Beau and the Beetle

The bakery was running just like how it used to. Tom was in the kitchen, Bridgette stocked shelves and cleaned, while Sabine worked the register. They had finally fallen into a routine, and it was good to feel normal and productive again.

Sabine had apologised to Bridgette for overreacting, and Bridgette had returned the sentiment for being presumptuous and insensitive. They had been a little awkward, but after the fiasco in the police station, their relationship had mended. Now, it felt like Bridgette had always been a part of her tiny family.

Sabine still thought of Marinette at times, particularly when she swept the kitchen floor, and brushed over the secret hatch under the worktable. But she shoved those thoughts and feelings aside, certain Marinette had passed away by now.

When she had first entertained the idea of letting Marinette die, she hadn’t known how hard it would be, and after some effort at decreasing the supplies she sent down, Sabine found it easier to stop altogether, rather than let Marinette waste away slowly. It was kinder on both of them, in the long run.

Initially, Tom had asked after the letters Marinette sent back. However, Sabine had stopped reading them before she cut Marinette off. It was too painful, reading about the decline in her daughter’s mental and physical state, so she threw them in the fire, unread. To Tom, she simply reiterated the usual things Marinette told them about in previous letters. He didn’t even question her.

Sabine suppressed the maudlin thoughts in favour of focussing on the present, and the living. Bridgette had a birthday coming up soon, and Sabine wanted to throw a party for her. She and Tom would make the cake, as was their tradition, and Bridgette could invite all her friends from school. Their house was small, but they could always host the event at the park, around a picnic table.

The idea had a certain charm, and if she were stealthy enough, Sabine could extend the invitations without Bridgette being any the wiser. It was a novel idea, and Bridgette had earned a reward after all her hard work.

Sabine nodded in satisfaction. She would make the suggestion to Tom later, and see what he thought.

Nadja Chamack entered the store, the bell jingling merrily as it was nudged aside.

‘Hello, Nadja. How have you been?’ Sabine greeted her, warmly.

‘I’m well, thank you. How are things here?’ Nadja looked around. ‘No little helper today?’

‘No, Bridgette is spending time with friends. Something about a new game. Where’s Manon?’

Nadja shook her head with a rueful laugh. ‘With her father. Since he’s been home, she hasn’t let go of him once. Naturally, he can’t say no to her baby-doll eyes.’

Sabine joined in the indulgent chuckling. ‘He’s been away on service for a long time. No wonder she missed him. I assume you’re here to pick up a special treat for his return?’

‘You assume correctly. What do you suggest for a man who hasn’t had a decent sugary dessert in over six months?’

 After Sabine described what they had to offer, Nadja purchased a fruity flan and departed. Sabine watched her go with a fond smile, glad her long-time friend had her husband back safe and well.

The day passed peacefully, with Bridgette returning home right on sunset.

‘Did you have a nice day, Sweetie?’ Sabine asked, as she wiped down the counter.

Bridgette locked the bakery door behind her, recognising the usual closing-down preparations. ‘Yeah, though I was sad Felix wasn’t able to join us.’

Sabine frowned. ‘I’m not sure I want you associating with a boy who nearly killed his own brother over money.’

Bridgette exhaled a weary sigh. ‘It wasn’t about the money, Aunt Sabine. Felix had his life’s work just taken away from him, so he went a little off the deep end. He panicked, but he’s very sorry, and Adrien’s forgiven him. He’s not a bad person, really.’

Sabine remained unconvinced. Unfortunately, she knew that trying to prevent Bridgette from seeing him would only push her into his arms. Her shoulders drooped in defeat.

‘Well, maybe you’ll be a good influence on him. But I want you to tell someone the moment he makes you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, ok?’

‘Yes, Aunt Sabine,’ Bridgette drawled. Then she smiled, kissed Sabine’s cheek, and went upstairs, calling out a greeting to Tom as she passed.

Bridgette was a good child – obedient, hardworking, and friendly. But she also had a stubborn streak, and could be argumentative at times. Faults and the occasional conflicts aside, Bridgette had become a surrogate daughter, easily sliding into the place Marinette had once occupied. It was nice to feel like a mother again, and she knew Tom doted on her, just like he used to with Marinette.

Sabine heaved a content sigh, then finished cleaning the shopfront. She met Tom at the base of the stairs, and they went up together, arms linked with matching strides.

Everything was just like how it used to be.