Hi everyone! Thank you all for leaving such lovely reviews. I truly appreciate hearing from you. I hope that you are all enjoying the story. If you have any ideas or you want to see something or for me to touch on something, drop me a line and let me know! Lindsay, I think that you will appreciate this chapter! More to come, everyone, so stay tuned! Next stop, Labarre.
"Laurie, you going to get a veritable baptism in the next two weeks!" I laugh. But, truthfully even though Laurie is a well-seasoned nurse practitioner, I'm still worried about partially leaving the practice with her for the next few weeks.
Hope and I put feelers out a couple of weeks ago for a new nurse practitioner. Honestly, I didn't think that we'd find anyone who would meet our specifications. But, then last week as Hope and I were getting ready to leave, a lovely woman named Laurie paid us a visit.
Laurie is an older woman who has worked as a nurse practitioner for 36 years. She's married, has a few children, and lives locally. Though she'd heard of our practice, she worked at St. Augustine's Memorial Hospital, 40 minutes away. When she heard that we were looking for a new associate, she was eager to speak with us. 40 minutes is a long drive to make each day and she wanted a change of pace. Hope and I were overjoyed because she was the first that responded to our feeler and she was a good fit.
This week, Hope is going to visit her in-laws with her family. Her father-in-law is a sculptor in Seattle. This coming week he is being honored by the prestigious Seattle Art Board for outstanding contribution to the Seattle Artist's Community. Hope, Gregg, and the kids are going up to join the celebration. We've re-scheduled all of her new patients and we're leaving Laurie with the follow-ups. And, to complicate things, next week is the college's spring break and Jean Luc and I are making good on our promise to visit Robert and Marie and Renee in Labarre for a few days. I am so glad that we are finally getting to go visit them! It's the first time that we are going to see them in almost two years and I'm excited to go back to France and be reunited. Wesley will finally be able to meet Renee and the babies and I'll finally be able to properly spend time with Robert and Marie.
I hear Laurie's laughter behind me. "Don't worry, Beverly. The practice will be in good hands! I won't let anything happen!"
/
"Beverly, how do you want to get to Labarre?"
I look up, "Get?"
"I, uh," he looks up from the stove. "I don't think I want to use to transporter with Aaron." He looks sheepish, and I can't help but smile at his cautiousness.
"Then we'll take a shuttle! I don't mind how we get there. What time are we leaving on Friday morning?"
"Would 7 be too early? That would put us in Labarre at noon. Would you pass me the pepper?"
Automatically my hand reaches for the shaker, "How are we getting to the vineyard?"
"Do you want a lot of pepper or a little?"
I look over in the pan, "A little. I know you and the kids like spicy, but sometimes it gives me indigestion." He doesn't answer my question as he's caught in the act of cooking – an activity that he takes more pleasure in than I do. "Jean Luc?"
"Hmm?"
I laugh, "You didn't answer my question – how are we getting to the vineyard?"
"Oh! Sorry. I was going to rent a ground car. We can bring Aaron and Saoirse's car seats with us. It's a little over an hour's drive from the shuttle station right outside Bordeaux city proper to the vineyard."
I kiss his neck, tasting his cologne as I pull plates down from the cabinet, "sounds good."
/
"Wesley!" I hear Jean Luc call out from the living room.
"I'll be right there! I'm just packing Saoirse's little bag-" his voice comes closer to the living room and I grin when I hear him say: "Saoirse keeps insisting that I pack all of her stuffed animals in her little bag. Every time I tell her to only pick two she looks like she's going to cry!"
"All!" I hear her little voice demand.
"No, Saoirse, only two! How about Kitty and Mosby?" Mosby is her little penguin. Although now he looks more like a sparrow; his little white tufted belly has been lovingly coloured brown by all the dirt he's been dragged through when Saoirse traipses through the back yard. You should see her! A little girl with a big penguin dragged behind her! And she's very protective of Mr. Mosby; She won't let us wash him because she thinks he'll drown. We've tried to tell her that penguins can swim, but she's adamant every time.
I don't hear her respond but I can just see her shaking her head stubbornly. Oh that Howard temper! Jean Luc's voice fills the momentary silence. "I have something for you, Wes."
"Oh?" I hear him inquire as I wipe my hands and move into the doorway, looking on at the four of them sitting in the living room. Aaron is asleep in his cradle at Jean Luc's feet, sleeping soundly after his own dinner. Jean Luc is almost completely surrounded by papers and books. He's writing a new set of research papers that several of his students are helping to compile the research for. He keeps telling me that he's truly enjoying working with his older students on the project. Getting different perspectives on history and ancient people's is one thing that excites Jean Luc. He says it really allows the students to explore a different kind of wonder and creativity.
I see Wes smile and roll his eyes. Saoirse's latched onto his shoulders and he's pulling his hair. "What is it? Ow, Saoirse! What is it with you and pulling people's hair?!" She just giggles and butts her little head against the side of his neck.
Jean Luc is amused at the sight standing before him, "Come here, Kitten!" He holds out his arms and Wesley angles his body to allow Jean Luc to pry her off of him.
"Papapa" Saoirse begins as she falls against his hard chest, red curls tumbling messily around her head creating a halo.
I don't want to intrude, so I stand back, enveloped in the shadow of the darkened kitchen. "Do you need help with the Freshman essays? You know, I've been thinking that we need to start correcting for grammer-" he holds up his hands as he moves a stack of papers and sits next to Jean Luc and Saorise. He continues, "I know you keep saying that it's not your job to be an English teacher as well, but Jean Luc some of these kids really don't know the difference between a comma and a period! It's frustrating to read their essays sometimes... Jean Luc?"
Jean Luc is fidgeting for something, not truly paying attention to what Wes just said. He does that when he's deep in thought. "Hmm?" He's found his object of interest: a small box. I can't make out the details from where I'm standing, but it looks old and well worn.
Wesley knows. He's been around Jean Luc too long now not to have memorized his small ticks and idiosyncrasies. When we're alone, he loves to tell me about all the silly things that Jean Luc does in his office that he thinks Wes doesn't notice, like his pathological obsession with keeping his pens and pencils separate. And there was this one time, I remember, where Wes came home and told me about this ridiculous argument that Jean Luc had with one of the other professors in the department over the making of earl grey tea. Apparently, the two men got into a heated debate over the best way to prepare the tea. Wesley laughed so hard while he regaled to me the ferocity with which Jean Luc defended the formulation of the beverage from cool filtered water, a clean boiler, and fresh loose leaves. The other professor, apparently, oh-so-crassly argued that tea bags tasted no different than fresh leaves. Jean Luc, purportedly, was aghast and the argument went on for 45 minutes. By the end of the story I had tears in my eyes because I was laughing so hard.
"Papapa" I see little Saoirse break his reverie as she pulls on his shirt. He smiles down at her little face and kisses her delicate nose.
"Wes, as you remember, I still owe you a Christmas gift." I see half of his smile and I hear it in his voice.
"Oh, Jean Luc! Really… No. You don't have to give me anything! You and mom already gave me the conduit! That was enough!"
"Shh! Wes, please let me continue." He hands him the small, wooden box. "I wanted to give you this before we leave for Labarre tomorrow. I, well, I asked Robert for it and he was only too happy to give it to me for you."
Wesley admires the box, feeling the edges and running his fingers over the delicate carvings. "What is it?"
"Open it."
I can't see what it is from over here, but the look of wonder on Wesley's face tells me that it's quite special.
"Jean Luc?" He looks up.
Jean Luc repositions Saoirse in his lap. She preoccupied with her stuffed kitten that she found on the couch. "It's a family heirloom. It's traditionally given to the oldest male heir in the family."
Wesley's eyebrow cocks up, "I'm confused. Renee is the oldest Picard child…"
Jean Luc shakes his head and the emotion of what is happening touches my heart so much that silent tears spill over my cheeks.
"No, Wes. You are. I know that you're not a Picard by blood and I in no way am trying to replace your father or take away from the fact that you are indeed a Crusher. But, uh, I've always considered you my son. From the time that you were a little boy, I…" he fumbles, "I had always wished that maybe you were, uh, mine."
Wesley doesn't cry often. It's not that he's not emotional – he is – but he's just not given to crying. But right now, I see his eyes become glassy and a small tear amble down his own cheek as he's touched by Jean Luc's gesture.
He continues, "I know that I'll never replace Jack and I don't ever want you to think that I'm trying to. But, to me, you are a Picard and I want you to know that. I want you to know that my family is your family and will always be. You'll always belong to us."
They stay in silence for a few moments, neither moving nor speaking. Even Saoirse stays silent, quietly toying with her plush kitten.
"I don't know what to say, Jean Luc." He picks the compass out of the box and marvels at its antique simplicity. "I know that we don't often talk about the past. But, I've always looked on you as my father. I don't really remember Jack Crusher. He's always been a faded memory to me. I know that he's my father, but the closest that I got to him was in a vision while we were on Dorvan V. But you -even though we've had somewhat of a harried relationship in the past – you've always been a role model to me and someone that I look up to." He shifts in his seat, "You're a good man and a good father and you've always been there for me, giving me advice and supporting me. Sometimes –" he chortles nervously, "sometimes, I absolutely hated you for that advice and I resented how hard you were on me. But, I always knew it was for a purpose. I always knew that you wanted the best for me." He looks down and smoothes his fingers over the compass that's cradled in his hand. "Thank you. I don't know what else to say, but thank you and," He looks up and their eyes meet meaningfully, and he whispers, "and I do love you, a lot."