"It's been a while since we were here." I smile taking his hand as he leads me through his old bedroom.
He smirks, "Last time it was terribly awkward…"
I laugh at the recollection, "You know, the whole time I just wanted to jump you on your old bed!"
"I wish you had!" He laughs in response.
"I bet you did!" I nudge his chest. I should have known what was coming next, but I'm still surprised when he pushes me onto the bed. I always thought it was a rather generously sized bed for a young boy.
"Well…" he starts on my neck, drawing a familiar hiss of pleasure. "Beverly Picard, I do believe it's about time you made good on that urge!"
Gladly.
/
"Beverly, I don't know how you do it, but the two little ones slept all through the night!"
I smile at Marie over my croissant… my delicious, authentic, Marie-made, French croissant. Looking down at the tiny baby in the little high chair, I smooth his light hair. We all knew that Saoirse was going to be a red head like myself; she came out with a full, curly head of ginger curls! But, we can't figure out little Aaron yet. I think he's going to look like Jean Luc – much like Saoirse does. But, Wesley's convinced that he looks like me. His eyes are mine, though, that's for sure. But his hair is another entity altogether. I think he'll be blond, much like Renee. But, we're not sure yet.
"To tell you the truth, Marie, I think that yesterday tuckered them both out! But, neither of them has been too fussy. With Wesley, I remember, it was always a constant battle to get any sort of sleep whatsoever. But, Saoirse's always been a good sleeper and thankfully Aaron's following her footsteps... Knock on wood." I look around, but my attention is caught my a little hand reaching onto my plate, "more, Kitten?"
"Moh!" She exclaims pointing at the buttered pastry. Another thing we've been lucky with is pickiness. Nana always used to tell me what a picky toddler I was. She loved to tell me about the only white food phase, following by the only yellow food phase. Bread and corn were her greatest allies. But, as we know, I grew out of that only too quickly, making me a very pudgy middle schooler. But thankfully Saoirse will eat anything. But I have to say that her favourite mirrors her father's and my own; for her, nothing beats a good buttered croissant with a little bit of strawberry preserve.
We're trying to teach her more words. "What do you want more of, Saoirse?" I kiss her little golden ringlets.
She points over at the plate, "Tat."
"That's a croissant. Can you say croissant?"
"Cusant" she says halfheartedly. I laugh and languish another kiss on her head, "good enough."
Marie sits next to me, gathering Aaron into her arms. "Beverly, she is so lovely."
I look down with a proud smile, "we think so."
"Jean Luc is such a proud father! He looks at Wesley, Aaron and Saoirse like Robert looks at Renee. It's very sweet."
"Yes," I nod my head. "I've been lucky. Before we had the baby, I was worried about Jean Luc."
She smiles at me, taking a sip of her coffee, "I remember how much Jean Luc always said he didn't like children. But," she lays the cup down and repositions the baby on her lap, "I always suspected it was a fib! He would get along just fine with Renee!"
I hear footsteps and laughter as the front door opens, ushering in four very mischievous looking boys. "Well, where have you four been?" I ask, scrutinizing them a little more closely, my eye catching the thin sheen of dirt all over them.
"Just looking around the vineyard." A baritone asserts, as he kisses first my forehead before he sweeps up the ginger headed bundle on my lap.
"Papa!" She giggles at the wet kisses he's littering on her cheeks.
"Well," I reposition myself, crossing my legs. "I hope you haven't yet given the grand tour, Robert. I'd like a second look at the great Picard vineyard and cellars!"
"Not to worry, Beverly!" He laughs. "I'll leave no corner of the property untouched! But, eh, after breakfast; it's such a treat when Marie makes homemade croissants." He leans down and lovingly kisses his wife's cheek; "She usually leaves us men to scavenge for our own breakfasts!"
"You made these, Marie?" Wesley exclaims with the completion of a hearty bite. "Wow, so much better than the replicator version we eat at our house! Jean Luc," he looks beside him, " I don't know how we're going to go back to replicator croissants after this!"
"Mmm" Jean Luc intones in agreement. "Indeed. Marie, you really have outdone yourself, yet again."
She laughs, "Thank you, Jean Luc, Wesley. But, they're not that difficult. You could make them."
I see Wesley and Jean Luc look at one another with a familiar look – it's one they share when they're about to laugh over an inside joke. "Marie," Wesley turns back to her, "We just mastered a cake made from a box. Give us a little time on the authentic French croissant made from scratch…"