Chapter Text
TEN YEARS LATER
It was a cool, fresh day in the countryside, sunlight slipping over newly green trees and a cloudless blue sky stretching up behind them. The grass was dewy and wet, loose strands of grass sticking to his boots and damp creeping up his trouser leg. Ben didn't mind that. The air was sweet and fresh, a pleasant change from the dust and smog of the city. He took a deep breath in through his nose and turned around in a slow circle to take in the view, reveling in the smell of moss and grass and dew. To one side, small figures on horseback circled around a sandy paddock, the teacher in the center issuing commands in a warbling, wavering voice and in the distance the clang of the farrier's hammer echoed out from behind the barn.
“Daddy,” a small voice chirped into his ear.
“Yes, darling,” he said, turning to look into big brown eyes. Miri batted her lashes at him and he smiled.
“When can I ride Vesna?” she asked, wide eyes imploring.
“When you're bigger, darling,” Ben told her, adjusting his arm around her.
“I could ride Snezhinka,” she suggested as they approached the fence. Ben turned to see the old girl pad towards them, snorting and flicking her ears in pleasure at their arrival.
“Snezhinka's too old for riding now, my angel,” Ben explained. Miri chewed her thumb.
“I'm only small,” she argued. “She wouldn't mind me.” It was a conversation they had had before, and he was sure that they would have again.
“Let's have those apples now,” he prodded gently, trying to change the subject. He pulled her around his chest and tucked her back against him, her little feet resting on the fence. “You take them, I'll hold you,” he suggested, tugging the small paper bag from her hand and shaking it open.
“Phazi says Snezhinka is your special girl,” Miri said, holding her palm out flat as Ben dropped some apple on top.
“She is,” he agreed, watching on as sweet, old Snezhinka's lips hoovered up the apple slices from Miri's small hand. Ben smiled.
“I thought I was your special girl?” Miri chirped, a hint of desperation in her tone. Ben chuckled.
“Of course you are, my precious light,” he assured her, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Phazi says she was your little boy's,” Miri added idly. Ben reached up and stroked his hand over the top of her head.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Your brother.”
“So I have two brothers,” she commented and Ben did not disagree. “Daddy, are you cross with Marek?” she asked, dipping her hand back into the bag as Snezhinka snuffled at her sleeve. Ben took a breath and let it out slowly.
“Not exactly,” he told her after a moment.
“Phazi says that's why he wasn't allowed to come riding,” she said. Ben watched as Snezhinka gently plucked more apples from her little hand.
“Your mother and I felt he needed to reflect on his behavior, that's all.”
“What's reflect?” she queried. Ben smiled.
“Think about, look back on,” he replied.
“Oh. Because he got in trouble at school,” she supplied and Ben hummed in assent.
“Little boys need to learn they can't go around solving everything with their fists,” he informed her in a patriarchal tone, although it was Rey's voice he heard in his head. Miri nodded and scratched Snezhinka's nose.
“Phazi says he only did it because Paul at school pulled her hair,” she informed him sagely. Ben sighed.
“That's what your brother said,” he replied with a hint of exasperation in his tone. Miri was quiet for a minute, the only sound the distant clip clop of hooves and Snezhinka's contented crunching.
“Daddy, what's a lovechild?” she asked, her tone all innocence and light. Ben's eyes went wide.
“Where did you hear that word?” he demanded, peering down his nose at her face.
“Phazi said it,” she informed him. Ben reached forward and patted Snezhinka's cheek, letting out a huff of breath and shaking his head.
“Come on,” he told Miri, hoisting her up and tucking her into his side once more. “I want to have a word with your sister.”
“Madame Dupree!” Miri squealed when they arrived back at the store. Ben set her down and watched as she went running up the steps into the waiting arms of a smiling matriarch loitering just inside the door.
“Miri, my precious,” Madame Dupree greeted, opening her arms and scooping her up. Behind him, the car door slammed and Phasima flounced across the pavement, walking past the glass store front with her head held high and her expression so haughty she looked to Ben in that moment the spitting image of her mother. When did she get so grown up? Ben huffed. Let her sulk, he groused, watching through the broad glass windows as she disappeared amid the mannequins and silk. “Are you in trouble?” Madame Dupree queried with a smirk as he entered.
“Aren't I always?” Ben supplied. Madame Dupree smiled. “Where's Rey?” he asked. She adjusted Miri's leg around her hip and gestured to the stairs with her chin.
“In the studio, with the models,” she supplied and Ben nodded.
“Oh yes, final fitting,” he recalled.
“Oh, monsieur, before I forget,” Madame Dupree uttered through Miri's hair, shifting the little girl at her waist and crossing to the cashier's desk. “A letter for you.”
“Thank you,” Ben said, accepting it from her and casting his eye across the other Phasima's familiar curling script.
He left Miri prattling at Madame Dupree. Rey was always saying it was good for Miri's French and Madame Dupree didn't seem to mind that much. He climbed the stairs, clutching the banister and groaning. Oh his knees. When did he become so old? He felt old.
He approached the end of the corridor, the sounds of female voices bubbling through the open door. He stepped through into a world of feathers and femininity, a flock of women clucking around like hens pinning bits of ribbon and fur onto each other. There wasn't so much lace as in his youth, those wide brim hats replaced now with floppy bucket things. Cloche, or something, Phazi had told him as though he were the stupidest man ever to live. She loitered in the corner now, pouting at him as a statuesque Borzoi pranced through the assembled bodies and greeted him with a wag of its great, hairy curtain tail.
“Hello my boy,” Ben said, petting the dog's long thin head.
“Boris,” Phazi called and the dog abandoned him to trot straight back into her arms. Phazi pouted and buried her face into his neck.
“Have you done something?” Rey said, appearing at his side. Ben let out a relieved sigh and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Innocent of all charges,” he said, leaning down to give her a kiss. Rey hummed and smiled, brushing her hands down his chest and tugging at the lapels of his jacket. “No Marek?” he asked, glancing around.
“Marek took him,” Rey said, stepping out of his embrace and pulling a pin out of her skirt.
“Marek and Marek,” Ben mused. “That is a double act Paris is not ready for.” Rey smiled and flicked at a button on his chest. Ben followed behind her as they weaved their way between the women, observing as she deftly threaded the needle and picked up a turquoise button from a table.
“He doesn't want to be here with all this,” she said with a vague wave of her hand. Ben cast his eye around the room at the flurry of activity, the room buzzing with pretty young women in various states of undress. Give it a year or two, he mused with a smirk.
“You want me to help ferry you all over to the exhibition center?” he asked, leaning against the wall in an attempt to be unobtrusive. Rey hummed, her eyes fixed on the button as she sewed it onto a coat.
“Monsieur,” the model chirped sweetly, batting her lashes at him. She was certainly a lovely girl, blue eyes and blonde curls like big Phas.
“Mamselle,” Ben purred in reply, enjoying the slight dart of Rey's eye toward him. Oh how he loved that she still knew how to be jealous. For a moment he didn't feel so old any more and let his gaze rove over the tuck of her waist to the peachy round curve of her ass. How he still loved that ass. He flexed his fingers and grinned.
“Did Sandrine give you your letter?” she asked in the same haughty tone as her daughter. Across the room, his little Phas was now tucked into a small couch in the corner with one of Rey's staff, the pair of them cooing and running a hairbrush over Boris who sat between them with his usual vapid expression on his dopey Borzoi face.
“Oh yes,” Ben said, digging into his pocket and pulling it out. “It's from Phas.”
“And how is she?” Rey asked absently. Ben opened the letter and began to read.
“Hmmm, she's well,” he informed her as his eyes trailed down the looping lines of Cyrillic text. A smile spread across his face. “She says she's buying land in California.”
“Oh?” Rey chirped, glancing at him for a moment. Ben read to her from the letter:
“I am putting up the money but Estelle's brother Guy will run the estate. They are from Beaujolais so it seems to me a not unwise decision, since my knowledge of wine extends only to the drinking of it. If present absurdities persist, I am certain we shall all be beset by a sudden, devout piety which ought mitigate matters. The wine itself will be red, which should please your Rey. Assure her that I plan to approach this endeavor in the spirit of social agrarian principles, by which of course I mean, to sit around the estate drinking all day, but I shall do so in denim and wellingtons.” Ben snorted.
“I suppose she thinks she's funny,” Rey complained. Ben's smile grew.
“She is funny,” he countered, tucking the letter away. Rey didn't reply but he was certain he saw her lips twitch in a repressed smile. He stood up and leaned a little closer. “Miri was asking me for a pony again,” he said as Rey straightened up. She let out a little sigh.
“Could you turn around for me, Odile darling,” she said sweetly, clasping the model by the shoulders. “And what did you say to that?” Rey probed, running her hands up the back of Odile's coat and tugging at the collar.
“I didn't say anything,” he supplied, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.
“We can't afford to keep another horse,” Rey informed him. “And now with Marek taking lessons as well.”
“A gentleman should know how to ride,” Ben reminded her.
“So you always say,” she replied. She set her needle down and squeezed Odile's shoulders again. “I think you're all done,” she told her, leaning close to Odile's ear. Odile squeaked in pleasure and tottered forward on her high heels to look at herself in the great mirror that lined the other wall.
“You know, I was talking to Ivan Lyapunov,” Ben said, following Rey out of the room to the office across the hall.
“Oh yes,” Rey said, only half listening as she leant forward to dig around in the desk drawer.
“You remember him? His wife is always at Larue's when we go. The one who dotes on Phazi,” Ben continued. Everybody doted on Phazi, including her father, which was why, he supposed, she was growing up to be such a princess.
“Oh I can’t find a pen. Do you have a pen?” Rey asked.
“Yes,” he replied, digging into his inside pocket. “Here you are.”
“Thank you,” she chirped, turning back to the desk.
“Well anyway, he told me he's been driving a cab,” Ben stated, observing the quirk of her brow as she glanced up at him. “I remember going hunting at their estate in Lesnoe,” he added wistfully. Rey didn't reply, just gave him a sympathetic look. “Anyway, he says he's making good money.”
“I'm not sure we're at that point yet, Ben,” she said sedately. Ben shrugged one shoulder.
“Well why not?” he queried softly. “Between school and riding and ballet, I'm basically just a chauffeur now anyway.” Rey smiled and stroked his arm. “And then maybe Miri can have her pony.” Rey screwed the cap back on the pen and handed it to him.
“I'm not sure right now is a good time for a pony,” she told him, squeezing his bicep as she turned to face him.
“Oh,” Ben mused, staring at her lips and letting his hands slide around her waist. Rey took a deep breath and held it for a minute, peering up at him and letting her nose brush his. “Oh,” Ben added a moment later as a light went on in his head. “Darling,” he breathed, wrapping her in an embrace and pulling her close. Rey tilted her head back and let him give her a slow, gentle kiss. “How long?” he asked, leaning his forehead against hers. Rey fiddled with a button on his chest.
“Maybe three months,” she said quietly. “I didn't want to worry you.” Ben gulped.
“Darling you should have told me,” he uttered in an apologetic tone. “I … I wouldn't have been so insistent,” he added, nudging her cheek with his nose.
“I like when you're insistent,” Rey assured him, wrapping her arms around his neck and reaching up on tiptoes for another kiss. Ben hummed and swayed her in his arms, letting her tongue slip between his lips. He liked that she liked he was insistent, though it was in the end their insistence on liking each other so often that got them into this in the first place.
“Is it a bit soon?” he asked a moment later, his tone more serious. Rey let out a thoughtful breath.
“I don't know,” she replied. Ben gulped and stroked his knuckles down her cheek.
“I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you,” he murmured, looking her in the eye. “My darling.” Rey leaned into his touch and smiled softly.
“The doctor said I'm fine,” she whispered. “He says that it's not uncommon, that even healthy women have miscarriages.” Ben scowled and took a thoughtful breath.
“I should have been more careful,” he uttered solemnly. Rey's brow quirked.
“We have this conversation every time,” she reminded him. “Darling, really, it's fine. Aren't you happy?”
“Oh of course I'm happy, darling, my darling.” He kissed her again then, wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
“Maybe it will be another boy this time?” Rey added, giving him a wry smile. Ben smiled back.
“Good, I need another player on the team,” he quipped. Rey's smile grew.
“You've got Marek. And now Boris,” she reminded him. Ben chuckled.
“Boris doesn't have a brain. In fact he is minus a brain, so he actually counts as negative against us,” Ben groused playfully. Rey grinned, a broad toothy grin that always made him go sappy and stupid. He beamed at her. “We'll need another bedroom, you know. And another pony,” he added with a grin. Rey chuckled and raised her finger to prod the tip of his nose.
“Maybe you ought to drive that taxi after all,” she said cheekily. “Voiture Veniamin,” she suggested. “Knyaz Cars.”
“Who thinks she's funny now,” he complained, scooping her up into his arms as she giggled. Maybe it was funny, and maybe it wasn't, but it didn't really matter. He looked into her smiling eyes and laughed.
🪆❤️🪆❤️🪆THE END 🪆❤️🪆❤️🪆