Second Chances

It had been a few weeks into the summer and Stephanie had come up with an idea on how to get Remy and her dad together. She had taken the time to talk to Matthew and get his view on things as well as observe more of Remy's home life. On a Tuesday morning, she woke up and was struck with an idea that she had never thought of before. The corners of her mouth curved upward in a confident smile as she threw her covers off and rubbed her eyes before making her way downstairs for breakfast.

Matthew sat at the kitchen table, picking at two hot blueberry poptarts. He wore his pajamas, still, and left his hair a mess. Matthew had been barely awake when Logan came home from work at 7AM. It was now 9AM and he had barely moved from his chair, other than to fix four poptarts of different flavours. Blinking tiredly and turning to look at his sister as she happily bounced into the kitchen and over to the refrigerator for a box of orange juice and a plain bagel. "What're you so cheery about?"

"I have an idea." Slicing the bagel and shoving the two halves into the toaster, she pushed the button down to toast and turned around to see Matthew had also turned around and now stared at her while taking slow bites of his cooled poptart. "Is dad asleep?"

Matthew took another bite of poptart and didn't bother to wait until he cleared his mouth before answering, "Yeah. What's the idea?" He chewed another bite and waited for her to now finish spreading butter on her bagel and join him at the table. Following her as she took the chair across from him, she only smirked and took a bite of a bagel and chewed.

After swallowing the second bite and punching the straw into the box of juice, Stephanie decided to let her little brother in on the plan. "I need you to tell dad I went to the library."

"Why? He'd never buy it."

Stephanie chewed her fourth bite and glanced over at the living room to see if Logan was standing there. "I'm going to go talk to Mr. LeBeau."

Matthew scrunched his nose in confusion. "What're you gonna talk to Remy for? And if yer gonna do that, why do you need me to tell dad you went to the library? He lives across the street."

Stephanie sighed as she realised her brother was still waking up. "Not Remy. Mr. LeBeau, his dad."

"Oh." Matthew finished his first poptart and tapped at the second with his fingers. "Why do you wanna talk to him? I thought he and Remy didn't talk much."

"They don't." Finishing her bagel part, Stephanie picked up the second piece and continued her thought, "I'm going to talk to him because maybe he knows more about Remy than Remy is willing to say. He knows how Remy lives, breathes and maybe dreams. So, if I ask the right questions, he might help us get them together."

Matthew picked up his second poptart and held it in front of him. "Are you sure he'll help?"

"What would you suggest?"

Matthew thought for a moment. "Well, Mr. LeBeau isn't one of Remy's supporters for his lifestyle so, you might be talkin' to a wall. I'd go with a friend of Remy's. Why do you wanna get Remy and dad together, anyway?" Taking another bite of his second poptart, Matthew had moved to examine the white frosting on the top of his nearly half gone pastry while he waited for her answer.

"Have you ever listened to dad when he's talking about Remy? It's the same tone he used when he'd talk to mom. And, I think we already know Remy likes dad, that way." Stephanie slurped down the rest of her juice before another bite of her bagel.

"Since when did you join Team LeBowlett?"

Stephanie paused at the mention of the melded names. "Let's just say I have a new understanding of things. If anything, Remy can show you how to keep your room clean." Standing up and grabbing her plate to finish her breakfast upstairs, she restated her question, "Will you help, or not?"

"Yer gonna get in trouble, you know." Matthew took a second to think about their pending actions. "I guess. But, if it backfires, I don't know you."

"Deal."

~~~~~~~

A knock on Jean-Luc's office door hadn't deterred him from crunching numbers on his brand new calculator. "Come." He had been working from home this week and wasn't expecting any visitors but he figured it was only Remy coming to give him office updates. When he looked up from his checkbook, the visitor was not whom he had expected. "May I help you?"

Stephanie swallowed and steeled herself from the nerves that told her to back up and go home. "Mr. LeBeau, my name is Stephanie Howlett. I'm-" she was cut off and waved over to a chair, in front of the desk. Her auburn hair had been neatly pulled back into a solitairy braid down her back, leaving only her thick bangs to hang down over her hazel eyes. She had dressed in a nice long, dark blue skirt with a magenta blouse, rolled at the sleeves. Her shoes had been plain but nice navy, flat dress shoes that her mother had worn and Stephanie was just now growing into them. Her feet were small and thin so they tended to slide around but, felt fine and comfortable when she walked.

"Logan Howlett's daughter. You and your father live across the street from my son, Remy. What can I do for you, petite?" Jean-Luc put down his pen and folded his hands on his desk. He admired her courage for coming to see him, eventhough he didn't know why. Yet.

Stephanie took a deep breath as she sat down across from the elder LeBeau. "Mister LeBeau, I'm here on behalf of people who want to cheer Remy up and help him move past the death of his lover. It's been over a year and, from what we've seen, he hasn't been himself. More to that, he's seeming like a recluse." She hoped she hadn't come on too strong in her choice of words but she felt that if she addressed the matter as it stood, she'd have been luck appealing to the business sense of Remy's father than anything.

Sitting back in his chair, Jean-Luc smiled at how adult she seemed in her presentation. "You are endeavouring to cheer my son up? What do you propose?"

Stephanie bit her bottom lip and raked her top front teeth over it. "I know you have issues about Remy being-- gay-- and I have also been trying to get used to the idea, as well. But, well, it seems what makes Remy happy is easy to figure out. Ever since he moved in, across from us, he's had a crush on my father. I've talked to my father about what he thinks of Remy and- although he won't give me a straight answer, I think he does have some feelings toward Remy. When I talked to Remy, he really didn't deny it but he also didn't confirm anything." She paused to take a breath and let what she said sink in to the busy elder LeBeau.

"How do you feel about de whole thing, petite?" Jean-Luc tilted his head and remained open to her ideas.

"Well," Stephanie shifted in her chair to cross her legs and rest her elbows on the arms of the chair, "I have to admit that I wasn't really interested in it, at first, but after my brother's accident," she took a deep breath and paused a moment before continuing "let's just say I understand more about him than I did before. I know Remy keeps his personal life to himself and that he's had it rough for being who he is but, since Alex died, he has been everything but himself. When my mother was killed, it was hard for my brother and I because we were kids. It was even harder for my dad because he had to deal with grown up feelings and arrangements and certain things that adults do for that stuff. Before Remy moved in across from us, dad rarely smiled or laughed and really meant it. It's like the life went out of him, after mom died. And, I saw it happen to Remy after Alex but, he had someone right there that my dad never had."

Jean-Luc leaned forward again and folded his hands in front of him, on his desk. "Impressive assessment, Miss Howlett. Remy has indeed taken a liking to your father, and I can see that Logan has enjoyed my son's company, as well. However, I think your father may not see my Remy as you might suggest. No? It is your attempt to have your father matched up with my Remy, oui?"

Stephanie nodded, hesitantly.

"As a parent, I have tried to steer my son in de right direction and, for de most part, he's been a good boy. Though, I would like to see him together wit' a fille and grandchildren, I don't think that would happen, now. Whatever de cost now, I just want to see Remy happy, in whatever he chooses." Jean-Luc paused a moment and studied Stephanie's face before continuing. "How would you suggest getting dem together?"

Stephanie took a breath. "Well, I know you're having the company picnic soon and everyone will be there. So, I was kind of hoping that, perhaps, you would help get them together?" Polishing her original idea as she spoke, she also listened to Jean-Luc's small twists of the plan and applauded his unique ideas. She had small assumptions that her dad and Remy had already made tiny steps closer to the goal but wasn't exactly sure of the technicalities, let alone her age might have played a role in the mix.

Jean-Luc had been watching Remy's demeanour change, around the office, when Logan was on shft. He noted Remy's casual and sometimes sly wink or glance up at the security cameras when Logan sat in the booth, watching the footage playbacks before rounds. Jean-Luc made notes of Logan's small gestures, as well. He surmised that Logan's motions were somewhat stiff but the emotions to the movement had been clearly obvious.

~~~~~~~~

A few hushed knocks at Remy's office door, before it opened softly and Jean-Luc slipped in, gave Remy a moment to take a breath and sit back from his plans that were starting to make him cross-eyed from staring at them too long. The room was lit for the evening time with a table lamp, a rose-coloured base with an energy-efficient bulb, adorning the small round endtables on either side of the sofa as well as a small, wired desk lamp

"I have de plans in front of me, poppa. Been workin' on dem all day and they ain't makin' a lick of sense. In fact, s'givin' me a headache." Remy had glanced up to see his father, over the bright glow of the desk lamp, and then immediately turned his attention back to the plans in front of him. He had been glancing at them off and on all day and had gotten just passed nowhere with them. They hadn't made any sense, even in the proposal, from the other company who had asked Remy to take over. His ponytail that he usually kept neatly brushed and shiny now looked frayed and off-sides from him scratching his head or pulling absently on the tail. He stood up and placed his hands on his hips, in thought.

Jean-Luc sat down in the chair, across from Remy, and knitted his fingers together as his elbows rest on the arms of the chair. "Well, I think you might have to change a few things, to make it work. Dey knew dey were handed you a mess. Been three weeks and dey harrassin' you for de finished building but give you shit to work wit'." He leaned forward and saw Remy had several pieces of scratch paper with endless equations and angles of doorways to work through the muddle but only seemed to back himself into a proverbial corner.

"Poppa, in order for de building to even be legal, I'd have to change de entire t'ing." Remy leaned over and planted his hands flat on the desk, on either side of the plans and stared intently on the center of the drawing.

Jean-Luc remained silent but examined Remy's expression, the way his eyes glazed over when he stared at the plans and then he would snap out of it and seem to think of something else. By the casual grin, Jean-Luc wondered if Remy was now thinking of the building's Chief Security, Logan. There was a slight twitch in the right corner of Remy's mouth that repeated every few seconds. Nothing drastic and noticeable but something so subtle, a microscope would have been needed to point out the movement. He smiled covertly at the randomness of Remy's thinking and stood up to excuse himself from the office. "S' late, mon fils. Go home, get some rest and think about dis mess in de daylight, non?" He could tell Remy wasn't listening and that he was too far gone thinking of something he much rather enjoyed than being in a stuffy office with plans drawn to thoroughly confuse a rat trap. "Remy!"

Looking up, Remy let the happy expression and thoughts drain from his face.

"Go home, mon fils." Jean-Luc turned and started for the office door. "Dere's no business here dat can't wait 'til morning." Finishing his statement, Jean-Luc turned and winked knowingly back at Remy and then exited the room, leaving Remy to catch on to the thought and call it quits for the night.

A hiss and a sigh as Remy sat down in his chair and turned away from his desk and the plans that made no sense, to stare blankly out the window to a darkened parking lot. He had been amased to find how dark it had gotten since his last attempt to leave his office, earlier in the afternoon. It was the final moment of sunset when the sky turned from deep purples and oranges to plain black. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes with a finger and thumb and then pinched the bridge of his nose to thwart an on-coming headache. Another sigh as he turned the chair and pushed himself to stand up. He felt tired and achy. Remy stretched, raising his hands above his head, clasping them and turning his torso from left to right in attempt to loosen stiff joints. Letting out a deep exhale, Remy shut off the desk lamp and numbly walked to the first of two table lamps and reached down, through the large, open white shade and turned the small black knob off before moving to the lamp closest to the door.

Remy grabbed his suit jacket from the coatrack, casually slipping the garment on, he glanced over at the desk and paused there a moment before shaking his head and turning off the second table lamp, enveloping the room into darkness, save from the lights outside that filtered in through the bare office window. Shutting and locking his office door, Remy paused to think of anything he might have forgotten but when nothing came, he shrugged softly and turned for the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~

The night was warm and clear as Remy sat in a folding chair, in the driveway. He had turned the motion sensors to his outside light off so there would be no flash of blinding light to prove just how much alcohol he was consuming. He sat there, staring across the street at Logan's mostly dark house and noticed a faint glowing dot hovering on the porch. Squinting his eyes as the red dot moved slightly, a grin played on his lips as he raised his right hand and waved over to Logan. He took another sip of his beverage and smiled again as Logan had started strolling over to meet him. "Dere's cold beer in de fridge and a chair against de cabinet." His thumb pointed the way behind him to the open garage door with a plain white, 50's style refrigerator first on the right and a newly put together tall, tan work cabinet beside it, leaving a foot of space between the two for the two folding chairs.

Logan grabbed the second folding chair and opened the refrigerator's door to retrieve an ice cold bottle of Coors Light out of the three different brands Remy had placed very neatly on the two wire shelves. Shutting the door, he admired the classic appliance and could faintly see the pastel blue colour in the evening light. "New fridge?" With the chair in one hand and the still capped beer in the other, Logan glanced down to see Remy had already drained three of six beverages and was working on a fourth. The empty bottles were lined up neatly along the bottom door of the tall cabinet, holding a flattened six pack box against the door. The silver box stood out against the filtered moonlight almost pleading with Logan to save his friend from total drunkenness.

Remy turned in his chair to answer and watch as Logan brought the chair to set up to his left. "A friend needed one dat worked so I gave him de one dat was dere. Poppa had dis one in de basement so, I fixed it up and kept it. Nice, eh?" He turned back as Logan sat down and unscrewed the cap to the bottle before taking a long sip.

"Real nice." Logan said under a sigh of relaxation. "Long week, huh?"

"Oui." Remy took another sip of his and turned to look up at the starlit sky. It was finally Friday and Remy had spent the better part of the afternoon and evening getting over a migraine from the nonsense building plans and the disappointment of the original architect as he looked over the newly constructed plans with doorways that actually lead into rooms, instead of walls and stairs that lead up to a second floor rather than just into single rooms. Remy could laugh about it now but earlier that morning he had been so upset that the designer fought to get the original plans back and completed for inspection. Remy yelled and enforced that any building inspector would never see such a workplace of five stories as a sound and stable building. The architect was a brainless half-wit and Remy felt it right to advise the man of such soundings.

They sat there in silence for a while, sipping their beverages and enjoying the cooling temperatures with every 15 minutes that passed. Remy could smell Logan's aftershave and took long inhales, casually, of the man to his left. Logan smelled of Afta and Remy had never smelled anything like it before. He enjoyed the crispness and tartness of it as Logan wore the scent well.

Logan watched as a shooting star sped along the blackness of the night's sky before fading away shortly after starting its hurried journey.

Remy had caught Logan's line of sight and leaned over to whisper, "s'posed ta make a wish." He winked as Logan's eyes travelled from the sky to his and added a smile to sweeten the deal.

"What did you wish for?" Logan nudged a grin and leaned in closer to Remy, keeping his voice low.

Remy straightened his expression and leaned back in his chair, fixing his stare at the end of the driveway. "When I was little, I had dis tall, upright five-drawer, brown dresser. I remember de top drawer was above my head. I knew what was in it, jus' sweatshirts an' stuff, but I was terrified of dat drawer. Don't know why. Well, I remember one night, my momma was gonna put a knitted sweater on me. It was white wit' red shoulders and open at de neck. She'd scrunch it up so dat it was just a quick over-de-head pull but I was so scared of dat top drawer-- an' what was in it. Dat sweater came outta dat top drawer. Anyway, I would stop her, every time she tried ta put it on me an' run an' get every toy I had." Remy paused to laugh at the memory. "She finally gave up an' let me wear a jacket dat zipped up, instead. My fear continued until one day, poppa made me stand in my room an' he pulled de drawer out ta show me what I was so afraid of. He told me dat I had to be a 'big boy', now dat I was six years old." Pausing and sighing as he bowed his head and closed his eyes, Remy took a long breath and inhaled the scent of Logan's aftershave. "Every day after dat, I spent tryin' ta be a grown up; doin' whatever grown ups do an' tryin' ta live how dey live. I have most of it, all except de love of a lifetime part."

Logan didn't answer all at once. He wasn't sure what to say to comfort Remy in his moment of disclosure. "What happened to the dresser?"

"Hm? Oh, I kept it for a few more year, until I was tall enough to see over de drawer an' look inside. Finally got rid of it a few years ago. Don't remember what happened to de sweater." Remy shrugged and scratched his head as he pictured the white and red sweater his mother had knitted for him.

Nodding and finishing his beer Logan looked over at his neighbour as Remy contained a yawn. "It's gettin' late. C'mon, I'll tuck ya in, seein' as how I doubt you could make it up the stairs without a nap or two." He watched as Remy finished his beer and let Logan remove it from his hand to set it down on the cement before helping Remy to stand. He left the chairs and bottles sitting in the driveway while he practically carried Remy into the house via the garage door that lead into the laundry room and then into the kitchen.

Logan sat Remy down on the stairs to search for the lightswitch. Finding one in the kitchen, Logan turned around, after turning the soft white light overhead on, to find Remy had stretched out on his right side, on the carpeted stairs and fell asleep. He stood there and admired the lanky Cajun that curled his right arm under his head while the other held on to stair below that one and his feet almost stood on the third to last stair. His cool expression was that of peace.

Remy lay there before Logan quietly came over and scooped him up, carrying him up the rest of the stairs and over to his bedroom. As Logan lowered Remy's head onto the pillow, Remy lurched awake and wrapped his arms around Logan's neck, holding him there. Pulling the blanket up, between them but just barely shoving himself away, Logan knew Remy was already half asleep and in no full control of his actions. "It's gettin' late. Time to rest, now." Moving slowly down Remy's long legs, Logan removed the bright, white sneakers that dangled off of the bed, placing each limp foot underneath the thin white cotton covers. Gentle, even breaths let Logan know Remy had fallen asleep. Raising both hands up to unlock Remy's thin arms from his neck, Logan finished tucking the young man in and tip-toed over to the door.

"My story come wit' a moral, ya know." Remy spoke from under half-lidded eyes.

Logan paused and turned around to lean against the corner of Remy's side-by-side, beside the door. "What's the moral of the story?"

Remy still lay on his back and blinked but didn't open his eyes any wider. "Sometimes what's in de top drawer isn't somet'in' to fear. It's really jus' dere to protec' you from de elements. Mah mother made dat sweater. She tol' me dat if I wore it, nothin' bad would ever happen ta me; dat it protec' me. I wore it for de firs' time I held my best friend's hand. She'd tell me dat 'love was a leap of faith' so, I hope you find your white knit sweater, Logan." Clearing his throat, Remy sniffed and rolled onto his left side to whisper, "bon nuit, Logan." He closed his eyes and before his second breath, Remy was sound asleep.

Logan stood and turned the opposite direction as the door as something in his ear nagged at him to glance at and pick up the small, 5x7 frame that sat so perfectly on Remy's dressertop. The man was a younger Jean-Luc and the elegant young woman, Logan presumed, was Remy's mother. They stood there against a New Orleans backdrop, looking so in love and content as they smiled brightly for the camera. With Jean-Luc in a tan suit with black tie and tan fedora and his mother in a slim peach dress, about to go out for a romantic evening alone. Logan blinked and sighed as he looked up at Remy's sleeping body, replacing the picture carefully before silently exiting the room and closing up the garage, replacing the chairs to their cubby and going home.


Continued.