"Erik! Adrian! Come quick!" Shouted Gaia to her family as she sat by the fireplace one winter morning, a hand on her bulging belly. Erik was in the room in the blink of an eye, with seven year old Adrian just behind him.

"What is it?" Erik demanded, expecting the worst; This time last year, Gaia had suffered a miscarriage a child they had only known about for a few days. Now Gaia was in the final months of a fresh pregnancy, and the whole family was on edge after the memory of what had happened only a year before.

Gaia grinned up at her husband. "She's moving, come and feel!" the woman demanded, pulling down her husband by his hand to guide it to her belly. Erik and his son both breathed a visible sigh of relief, and obediently placed their hands where they were bidden.

"Mama, you scared us half to death," scolded Adrian, who had been receiving a piano lesson from his father when Gaia had called.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. This is just the first time I've felt her move enough that you can feel her too and I didn't want you to miss it," Gaia explained, not having meant to worry the two. "Wait a moment, let's see if she-" The woman didn't even have a chance to finish her sentence before Adrian's eyes widened in surprise and he pulled his hand back, startled

Gaia couldn't help but laugh. "You felt her?"

"Was that really her? It's so… weird."

"Right before your mother had you, her belly was so tight we actually saw your foot once or twice," Erik told the boy, who wrinkled his face where there should have been a nose.

"It's still strange. It's under your skin… but it's alive."

"Imagine how it is from where I'm sitting," she teased the boy, cupping his face in her hands fondly and kissing his forehead. "I was fascinated with the feeling when I had you, when I wasn't too busy making your father massage out all my aches and pains."

"Was I really such a bother?" the boy frowned.

Gaia shook her head. "A little more than she's been, but I didn't get any morning sickness with you like I did with her early on. And I didn't have nearly so many cravings when I was pregnant with you. Everything is a trade off, I suppose," she smiled.

"Speaking of cravings, if you eat dirt again I'm never kissing you again," threatened Erik half heartedly while Adrian made a disgusted face.

"The French man judging what I eat! Ha! Italian dirt trumps French cuisine any day," she teased, pecking her husband's lips lovingly as he chuckled; the cultural stress between France and Italy was an ancient one the pair treated lightly, considering by now Erik was practically a native born Italian. "Now help me up so I can start lunch."

Erik pulled Gaia to her feet with another kiss, pulling at her playfully as she moved from his arms into the kitchen. "How does lasagna al forno sound? I'm terribly hungry."

"Make whatever the baby wants," Erik told her with a bit of a laugh, knowing that was her plan anyway. All three members of the little family turned and stared at the door when there was a loud knock.

There was a long period of silence before Gaia finally untied her apron and moved past her tense husband and confused son. "Relax, would you? It's probably just someone too thick to read the sign that we're closed for the winter and are trying to check in here." Gaia promised them; this was the first time anyone but a cabby had knocked at their door, and certainly the first time they had an unexpected visitor.

Gaia waited for her husband and son to flee the room and hide their faces before opening the door and smiling genially. She was greeted with the sight of a portly older gentleman, who smiled wearily. Gaia greeted the man with a kind smile. "Good morning sir, how can I help you?"

"Ah yes, is this the Renard residence?" The man asked in thickly accented Italian, and Gaia quirked a brow before Erik came to the door, standing behind his wife and placing a protective hand on her shoulder. Suddenly she recognized the name, and also the man's accent; it was similar to the strange accent Erik had when he first arrived in Italy.

"Who is asking?" The masked man demanded, and the older gentleman looked quiet taken aback by the sight of such a lovely woman under the care of such an eccentric man… and pregnant by him no less!

After taking a moment to shake off his judgments, the man spoke again. "I am Monsieur Thomas, a messenger for the head of the Renard estate. Am I at the right residence?" The man asked again, wishing to be certain of his location before revealing his purpose.

"You are," Erik told the man curtly, and Gaia elbowed her husband out of the way to open the door further.

"Please Signore, come inside. I was just making lunch, would you care to join us?" She offered politely.

"Actually the business I have come with is quite lengthy. I'm certain it would run right through your lunch hour, and I certainly wouldn't say no to a plate so long as it's on business," the man smiled genially, as he stepped inside. Adrian peered around the corner, keeping a tight hand on the dog's collar to keep the animal from being rude to their guest.

"You are more than welcome to join us, Signore. I am Gaia Renard, this is my husband Erik and our son, Adrian," Gaia told the man, who smiled nervously but politely.

"A charming family, Madame. And a growing one I see."

Gaia smiled and touched her belly. "Indeed, and a girl this time I'm quite pleased to say."

The man quirked a brow. "How is it you know?"

"Women's intuition, Signore."

"Ah. My wife said the same about our daughters; she was convinced they were all going to be boys! At any rate, Monsieur, I take it you are the one I have come to see. Is your mother Madeleine Renard?"

"She is," answered Erik in French. "And if you don't mind, I would like to speak our native tongue if the matter is regarding my mother."

The man nodded and sat when Erik gestured for him to. "Why certainly, Monsieur," the man answered in French. "Monsieur Renard, I am sorry to inform you that your mother has passed away."

"Why would anyone be sorry to inform me of such news?" Erik mumbled bitterly before speaking so the man could hear him. "She is quite young to have passed away. What would she be by now, fifty?"

"She was forty six when she passed, Monsieur. Madame Renard died last spring, of unknown causes. My employer regrets that he could not locate you sooner, you were very difficult to track down."

Erik nodded. "I worked very hard to make that so. How was it you managed to find me?"

"Madame Renard's fortune and possessions were about to be given to the church when there was a rumor around the village that the woman had a son. My employer did a little investigating, and found a wedding invitation addressed 'to the mother of the groom', for a ceremony that was to take place in Rome. I went to the address, and the lady of the house gave me this address," the man explained, clearly exhausted by his journey.

"You're telling me the woman left me an inheritance?" Erik asked, dumbstruck.

"The woman left no will whatsoever, I'm afraid, which is why her possessions were going to the church initially. As her only surviving child, technically everything she owned is now yours. And may I tell you, it is a substantial sum."

The masked man's mood turned sour; he didn't want a single franc from his mother, not one dinner plate or silver spoon… but a large sum of money would sustain the little family well after Gaia gave birth, letting Erik stay home with his family. He loved his work, but commuting into Modena or even as far as Vienna for projects became exhausting, and every moment away from his family weighed heavily on his heart.

For nearly an hour the man read off a list of the possessions that were now Erik's to claim if he wanted them. When Gaia called them into the kitchen for lunch, Erik was pensive while the man and his wife made idol conversation about the man's stay in Italy so far. Finally Gaia couldn't take anymore, and squeezed her husband's hand.

"What is worrying you so much, Husband?"

"This gentleman has come to offer me a large sum of money, and belongings that will nearly double that sum… would you like me to take it?" Erik asked her, deciding it was not a decision he could make; his bitterness and resentment for his mother were too strongly effecting his judgment.

Gaia gaped some. "I'm not really in a position to make that decision, Erik. It's not as if we have any debts, and we're certainly not struggling to make ends meet with your income."

"I know, but with another child on the way… The money is so substantial that I could retire and we could live off of it modestly until we're old and gray."

"Well Erik, isn't that what you've wanted? To retire and be a family? I know you expected a longer career, but if you have the opportunity why not take it? It would give you more freedom to choose your clients and not sacrifice the quality of your work."

Erik nodded. "That is true."

"So what is the concern?"

"Sir, would you excuse us for a moment?" Erik asked of the man, standing from the table to move back into the parlor with his wife. He sat on the armrest of his favorite chair while Gaia moved comfortingly into his arms. "My concern is the source of the money. Even if we sell all of her things and none of them are in the house… I don't ever want to feel like I am indebted to her. I feel as though this is her final attempt to prove she isn't a horrible mother. Maybe it wasn't her intention, but that is what this feels like. My early retirement would ultimately be because of her."

"Can you really be indebted to someone if they're dead, though? It's not as if she expects you to repay her. And Erik, what if this is her way of apologizing for being so horrible to you?" Gaia suggested, squeezing his hands. "My Love, it doesn't matter to me either way if you take the money. I can't say I wouldn't be glad to have you home more; it's terribly dull around here without you. But it isn't as if you're gone terribly often, and we have your income from architecture and the income from the bed and breakfast during the spring and summer. If you're not comfortable taking the money, then don't take it. I would love to make the decision for you, but it's ultimately yours to make."

Erik nodded quietly, resting his chin on his wife's head as he held the neat little space between her breasts and the bulge where their daughter grew. Moving a hand down to her belly absently, he felt the small flutter of life under her skin and caught the private smile in Gaia's eyes as their daughter reminded her of her presence. Erik kissed the top of Gaia's head and returned with her to the kitchen.

"Monsieur, I've decided to accept the inheritance. But I would like all of my mother's worldly possessions sold. Whatever doesn't sell you have my permission to donate. The sum may be sent to this address," Erik told their guest in Italian so that Gaia could understand, and the woman smiled before kissing her husband's masked cheek, proud of his decision; she would have been pleased either way, but she was perhaps selfishly pleased she would get to see more of him. Really he did not leave often, but when he did hours felt like weeks, and days felt like years.

Gaia packaged up some of the leftover food for the man to take with him on his trip as they sent him on his way. As soon as the man was out of the house, father and son removed their masks, Adrian rather bitterly. Gaia frowned. "I'm sorry, my darling. It's only a precaution. Besides, that's the first time you've had to wear it in quite a while."

"I know, Mama. I just hate it is all," the boy explained, moving to put away the mask while Gaia frowned to Erik.

"I can't say that I blame him; they are rather uncomfortable," he explained.

Adrian reappeared in the kitchen while his mother was cleaning. "Mama, does this mean we're rich now?"

Gaia couldn't help but laugh. "Well, not in the way I assume you mean. Why do you ask?"

"Everybody likes rich people," Adrian explained, and Gaia frowned.

"Where on Earth did you hear that?"

"Nowhere. But in books they're always throwing parties everybody comes to," Adrian explained, and Erik stood in the doorway.

"Wealthy people aren't any more or less liked than the poor or middle class," Gaia explained. "They're just… surrounded by people who want to use them for their money."

"If anything wealthy people are less liked. They often have very sour attitudes," Erik chimed in, moving to poor himself a glass of wine. "We will technically be wealthy, and if we spent all the money at once we could likely live like those people you read about for a few years, maybe even more. But it's more important to me that your mother and I live comfortably for the duration of our lives, and that you and your sister have some wealth to support you through yours."

"So we're not really rich," Adrian frowned, and Gaia kissed the top of his head, handing him a sugar coated piece of fruit from a bag on the counter, which the boy accepted eagerly.

"I for one would never want to be. My Papa wealthy. Maybe not as wealthy as the people in your books, but plenty well off. He had very few people in his life who truly cared for him; everyone else was trying to reach their hand into his pocketbook. I would rather cut the rest of those people out and simply enjoy our little family, wouldn't you?"

"I suppose," relented Adrian thoughtfully as he bit into his candied fruit, and Gaia smiled.

"Come along mon fils, back to your lessons," Erik urged, and Adrian moved eagerly into the study where the piano was kept. He kissed his wife heartily before moving off after their son, and before long the house was filled with the rich sounds of Mozart and Bach.