Part 1 of the Labarre experience. If there's anything you want to happen in Labarre, let me know! Nothing is set in stone yet. -Becca
They must have heard the car, or seen it coming from the distance, but as the car approaches the house along the windy, dirt road I see the family hurrying out to greet us. A grin as big as can be is spread over Jean Luc's face. And I can see that the same smile is reflected in Robert.
Before the car comes to a halt, I see an eager young man sprint to Wesley's door with a look of pure excitement. "Wesley!" He shouts. I see Wes' reflection wave and return his smile.
"Mon frère!" I hear deep tone exclaim as Jean Luc opens his door.
"Beverly!" Before my door is shut, I've been enveloped in two small, lithe arms. The scent of violets surrounds me as I breathe in Marie's hair. "Oh, Beverly! It's so good to have you with us."
"Marie!" I return her hug fervently. I smile at the colour of her hair; ginger strawberry, much like my own. What is it with the Picard men and red heads? I haven't seen Marie in a few years. She looks the same. She's a small woman with fiery, curly hair that she arranges around her head in a flamboyant, messy bun. "Marie," I step back and look at her. "You look beautiful!"
She tilts her head to the side, "Now, now, Beverly – I don't think that I hold a candle to you!"
I shake my head, "flattery, Marie, will get you nowhere". I laugh at her kindness.
She sighs contently, looking over at Wesley who's holding Saoirse and proudly showing her off to Renee. My eyes follow hers as she looks over to Jean Luc who is currently showing Aaron off to his own brother. "Beverly, is that Jean Luc Picard?"
My mirth can't be contained as I admire my husband, "It certainly is, Marie."
We saunter over to the two young boys, "Aunt Beverly!" Renee affixes himself to my waist. "It's good to see you again."
I bend down to properly embrace my nephew, "and you, Renee. I can't believe how much you've grown in the last few years! The photos that we've seen do you no justice!"
He blushes abashedly, "Thank you."
"And who is this little one?!" Marie takes Saoirse in her arms, smiling at her proudly.
"Kitteh!" The little girl responds proudly.
"Kitteh?" Marie looks up at Wesley and I. We can't stop laughing. I don't think Saoirse will ever learn her name at this point. It might be permanently Kitten, or Kitteh. In a nanosecond I see Saoirse reach up and knowing her goal, "Marie, I would watch your hair if you want to keep any of i-"
"Owch!" Too late. Marie's shock melts into amusement at the smile on the little girl's face and the ensuing giggle.
"She, uh, has a bit of a penchant for pulling hair." Wesley intones with a sorry grin.
"Ah," she looks up at Wesley, "you must be the oldest Picard! Renee has told me so much about you. I am so, so glad to meet you, Wesley. Jean Luc's letters are filled with stories about you. He's very proud of you." She winks at him and then smiles at his consequent blush.
"Donc, eh, so," I hear a familiar rumble as Robert's tall figure approaches. "So, this, Jean Luc," he turns to his brother with a grin, "is your beautiful family." He scans all of us, "I have to say, Jean Luc, that the photos did them no justice."
"For once, Robert, I have to agree with you."
"Wesley," Marie takes his arm. "I hope that you have brought your appetite because we have prepared a special meal for all of you."
Wesley looks at me and we share a laugh, "Oh, Marie, if there is one thing that you will learn about my mother and I – it's that we always bring our appetite!"
She grins up at his tall form, "Bon! Let's eat!"
/
I have decided that the Picards do nothing halfway – not when I see how lunch is set up. It's mid afternoon and the sun is still set high in the sky. A white canvass tent is erected in the back of the house overlooking the vineyard. The table is set with a bounty of food and bottles of wine. Suddenly, I am grateful that I'm not pregnant, as there's nothing that I can't resist more than a good glass of Picard wine.
"Well, Robert," Jean Luc nudges his older brother, "I certainly hope you haven't skimped on the wine!"
Robert turns and looks histrionically hurt, "Mon Dieu, Jean Luc. How could you accuse me of skimping on the wine!"
They share a quiet laugh before settling at the table. "We replicated a high-chair for Aaron and one for Sao-"
"You replicated two high chairs?"
The older of the two looks down and smiles, "ouis. You know contrary to what you might think Jean Luc, we're not stuck in the dark ages!"
"Oh?" Jean Luc looks over, "things certainly have changed!"
"Marie," I look to my left, "this looks absolutely delicious! What is all of this?"
She gives her husband a knowing smile, which is immediately returned. "Cassoulet, fresh bread, local cheese, and of course – wine from the vineyard – none of it replicated."
"Yes," Robert confirmed. "We might be replicating high chairs, but food is one thing that we'll never stoop to use a machine for. Non, not when we have Marie's cooking."