"Why's he being so weird about his secret girlfriend?" Estelle whispers.

I'm helping her prep dinner. I was wrong about most of the stuff she was cooking. For lunch, we have a few smaller foods we can peck at like birds. A cheese tray, some meats and vegetables and nuts. Estelle's been slaving away over dinner since the crack of dawn. She refuses to let me help her. Even now, as I've just finished setting the table and she is rapidly stirring gravy on the stove. Everything should be good to go in a minute.

I laugh, "you've met my siblings. Wouldn't you want to hide your relationship from them?"

This is Estelle's first-time meeting Caro. Of course, she's seen Bastien, more in passing than Stéphane. Still, she must be able to tell how annoyingly invasive they are. Caro told Spencer that she and I have similar hands, so if he wants to pick out a ring soon she's around to offer help. Bastien keeps stealing Caro's wine, since she could be pregnant, and I think she's going to deck him soon. He's getting progressively drunker, but we're getting food in him in less than ten minutes so it's fine. I'm not able to hide my dislike for Cletus, even if everyone else has gotten over the hump of hatred. So like, of course Stéphane doesn't want us to meet his girlfriend.

Spencer isn't quite my boyfriend though, so this is fine.

"They've been together for like, most of a year or something, right?" Estelle asks. "Do you think he's playing her? He's twenty-nine so she must be expecting something serious. Unless she's younger. Do you think he's dating like, a twenty-two year old? That would be so gross."

"Stéphane wouldn't date someone younger than Bastien," I roll my eyes. Then, I shrug, "maybe he's gay, Estelle. Just because Bastien's out, doesn't mean Stéphane feels good about it. I don't know."

Estelle takes her hands off the gravy to crack her knuckles then goes back to madly stirring.

I tell everyone to start to move toward the table, since dinner will be ready soon. The large dining room table was a must, even if there usually aren't more than three people eating here at once. We'll be able to serve ourselves there. I swear someone is going to knock over a wine glass and stain the white linen. Or worse. I told Estelle fake candles would be better, but apparently, I don't understand atmosphere. This might be true. I write like an academic.

I head to the bathroom, since it feels like there is something between my teeth. The door is slightly ajar. My hands push on the wood, and on the other side stands Caro. She quickly dabs at her face, turning away from me.

"Caroline," I manage her name, stepping in the door and shutting it firmly behind me. I'm not thrilled at the idea of leaving Spencer alone with my brothers and Cletus, but I look at Caro carefully.

Most of her face is visible because of the mirror, though she has her back turned to me. Her mascara is streaking under her eyes as she bows her head. I open the cabinet, pulling out some cotton pads and passing them to her. Carefully, she pats under her eyes. Only then does she spin to see me. Her face is bright red, despite the foundation she wears, and it is almost puffy.

"It's not Cletus."

We're Bouchards. Practiced liars, rotten at it.

"Caroline Julie Josee-"

"It's not Cletus," she chokes. "I knew you'd assume that because you're only just starting to come around to him, but it's not him."

I scowl, crossing my arms over my chest. The bastard is in my dining room, about to eat my food, and Caro is crying in front of me. If I could get away with it, I'd kill him.

"It's not him!" she insists.

I sit on the lip of the bathtub. My hair falls around me. I've been so careful to keep it in place today. Caro's makeup is a mess.

"We've..." she hiccups. "We've been trying, and we haven't had any luck."

I look up at her, furrowing my brow, "trying?"

Her face twists, nose tight, lips pressed in. She turns and stares at herself in the mirror. Caro carefully presses her fingers against the swollen area under her eyes.

"It's our ninth month," she tells me. "I'm on my period, again."

The math is quick it my head even if numbers often allude me. Nine months, but they've only been married for seven. They've been trying since before the wedding.

"Nine months isn't that long," I tell her. "You've still got time."

"I did everything right though," she points out. "I'm twenty-seven. I'm married. I don't drink, eat the right foods, I go for a run every morning and do yoga every day after work. I'm trying so hard."

She looks back at me. I get up pulling her into a hug.

"It's my fault," her voice is muffled by my blouse. I try to pull back but she grips me tighter. "Cletus knows too. You should... I'm expired. He knows it. It's all my fault."

I roll my eyes only because she can't see me, "it could be his fault."

"Nothing is ever his fault," she croaks, then her voice goes into a whisper. "He's trying to be patient, but I don't know how much longer we can handle this."

I rub her shoulder, finally pulling back, "don't cry again. Your makeup is so pretty now."

She grins, the quietest of laughs and tears leak out the sides of her eyes. I brush her hair out of her eyes and finally we pull apart. Estelle is going to be waiting for us, but I'll give us just a second more. There's no use wallowing now.

"If Bastien says anything else about the wine, I'll kill him."

Caro laughs.

I hear a bang, and shouting. Caro's eyes widen, and I don't stick around, wrapping my hand around the door to the bathroom and bursting down the hall. The shouts are from inside the condo. I struggle not to slip on the floor with my socks. Just barely, I barrel into the dining room.

There's a broken plate on the ground, a dent in the wall.

Bastien is shouting obscenities in French at Cletus, swearing over top of the jazz song on the radio. Spencer is between them, Stéphane has arms wrapped around Bastien and pulls him back. The only one not involved is Estelle, who's back is pressed into the wall.

"Stop," I yell in French at Bastien, the tone of the word my mother would use when we were in the most serious of troubles.

He stops for a second.

"Nobody messes with Caro," he manages.

He looks past me, and she is standing in the doorway behind me, face suddenly pale.

"I heard what he said, in the bathroom!" Bastien turns and looks at Cletus, switching languages. "Everything's her fault, is it? Huh?"

I grab Caro and start to rip her out of the room. Her lip is quaking. Estelle is quick to follow behind me. Once they both are out of the dining room, I let go of Caro, and step back inside. Her face contorts but I slam the dining room door before she can race back in. I press my back into the door, knowing one of them, both equally likely, are going to try to get back in.

"What are you-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Bastien shouts, interrupting Cletus.

The door handle beside me jerks. I press my back harder into the wood, feeling the knocking against my spine.

"You didn't get the full context," I manage, glaring at Bastien.

"Calm down," Stéphane adds. "Use your words, not your fists."

"Thanks Papa," Bastien stops struggling to look at Stéphane. "I forgot you were my Dad. Remind me, who's step-mommy?"

Stéphane looks at Cletus than at me.

"You're just mad because you're too much of a pussy to fight," Bastien hisses.

Stéphane lets him go, shoving him forward. Bastien jolts into the table. Spencer grabs it, stopping it from toppling over. The door slams into my back. There is no way I'm letting Caro in. Cletus is looking at me though, and I'm shaking my head. There's no way he's getting out of here either. Just because Bastien shouldn't beat him up, he doesn't get a pass in my books.

"You always let bad things happen to the girls," Bastien spits at Stéphane. "It's your fault that Cole is so fucked in the head. Now you're going to let this douchebag talk shit to Caro?"

"Shut the fuck up!" I find myself shouting. "You close your goddamn mouth. Reid doesn't know."

I know Spencer doesn't know French, but he hears me say his last name and he looks at me.

"Your secrets aren't mine to keep," Bastien spits.

"No? But when you come stumbling to my apartment, drunk and bloody, I'm not supposed to tell anyone?"

Stéphane's eyes go wide. Bastien glares at me.

"You had no right-"

"Neither did you-"

"Both of you knock it off!" Stéphane's voice is shaking. "If you're going to act like children, I'll talk to you that way."

Bastien turns around, grabbing Stéphane by the collar and slamming him into the wall. I shriek. The door behind me is going to bust off its hinges, the way Caro is pounding on it. I know she can hear every fucking word. The condo was made for the previous tenants, and they've cursed me with bad luck and the ability to listen.

"Stop it!" I shout.

Stéphane shoves Bastien's chest. Bastien lets go for just a second. He turns and looks at Cletus. He steps closer, fist winding behind him. I break off the door to jump in the way. The door swings open and I'm just too slow. Bastien barrels toward Cletus. Spencer steps in the way and Bastien's fist swings, punching Spencer in the face.

Spencer hits the ground.

~~~~~

Well, how exciting. Any thoughts in particular, or predictions?