What lay ahead of Allison looked like a golden opportunity as she tried to organize her racing thoughts into coherent questions, each one that occurred to her feeling more pressing than the last. Better yet, it was an opportunity that Remy herself had given. She sat quietly, sipping her wine and patiently waiting for Allison to begin speaking. It was nearly perfect, but the moment’s one imperfection seemed to outweigh all else, defying Allison’s every attempt to settle on a single curiosity to satisfy first.

Remy’s mask of determination and calm was firmly in place, but Allison was certain that it was just that. It pained her to admit that she didn’t know Remy as well as she’d like to yet, but one bittersweet comfort was that she at least felt familiar enough with Remy’s expressions to know when she was putting effort into her stoic appearance. Remy continually shifted in her seat, making movements so small that they were nearly imperceptible. She wasn’t uncomfortable; she was fidgeting. She swirled the wine in her glass, but she didn’t look at it all, instead staring off into the distance. She wasn’t appreciating the wine; she was looking for something to do with her hands. To the casual observer, she would likely simply look bored, a worry that occurred to Allison before being immediately dispelled by remembering everything that had passed between them over the last several minutes. As much as there was to learn, Allison was certain that Remy wasn’t bored. She was nervous, and to a level that Allison hadn’t seen since they’d met under the wisteria tree in the park earlier that evening. She’d been relaxing and growing more comfortable as time went on, leading Allison to conclude that this sudden regression could only be the result of what was beginning to feel like a foolish request.

As she was trying to think of ways to back out of the conversation before it could begin, Allison glanced at Remy and noticed that Remy was looking back at her. No longer fidgeting, all of her energy seemed to be focused into studying Allison as intently as she was being studied, though without any of Allison’s subtlety.

“You’re worried. Why?”

Having nearly recovered from being startled by seeing Remy watch her so closely, Allison had to start over from the beginning as she heard the one question she didn’t want to answer. “Wh—what makes you think I’m worried?”

“You’re thinking entirely too hard for it to be about anything good.”

Allison huffed, frustrated by both the mild embarrassment of having been seen through so easily and the inconvenience of the fact that denying the suspicion seemed pointless. “I was just thinking that…that I might be asking too much of you right now.”

Remy took a deep breath before responding, looking as if she was bracing herself. “No, really…it’s fine. I can do this.”

There was a moment of relief that came from Remy’s look of determination, but Allison couldn’t ignore the effort that was being put into it. “You do not look fine. You don’t have to push yourself like this, you know.”

“But I…I want to!” Remy turned as red as her wine as she looked down at it, seemingly as surprised as Allison by how forcefully the words had come out of her mouth. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before going on, her voice slightly unsteady. “S—sorry. It’s just…well…remember when I said that I want to know more about you? Well, I want you to know more about me, too…even if it means showing the parts that might make you change your mind about me. It really is nice to be able to talk to someone who understands, but it’s also that I…I like feeling closer to you.”

It wasn’t the first time that evening that Allison felt her eyes threatening to overflow, but that didn’t seem to have any effect on the present, the sensation that her heart was in something’s grip still every bit as intense as it had been the first time she’d felt it. It felt as if it should be startling, but Allison found a sense of comfort in it instead. Remy had her heart in her hands, strong and determined as they cradled it with the soothing care of a lover while protecting it with the undying devotion of a knight in shining armor. That feeling was what made Allison understand what Remy wanted in that moment, and why she was willing to endure discomfort to get it. In a sense, it was the same promise that they’d made earlier in the evening to set their discomfort aside and move forward, having already reached the decision that a rocky path to a future together outweighed any present in which they were apart. As much as Allison hated the idea of Remy’s feeling any discomfort for any reason, she was willing to respect the decision she understood, however reluctantly. She leaned forward and brought her lips to Remy’s, her only way to express the emotions that overflowed and could no longer be contained.

When Allison pulled away, she’d reached another decision that she hoped would serve as a happy medium between their interests. “Well, I won’t be changing my mind, so go ahead and forget about that part.” When Remy opened her mouth to respond, Allison held a fingertip over her nose and silenced her before continuing. “Still, maybe we should just start slowly, just in case. Don’t be afraid to stop if you need to.”

Giving a faint smile and looking slightly dazed, Remy nodded. “Alright, but you’re still at the wheel. Ask away.”

Allison laughed softly as she pushed aside the warm, tingling sensation that flooded her at those words with a reminder to keep them in their intended context. “You make it sound like I’m conducting an interview.”

With a laugh of her own, Remy looked as if she was thinking for a moment. “Actually, given the situation, it might end up feeling more like a therapy session. Should I be lying down on the couch for this?”

There was another laugh from Allison, this time sounding slightly higher in pitch and sounding a little too excited for comfort. She stifled it, a knee-jerk reaction driving her to bring it to heel before it could give her away. Remy Dauphine, don’t you dare start tempting me. I almost have myself under control. “Well, I guess the first thing I want to know about is what you were like before we met…before you came to Violet Meadows, I mean.”

Remy looked as if she was thinking quite hard, her amusement fading as her expression became one of intense focus. “You know, when I think about it, I don’t really know what to say. I don’t think I’m any different at all aside from being happier.”

“Happier? How?”

“I’m Black, gay and an atheist. Living in an upper-middle class suburb in Louisiana wasn’t really doing me any favors.” Remy laughed softly, but something about what she saw in Allison’s expression seemed to urge her to press on. “Violet Meadows is a long way from Metairie. They might as well be in two entirely different countries that both happen to speak English. I never intended to end up here specifically, but I definitely intended to end up somewhere different. I’m better for it.” There was a note of sadness in Remy’s eyes as she looked away and quietly added, “It cost me, though.”

Another torrent of curiosity flooded Allison’s mind with questions, again leaving her too desperate for answers to know where to start. As she was attempting to settle on just one of them, she noticed that Remy’s look of sadness vanished in an instant. There was a moment of jealousy over how quickly Remy could bring her emotions under control and reshape her entire demeanor as she saw fit, a level of discipline that Allison could barely comprehend. The thought was quickly overshadowed by concern, however, as she realized that Remy apparently felt it necessary. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. Allison had willingly relented and accepted that the turn the conversation had taken was necessary even if it wasn’t going to be entirely comfortable, but she flatly refused to ignore Remy’s comfort entirely. She took a moment to refill Remy’s glass and, after taking a sip from it herself, she leaned against Remy’s shoulder and settled into a comfortable spot as she wrapped an arm around her waist. As she felt Remy take a deep breath and her rigid posture relaxed slightly, Allison restrained a sigh of relief.

With the tension in the air slightly eased, Allison settled on a question that seemed least likely to cause any distress as she kept things moving forward. “You said they speak English in Metairie. They don’t speak French?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Much to Allison’s surprise, Remy quietly laughed. “You’d think so. It seems like people tend to, at least, like with Lily and Montreal where there’s a more or less even split between French and English. That’s not really like in Louisiana, though…not any parts I’ve ever been to, at least. Aside from the names of places and a few words here and there, French is relatively rare. I can’t say for sure how other families work, but it seems like most people who speak it fluently do so because they grew up with it. I only learned it because I had to.”

“Had to? Why?”

Remy’s expression soured slightly, but it didn’t take her long to return it to its neutral resting position. “My mother insisted on it.”

Allison studied Remy as best she could without making it obvious. Her stoic demeanor was fixed in place and entirely unreadable, leaving Allison to take her best guess as to how to proceed. A change of subject at that point seemed not only obvious, but also a bit inconsiderate after Remy had already expressed a desire to discuss these things in spite of her discomfort. Deciding that there was no putting it off indefinitely, Allison decided to proceed as cautiously as she could manage.

“Why? Does your family speak French?”

Remy’s expression didn’t shift, making her short and bitter laugh cause Allison to briefly wonder if she’d made the wrong choice. “Not a word. That was probably why she insisted on it.” She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh before continuing. “I should back up a bit. See, for any of it to make any sense, you have to know my mother. She’s…”

When Remy’s voice trailed off, her mask cracked and she took on a look of concentration tinged with pain. In a panic, Allison reached up and kissed her jaw, then waited to see Remy’s expression change for the better before speaking. “I’m guessing she isn’t exactly pleasant.”

Remy gave another bitter laugh. “She’s lazy, narcissistic, manipulative, vindictive, desperate for attention and, as time goes on, increasingly unstable. Actually, now that I think about it, that’s exactly how I ended up speaking French.” She looked at Allison and smiled, seeming to notice her confusion before continuing. “I should back up again. At some point one summer, she got into an argument with my grandmother and one of my aunts about…something. I don’t even remember what. I wasn’t paying attention until the yelling started.”

Another question came to mind, and the concern that followed caused it to slip out of Allison’s mouth before she could stop it. “Was that normal?”

“Depressingly normal. They would wake up in the morning and start the day arguing with each other, and half of the time it would continue off and on until they went to bed mad. I swear, they screamed as much as they talked. I never could figure out why they could never just leave each other alone. They’d randomly show up at each other’s houses and spend half the day there, seemingly just to continue a fight that started earlier in the week. Then they’d go home and either spend all night gloating because they felt like they won or take it out on whoever was unlucky enough to live with them because they didn’t want to admit that they lost. Even when someone finally had enough and moved away, it was usually only a matter of time before they moved back, assuming they ever got far enough away for it to be too far to drive to keep an argument going. My mother crossed the entire country for college mostly to escape, but she just ended up right back in Louisiana where she started and it was back to business as usual. Even when they were apart, the fights just took place over the phone. It was like someone’s idea of hell and they all existed just to make each other miserable.”

As Allison struggled to imagine living that way, she thought about her own family. Setting aside the yelling, much of what she’d just heard sounded uncomfortably familiar. It took her a moment to look over and realize that Remy was watching her and looking wary.

“Sorry. I know I just dropped a lot on you there.”

Shaking her head, Allison settled back into her place on Remy’s shoulder. “Actually, I was just thinking that our families aren’t really all that different. Mine is just more subtle.” She wanted to explain as she saw a look of curiosity, but she quickly dismissed the desire as she remembered that this moment was about Remy. “So how did you end up speaking French?”

Remy sighed again, looking oddly irritated while also slightly amused. “By the time I was paying attention, the argument was about my grandfather. They were apparently going back and forth about who was or wasn’t respecting the family heritage, and at some point it came up that he was fluent in Louisiana French. He was Creole and grew up out in the woods, so that wasn’t exactly unusual. Where it took a turn was with my grandmother’s suggestion that everyone else in the family should be fluent, too. Something about how he didn’t spend enough time at home teaching his children about their history before he died.”

“Does your grandmother speak French?”

“Just enough to read a menu in a restaurant, but that was still more than anyone else in the family by that point. I guess that made her technically better than everybody else, and I suspect that’s how it all started. My mother probably got it in her head that she could show everybody up if she could show up to Sunday dinner one week and start speaking fluently. She started, but…well, it didn’t last long.”

Allison was taken aback. For someone who would put as much effort into an argument to let it span multiple days and go to as far as learning an entire language to win it, it was surprising that she’d choose that point to give up on it all. “So, she just…quit?”

Remy huffed, again looking both amused and annoyed. “Not exactly. Remember how I said that she’s lazy and manipulative? Well, that’s where I came in. She’s never been one to hesitate to carry someone else’s accomplishments around and show them off as her own if she could find the justification, and she always saw the accomplishments of her children as hers by default. All of the French language books she bought and stopped reading after two or three days got dropped in my lap by the end of the week.”

Allison’s eyes narrowed. “So…she just…made you learn French for her?”

“Pretty much. If I’d known better, I’d have pretended to be too stupid, but I doubt it would’ve worked. She knew me well enough to know what I was good at, and studying was always at the top of the list. On top of that, I was having fun with it and French isn’t really that hard to learn if you go all in. When she saw that I was interested, she started throwing anything she could find at me that was French. She even signed me up for immersion courses, and that’s where it really took off.”

“Immersion courses?”

“It’s pretty much what it sounds like. They just sit you in a room and speak nothing but French all day long. You’re not even allowed to speak English.”

Allison couldn’t stop herself from recoiling at the thought. “That sounds…cruel.”

With a laugh, Remy shook her head. “I’m making it sound worse than it was. French really is easy to learn if you’re a native English speaker. When you’re surrounded by it all day long, you can learn it entirely by mistake…which is about what happened, especially since it was summer and I had all day. By the time school started again, I was able to follow entire conversations. A year later, I was able to test and be officially recognized as fluent.”

For a moment, Allison couldn’t hide how amazed she was by Remy. “That’s…impressive.” Seeing Remy’s expression take a turn toward sadness, however, she immediately backtracked. “That’s…not impressive?”

Remy smiled sadly. “It’s not a bad thing, necessarily. It’s just…it would be a happier memory if I’d been allowed to just have fun learning something new instead of being paraded around like a dog in a show and constantly forced to perform tricks to entertain guests at parties. I lost count of how many times I’ve recited “Demain, dès l’aube” and “Chanson d’automne” for relatives who had no idea what I was saying, and all to spite someone I had been close to…up to that point, at least. It took me years to put two and two together and figure out why my grandmother always looked sad when I spoke French around her or why, after a few family dinners and demonstrations, she wouldn’t even look at me if she didn’t absolutely have to. It’s…frustrating, I guess. Even the parts of me that I kind of like come from something I hate.”

Allison was at a loss as to how to continue. As much as she wanted to be supportive, she was forced to admit that she was out of her depth as she slowly began to realize just how deeply Remy’s feelings about her past truly ran. Remy didn’t seem deterred, though, and she looked determined to persevere. Taking a sip of Remy’s wine, Allison decided that the best she could do in that moment was to stay by her side. It was the easiest decision she’d made all evening.

“Well, for the record, I like those parts of you, too.” Again holding up a fingertip and pointing it at Remy’s nose, Allison continued as if she hadn’t narrowly avoided being interrupted. “So, how did you end up in Violet Meadows?”

Remy sighed again and leaned back against the couch, gently squeezing Allison’s hand. Taking it as an opportunity to show support, Allison returned the gesture as she patiently waited. Seemingly emboldened by the reciprocation, Remy appeared to find the courage to carry on.

“That’s a long story of its own…but here we go.”