And it came to pass...
"You got a package, Mum! Who is it from? Is it from Killarney? Paris? Oh, did Aunt Julie write from the opera?"
The young girl of fifteen bounced about the room in her excitement until she landed in one of four chairs at the small round table. Mira looked up from the letter she had been reading by the sunlight streaming through the window. She looked up across the table at her daughter, her grey-blue eyes and dark blonde hair so much like her father’s now, so full of life as he had always been.
“Glasgow, love,” Mira shook her head and laughed softly at her daughter’s enthusiasm. “Your Uncle Billy. And he sent a new photograph of Jordan. Would you like to see?” Placing the letter aside, Mira picked up a small envelope and handed it across the table. “Open it carefully, Catherine. I don’t want it creased before I can put it in a frame.”
Catherine opened the picture and smiled. “Oh, he is growing up handsomely!” She bounced back out of the room and up to the decorative mantle in the adjoining room. Mira stood slowly and followed her, leaning on the door jamb and smiling. “Oh, Mum, he looks just like Uncle Elijah in this one! Look!” Stepping to stand next to Catherine, Mira studied the framed photograph of Elijah, taken when the war began, and noted the similarities to the young boy in the photograph Catherine held up next to it. Mira lifted a hand to her mouth as silent tears filled her eyes. But there was a smile behind the hand, and Catherine gently place her arm around her mother’s frail shoulders.
“Mum,” Catherine spoke softly. “I wanted to ask you. I am old enough, now. I’m almost an adult. I know what makes babies and such. But you have never told us who Jordan’s mother was. I know Billy and Elijah were both fathers to him, but he isn’t Billy’s son really.”
Mira turned to face Catherine and took her hands. “Yes, Jordan is very much Billy’s son. As much as he ever was Elijah’s. Don’t ever doubt that. But… I understand your question.” Mira paused and sighed, gathering her thoughts before replying. “Jordan’s mother was… someone Billy and Elijah both trusted very much and who offered to do this freely. She was compensated, but I’m sure she would have done it without the compensation. It doesn’t matter now. She has a life of her own now and is very happy, and Jordan is loved and cared for… and spoiled rotten if you ask me.” Mira chuckled as she thought inwardly of how much Billy had spoiled her and Elijah in the past, and now Jordan would be the product of that same abundant affection that flowed from his heart.
“Shall I take the photograph to show Armand?” Catherine asked, deciding the answer to her other question had satisfied her enough for now. But her answer came from the hallway behind her. A lanky redhead of fifteen turned the corner into the main parlor where they were, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as he walked. “Show me what?” he asked, and Catherine proceeded to show him the photograph of Jordan.
“What did the letter say?” Armand asked as he took the picture and sat in a wingback chair near the fireplace.
“Your Uncle Billy sends his love to you both and hopes you will visit before the summer is over. Perhaps you can go while you are on holiday in Killarney?” Mira took the matching wingback adjacent to her son and smiled at her children in turn.
“Mum, do we have to go to Killarney again?” Catherine complained. “It is beautiful, but there is nothing to do there! All our friends are here.”
Mira smiled and bowed her head. It wasn’t often she wanted to be without her beautiful children around her, but once a year, two weeks alone with their father was always a treasure.
“Yes, but Uncle Billy has a new automobile since last year,” Armand piped up. “And in his last letter he said he would teach me how to drive it!” With this he and his twin sister began to argue with each other using counterpoints that only a teenager of their modern world would value so deeply.
“You two finish getting ready to go,” Mira finally interrupted as she stood and began to gesture with her arms for the kids to leave the room. “Armand, finish putting your suit on. Catherine, you are going to need more pins in that hair. I want you both ready in five minutes or we will never get to the estate in time for dinner.
Armand left the photograph of Jordan in his chair as he and Catherine left for their respective rooms, and Mira picked it up and neatly folded the envelope around again. She walked back to the mantle and studied the framed photographs of Elijah and Billy in their places of honor among family photographs so neatly framed for display. Behind her was the sound of someone entering the house echoed through the foyer, and Dominic entered the main parlor.
“The chaise and four is ready. The driver says with this beautiful weather and the ground so dry we should make it in less than an hour.” Dominic stepped up behind his wife and placed his strong hands on her shoulders. “Is everything alright? I saw someone arrive with a package.”
Mira turned and kissed her husband softly on the lips, then replied as she pulled away, “Everything is fine. Billy sent a letter and a new photograph of Jordan.” She handed the envelope to Dominic who in turn opened it. His lined eyes seemed to make his change in countenance all the more severe, and he traced his fingers over the picture while he stared at it for a long silent moment.
“He looks so much like his father,” Dominic finally said, tears now glistening in his eyes. Mira could only nod as her own tears returned, and she rubbed Dominic’s arms as she swallowed back the lump in her throat and raised her shoulders for strength. Dominic pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “It is still so hard to believe he’s gone.”
Mira sighed. It was a grief they would never completely put behind them, but they had to try. He would have wanted that. “Billy sends his love. He hopes he can see the kids soon. Hopes Jordan can spend time with them.”
“That would be good,” Dominic nodded and smiled, forcing back his sadness, closing the envelope. Setting the photograph aside, he took Mira into his arms and nuzzled her neck. “I can hardly wait to have you all to myself again.” Mira closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his lips as the trailed kisses over the soft skin just above her lacy collar.
Armand entered the room and cleared his throat to announce his presence. Dominic pulled back slowly and smiled at his son. “Looking handsome in that suit,” he remarked. “But straighten your tie.” Catherine followed dressed much like her mother in an Edwardian blouse and perfectly tailored skirt, her hat pinned neatly on her head and her posture that of a much older woman than her fifteen years. As she kissed her father’s cheek and bid him a good morning, Dominic’s pride in his children beamed as brightly as the summer sun bending through the windows.
Dominic rushed the kids out. “It looks like everyone is ready. The chaise is waiting for us. Go on before we make ourselves late and miss the first course.”
As Mira followed, she paused and turned back to her husband before exiting, speaking in a low voice and devious grin. “I have to ask you about another letter that came. From an American publishing company. It was an unsealed card, so I took the liberty of reading it. What is this about a trip in August?”
Dominic returned a sly grin of his own and spread his arms wide. “Surprise!”
Mira gaped. “Are they… publishing it? Really?” Dominic nodded slowly and grinned proudly, and Mira hugged him with delight. “Oh, that is wonderful! But… that means you will be there while Armand and Catherine are on holiday.” Mira pulled away slowly, her enthusiasm dashed almost immediately.
Dominic leaned in and placed his forehead against Mira’s, still grinning. “Correction,” he said. “We will be there. You and I. On our own. For a whole month. In New York City.”
Mira’s excitement returned. It would be her first trip to America after dreaming of it for so long. She squealed with delight and hugged Dominic again. “I can’t believe it! And you didn’t even tell me! Sly devil. Always mon renard… always!”
Dominic kissed Mira slowly and sensually, groaning with pleasure at tasting her excitement through her lips, taking him back to the first year they met. Finally he had come to believe he deserved this. Finally, he knew he would never lose this woman in his arms. Finally, he did not fear what his future held for him.
“Merci, Ma Dame Rouge!” Dominic replied. With a sweep of his hand, he gestured toward the door. “Let’s go… life is waiting for us!”
[OOC: I cannot express enough the utter joy I have experienced playing in this my first role-playing game. I do not know if in future experiences whether I will ever have such a memorable character or know as enjoyable of interactions with such extraordinary fellow players and writers. Mira stands here complete for all to enjoy for as long as LOTR Bohemians lives in our hearts and at livejournal.com.]
The young girl of fifteen bounced about the room in her excitement until she landed in one of four chairs at the small round table. Mira looked up from the letter she had been reading by the sunlight streaming through the window. She looked up across the table at her daughter, her grey-blue eyes and dark blonde hair so much like her father’s now, so full of life as he had always been.
“Glasgow, love,” Mira shook her head and laughed softly at her daughter’s enthusiasm. “Your Uncle Billy. And he sent a new photograph of Jordan. Would you like to see?” Placing the letter aside, Mira picked up a small envelope and handed it across the table. “Open it carefully, Catherine. I don’t want it creased before I can put it in a frame.”
Catherine opened the picture and smiled. “Oh, he is growing up handsomely!” She bounced back out of the room and up to the decorative mantle in the adjoining room. Mira stood slowly and followed her, leaning on the door jamb and smiling. “Oh, Mum, he looks just like Uncle Elijah in this one! Look!” Stepping to stand next to Catherine, Mira studied the framed photograph of Elijah, taken when the war began, and noted the similarities to the young boy in the photograph Catherine held up next to it. Mira lifted a hand to her mouth as silent tears filled her eyes. But there was a smile behind the hand, and Catherine gently place her arm around her mother’s frail shoulders.
“Mum,” Catherine spoke softly. “I wanted to ask you. I am old enough, now. I’m almost an adult. I know what makes babies and such. But you have never told us who Jordan’s mother was. I know Billy and Elijah were both fathers to him, but he isn’t Billy’s son really.”
Mira turned to face Catherine and took her hands. “Yes, Jordan is very much Billy’s son. As much as he ever was Elijah’s. Don’t ever doubt that. But… I understand your question.” Mira paused and sighed, gathering her thoughts before replying. “Jordan’s mother was… someone Billy and Elijah both trusted very much and who offered to do this freely. She was compensated, but I’m sure she would have done it without the compensation. It doesn’t matter now. She has a life of her own now and is very happy, and Jordan is loved and cared for… and spoiled rotten if you ask me.” Mira chuckled as she thought inwardly of how much Billy had spoiled her and Elijah in the past, and now Jordan would be the product of that same abundant affection that flowed from his heart.
“Shall I take the photograph to show Armand?” Catherine asked, deciding the answer to her other question had satisfied her enough for now. But her answer came from the hallway behind her. A lanky redhead of fifteen turned the corner into the main parlor where they were, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as he walked. “Show me what?” he asked, and Catherine proceeded to show him the photograph of Jordan.
“What did the letter say?” Armand asked as he took the picture and sat in a wingback chair near the fireplace.
“Your Uncle Billy sends his love to you both and hopes you will visit before the summer is over. Perhaps you can go while you are on holiday in Killarney?” Mira took the matching wingback adjacent to her son and smiled at her children in turn.
“Mum, do we have to go to Killarney again?” Catherine complained. “It is beautiful, but there is nothing to do there! All our friends are here.”
Mira smiled and bowed her head. It wasn’t often she wanted to be without her beautiful children around her, but once a year, two weeks alone with their father was always a treasure.
“Yes, but Uncle Billy has a new automobile since last year,” Armand piped up. “And in his last letter he said he would teach me how to drive it!” With this he and his twin sister began to argue with each other using counterpoints that only a teenager of their modern world would value so deeply.
“You two finish getting ready to go,” Mira finally interrupted as she stood and began to gesture with her arms for the kids to leave the room. “Armand, finish putting your suit on. Catherine, you are going to need more pins in that hair. I want you both ready in five minutes or we will never get to the estate in time for dinner.
Armand left the photograph of Jordan in his chair as he and Catherine left for their respective rooms, and Mira picked it up and neatly folded the envelope around again. She walked back to the mantle and studied the framed photographs of Elijah and Billy in their places of honor among family photographs so neatly framed for display. Behind her was the sound of someone entering the house echoed through the foyer, and Dominic entered the main parlor.
“The chaise and four is ready. The driver says with this beautiful weather and the ground so dry we should make it in less than an hour.” Dominic stepped up behind his wife and placed his strong hands on her shoulders. “Is everything alright? I saw someone arrive with a package.”
Mira turned and kissed her husband softly on the lips, then replied as she pulled away, “Everything is fine. Billy sent a letter and a new photograph of Jordan.” She handed the envelope to Dominic who in turn opened it. His lined eyes seemed to make his change in countenance all the more severe, and he traced his fingers over the picture while he stared at it for a long silent moment.
“He looks so much like his father,” Dominic finally said, tears now glistening in his eyes. Mira could only nod as her own tears returned, and she rubbed Dominic’s arms as she swallowed back the lump in her throat and raised her shoulders for strength. Dominic pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “It is still so hard to believe he’s gone.”
Mira sighed. It was a grief they would never completely put behind them, but they had to try. He would have wanted that. “Billy sends his love. He hopes he can see the kids soon. Hopes Jordan can spend time with them.”
“That would be good,” Dominic nodded and smiled, forcing back his sadness, closing the envelope. Setting the photograph aside, he took Mira into his arms and nuzzled her neck. “I can hardly wait to have you all to myself again.” Mira closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his lips as the trailed kisses over the soft skin just above her lacy collar.
Armand entered the room and cleared his throat to announce his presence. Dominic pulled back slowly and smiled at his son. “Looking handsome in that suit,” he remarked. “But straighten your tie.” Catherine followed dressed much like her mother in an Edwardian blouse and perfectly tailored skirt, her hat pinned neatly on her head and her posture that of a much older woman than her fifteen years. As she kissed her father’s cheek and bid him a good morning, Dominic’s pride in his children beamed as brightly as the summer sun bending through the windows.
Dominic rushed the kids out. “It looks like everyone is ready. The chaise is waiting for us. Go on before we make ourselves late and miss the first course.”
As Mira followed, she paused and turned back to her husband before exiting, speaking in a low voice and devious grin. “I have to ask you about another letter that came. From an American publishing company. It was an unsealed card, so I took the liberty of reading it. What is this about a trip in August?”
Dominic returned a sly grin of his own and spread his arms wide. “Surprise!”
Mira gaped. “Are they… publishing it? Really?” Dominic nodded slowly and grinned proudly, and Mira hugged him with delight. “Oh, that is wonderful! But… that means you will be there while Armand and Catherine are on holiday.” Mira pulled away slowly, her enthusiasm dashed almost immediately.
Dominic leaned in and placed his forehead against Mira’s, still grinning. “Correction,” he said. “We will be there. You and I. On our own. For a whole month. In New York City.”
Mira’s excitement returned. It would be her first trip to America after dreaming of it for so long. She squealed with delight and hugged Dominic again. “I can’t believe it! And you didn’t even tell me! Sly devil. Always mon renard… always!”
Dominic kissed Mira slowly and sensually, groaning with pleasure at tasting her excitement through her lips, taking him back to the first year they met. Finally he had come to believe he deserved this. Finally, he knew he would never lose this woman in his arms. Finally, he did not fear what his future held for him.
“Merci, Ma Dame Rouge!” Dominic replied. With a sweep of his hand, he gestured toward the door. “Let’s go… life is waiting for us!”
[OOC: I cannot express enough the utter joy I have experienced playing in this my first role-playing game. I do not know if in future experiences whether I will ever have such a memorable character or know as enjoyable of interactions with such extraordinary fellow players and writers. Mira stands here complete for all to enjoy for as long as LOTR Bohemians lives in our hearts and at livejournal.com.]