a wealthy and dangerous family, and had to fight for the respect freely given to normal, pretty girls. Even when other students mocked her rocky exterior, she was the most level-headed member.

By comparison, Foxx looked positively gorgeous.

Another trait my father appreciated in his students was agility and cleverness. The other instructors had impressed upon him the importance of having a well-rounded team. They wanted a telepath, someone who could fly, someone with super-human strength, and a team leader who was dependable and honest.

Not Gambit.

He wanted the rejects. As a result, his team wanted to prove him right. They worked harder than anyone else for the same results. They didn't need to follow the rules. They could have a disadvantage and still succeed.

A few minutes of training told me that Foxx did not fit that mold.

She wanted to fit in. She didn't want to impress Gambit with her hard work and determination, but with her talent and flattery. At first, the team tried to make up for her slack. It didn't take long for the cracks to begin. Gambit ended the session by asking his team for patience and understanding. It would take time for Foxx to find her place. The team retreated to the lockers, and the spectators moved on to their next classes.

I saw Gambit moving in my direction, but couldn't get away quickly enough.

"Honor! Come 'ere!"

I contemplated ignoring him. Tess gave me a look.

"I'll catch up wit' ya'll," I told my friends. I hung back through the exodus until my father and I were alone. I pressed my lips together, determined to keep quiet.

"Who's dat new kid?" He asked casually, filling a paper cup with water and throwing it on his face.

"Ethan? I don't know anyt'ing about him. He's in Nate's class, I think."

"Dat boy got no business talkin' t' you. He's too old."

"He's de same age as Nate! You got no problems wit' him!"

"I know where Nate sleeps at night."

"Do you know where Foxx sleeps?"

I felt the anger building in me again. There was no calming down, no keeping my cool. I was blind with rage, my vision literally slipping from view. He turned and looked at me. It was the first time he'd looked at me – really looked at me – in days. The red in his eyes glowed.

"What did you say, little girl?"

Something about the way he said "little girl". He usually said it with such affection, but now it was poison. He meant to demean me with what use to be love.

I shook with unvented rage.

He approached me like a snake to a cornered mouse. His shadow engulfed me, leaving me nowhere to run. I could smell the anger radiating off his skin. Those hands that had once clung to my last drops of life now wanted to hurt me.

"You listen t' me good, 'cause I'm only sayin' it once," he seethed. "I ain't gonna risk my career and my marriage on your overactive imagination. You don't talk about my past or my future wit' anyone. D'accord?"

"That's all you care about, isn't it? Rogue and these stupid students who worship you! Only I know who you really are! I HATE you!" I shouted for the world to hear. Then I turned and sprinted off the field, past my friends waiting in the yard, through the halls where Mr. Summers shouted at me to slow down, to my mother's room.

.::.

"I'd like to thank you all for the hard work you put into this latest test," Dr. McCoy told the room while passing out papers. "I think you'll find your work reflected in your grades."

"Is that sarcasm?" asked Maxwell Jordan. "'Cause I didn't even crack the book for this one!"

"And that's reflected in your grade," Dr. McCoy said, handing Max his test. "And the highest score goes to-"

"Tess," supplied Dallas Gibson.

"No," our instructor replied. "Although she did very well, as always. But the highest score goes to Miss LeBeau."

There was a scattered applause, led by Uri. My face burned, but this was secretly a much-needed boost to my confidence. Of course, it wasn't long before Bethany Burbins jumped at the chance to take me down a notch. "She's a psychic! If she didn't get the highest score, it's because she had someone take the test for her!"

"Yeah?" Uri challenged lightly. "Well, I'm a Jew, and it doesn't seem to help me out at all."

Bethany's stupid little side-kick Andrea Margulies added her two cents: "You're dense by any standard! I don't know how you can spend so much time with the smartest people in class, and not have any of it rub off onto you!"

Now I was pissed! I rounded on her and half leapt from my seat. "Why don't you ask Bethany to explain it to you? You're so lucky to have a friend who knows everyt'ing! Den she can explain how de school's anti-cheating systems only work for telepaths, and even if they did work against psychics, the teachers would pass me anyway because of my father!"

"Alright, Miss LeBeau, Miss Margulies – that's enough."

"Oh!" I added, "And while she's at it, ask her why my grades are better than Nate's! I'm sure she's got a great theory about how I sleep with the teachers to pass!"

"Miss LeBeau," Dr. McCoy said firmly.

I sat down and fixed my hair. "Sorry, Dr. McCoy. Just thought I'd save Andrea the trouble of catching everyone in de hallway and tell dem what she'll be sayin' later."

…

After classes, I worked on my homework in the library with Tess and Uri. Normally, Tess would verify our work for errors, but Ms. Frost assigned her some extra classes this semester. She handled the load as well as she could, but no longer had the patience for Uri and me.

"I can't pass without you giving me all the answers!" he told her.

"If our grades start to slip," I said, "Andrea will say the teachers' have been exposed thanks to her loose lips."

"Yeah," said Uri, "I'm sure her gossipin' will have the X-Men shaking in their boots!"

That evening, Momma wasn't in her room, so I went looking for her in Papa and Rogue's room. I could smell jambalaya cooking on the hot plate. A small dinner table was set for four. I closed the door and proceeded through the small hallway into the only room, excluding an adjacent bathroom. Rogue was topless, laying front-down on the mattress while Momma rubbed her back.

"Should I give ya'll a moment?"

They laughed.

"Be a dear and get de wine out of de cooler, will you?" Momma said without stopping her task. "Poor t'ing, all knotted up." She said to Rogue. "I remember dese days. Your back hurts all de time, leg cramps, sore ankles, and not a t'ing t' be done about it."

Rogue groaned. "If this dinner goes the wrong way, Ah'm gonna dump him and keep you. Gawd, Belle, thank you."

She sat up, crossing her arms to cover her chest until she could fully cover. From the corner of my eye, I saw her swollen belly. Well into her second trimester, she could no longer conceal her condition. I saw something press out from beneath her skin and then recede. I couldn't suppress a gasp.

Rogue laughed at me. "Frightening, isn't it? Ain't nothin' about this that's beautiful or natural. They're moving, if you want to feel."

I moved towards her cautiously. I don't know why, but I felt a sudden premonition of dread.

"It's okay, sugah. Thanks to Emma, I've just about got mah powers under control."

Not wanting to be rude, and being naturally curious, I forced myself to put a hand on her occupied womb. There was a little pressure that came and went against my palm.

"Is dat dem? It's barely noticeable."

"They like you," Rogue smiled at me, and I at her. For a moment, I felt like I had my friend back. The wicked stepmother was gone.

Our brief feeling of euphoria disappeared when Gambit didn't show for dinner. Momma divided the food, but we were all too angry to keep anything down. So we sat in silence and watched our food get cold.

8:32 p.m.

He finally showed up.

"What's all dis?"

The three of us looked at each other, wondering who had the right to the first blow.

"Where the hell have you been?" Rogue started.

"Look, if I'd known de two of you wanted a romantic dinner, I woulda found a sitter."

"You ain't funny, LeBeau!" Momma snapped. "Your family's fallin' apart, and we need you to pick up de slack!"

"Ah'm sick of always bein' left behind!"

"I'm sick of always bein' left out!" shouted Momma.

I was angry as hell with my father, but I couldn't bear to watch him get crucified.

"Hey, let's everybody chill," I said. "Dis ain't what we wanted t' say. Now, we all got t'ings dat-"

"I guess Gambit's just s'post t' be everyt'ing t' everyone!" my father interrupted.

Initially, we were stunned. Once the shock wore off, my evil stepmother re-emerged. Rogue and Momma hurled their insults. Gambit responded, but the words were lost in the ensuing battle. I sat down and kept quiet. If the three of them came to blows, I knew I'd be collateral damage. Best to stay out of it.

Finally, there was a pause.

"Get in de car!" Gambit demanded. "All of ya'll!"

He left.

The three of us looked at each other, and reluctantly followed. No one said a word as we grabbed our coats and loaded into the BMW Sedan Gambit had recently purchased. Earlier, Rogue told him the motorcycle wasn't car-seat friendly, and he needed to consider a mini-van. Refusing to conform, he beat her to the finish line with a vehicle he could still be proud of. The car could easily accommodate the twins and their parents, but there wouldn't be room for me. Just the way they wanted it. Rogue rode shot gun, and Momma and I sat in the back. No one spoke or sighed or even asked to turn the radio on. We just rode in silence out of Salem Center, away from the city. We stayed on the interstate for half an hour, and then turned off to a part of the state I was unfamiliar with. A sign told me:

Welcome to

Poughkeepsie, New York.

Momma and I looked at each other. We looked back out the windows at our surroundings. It was too dark to adequately make any distinctions. For the next ten minutes, we saw only trees.

Rogue fell asleep.

Finally, Momma said, "If you're plannin' t' kill us, be quick about it, LeBeau. Don't know how much further you need t' go."

We hit a bump and Rogue awoke with a start.

"Ah gotta pee."

"We're almost dere," Papa said, gripping the steering wheel.

"Ah gotta pee now, Remy!"

"You wanna stop here? In de middle a' nowhere?"

She surveyed the area and sighed. "Guess Ah've had worse…"

"We ain't stoppin' here!" Momma shrieked. "Dere's mountain lions and bears out here. Dis woman is carrin' your youngin's, and you couldn't plan our road trip any better? Mon Dieu!"

"I could leave ya'll here, and no one would ever know. Don't tempt me, femme! Don't tempt me!"

"T'ink you can take me, homme? Allons, m' ami!"

The car came to a sudden halt. For a moment, I really expected my parents to come to blows.

Rogue looked out the window and said: "Ah don't think they'll take kindly t' me usin' their facilities."

Distracted by the unexpected appearance of a mansion in the middle of nowhere, the three of us forgot our spat and peered out the window.

"What is dis place? A country club?" Momma asked.

"Get out!" He snapped before exiting. The door slammed after him.

The three of us got out of the car and looked at the building we were parked by. It was an enormous place atop a low hill. I could hear frogs in the background: indicating water was nearby, although I didn't initially see any.

"You t'ink a round a' golf is gonna solve our problems?" I asked.

"Take a good look, you blood-sucking loves of my life. Anyt'ing look familiar?"

The three of us obeyed, and I think we all came to same realization at the same time. Finally, I exclaimed: "Dat's my tower!"

"And mah balcony."

"And my porch. LeBeau!"

"Dat's right," he said bitterly. "While de trios a' you been snoppin' around in my trashcan, sure as saints dat I'm a no account dead-beat, I been putting all m' time and money into dis! Tryin' t' make your dreams come true-"

"Oh, Remy!" Rogue threw her arms around him and sobbed into his shirt.

Momma put most of her weight on my shoulder. I held her until she composed herself again, and then I hugged my father and Rogue. Momma joined us, too, and I felt the twins kicking. Cheesy as it was, the love was sincere. I felt proud to be a part of my family: possibly for the very first time.

Rogue broke away to wipe her face. "Now please tell me the toilets work, 'cause Ah still have to pee."

She found a place to relieve herself, and then Papa gave us a very informal tour. The house exterior was white with black shutters and a wrap-around porch. The stairs leading up to the front double-doors were moderate in quality, and I noticed a wheel-chair ramp discretely on the side. The floors inside were carpeted in a soft cream. The walls were a forgettable shade of off-white that begged to be colored. But the house had a fun, sort-of art deco theme. Around the stairs, the walls stretched straight up to the roof. The large, open area felt like a cathedral. But in the smaller downstairs rooms, the walls had random rectangles in random sizes cut through. The downstairs restroom was hidden under the staircase. Very quirky and original, I thought. Momma was the first to notice there were two kitchens, on opposite sides of the house. Both were fully equipped, with the extra bonus of a breakfast nook over-looking the lake in the backyard. Papa said he wanted Momma and Rogue to feel as comfortable as possible, and he thought the best way to accomplish this was to add kitchens and bathrooms. The main sitting room was enormous. Thus far, it was barren except for a large stone fireplace. I noticed a narrow door almost hidden on the side. Sneaking through like Alice in Wonderland, I found a small, carpeted room with a low and wide ceiling. There was a large window facing the front lawn, but the room itself was too small and hidden to be anything conventional.

"Dat's for your piano," Papa said from the doorway.

I was too shocked to speak. I couldn't even acknowledge him.

"Your room's t'rough dere." He pointed to a second narrow door conspicuously placed in the piano's room. It led to an iron spiral staircase with steep steps.

"Maybe you should wait to go up dere, cherie," Momma warned.

The power wasn't on yet, and we were working by moonlight and Papa's make-shift light of a charged playing card that he held gently between his fore and middle fingers. I hesitated, but proceeded. Papa followed to light my way; Momma and Rogue stayed behind. At the top of the staircase was another door. The room was cozy. The ceiling was angled like the inside of a witch's hat. Papa could've hidden the tower peak, but I liked seeing the thick wooden planks come together like a star. Since it was a tower, the room was round. The sole window was large, and also circular. The glass was stained with iron in-lays.

"Can you see de picture?" Papa asked.

"No."

He knelled on the little nook below the window and put the light closer. The most obvious feature was the shades of blue and green, all in different hues and shapes. Snaking through the aqua-marines and emeralds and sapphires was a bright copper river. A ruby eighth note was dead center. It was so beautiful.

"It's Nawlins," I whispered. "I can't wait t' show Tess!"

"Opens, too."

He lifted the latch and the window swung in and to the side. He closed the window and sat down in the nook underneath.

"I need t' talk t' you, catin." His eyes darkened and his presence faded. "T'ings ain't de way dey were in Valle Soleada… Wish dey could be, but dey ain't. I'm an X-Man, and dat requires a lot. I know you don't like dat. I got my students t' mind. I'm married, too, and dat ain't been a cake walk. Now come de summer, we'll have two little ones. Sometimes I t'ink I'm drownin', chere."

I wanted to comfort him, but didn't know how. So I sat silently with my hands clasped.

"I know you been gettin' de short end a' de stick, so t' say," he continued, "Ain't 'cause I don't love you. And I'm sorry t' say t'ings'll probably get worse before dey get better. But I'm hopin' de house will help. I'm really tryin' here, petite." He let his charged card disintegrate.

We sat in silent darkness. I listened to my new home, smelled it, felt it.

"When I was a pup," he said quietly, "I had t' fight for everyt'ing. Didn't have a room or a house or parents. Never even went t' school. I told m'self my kids would get better. Dat's all I want, just a chance t' give you a better hand…"

Through the darkness, I saw him smile weakly, and offered my own brave smile.

"But all I got t' give you is merde. You're so much smarter den I was at your age," he told me. "Won't be long before you're smarter den I am now, and I won't have anyt'ing else t' give you. I try t' be dere for you. And I t'ink you're smart enough t' know I need your help, too. You're de glue dat holds us all t'gether, 'On. You start spreadin' malcontent, and we'll all fall apart."

"When I'm nice, you ignore me," I said quietly. "Its better t' be hated den forgotten."

"You're right, but I don't forget about you, catin." He was silent for a moment. "I ain't been particularly greatat too many t'ings lately. You forgive me?"

My heart lurched. I threw my arms around his neck like I'd wanted to do for days now, and he returned my hug. It was impossible to stay mad at him.

"Den let's see de rest a' de house."

He lit another card, and we carefully descended the stairs. Back through the living room and up the grand staircase to the second story. The second floor was divided into two wings: each with a master bedroom and a bathroom. The master bedrooms each had a vanity. Each wing also had an additional two rooms, and the wings were divided by a large room with built-in book cases and a marble floor. Momma's room had a walk-in closet. Her long, narrow windows set far apart with a fold-out desk built into the wall between them.

"Whadda you gonna do with your extra rooms?" I asked her.

"Move m' concubines in, I reckon."

We followed the wooden floors down to Papa's side, but I didn't ask him what his extra rooms would be used for. It seemed obvious to me. Instead of a walk-in closet, the master bedroom had a tiny, adjacent room that was too small to be anything other than a nursery or storage room. Like the other rooms, the would-be nursery was unpainted, but sported a chair-rail.

"Oh, it's so sweet!" Rogue exclaimed, folding her hands under her chin. "A little nursery for mah little babies."

"Nursery? Non, dis is m' doghouse. You kick me out, I ain't got far t' go."

Rogue inspected the room's tiny closet and then peaked out the high window. "That'll keep the sunlight out for most of the day," she commented with approval.

"Give us plenty a' time t' get 'm back in de coffins."

"Remy, this is real. We're really doin' this. Ah thought you didn't want..."

Her voice shook, and Papa put his arms around her.

Momma pushed me into the master bedroom, and we explored it together. Even without paint or furniture, it was a regal room. Like all the other rooms, it had a high ceiling and large windows. Only then did I realize that all the windows were different shapes and sizes: mine and the twins being the most obviously distinct. The master bedroom had a walk-in closet, fully equipped adjacent bathroom, and - of course - a balcony.

There were strange details about the room I couldn't quite understand. For one, the room had columns. Very grand, but not really Papa's taste. Also, there were squares cut into the walls, almost hiding in plain view. When I tried to inspect further, my mother stopped me.

"Careful what you touch, chere. Knowing your father, dere's probably a button dat dims de lights and plays an R&B record."

"Nobody calls dem 'records' anymore, Momma," I said with a deviant smile. But I obeyed.

The backyard was outlined by a wrought iron fence. Papa said that was to keep the twins from wandering into the lake. The house also had a three-car garage that we girls cared little for, and a basement that Papa planned to turn into a playroom of sorts. His exact term for it was: "man cave". At the time, no one protested his request. As we exited our dream home and returned to the car, he pointed out the incomplete areas.

"Still a lot t' be done before we can move in. Need t' implement a security system: it's minimal right now. Really just t' deter vandals. Obviously, needs a few sinks and cabinets. And I'd like to do somet'ing wit' de driveway, but dat can wait."

"Is it gonna be done before the twins arrive?" Rogue asked pitifully, rubbing her tummy like a sick child.

"Dat's really up t' dem, ain't it?"