LI

Thiage and his girlfriend sat by the big, round table that had been laid for lunch in the garden by the shadow of the trees that surrounded the chateau, sharing stories about the wedding, when he saw Richie arrive, carrying Frédérique on his back. Richie gently put her down, kissed her and patted her butt before she walked over to the house and entered the service door.

Of course it had taken Thiage only a short while the previous night to do a little research on Richie, and he didn’t like what he’d found. At all. However, even more than his own judgment or the internet, he trusted his sister: he’d seen them interact while they danced at the wedding - it wasn't his lifestyle or celebrity status what attracted her (that much Thiage already knew), there was so much more: short of their palpable physical chemistry, there was a certain vulnerability to Richie that caused  Frédérique to truly and deeply care for him. And trust him, in a way Thiage had never seen before in her. And through Frédérique, Thiage was able to look past Richie’s public image and history into the goofy, easy-going, down-to-earth, overall charming guy.

It took only a couple of lines for Richie to attract the young couple’s attention and soon after greeting Thiage with a handshake and Romaine with a double peck, they engaged in conversation. Thiage’s English was correct, but not at all as fluid as Frédérique’s, so he struggled to get past Richie’s heavy Jersey accent, and Richie noticed how Thiage furrowed his brow slightly from time to time so he tried to tone it down a little. Thiage’s girlfriend, however, only got to interject a couple of observations here and there but her English wasn’t good enough to keep up with the conversation, so she just observed and laughed from time to time at Richie’s cartoonish expressions.

In the end, Thiage couldn’t help but like Richie: despite the fact that he doubled his age, his boyish half-little-teeth-half-gum honest smile totally won him over. During the course of the past year or so, Thiage had noticed how Frédérique had apparently chosen loneliness over a hurtful relationship - or being with someone out of fear of being alone - , and judging by her overall happy and balanced state in comparison to previous times, Thiage had come to accept that maybe she had made the right decision by remaining alone. Nonetheless, he just couldn’t come to terms with the idea of his sister being alone forever, and only hoped that Richie would be the one to prove him wrong.

Richie’s cell phone buzzed – “Fred”. It was a code. Immediately another text from her: “You might need this to open my door”. Richie smirked and his eyes sparkled: she was officially letting him back into her life again and he wasn’t going to fuck things up this time. He'd get it right, for once not for himself, but for her. 

The rest of the family joined the table except for Frédérique and her mother, who took some more minutes to walk out of the door arm in arm. The previous night, only after the last guests to the wedding had left, had Frédérique finally found time to tell her parents about Richie and explain his presence there, making a long story short by telling them how they’d met and how much she loved him, but that they’d grown apart for a while for different reasons – which she spared them – and how happy she was that he'd come unexpected, and that they’d gotten back together. They were ecstatic – they hadn’t seen her this happy in years, and the fact that she was opening up to them was even more of a relief. They’d asked with concern how he felt about her condition, and she had assured them that he was supportive and understanding.

On arriving at the table, Frédérique found Thiage trying to teach Richie how to pronounce her name.

“Yes, it’s like Frederick but ends with kuh, that’s what makes it a girls’ name”, Thiage told him. Duh. That was all he asked for, he’d try to get Richie to pronounce the ‘r’ the French way some other time in the future when he had gathered more patience.

“Leave him alone”, she ordered in their native tongue with a chuckle and slapped his brother softly on the back of his head as she sat next to Richie.

“Wait, look”, Richie told her, and tried a couple of times until he finally got it and then looked at her with a satisfied grin, squeezing her thigh and kissing her on the cheek after she clapped her hands and cheered.

As they ate he observed the different interactions amongst the members of the family – they spoke mainly in French but from time to time either Frédérique translated or somebody said something in English so he’d understand. They completely embraced him, it felt natural and comfortable - just like it had felt since the first time he’d met Frédérique. He might have been in fact a stranger to them, but he didn’t feel like one at all.

They were all well-educated, refined and easy going. Richie was only ten years younger than her dad (who didn’t look his age at all thanks to his abundant hair and a Beatles’ haircut that gave him a kind of Andy Warhol look), and her mother’s age (who if by judged for her looks, anyone would think she must haven given birth to Frédérique by the age of twelve), but they didn't seem to have freaked out about it. How hard it must be for Frédérique - even when it was her choice - to be away from her family. How lonely she must have felt. But she wasn’t alone anymore, and he wouldn’t let her be alone anymore - at least not for as long as he walked this earth. He debated with himself whether he despised or thanked the bastards that had made her suffer and felt a little selfish: their loss and her suffering, but his gain.

After they were done with lunch they remained seated and drinking wine for a well additional half hour. Frédérique silently took Richie’s hand in hers and entangled their fingers together. While the rest of the family continued their loud conversations, they stared into each others eyes, little smiles curling their lips.

She sighed: everything felt right, it was meant to be this way. Yes, but even in a bed made of roses, there were still thorns hidden underneath the soft petals: hard times would come, for sure, but they’d be there for each other. He made her happy, and she’d devote herself to make him happy in return. A rush of excitement ran through her body: she couldn’t wait to start the rest of her life with Richie.

Richie glanced at his watch and realized that soon they should be at the airport. Doing some quick math he confirmed that it was too early back there yet, so he'd call his daughter from the aireport. As disappointed as he was the previous night at having to leave, now a rush of excitement invaded him: he couldn’t wait to go back to the States and start his new life with Frédérique.

Thiage spoke and interrupted their meditations, looking at his watch and standing up. “Not that I want you to leave, but you two should get going”. They both nodded. Richie took Frédérique’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, then with a grin he asked.

“Ready, gorgeous?”

She replied with a wide smile. “Never been more ready, baby”.