T Novan - Exposure Season 4

And they are mine. For better, for worse, I am now a Kingsley. Since I can’t imagine anything worse than growing up in my family, it can only be better. Although my father is coming around nicely. He’s here too, with Amanda. Little Claire is over at our house with the twins and her New York nanny. Dad was thoughtful enough to bring down their nanny so Brian could attend tonight’s party with Doug. It’s so weird to think that my sister is at home playing with my children. At least, she’s a cute kid. I wonder if I’ll ever feel like she’s a sibling. I highly doubt it. Kinda like how I’ll never consider Amanda another mother. My own is bad enough, thank you very much.

"Ma petit!" Mama calls to me, waving me over. Now this is a mother I want to be when I grow up.

"Oui, Mama?" I murmur as she takes my hand and pulls me over into the circle of friends she’s speaking to.

"I wanted to introduce you to Sister Clarice. She taught Harper when she was knee high to a grasshopper."

I laugh at the thought of my tall spouse ever being quite that small. I hold out my hand to the nun. "Hello, Sister. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Harper told me she was quite a handful when she was at your school."

The old nun’s eyes crinkle as she thinks back to Harper’s antics. "We often wondered if she would live past the twelfth grade. Rumor has it, she has."

I smile, grateful beyond all measure that Harper is alive and well. I remember the events of last fourth of July all too clearly. "She has. She’s over there," I point out my spouse who has now joined her brothers, "and she’ll be surprised to see you here."

"No doubt. I think we finally managed to get all the chicken feathers cleaned out of the orchestra pit this year." I smile, remembering that story very well. It was very funny. "Although the doorframes have never been quite right since the incident."

Oh, this should be interesting. "What incident?"

"Harper had taken to carrying a lighter around. We never caught her smoking, but she would often pull out the lighter and light things."

Uh oh. "Such as?" Oh, Tabloid, I’m gonna start writing down these stories so that when you rant and rave at our kids, they’ll have some ammunition against you.

"The attendance slips on the door. At the time, the teachers would mark absences on a sheet of note paper and post it on a clip on the doorframe. During the period, one of the office aides would come by and collect the slips. One day, Harper went down the hallway setting them all afire."

I burst out laughing, and quickly cover my mouth to muffle the sound. I would have loved to have seen that. I can imagine it quite clearly. "Was anyone hurt?" I finally manage to ask.

"Oh no, she helpfully pulled the fire alarm at the end of the hallway."

I definitely starting a journal. Collin, Brennan, you two are going to thank me for it later.

Lucien sits in the chair and rubs his jaw, thinking about the question. Fatherhood has recently aged him, for the better, giving him a maturity and substance previously lacking. "Some of my earliest memories are of us as a family at the dinner table. We never ate a meal anyplace other than the dining room table. No TV dinners on trays in our household. That’s something Raich and I are trying to do with our boys.

"I remember that we always had to say grace before every meal. Mama would make each of us boys say a prayer thanking God for our dinner. One night, Mama served red snapper, rice and green beans. There wasn’t one thing on his plate that Robie liked. He was only three at the time, and he wasn’t very good at hiding his feelings. Harper was just a baby and exempt from prayer time.

"So before we start eating, Mama makes us all pray. Gerrard prays and says, ‘Thank you, God, for this fish and rice.’ T-Jean goes next and says, ‘Thank you, God, for green beans.’ It was my turn then and I said, ‘Thank you, God, for the fish and beans.’ Robie was last and he prayed, ‘Thank you, God, for beignets.’" Lucien laughs, the moment still fresh in his mind.

"Mama wasn’t very happy. But I recall Papa was trying to keep from laughing. Robie has always had a lot of Papa in him. Papa always tells it like it is, no matter who might want to hear it differently. Over time, I think all us kids have come to respect the faith Mama has, and share it. I don’t know that I’d be considered a good Catholic, but I’d like to think that Mama’s ethics have spilled over on me. That’s something I’d like to impart to Jake and Stevie."

I go to Nonny’s table and lean down to kiss her cheek. It feels as thin as parchment under my lips, and I worry that my kids might not remember her. She pats the cushion of the seat next to her and I drop down onto it.

"How are the beautiful babies?" she asks smiling, knowing how much new parents love to brag on their kids.

"Perfect. Both of them are rolling over and starting to try to crawl. Soon nothing in the house will be safe."

Nonny laughs knowingly. "I remember. One day, when your Mama was very young, someone came to the door. It was Sister Agnes from the local parish. I went to talk to her and brought her back into the kitchen, where I had left your Mama. But when we came into the room, we couldn’t find her. I was so scared! She was just a baby, could only crawl, couldn’t speak but a few words. I looked at the backdoor, terrified a crocodile have come in and taken her back to the bayou. I was about to run out to the cane field to find your Grandpere when we heard a banging of pots. Your Mama had crawled into the lower cabinet with the pans and was sitting in one of them, playing happily."

Go, Mama! "That’s partially why we bought locks for all our cabinet doors, Nonny."

She pats my hand, her fingers cool on my skin. "You are a good mama, Harper."

"I’m just trying to love them. That seems to be the most important thing."

"That and feeding them."

I have to laugh.

"What are my first memories of Mama and Papa?" Rene frowns and thinks back several years. Her family lived near Mama’s in the Bayou, and she was around our family a great deal before Robie had the sense to make her a part of it. "I remember Mama over at Nonny’s house. She was there to help with the harvest and Uncle Remy had asked her to drive the cart hauling it in. They had this huge horse, Antoine, who pulled the cart. Mama was sitting up there on the full load and yelled, ‘Pull, Herbert, pull!’ Antoine just stood there. She then yelled, ‘Pull, Pierre, pull!’ Antoine still stood there. Then she yelled, ‘Pull, Antoine, pull!’ Spitfire began pulling the cart, and took the harvest up to the barn."

Rene shakes her head and chuckles at her memory. "I followed her up there and asked why she kept calling Antoine by the wrong name. Mama laughed and patted the horse affectionately. She said, ‘Ol’ Antoine here is blind. If he thought he was the only one pulling, he wouldn’t even try.’"

Crossing her legs, Rene smoothes out the fabric idly. "I think Mama used the same psychology raising her brood."

My father comes over and extends his hand. I am impressed by how good he looks each time I see him. I think a happy home life agrees with him. I’m glad to see him get a second chance. "May I have the pleasure of this dance?"

I take his hand, noticing how small my hand still is in his. Suddenly, I feel like the little girl I never got to be with him. He leads me out onto the dance floor and I am almost tempted to place my feet on top of his, feeling as if I need to learn how to dance with him. "I’m so glad you were able to come down for the party, Dad."

He glances over toward Mama and Papa, a wistful smile on his face. "Anyone who can stay together forty years deserves a party. I only wish I could be around for yours and Harper’s fortieth."