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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
 
 
 

Ennui de Famille - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Paws
Last updated: 01/26/2007 02:19:59 AM

Chapter 3

He’d managed to beat him there, unsure at first if he was going to be stood up - smiling with relief as the lanky youngster entered the room, wearing a long overcoat, his dark glasses pushed high up on his nose.

Waving Remy over to join him at the gaily red and white checked table he’d been seated at, he smiled encouragingly at his nephew. His nephew. Dieu; it felt good yet odd at the same time to think of the boy that way. It had been just him and Henri, and eventually Mercy for so long – Bastien hadn’t been around except to ask for more money. They had no other living relatives. Well, they thought that they had none - until today.

Remy eased himself into the chair across from him, smiling a bit nervously at him before looking quickly down at the menu.

There was a live band that evening, and while it made it a bit harder to hear each other, Jean-Luc was glad for the additional cover of privacy that it would lend to their conversation.

“So…y’re stayin’ at a hotel? Did y’ move away from N’awleans?”

Remy looked up at him and closed his menu. “Oui. Jus’ got back yesterday. Caught d’ first flight could get.”

Jean-luc ordered a coffee for himself, which Remy seconded. “So how long has it been since y’ was here den?”

“Left in August, though came here for a day on Mardi Gras. Been up in N’ York…at a school.”

That was a pleasant surprise. It sounded like Remy was doing quite well for himself then. He’d been afraid that Remy would have been forced into the vagrancy that his parents had been living in. He’d tried to help them straighten out, but no matter what he did, they just ended up back in the same old patterns. Remy didn’t appear to be anything like his parents though, really. He was cleanly dressed, if not overly stylishly. He looked well groomed, and he didn’t have that air of desperation he’d come to associate with his brother and his wife.

“Dat’s wonderful, y’ like it dere?”

“School’s been complicated.” Remy looked somewhat uneasy for a moment before he smiled a surprisingly wide grin, a hint of mischief in it. “It’s more d’ company dan anything dat Remy likes.”

Jean-Luc laughed. So it seemed his nephew was a bit of a charmer. He felt relieved…it looked like he’d been more worried than he needed to be. Granted – growing up with his parents the way that they were couldn’t have been that easy – but the boy seemed to be doing well. It was good.

********************

Remy lost track of how long they’d lingered over the gumbo and coffee. It was kind of fun, he realized, relaxing in here eating good food and listening to the jazz being belted out in the corner of the restaurant. His uncle actually seemed pretty cool. He’d asked some questions about the school, what the courses were like, and how he was finding it up in the north. Those questions had left him in a cold sweat - he’d not wanted to tell his uncle about all of the mess surrounding that situation at the moment - but thankfully his uncle didn’t pry into things that he showed unease about.

He’d even spoken a bit about Talia, leaving out little things like her tail or the fact that she was blue, just as he’d not mentioned the entire staff and student body of the school were made up of mutants. He didn’t even know if his uncle had a concept of mutation, beyond the brief glance he’d gotten of his eyes. While he wasn’t ashamed of Talia at all, he certainly didn’t need to be bringing her or any of that up in a conversation in the middle of a crowded restaurant with a relative that he wasn’t even aware that he had until a few hours ago.

In return his uncle had told him more about Henri and Mercy, and had even shared a few short bittersweet but amusing stories of his father as a young boy. It was starting to get late though, and the crowd was thinning. Finishing the last of his coffee, Remy reached for the bill on the table only to have his hand slapped away.

“Will y’ stop dat? First time I meet my nephew an’ he won’t even let me buy him dinner?”

He grinned back at his uncle and shrugged. He watched as Jean-Luc pulled out a few bills and tapped them on the table, seemingly reluctant to lay them on the bill as payment and thereby end the evening.

“Remy…is dere anyway dat y’d consider maybe comin’ an’ stayin’ with me for a day or two? Y’ could meet y’re cousins and all dat.”

The question was unexpected. “Y’ want me t’ come an’ sleep dere?”

“If y’re willin’, oui. Not much time t’ get t’ know y’ before y’ go back to y’re fancy school…an’ I’d like t’ get a chance to. After all, we’re family, neh?”

Family. Such a loaded word. His brow must have furrowed because his uncle rushed to reassure him.

“If y’ don’t like it, y’re welcome t’ leave anytime. Will drive y’ back t’ de hotel an’ everythin’. Y’ don’t even need t’ cancel y’re room if y’ don’t want.”

Remy watched the man in front of him for a minute, while he thought on it. On one hand he wanted to refuse straight off – keep things uncomplicated and return to Talia as soon as he could. She had been anxious as hell when he told her that he had to leave. But that bright lingering promise of what could just be something teased at him. Hope. He couldn’t believe he was about to agree to this.

“Oui. Remy’ll come.”

******************

Jean-Luc was delighted. He had been so certain for a moment that Remy would refuse the offer. The chance to get to know this young man – this son of his brother – was like a gift. It was unfortunate that it had taken him this long to find out about him.

He led the way out of the restaurant, chatting about trivial things, trying to keep his excitement in bay, not wanting to make the skittish youth feel pressured or awkward. His driver, Theoren, was attentive as usual – springing out of the car to skirt around it, preparing to open the door for him.

Remy’s hand suddenly shot out, grasping his upper arm and holding him back as his other hand slipped something out of his overcoat’s pocket.

“Remy?” Theoren had stopped at the sudden movement from Remy, hand on the door handle, looking questioningly at the two of them. Jean-Luc looked at the tense body of his nephew, finally realizing that Remy had been concerned that the man had been some sort of threat. It made him sigh again, realizing that he was definitely a suspicious young man.

“Remy, dat’s Theoren. He’s my chauffeur.”

The darkness of the night didn’t quite cover the sudden flush of embarrassment on Remy’s cheeks as he released his arm and tucked the item back into the pocket. Jean-Luc barely saw a flash of it as he did so. He wasn’t sure whether to be relived it wasn’t the knife he had half expected or if he should be monumentally confused. A playing card?

Theoren opened the door to his black Mercedes, and he ushered Remy in before taking the seat beside him.

“We’ll be stopping off t’ pick up my nephew’s bags before returning home, Theoren.” He looked at Remy inquiringly. “So where is d’ hotel?”

Remy muttered out the brief directions to the driver, and crammed himself into the far corner of the car, looking embarrassed and unsure of himself. No doubt a little shocked at the luxury of it, Jean-Luc guessed. It must be a shock to bury your financially destitute Papa and find out that you have a wealthy uncle that you didn’t know of all in one day. Those were questions that he wasn’t looking forward to answering, harboring his own guilt over the whole matter. Which was increased triple fold now looking at his nephew.

In a matter of moments, they arrived at the clean but older hotel. He waited for a surprisingly short amount of time before Remy reappeared – a simple duffle bag in hand.

Remy looked like he was deep in thought, worrying his lip between his teeth as he released the bag to Theoden and reclaimed the seat beside him.

“Is dere something wrong?” Remy turned to him as if surprised that he’d asked, and shrugged his shoulders at him again.

“Went t’ tell Maman dat Remy was goin’ with y’…but she wasn’t dere.”

“Oh? Did she just not answer d’ door? Maybe she was havin’ a bath or somethin’?”

“Non.” Remy’s mouth twisted funnily before he quickly smoothed it into what Jean-Luc was quickly realizing was a mask. The boy would be a natural at poker. “Checked t’ make sure. All her stuff was gone.”

“I see.” Jean-Luc didn’t know what else to offer, but Remy didn’t seem to expect anything, as they pulled away from the hotel.

*******************

He traced the stitching along the fine leather of the seat with his fingers as he thought, watching out the window at the blur of lights, glad that his uncle wasn’t asking him awkward questions. He was still embarrassed that he’d over reacted – acting like some dumb bumpkin. He’d realized from the clothes and jewelry that his new found relatives had money, but he hadn’t realized quite how much money they had. A car like this? With a driver?

He’d been mortified at his mistake. It was a dumb one to make. What kind of mugger jumps out of a nice car, wearing a suit? He knew that he’d been more suspicious and jumpy since all the stuff with Jono went down, but there were limits.

More pressing at the moment was the bewilderment at finding his mother gone. He’d paid up front for a week – and had told her that. He was glad his uncle didn’t prod into exactly how he’d ‘checked’. The lock had only taken a moment to pick, but he’d been concerned that she’d taken too much of something or God only knew what. But all traces of her had been gone, except for a few empty food wrappers on the bed.

He didn’t know what to make of that – but in a way it he was grateful. What would have he said to her? How would he have just said goodbye and gone on his way again, knowing that without his father she was even more vulnerable on the streets? But yet, how was he supposed to save her from that? He supposed that’s why she’d left like she had – saving them the awkwardness. Maman never did like confrontations.

The further that they drove the larger and nicer the houses were getting. He snorted as he recognized a few from his old days. He hoped his uncle wasn’t friends with any of the people he’d lifted small valuables off of. It was a classy old neighborhood – the houses all in the ornate, sprawling style of a bygone era.

The car slowed, turning to passing through some ornate iron gates, taking them up a long drive. Remy blinked at the large house at the end of the lane. It was a stunning old plantation style home. And he recognized it. His heart began to pound, sweat pricking at the back of his neck.

Oh Dieu.

His uncle didn’t seem to notice, happily chatting about the history of the place as his driver opened the door for them and fetched his duffel bag from the trunk. He reached for it, but the man just carried it off and up the stairs as his uncle beckoned him on.

He stepped through the large doorway, eyes scanning the large entryway that was tastefully decorated with dark wooden furniture, and other priceless antiques. Remy idly wondered exactly when he was going to wake up. The problem was, he couldn’t decide if this was a dream or a nightmare.

The blonde that he’d seen at the funeral chose that moment to appear at the top of the staircase. “Papa!” she descended the stairs, looking regal even just in the casual jeans and shirt that she was in. She walked up to Jean-Luc and kissed him on the cheek, turning her dazzling smile to Remy. “I see you have brought us company.” Looking back at the stair case over her shoulder she leaned to the side a bit as if she were trying to see around a corner.

“Henri!” Her shout caught Remy off guard. It wasn’t as if she bellowed, but it was just more volume than he expected out of her.

In a moment the bald headed man’s face appeared above the railing in the direction that she’d been looking. “Oui? Oh! Pardonez moi.” He swiftly descended the stairs, one arm looping around his wife’s waist even as he held his hand out in greeting.

As he shook it, he caught a glance of Jean-Luc smiling broadly at the two of them. “Remy, dis is y’re cousin Henri. An’ his lovely wife…” his uncle chuckled at the look the blonde slid him. “…Mercy.”

“Bonjour.” He wished that the floor would just come swallow him up. What the hell could he offer these people? Shoving it all down, he hid it underneath the layer of charm that he struggled to maintain. Releasing his cousin’s hand he captured Mercy’s and pressed a quick kiss to the back of it, smiling at the way she laughed at him.

“You’re going to have to watch this one, Henri.” She gave her husband an affectionate squeeze and looked back towards Jean-Luc. “Do you want me to make sure that a room is ready?”

“Oui, make it the one at the end of d’ right wing, sil vous plait.”

She nodded and headed off, leaving Remy to face the two men.

“Would y’ like somethin’ t’ drink while we wait?” Remy nodded in silent answer and followed his uncle and cousin through a labyrinth of doors until they came to a sitting room. His uncle crossed the room to a cabinet, even as he waved Remy towards an armchair. Looking around, Remy could see that all the furnishings were quite as fine as they were at Xavier’s. He was suddenly grateful that he’d had the opportunity to become used to living in such wealth, even with all the problems that he’d had at the school. At least he wasn’t left here gawping like a landed catfish.

The whole difference between there and here was that there, he’d gone without worrying about consequences, just determined to enjoy himself – at least at first. Here, in his uncle’s home, he had no idea what expectations he was supposed to fulfill.

His uncle brought a tray with a fancy cut crystal bottle filled with amber fluid, three matching glasses beside it. He began to pour before pausing, looking at Remy somewhat abashedly. “I didn’t even think t’ ask…y’ could have coffee, or whatever y’d like if y’ don’t want scotch.”

Remy flashed his uncle a grin. “Non – scotch is just fine.” It would be more than fine really. He desperately wanted something to take the edge off.

Jean-Luc laughed in response and poured him a generous amount, passing it over. Both him and Henri took up there own and they spent a few moments sipping in silence. The scotch had that nice mellow woody flavor of well aged liquor, the kick of it quickly helping to calm him down. The silence gave him time to think though, which wasn’t as good for his nerves.

His uncle had just begun to say something when Mercy swept in the room. “I should have known that I’d find you all here.” She walked over to her husband, stealing his glass to take a sip out of it. “The room is ready Papa.” She looked back at Remy smiling warmly again. “Your things are already in it.”

“Bon.” Jean-Luc leaned forward setting his nearly empty glass on the tray. “Would y’ like t’ see it Remy? It’s been a long day for y’.”

Still feeling as if he was trapped in some bizarre fairy tale, Remy nodded, thriftily tossing the remainder of his Scotch down.

********

Jean-Luc had hoped that Remy would have taken his glasses off once they sat down, but he made no move to, continuing to hide his unusual eyes behind them. He’d already explained to Henri and Mercy about them, and had made firm mention to his staff to treat the boy as if nothing was amiss. Yet he supposed that Remy had probably had nothing but stares and adverse reactions to them, so he couldn’t blame the boy for keeping them concealed.

Henri and Mercy were doing their best to just act normal and relaxed around him though, which he suspected would eventually allow the boy to drop his guard with them. They both were a decade older than the boy, but that was still a lot closer in age than he was to him. Jean-Luc hoped they’d find common ground soon.

Remy moved with a controlled grace as he walked with him. It seemed to be totally unconscious on his part. Like a big cat on the prowl.

“So, breakfast is usually ready by eight. Y’ can find d’ dinin’ room if y’ head left once y’ get t’ the bottom of the staircase and keep goin’. Just follow y’re nose. Course, y’ can always sleep in if y’ want an’ the cook will fix y’ somethin’ later.”

Remy quietly nodded at that, seeming lost in thought. Ah well – the boy had been through a lot over the last couple of days. That was to be expected.

He led the boy up the staircase, and down to the end of the hall. “Dis used to be Henri’s room until he married Mercy.” Opening the door he ushered the young man in.

Remy froze on a spot on the carpet about 4 feet into the room, looking around with the oddest expression on his face. Jean-Luc wondered what was running through his head. Was he overwhelmed by the luxury of the room? Knowing that his cousin had grown up surrounded in all this, where he had probably had to do with much cheaper things was probably a bit troubling.

He was surprised when Remy practically leapt forward, scooping his bag off the bed where it had been left, slinging it over one shoulder. The boy turned to where he still stood by the door, crossing the room back to him, looking to walk past.

“Remy’s got t’ go. Don’t belong here.”

 

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