December 21st. Evening. Francois' arrival is announced by the washed out headlights that flood through the livingroom window.
#Leah'sHouse – December 30, 2019
Tara isn't very used to having the house to herself. After Leah left for her date she took the opportunity to do some cleaning - not that there was much need, but it can always be cleaner. Dishes are done, and the porch is clear of snow. Some bad food has been cleared from the fridge, and the trash has been taken out. Once she ran out of chores to keep her occupied, Tara drifted back to the TV as she usually does, curling up under a
blanket in her preferred corner of the couch. At first it was more of the Christmas entertainment that Leah had provided, slowly absorbing more and more information about the holiday from antique cartoons and retellings of ghost-filled old books. Eventually, however, her mind drifted back to her conversation with Leah. Curiosity getting the better of her, she sought out a random selection from the romance section. She watched for
about half an hour before the TV was hastily turned off, the next minutes spent curled up in silence, watching the colorful lights and the snow gathering on the windowsill until the tears on her cheeks have dried and her breathing has steadied. She's only recently put the goofy holiday cartoons back on to keep her company when the glare of headlights fill the livingroom and she leaves the couch, heading over to have a cautious peek
A door loudly shuts outside and Francois is outside of his friend's truck by the time Tara reaches the window, elbows leaned against the open passenger's-side window. Their voices and laughter is muffled by the layer of glass between them and Tara. Not long after the two exchange their goodbyes the stocky old man makes his way to the front door.
Francois remains on the other side of the door when it slides open, stomping the snow off of his winter boots. He raises a hand to wave his friend off before stepping inside only once he's sure he won't track in a snowy mess. His frayed old tuque looks like it's seen its fair share of use, the remnants of what once contained a fluffy ball at the top little more than a loose strand of string. A bag hangs off of his right arm and a
pair of colorfully wrapped boxes are tucked into his armpit, each adorned with a bright red bow. There's already a few similarly-wrapped gifts beneath the tree.
Tara turns towards the door as it opens, remaining standing. There's a hint of curiosity as her gaze darts over the items Francois is carrying, before returning to his face. She hazards a quiet little "Welcome back.", a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth briefly. She still looks a little bit rattled, and her eyes are a bit red, but the dim multicolor lighting does a good job of obscuring that. Her arms are wrapped around
herself, maybe because of the gust of cold air that accompanied Francois' entry, or maybe just because it's comforting. She's still wearing her Christmas hat, as well as her pyjamas, and thick fluffy socks.
Francois doesn't seem to notice Tara until she speaks up, too busy attempting to work off his winter boots with one gloved hand. "Oh, hey sweetheart." he offers softly. It seems to take him a moment to register her posture and attributes it to the cold he's letting in, causing him to hurriedly turn his attention back to the door and close it up. "Pretty cold out there." he chuckles in an apology, cocking a thumb towards the front
door. He adjusts his grip on the packages and leans back over with a grunt to finish doing away with his boots, making sure to drop them on the mat set out by the front door. As he straightens back up he casts a glance about before turning his focus back to Tara. "How long has Leah been gone for...?" he asks curiously.
Tara offers no comment on the cold, although a slight shiver runs through her body. The question causes her to straighten up a bit. "Since... about 5:30." she offers. She manages to catch herself before adding a 'sir' at the end. Addressing Francois more casually is still a work in progress, and there's occasional slipups. "There's-... there's no dinner yet. I-... I didn't know when you were coming home." she explains apologetically.
Francois lets out a deep breath, doing his best to hide the fatherly concern that washes over him as his thoughts turn to his daughter. The slow cascade of colorful lights from the Christmas tree helps him to prop his smile back up, taking in the sight as he meanders over to place the two packages under his arm- one addressed to Leah and the other to Tara- amongst the others. Her question causes him to cast a glance back over his
shoulder to her, raising the arm with the bag hanging off of it a little higher. "Oh, that isn't necessary, sweetheart." he assures. The bag has a logo on the side of it. A smiling varren with a knife and fork crossed behind it. "Since Leah has left us to fend for ourselves for dinner, I picked up burgers on the way home." he explains. "Her loss." he says with a snicker as he starts over towards the dining room table to
Tara 's face brightens a little when she recognizes the logo on the bag and she's quick to nod in acknowledgement, not about to complain about this turn of events. She follows Francois to the dining room, remaining silent as she takes a seat.
Francois remains standing as he pulls the styrofoam packages out, setting one in front of Tara. "I just got everything on the side so you can put whatever you want on it." he explains. He sets a second container in front of the seat he draped his jacket over and, despite his joke at Leah's expense, he pulls a third styrofoam package from the bag and stores it in the fridge. When he returns, he offers Tara a small smile. "So..." he
says as he takes his seat to the right of Tara, "...5:30, you said?" he asks, craning his neck to take a glance towards the digital clock in the kitchen.
Tara blinks at Francois' words, cracking the container open to have a peek. Her gaze briefly darts over towards the third container as it's placed in the fridge, but she doesn't say anything, and soon she's back to staring down the half-assembled burger, pondering her choice. Francois' question brings her attention back up from the styrofoam container however, looking his way and nodding. "Yes."
Francois gives a few small nods, biting back on his questions and the accompanying sigh as he turns his focus towards his container and flips it open. Much like Tara's meal, it's a big, greasey spacecow burger with all the trimmings on the side. Not hard to see where Leah got her appetite from. He takes the top bun off and slowly begins to pile the toppings on. Eventually his brow furrows, as if having forgotten something.
"Drinks!" he exclaims, shooting a glance Tara's way. "Cola?" he offers, already climbing back to his feet.
Tara starts assembling her own burger. Not one to let food go to waste, it looks like she's going to use everything. Francois' sudden revelation causes her to startle a little, blinking as she looks up, but the question prompts a quick, thankful nod.
Francois gets to work on fetching them drinks. Glasses clank. The fridge door opens. The icemaker hums to life. The faint sound of the cartoons' festive music can be heard from the other room. "So... Nathan..." he muses aloud from the kitchen, the concerned father in him getting the upper hand in his struggle to keep from being nosey.
Tara fidgets a little as Francois gets up to get drinks, having to make a conscious effort to remain in her seat. The question causes her blink again and nod slightly as she waits for elaboration.
Francois falls silent when Tara offers little in the way of unsolicited intel. Not that he should've expected much. He's spent more than enough time around her to know how she is. The fridge door closes and, soon enough, he's back with a glass in each hand. He sets one in front of Tara and retakes his seat. "You've spent time around him?" he asks a question he already knows the answer to, doing his best to seem as if it's just
Tara nods again in confirmation. Once again nothing else follows. She takes a small bite of her now fully assembled burger once Francois has rejoined her, attention still on him, since it seems clear that more is coming.
Francois blinks, seemingly expecting more. Or perhaps just hoping for more. Making him dig for it does little to help him avoid the guilt of that 'Nosey Father' label, after all. He gives a shake of his head, a small snicker accompanying it which causes that kind smile to spread across his face. "You are a steel trap." he teases.
Tara 's eyebrows furrow, confusion crossing her face as she tries to make sense of Francois' teasing. After some hesitation, a puzzled Tara asks: "What does that mean...?" She's started to accept that it's okay to ask if she's confused, but the question is still careful.
Francois' smile only grows at the girl's curiosity. He replaces the bun to his burger and grips it, testing the structural integrity of the mighty beast. "It just means that you are very good at keeping secrets." he snickers. His expression tempers, smile pulling back slightly as he studies his burger. "I just-... I know it has been a long time since she needed my protection, but-... She's still my little girl." he offers with a
glance Tara's way, an almost apologetic look on his face for putting this on her. "I can't help but worry about her. Her life hasn't exactly been an easy one. She's had-..." he trails off, thinking better than to give voice to the many disappointments life has thrust upon his daughter. He merely gives a shake of his head and draws in a breath. "...And now it sounds like she's getting involved with this 'Nathan'." he
continues, a bit of perhaps unfair contempt entering his tone for a man he has never met. But it quickly dissipates. The frail old man just doesn't have it in him to hold much ill will towards anyone. It's not in his nature. With a sigh, he approaches his question cautiously, gentle eyes fixing to Tara. "Is he a good man?"
Tara seems a little surprised by the clarification, but doesn't say anything, listening instead as Francois continues to speak. A faint frown settles in as she listens, clearly paying close attention. The question causes obvious discomfort, and she shrinks a little in her seat as her gaze falls away from Francois, resting uneasily on the wrapping for her burger instead. There's not a word out of her, not yet at least, her expression odd.
Francois remains silent at first, brows furrowing slightly as he studies Tara. But the longer she remains silent, the more concern seems to slip into his features. "...What is it, sweetheart?" he asks softly.
Tara looks up again at Francois' voice, the frown returning. "I... don't know." she finally answers, her voice quiet, not looking all that happy about her reply. Her hands have slipped into her lap instead of resting on the table, and her posture is stiff.
Francois slowly lets a breath out through his nose, gaze slipping towards the table. He gives the answer a small nod, appreciative of the honesty despite the unfortunate lack of information. She hasn't yet learned the art of the comfortable lie. When he looks her way once more, her obvious tension causes a frown to cross his features. "I'm sorry, Tara." he offers softly. "Leah is a smart girl. She knows what she's doing. Knows
better than a tired old fool like me, at any rate." he snickers, trying to prop that kind smile of his back up for Tara's sake. "It's not fair for me to put this on you." Especially after everything she's been through recently. He might not know the extent of it, but he's old, not stupid. They left on a trip to make sure that Tara was safe from those with a price on her head. He's learned better than to ask questions.
Leah wouldn't have answered them anyway. He would've just been given a brow-beating and a familiar urging of, 'Don't worry, I'll be fine.' Not that it has ever helped to alleviate his worries. But she made it home. Maybe a little worse for wear with a few more bumps and bruises than she left with, but in one piece. 'She's gonna be safe now, dad.' had been their exchange afterwards. Leah's only real
acknowledgement of whatever had transpired during their trip. But he can put two and two together well enough to know that whatever happened couldn't have been easy for them.
Tara looks surprised by the apology, but the words that follow prompt a small nod of acknowledgement that Leah knows what she's doing. That thought, and the clarification that Francois isn't expecting Tara to have answers, seems to lift a bit of her tension. In the silence that follows she takes another bite of her burger. Her pace is less hurried than usual, and it's not hard to tell that a bit of discomfort lingers.
Francois watches Tara for a moment, restrained smile remaining. He reaches out, giving her a gentle pat on her shoulder before turning his attention to his own burger. "How have you been?" he asks, casting a brief glance her way as he gets a grip on his abomination of a burger and takes a big bite, quickly leaning over the styrofoam as the massive amount of toppings he stuffed onto the burger threaten to fall out.
Tara blinks, looking up from her own burger, which seems structurally sound despite the the large number of toppings. "I... have been well." she assures with a small nod. After a moment's hesitation a subdued smile crosses her lips and she adds: "Christmas is nice."
Francois returns her nod with one of his own and begins to move to take another bite of his burger when she adds her Christmas comment, causing him to set his burger aside for the moment. "It is, isn't it?" he muses wistfully, tilting in his chair a bit, one arm resting against the back of his chair as he casts a glance towards the living room and the decorations that adorn it. The constantly changing lights bathe everything in
their colors. "You two did a great job on the decorations." he comments with a look back her way. "Inès would have loved this." he adds in almost a whisper as he turns his focus back to his burger.
Tara 's face actually lights up with a rare, big smile when Francois compliments the decorations, her own gaze traveling briefly to the hanging lights and the tree. The final, quiet addition doesn't go unnoticed, the smile slipping away, and her attention lingering for a moment on the angel that crowns the plastic tree. Hesitation is written all over her face as she turns back to her burger, studying it without taking a bite. A few
moments pass before she breaks the silence, voice quiet and cautious, gaze back on Francois now: "Leah's... mother?"
Francois chews for a few moments, Tara's question causing him to give a few small nods of his head. He doesn't speak up until he's swallowed his bite of food and set his burger back down, manners and all that. "She loved Christmas." he offers softly, a slight sadness in the fond smile that crosses his lips when he looks Tara's way once more.
Tara nods softly, still holding her burger but not eating. Her gaze falls away for a moment before returning, face filled with a mix of caution and curiosity. "How-... how long ago...?"
Francois draws in a breath through his nose, clearly not having expected such follow up questions. It weighs his smile down a bit, but he's quick to prop it back up. "Three years." he says, his words almost sounding like more of a question than an answer. Hard to believe that so much time has passed. It still feels so fresh.
Tara sucks in her lips slightly, looking a little like she regrets asking, her gaze once again falling away. "Sorry..." she blurts out in a quiet mumble, staring at the burger in her hands now.
Francois is pulled from his souring thoughts by Tara's apology, causing him to look back her way. "No, sweetheart." he assures with a gentle shake of his head. "Inès was-..." he trails off, sitting against the backrest of his seat as his gaze drifts, heavy smile growing a bit more honest. "...She was the sort of person who brightened up every room that she entered. She wouldn't want to be a painful memory." He swallows a bit of
that guilty pain that accompanies every thought of his late wife. Fighting back memories of that dark place that he found himself in after she passed. A pit that he might not have pulled himself out of were it not for Leah. "I think that you would have liked her." he adds.
Tara 's guilty expression starts to lift as Francois speaks, her attention returning to him for a bit. She nods slightly at his words, a soft, subdued smile crossing her lips despite a bit of lingering worry. The final addition prompts another nod and a quiet agreement of "Me too..." that sounds surprisingly heavy with emotion.
Francois seems a bit taken aback by the emotion in Tara's voice, a sudden wave of guilt at having put that on her. "And she would have loved you." he says, reaching out once more to emphasize his words by giving Tara's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Tara stiffens up a little, still not quite accustomed to casual touch outside of Leah, although it's a short-lived reaction, and her attention is on Francois' words. She doesn't seem quite sure how to respond, a small, slightly embarrassed smile crossing her lips. It becomes obvious that her eyes are shiny with complicated emotion when her head turns a little and the colorful lights hit them, and the words seem oddly meaningful to her.
Francois studies the young girl for a moment, his tender smile lingering even after he brings his hand back. But the emotion that crosses her features is enough to temper his smile, a sadness settling in at everything this poor girl has been through. "I know that things haven't been easy for you, Tara..." he offers, well aware of just how much of an understatement that is, "...but-... Après la pluie, le beau temps." he continues,
Tara blinks at the unfamiliar words, eyebrows furrowing slightly and a shake of her head following, her full attention on Francois again now.
Francois' smile lifts a hair. "It means-..." he begins, eyes falling to the table briefly as he tries to figure out how best to explain. With a sigh he nods to himself. "...It means that tomorrow will be better." he settles on, deciding to keep it simple. "And it will be better, sweetheart. Because you have us now." His posture straightens up slightly as he speaks, taking a small amount of pride in that fact. "And we love
you, too, Leah and I." he continues, not the sort to shy away from expressing himself. That kind smile of his widens once again and he gives a small shrug, turning his attention back to his meal. "Of course we do." he adds matter-of-factly, almost as if to himself as he picks at a bit of lost toppings in the styrofoam container and pops it into his mouth. "You're our family now. You're a Mercier."
Tara swallows hard, nodding slightly. It's still hard for her to wrap her head around the idea of this lasting. Accepting that this is her life now. Her home. That it's not going to be ripped away from her. That she won't be traded away, or taken. As Francois continues to speak, a quiet, flustered noise slips out, a shaky, emotional smile crossing her lips as she looks down at her hands, although it quickly slips away. The burger has been
temporarily abandoned in its container, small, pale, scarred hands balled into loose, awkward fists on the table. When he finishes a sniffle cuts through the room, tears rolling down her cheeks as she keeps staring down at the table, the pom of her Christmas hat brushing against the side of her face.
Francois' attention is pulled from his meal by Tara's sniffle and the tears cut right through him, leaving his own eyes glassy, though he manages to keep from shedding any tears. He places a heavy, calloused hand over top hers and gives her hand a few gentle pats. Just a silent reminder that he's here for her, should she need him. A reminder that she has family now. And they're not going anywhere.
Tara 's tears continue to flow, more sniffles and a choked sob filling the silence despite her attempts to compose herself. The hand over hers soon draws her attention over to Francois, looking at him through tear-filled eyes, face full of hesitation, before suddenly scooting over to the edge of her chair, upper body practically falling into an awkwardly positioned hug, more or less headbutting Francois' chest because of the distance
Francois is a little caught off guard by the sudden hug and finds himself leaning back slightly when Tara latches onto him. But he's quick to return the sentiment, arms wrapping gently around the young girl who has quickly become as a daughter to him and scooting to the edge of his own seat to make the task less unruly. He presses a small peck against the top of her Christmas hat, merely holding her as more holiday music drones on
in the living room. Despite the undeniable sadness that settles in at the mere thought of the unimaginable horrors that this sweet, wonderful young girl has undoubtedly endured, there's also a pride that swells in his chest. Pride in being able to provide her with a semblance of stability. Pride in Tara for moving forward despite her life being so unbelievably unfair. Pride in Leah for caring so much that she was
unable to resist helping someone in need. It's may have been more than three years since Inès passed, but moments like this remind him that her life continues to echo all around him. From the values she helped to instill in their daughter to the person she has motivated him to strive to be. It's not until the Christmas song on the TV in the other room has ended and his shirt is tearstained that a small sniffle escapes him
and the gentle old man gives Tara a soft squeeze. "We are here for you, sweetheart." he assures almost under his breath, "Always."
Tara just remains like this for a while, her crying muffled as tears stain Francois' shirt, his reassuring words and the gentle pressure of his arms an unfamiliar comfort. The crying comes to a stuttering stop and she slowly sits up in her chair again, pulling away, her eyes red from tears and an embarrassed look on her face. Despite this a small, shaky smile crosses her lips as she wipes the remained of her tears on the sleeve of her
pyjamas. "Thank you." she says, sincerely, her voice quiet and hoarse, before she reaches for her burger, movements a little awkward.