[color=lightgray][right][sub][b]Before Heartbreakers Collab: [i][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5366156]Once a Clover, Always a Clover[/url][/i] TIMESTAMP: Early Monday Morning FT.[/b] [color=E4DF9B]Antoine "Beau" Beauregard[/color] & [color=027c1b]Lydia Anderson[/color][/sub][/right] [center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220722/363b0118abb5d232dc9cfbaa75b720f3.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/6FNBzkH.png[/img] [b][color=#E4DF9B]_[/color][color=#E0DD99]_[/color][color=#DDDC97]_[/color][color=#DADA95]_[/color][color=#D6D993]_[/color][color=#D3D791]_[/color][color=#D0D68F]_[/color][color=#CCD48D]_[/color][color=#C9D38B]_[/color][color=#C6D18A]_[/color][color=#C2D088]_[/color][color=#BFCE86]_[/color][color=#BCCD84]_[/color][color=#B8CC82]_[/color][color=#B5CA80]_[/color][color=#B2C97E]_[/color][color=#AEC77C]_[/color][color=#ABC67B]_[/color][color=#A8C479]_[/color][color=#A4C377]_[/color][color=#A1C175]_[/color][color=#9EC073]_[/color][color=#9ABE71]_[/color][color=#97BD6F]_[/color][color=#94BC6D]_[/color][color=#90BA6B]_[/color][color=#8DB96A]_[/color][color=#8AB768]_[/color][color=#86B666]_[/color][color=#83B464]_[/color][color=#80B362]_[/color][color=#7CB160]_[/color][color=#79B05E]_[/color][color=#76AE5C]_[/color][color=#73AD5B]_[/color][color=#6FAC59]_[/color][color=#6CAA57]_[/color][color=#69A955]_[/color][color=#65A753]_[/color][color=#62A651]_[/color][color=#5FA44F]_[/color][color=#5BA34D]_[/color][color=#58A14B]_[/color][color=#55A04A]_[/color][color=#519E48]_[/color][color=#4E9D46]_[/color][color=#4B9C44]_[/color][color=#479A42]_[/color][color=#449940]_[/color][color=#41973E]_[/color][color=#3D963C]_[/color][color=#3A943B]_[/color][color=#379339]_[/color][color=#339137]_[/color][color=#309035]_[/color][color=#2D8E33]_[/color][color=#298D31]_[/color][color=#268C2F]_[/color][color=#238A2D]_[/color][color=#1F892B]_[/color][color=#1C872A]_[/color][color=#198628]_[/color][color=#158426]_[/color][color=#128324]_[/color][color=#0F8122]_[/color][color=#0B8020]_[/color][color=#087E1E]_[/color][color=#057D1C]_[/color][/b][/center] [indent][indent]The early morning rush had subsided and Rochambeau was now empty. Both Adam and Poppy were off for the day so Beau would be working solo. Not that the old dog minded it though, or usually meant he could catch up on his reading, enjoy copious amounts of the perfect blend of Java and think about all the old cases that he never solved or how much he missed his kids. Marcel and Genevieve were both grown now, living their lives, doing their thing and occasionally calling their father to check in. Marcel was in the Navy and spent all of his time away and even when he was home it wasn’t in Edenridge, it was New Orleans. There had always been some content in between father and son. They had a loving relationship but there was definitely a sword hanging over their heads, a sword named abandonment. Beau, before moving to Eden to teach, was of course a Homicide detective, which meant that he would spend most of his hours and days walking the violent streets of New Orleans, trying to solve cases and make the city a safer place. It also meant that he was never home and for someone like Beau and he would hate to admit it, more often than not the case always came first. And though they had talked about it since, it was definitely still a tender point between father and son. Genevieve was slightly younger than Marcel and in some ways she understood her fathers dedication to his craft a lot more. She adapted very quickly to seeing her father at breakfast and then getting two phone calls from him a day, nothing more and nothing less. Then there were those sweetest of occasions when he was home to tuck her in and read her a story. It was those stories that inspired her to pursue her career on Broadway, to sing those stories across the world and up to the heavens. Perhaps her father would finally hear her? Beau held no illusions about fatherhood and his role in his own kids' childhood. He was the driving force, the thing that shaped them into the people that they are today, their strengths, their faults, their successes and their failures. He never did enough or at least he felt like he didn’t. Perhaps that was the reason he did what he did for the kids of Edenridge? The little lost trio and their phantom fourth. He loved those kids so dearly, they reminded him of his own rough upbringing, of the hardships and the horror of the street. Antoine found solace in books much like Charlie Decker once did. It was a damn shame that the words in them couldn’t save that young boy like they saved him. An old vinyl record player sat on the bookshelf at Rochambeau, an anniversary gift from Colleen and something his customers seemed to enjoy quite a bit. Spinning on it at that moment was the [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wEBlaMOmKV4]velvet voice[/url] of one Sam Cooke, His good lady me favourite. Colleen was gone for the week, visiting Genevieve in New York, so Beau needed to be reminded of her every chance he got because goddamn he loved that woman and he missed her like crazy. Sitting in his chair by the register, glasses hanging down his nose as he read Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, he was alerted to the ringing sound of the bell that hung above the front door. Beau raised his head and smiled that big toothie smile he was famous for. [color=E4DF9B]“Mon petite, welcome!”[/color] Soldiers were not only those that got sent overseas to battle. Not only those men and women in uniform, preparing for war and earning titles and badges for their chivalry. Not only those in blue, at the homefront, risking their lives everyday in the streets. Some soldiers sat in offices, in classrooms, in hospitals…marching on, pursuing honourable pursuits that didn't require bloodshed but did require mental fortitude and incredible strength. Lydia Anderson wouldn’t consider herself a soldier but to all those cases, all those children that needed saving, they would consider her their hero. A soldier. Subconsciously, she placed her hand on her heart and greeted Beau with a nod. With a subtle smile, Lyds strolled to the counter and leaned on it. Interlocking her fingers, she met her gaze with the older man’s and asked, [color=027c1b]“Mornin’ Mr. Beau, how’s things for you this [i]fantastic[/i] Monday morning?”[/color] Her voice was pleasant, in a motherly way, but also very controlled in a serious manner. Harper always thought she had a stick up her ass but that’s just how she came across. No bullshit. Sharp and witty. Occasionally, the judgemental bitch. It was early here at Cafe Rochambeau. More often than not Lydia was one of Beau’s first customers. At this point of the day, she had already visited her dad, Nay, and her baby sis, Lolly. Routinely, she would bring her family’s mail and newspaper inside. She would tell Nay good things, only good things that had been happening in Edenridge (even if it was pulling out of thin air). She made sure her father didn’t oversleep since he was the only veterinarian in town (high demand) and for some reason that old man could sleep through anything. Luke Anderson had to support his mentally crippled family somehow. She’d visit Lolly, give her something she requested, usually comics — today’s delivery was the new Langley, the first volume of Dread — and tell her she loved her. Before she left the house, she overlooked her family’s accounts to make sure they hadn’t, especially her mother, spent above their means. Then and only then she would leave and go to the Cafe before work. Everyday she did this. Although today was a special kind of day. A little outside her usual routine. She had adjusted her schedule where she only had two appointments. One at 8:30 AM and one at 10 AM. She scheduled a vacation day for tomorrow, something she rarely does since work was the one thing that kept her afloat. She did all this so she could be with the people she loved. The ones that made her taxing job possible because without them, she would be haunted by all the ghosts of her past and her fear of failure during her present. Screw her future. That was a wish that would never happen for her. Lydia gave up on the family dream years ago because she didn’t think she’d be a good mother. It was one thing being a child’s psychologist, it was another thing giving birth to a little you, hoping they don’t grow up to be some piece of shit or have irreparable damage because of you. She never did tell Bobby about her abortion but if he knew, he wouldn’t have served and she couldn’t let him do that. Lately, Lydia has been so busy. She couldn’t be there as much as she’d prefer for her best friends, the Heartbreakers. Right now, the one that was drowning the most was Cat. Every year one of them found themselves barely hanging on. This year, it was Cat. The last time she and Cat caught up was two weeks ago, right after the doctor shared the awful news that Silvia wouldn’t live past a month. Yesterday, late at night, Nina came to visit her (she lived at Milligan Apartments in Eastbrook). They talked for hours, the focus was Nina’s growing worry about her sister’s mental health. With the divorce, the family drama, being a business owner, and Silvia’s condition, Cat was barely keeping it together, drinking more and more as the days went on. Nina was crying, ‘Help me’ and so Lydia rallied up the girls — Brooke, Harper, and Vanessa — to remind Cat that she was loved and that she was not alone. Later on today they would meet at Palermo to surprise Cat. It’s been almost two years since they were all together like that. She needed to be a better friend. [color=027c1b]“Oh, and the usual please,”[/color] Lydia added, looking up at the wise old man that was a pillar to the Edenridge community. Beau began making up Lydia’s usual. She was always a favourite student of his. A bright smile and an extremely clever mind. She was part of a group that called themselves Heartbreakers. The year Antoine Beauregard moved to Edenridge was the year that the heartbreakers were in their senior semesters. They all had a different light in them, a different aura. They were able to relay themselves through different mediums and vocations. Lydia was always the most cerebral of the quintet. She read a room and a person so easily. It wasn’t a surprise to Beau that she ended up a psychologist. He was more than happy to write her a letter of recommendation to both college and when she began working at Shannon Ramsey’s office. [color=E4DF9B]“Busy morning rush, as always. You’re late!”[/color] Being in his current line of work, Beau had come to know the comings and going’s of a lot of Edenridge’s townsfolk. Every morning, he would wake up at 5am and then leave shortly thereafter to get the shop set up. He would see the likes of Mei and Jill, drunk as all hell, stumbling home. Xavier Booker, returning from a night on the corner. Sylvester James, worn out, tired from carrying the world on his shoulders on his way home. Beau saw everything. Lydia herself had a routine that she followed and today she had stepped outside that line. [color=E4DF9B]“How are things, petite fleur?”[/color] [color=027c1b]“Oh you know,”[/color] Once she pulled her double espresso’s plate close, Lydia grabbed her small cup and brought it to her lips, [color=027c1b]“Just compartmentalizing all the grief my kids go through.”[/color] She took a ginger sip before placing it down, [color=027c1b]“Huh, so you noticed?”[/color] She raised an eyebrow at the mention of her being late. Beau had a phenomenal memory but truth be told she didn’t think he would remember the exact time she showed up everyday. Lydia preferred to live a life unnoticed. It was her way of avoiding drama and unnecessary headaches. [color=E4DF9B]“I see everything, Miss Anderson,”[/color] Beau, for the briefest of moments, slipped into his old teacher mode. Having so many former students as customers was always jarring because when he gazed upon their grown up faces, they were still the fourteen to eighteen year olds that he taught English literature to. [color=E4DF9B]“Is there anything I can help with? I’ve been around the block a few times.”[/color] A statement here which was true. Beau had seen a lot in his years walking God’s green. He had seen brother kill brother. He had found father raping daughter. He had watched kids kill kids. He had seen it all. Depending on the day, Antoine would often be poisoned by a memory he would soon rather forget. He could see the world through their eyes. He could feel it as they succumbed to malady or misfortune. Recently, Beau found himself reliving two days in his head. December 4th 2016 and August 29th 2019. The day Allison Davies died and the day Charlie Decker opened fire. He learned about the party on Carlisle but by the time he got there, it was already over. He wondered what could’ve been had he made it to the party sooner. Could Allison have survived? On the day of the school shooting, Beau followed every instinct he had. He used his cop brain to avoid casualties but he still felt guilty. Guilty that he couldn’t prevent Roddy Callahan running back into the school. Guilty that he couldn’t stop Charlie. Guilty that he couldn’t stop Poppy James and Natalia Belmonte from watching the poor boy get shot. [color=027c1b]“In terms of my work? Nah, I’m good. That’s what cult films are for. To get my mind off of work,”[/color] She took a deeper sip of her coffee, before sighing, [color=027c1b]“But Cat, I don’t know. I’m worried about her.”[/color] Lydia sighed to herself, placing her cup down and grabbing her banana nut muffin. Picking at it, she looked at the muffin and explained, [color=027c1b]“We all drink from time to time. I fancy good ass whiskey. But she’s getting worse. I don’t really know what to do about that,”[/color] Lydia glanced up at her old teacher and frowned, [color=027c1b]“She’s losing faith in herself as a mother, as a daughter, as a sister, and as a lover. The reason why today’s a bit different is because I’ve been doing last minute things with my girls. We’re going to surprise Cat. Show her she’s not alone. It just hurts to watch her drown and not be able to do anything about it, but I guess I’m not unfamiliar with this feeling.”[/color] She wasn’t and she never would be. There were too many things in life that people had little control over. Lydia knew that all too well. She couldn’t bring her mom back and ask her to not respond to that domestic call. She couldn’t calm Bobby down when he was going through his post traumatic stress from the war. She couldn’t convince Nay to give life another chance and walk beyond the white picket fence. She couldn’t convince Lolly to reconnect with her friends. It was daunting really. How little control she had. The lack of control was becoming more and more inevitable each and every day. [color=027c1b]“I hate this feeling.” [/color] [color=E4DF9B]“Herodotus said, Of all men’s miseries, the bitterest is this; to know so much and have control over nothing,”[/color] Beau took a sip from his own coffee before continuing. [color=E4DF9B]“I have known y’all for fifteen years. I’ve watched you grow, change, become who you were meant to become. In that little group of yours, Caterina has always been the heart, the spark that pumped the blood into your veins. If she’s struggling, you cannot control that. Nobody can. The best you can do is be there for her, as you always have been. Caterina has to do the rest.”[/color] As he had said she was a grown woman now, with her own life, her own thoughts and her own feelings. He didn’t know how much help he could be to Lydia, Cat, anyone really. In a world such as this one now, what good could an old teacher do? Antoine grabbed himself a biscotti from the counter jar and broke himself a piece off. He loved these. Colleen made them fresh every morning, except for this last batch since she was off galavanting. Still absolutely amazing though. [color=E4DF9B]“It’s been a while since I last saw you in here with anyone. You’re eating enough? I know you have a lot of responsibility so make sure you’re making time for you, fleur intelligente.”[/color] With a knowing smile, Beau took another sip from his drink. [color=E4DF9B]“How is Bobby Batters?”[/color] Chewing a piece of her muffin, Lydia shrugged, realising she hadn’t caught up with Robert in a couple weeks now. Work didn’t really stop for her and Shannon Ramsey. [color=027c1b]“I imagine as good as he’ll ever be. I mean he has his security business and I imagine that keeps his mind off of things, like my job does for me.”[/color] In a fog of thought, Lydia held her cup and absentmindedly rubbed her left thumb against it. That went on for a second or two, before she glanced up at Beau and pondered, [color=027c1b]“It’s better off this way.”[/color] Holding back the sadness, covering it up with a straight face, void of emotion, Lydia took a gulp of her coffee, a way to acknowledge how things turned out for her and Bobby. Their relationship was complicated. The love was still there but she knew, and he knew, they wouldn’t do right by each other. Neither her, or him, wanted to hurt the other because of their damage. That was the right thing to do. The smart thing to do. It didn’t change that it was fucking sad. [color=027c1b]“He’s happy, I’m sure,”[/color] She firmly stated, speaking his happiness into existence, convincing herself that he didn’t need her. Not like she needed him. Love, marriage, and family, they weren’t important to her. She was content in her apartment alone. For Christ’s sake, she couldn’t even get a pet out of fear she’d accidentally kill it. The only time she’s home is at night. Usually, all she wanted to do at night was tune out the silence with a show, as she ate cereal, drank whiskey, and relaxed. It wasn’t that she couldn’t take care of a pet either. She just had to check on her family throughout the day because of their mental health issues. No dog, cat, bird, mouse, or whatever deserved that absence. She already had to deal with her father not being mentally there for her, she didn’t need an animal to go through that same trauma. Love, marriage, and family… they weren’t meant for women like her. [color=E4DF9B]“Honey, Bobby Osso has never been happy a day in his life. Happiest he ever was was when you were with him. Same as you were happiest with him.”[/color] Beau had taught five different Osso children during his tenure at Eden. Most recently it was Ricky, when as a favour he substituted for a sick teacher at the new high school. He taught that delinquent Oz, the intriguing Sienna, clever Clari and then there was Robert, the oldest of the Osso kids. Unquiet rage. Beau had seen it in a handful of people in his life. An anger, like a fever, that just swelled up with every passing moment like an infection, bubbling under the skin until it exploded in an glorious eruption. Bobby Osso had that rage. When he knew him as a boy, Bobby didn’t talk much. He had a knack for talking with his eyes. When he did talk, he was polite, well spoken but he carried a great deal of authority in his voice even back then. Yet when Bobby lost his temper, it was downright despicable. He had never seen him lay his hands on a woman or a child and he didn’t think he would. Bobby was angry but he wasn’t evil. Not like another former student whom Beau believed housed the same rage. A student known to most as the Devil. Robert Osso always seemed happiest, with a subtle barely noticeable smile on his face in the presence of Lydia Anderson. She was his temperance. Sadly, the war beckoned Bobby to it and their love was separated and up until this point had yet to come together. [color=E4DF9B]“I’m not here to interfere in your life, I’m always just here to listen and advise you. Well, I’m here to pour you coffee but I digress.”[/color] After finishing her expresso, Lydia made a dent in her muffin as she quietly listened to Beau. She didn’t want to admit it but her former teacher was right. She couldn’t speak for Bobby but she could certainly speak for herself. When they were together before life took them on their separate journeys, she was happy. God, she was so happy. Everything made sense when he was around. From her mom’s death to her childhood best friend’s death, those were all things he helped her process and she never felt alone. He was her constant. The one thing that always found his way back to her and showed her she didn’t have to struggle alone. She would never be alone. All she had to do was ask. That’s beside the point and a thing of the past. She doubted he’d want to try again. Even if he did, she didn’t know if she’d say yes. Lydia didn’t have the strength to let him go a second time. Not like she did after graduation. At the time, it was the right thing to do. They were young and had their whole lives ahead of them. If he told her he still loved her… what would she even say? Nibbling her muffin, she pushed the negativity out of her head and complemented with absolute certainty, [color=027c1b]“You do more than pour coffee for us sad people, Beau.”[/color] Her eyes were sharp and her voice was truthful. [color=027c1b]“Moments like these mean so much. The calm of the cafe, Sam Cooke’s smooth voice in the background, and… your warmth. We come here because we want to. Not because this is the only place in Eden to get good coffee.”[/color] Beau was a pillar in the community. There were many lives he impacted. There were many kids that he loved that loved him. There were many lessons he taught that so many people grabbed and made their own. [color=027c1b]“You did that. You got us to love you. But [i]I digress[/i],”[/color] She finished her muffin and cleaned her hands with her napkin, [color=027c1b]“I’m just a customer.”[/color] Beau reached out with his large hand and placed it on top of Lydia’s [color=E4DF9B]“Thank you for the kind words and thank you for reaching out to those that truly need it. Not many people could do what you do.”[/color] The work that Lydia and Shannon did for the people of the community that truly needed it was nothing short of astounding and Antoine respected both women with absolute certainty. [color=E4DF9B]“Like the man himself said, Change Gonna Come mon petite. The dark times won’t last but good people like you do.”[/color] As the cafe bell rang to signify another customer, the former literature teacher took a step back and offered the Anderson girl a big hearty smile. With his thick Louisiana drawl he spoke [color=E4DF9B]“Give your sister my love won’t you?”[/color] [color=027c1b]“You know I will.”[/color] [/indent][/indent][/color]