Gee watched as the woman who bore him into this world rushed forward and embraced the C’amine girl. Both were crying now. He held his bowl awkwardly, shifting it about in his hands unsure as to whether he should give the women more privacy or to simply remain where he was. The sharp glare that Charlene gave him as he adjusted position on the bed was telling; he should remain. It was a contrast to the tender look that crossed over her face as the Maitresse gazed down at the weeping forms. Gee took another bite of stew to stave off the situation.
It was good. Rich with the familiar scent of slow-cooked beef and all the trappings of a proper bourguignon. Onions, thyme, prostratus, his mother must have raided nearly every cupboard to make it. He savored another bite, chewing slowly as he watched the women console one another and wrap still more blankets about the girl. It wasn’t that he was numb to the emotions that had enveloped the room, but more that he wasn’t sure what to do about them. A slight acidity lingered on his tongue from the sauce. Wait. She didn’t.
A quick glance over to the counter and Gee confirmed that his mother had, in fact, found the five year old bottle of port that he had been saving for a special occasion. Its cork set askance to one side and the bottle itself standing in shame with most of its contents emptied. He took in the pitiful sight of such a special treat having been flippantly used for a mere stew. It looked lonely there, the red glass standing amongst the wood browns and a backdrop of white snow from outside the window just behind.
Like a C’amine in a lake surrounded by strangers.
Gee took another bite. A successful rescue could be considered a special occasion, he supposed. There was also a little left. Maybe he’d have it later with some Le Saint-Marcellin. The citrusy cheese would pair well and Gee should still have some… somewhere.
He noted the relative quiet and could see that the C’amine girl had calmed enough to resume eating. His mother had pressed her own spoon into her hand and bid the girl to not mind the one on the floor; Gerard would clean up the mess, it was his house after all. Gee sighed and stood. A torn shirt repurposed into rags was removed from the bucket by the door and the dirtied spoon and floor were wiped. Now what to do with the spoon? The tub had dirt and fur floating in it and he’d just be served a lecture if he were to place it back on the table. He cast his eyes about looking for a solution, but nothing stuck out to him. He could feel the awkwardness seeping in again as he stood there blankly staring at the implement, and the longer he stood motionless the more he could feel the stares. So Gee did the first thing that came to mind. He stuck it in his pocket to wash later.
It started as a chuckle, a soft huffing that made Gee worried he had set the poor girl off again. But as the huffs became chirping cries and the entire mountain of blankets shook with mirth, Gee blushed as the C’amine girl pointed at him, the floor, and his pocket again and again. Charlene and his mother did not share the same levity but neither commented as they passed satisfied, meaningful glances. Oh yes, good ol’ Gee to the rescue with an aptly timed social fumble. His blush only grew as he returned to his bowl on the bed and forced himself to take another spoonful. This really was some good stew.
“Well, now you know why I keep telling you to get this place plumbed.”
Gee ignored his mother’s voice and ate another bite. Very good stew.
“Bah, he’s ignoring me again. Always the child! Never would listen to sound advice. Join the church I said. Put plumbing in your shack I said. Eat more than just meat and potatoes I said. At least you’re not embarrassing me in front of the Ladies Court by chasing skirts like your older brother. Some small miracles, I suppose.”
Gee took a firmer bite than usual and his teeth left small imprints on the wooden spoon.
“I do suppose it is besides the point. Thank you, Charlene.”
Best stew ever. It had to be, it had his special five year aged port in it.
“Now, girl. Do you have a name?”
Gee looked up. Despite the tears still in her eyes, the C’amine girl now had a small smile. Her hands had lost much of their tremble as she spelled out the letters. A fist with thumb hidden behind three fingers. Two fingers up together. Thumb peeking out from behind the pointer and middle finger. Just her pinkie. Another fist, thumb to the side. Mutia. A pretty name.
“Mutia. A lovely name. What do you say, Mutia, about staying with Charlene and I here? A packless girl like yourself would not last long on her own and I have a spare room thanks to Mister Fournier here. We would find you a trade and see that you are cared for until you are able to strike out on your own. How does that sound?”
Ears bobbed as Mutia nodded and Gee swallowed the snide remark he had built within. The barbed comments and pushiness were not enough to damper the care that his mother had for people. He just wished that the woman would save some of those kind words she gave others for him as well. Gee’s spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl in vain.
“Very good. Seeing as we have a few hours of sunlight left, Mister Fournier will escort us into town and to the main house. We will have need of his arms to carry a few items for us.”
“I really should go retrieve my gear.” Now that Gee’s tongue was no longer distracted with a hearty meal, it reigned free over him. “I can’t think of anything that you ladies would need that would require me present. ‘Sides it sounds like you’ve got everything well in hand now”
Charlene sighed and flicked a few choice words in his direction as Gee’s mother did the same aloud.
“Do act the gentleman your mother raised you to be, Gerard.”
“Mister Fournier, I raised you better than that. No one else goes mucking about in the forest like you do, boy. Your things will still be there tomorrow. Come, you shall carry these blankets.”
As with most things involving his mother, Gee sighed and let it happen. The cauldron was covered and set on the table and the dishes, including the spoon in his pocket, were placed alongside. Every fireplace had enchantments to prevent it from spreading, and it was mostly coals for cooking anyhow. Another two logs were placed and Gee hoped it would be enough to stave off the chill long enough until he returned. The tub was left as it was. He’d drag it outside and empty it later.
The walk to town didn’t take long, and Gee just listened to both his mother and Charlene tell Mutia what everything was as they moved along. That was Farmer Dockett’s field where the best squash this side of the mountains was raised. This was Aunt Grady’s pasture where benign horses pawed at the snow looking for any remaining greenery. As they left behind the packed dirt road and onto the paved streets proper, Mckinley’s Bakery, home of the famous thousand layer croissant, Hepburn’s Hostel and Eatery, and so on with each shop they passed. Gee tried to get in a word edgewise as he realized they were detouring to Lady Meredith’s Boutique, but his mother spoke up loudly that only a fool would let a poor girl wear ill-fitting clothes. Surely he was no fool and would happily accompany such fine company and bear their purchases like a proper gentleman.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
And thus, Gee waited not so patiently as Mutia was bundled inside and found himself folding the quilts that he had been carrying this whole time. He stood there, meekly waving at the occasional passersby in greeting, and began to wonder if he shouldn’t have placed a third log on the fire. Thankfully, after having waved goodbye to Terrence Guiseppe and his children who had chanted about “Quilty Gee on a shopping spree” while he assured Terrence that he would indeed be at card night and that this time Terrence wouldn't win so easily, the door to Lady Meredith’s opened and Charlene poked her head out.
“We will be a while. Your mother requests that you take those to the laundress and tell them to have them delivered to the house.”
Gee turned to make his way, but Charlene caught his arm. Her other hand flowed from chin outwards.
“Thank you.”
“Welcome.”
He delivered the quilts and relayed the request. An elevated eyebrow came in response and Gee could hear the telltale signs of gossip already forming as he shut the door to Colombe’s laundry. He sighed for what seemed the hundredth time that day as he made his way back to the boutique. Gee took his time, breathing in the chilly air and watching his breath plume up into the alabaster and turquoise sky. The feeling of the cobblestones beneath his boots kept him grounded as he rolled over the day’s events in his head. The lake and rescuing Mutia. Running home to his mother because he didn’t really know what else to do. Running to the Watch and asking if they had heard of any missing persons. Being told no and asked whether he’d be present at the next card night. Giving a noncommittal answer. Eating a stew. Pocketing a spoon. Watching how Mutia’s sorrowful yet bright eyes sparkled as she laughed.
Wait.
No. Watching as Mutia, the poor girl, told them that she was alone in the world and was then caught up in the whims of his mother. Being all but forced to visit the home he grew up in. Knowing that he’d probably be required to stay for dinner and be subjected to retellings of his brothers’ amazing and happy lives as they navigated the not so fierce politics of Terraides. Being in the company of a woman whose scarlet fur looked so luxuriously soft even when frazzled and matted from her time spent in a lake. No. Accompanying two overbearing women on a shopping trip as they found themselves someone to fuss over besides grandchildren.
The ringing bell of the boutique signaled to Gee that there were likely packages to carry. Most likely the reason why his mother had him take the quilts to the wash. His hands were free now. He stepped inside and was immediately proven correct as he became not so graciously burdened with several boxes. The inane chatter of idle conversation moved around him as he stood ready to depart. Yet, as the women lingered, Gee couldn’t help but steal another glance at Mutia.
She was an emaciated thing, her cheeks were sunken and her posture was hunched. She clutched at one of her sleeves and rubbed furiously as she tried to shrink away from the boisterous sounds of Gee’s mother proclaiming that such a pitiful creature should be doted upon. The fur about her face had been groomed and looked almost silken in the way that it shined in the light of enchanted lamplight. It was such a small face, petite with sharp angles that drew the gaze towards and accentuated her brown eyes. Eyes that had looked upon him with such sparkling joy, however temporary it had been. Her tail with its white tip curled demurely about her waist had been gone over with a brush as well. Now no longer sorry and thin from being waterlogged, its volume had seemingly quadrupled and each light twitch sent adorable puffy shadows dancing across the floor. No.
Gee averted his eyes in time before anyone caught his open stare and returned to waiting not so patiently. The poor girl had clearly been through too much. His mother and Charlene had it handled. Gee’s place was in the woods with his fishing pole. He frowned. Hopefully he had treated the wood well enough so it could handle a night in the snow. Ash was expensive and usually reserved for bows. He didn’t think he could negotiate another branch from the fletcher. Gee counted what was left of his coin mentally. Not even close to enough. He’d have to do a few more surveying jobs to afford another. Or find another grove that could be marked for harvest. He’d have to go farther afield for that though. The closest ones wouldn’t be ready for at least another year or so.
“Very well then! I expect to see your latest samples at the next Court. I’m certain that everyone will be pleased with the new pattern, Meredith dear.”
It was finally time to go. Gee carefully balanced the packages he was laden with and followed behind the women as they made their way through the rest of town and up the stone ramp that led to the main house. He nodded to himself as the girl slowly began to open up enough to ask the occasional question about what was to be expected of her in her new life. His job was done and he would return to his fishing poles and trees. Mutia would probably end up apprenticed to Charlene and stay at the main house and that would be the end of that. Unless his mother dragged him up for another visit, this would be the last time he would see the girl. There were plenty of other pretty faces around town. Maybe he’d try his luck again with the new serving girl down at the bar. What was her name again? Colleen? Gee was pretty certain it was Colleen. He had stopped listening to her once Terrance had won yet another hand.
Another one of his mother’s loyal retainers met them at the door. With immaculate grace, Old Reynard swept up the bundles from Gee’s arms and handed them off to an awaiting helper. A new face, Gee noted to himself. Probably one of Old Reynard’s grandchildren. Gee had lost track of the man’s enormous family sometime before he had left the house. Even with his graying fur, Old Reynard still carried himself with the same level of decorum that Gee could remember from his childhood. The image of propriety was then immediately spoiled as the old C’amine grinned at him, his tongue lolling out and his head cocked to one side. This was accompanied by a flash of memory of a tiny Gee throwing a ball about the yard and Old Reynard happily returning it to him amidst giggles. Old Reynard’s fur was still mostly golden back then.
“Will you be at card night?” A surreptitious box was drawn behind the backs of the women ushering Mutia further inside.
Gee winked and nodded.
“See you then. Ol’ Renny needs himself a new watch chain and you’re gonna pay for it.”
Gee stifled a small groan as the man referred to himself using the nickname that Gee had labeled him with as a child even as he smiled back. His hands deftly spun through the motions as he replied in the language of the Friends. “Not if Terrence doesn’t fleece us both first.”
Old Reynard chuckled and bid his farewells as he returned to his typical image of the no nonsense butler and slid away to oversee what was most likely the preparation of the evening meal. Gee’s smile was slow to abate as he looked for his own exit. His mother and Charlene were still occupied with giving instructions on how Mutia would be taking over his old room. Gee thanked the Gods for the distraction and began inching his way back out the door. He had nearly gotten away with it and had taken the first step on the stairs before his mother’s voice made him jolt.
“Mister. Gerard. Fournier.”
Gee turned slowly. “Yes, mother?”
Her face was tired. Tired as Gee had ever seen it before, and he watched as the woman sighed and shook her head.
“I suppose you do not wish to stay for dinner?”
“No, mother.”
“Very well then.”
Gee blinked in mild surprise before descending in hasty retreat before she could change her mind. He had gotten down the stairs and onto the path before she called out again. He stopped and turned around, sighing as he did so.
“You did well today, my son. I am proud of you.” Miss Laurent’s face was warm and the smile accentuated the laugh lines upon her face. “I have never been so proud to see you as a woodsman as I have today.”
“Thank you, mother. I love you too.”
“Now, be off with you, and don’t let me catch you and Reynard talk about gambling behind my back again.” With that, Gee’s mother strode back into the house and shut the door behind her.
As Gee made his way home to his little cabin by the woods and his fishing pole and his trees, he smiled as he remembered the last dregs of the five year old port sitting on his counter. Perhaps today was a special day after all. Now, where did he hide that cheese?