Tu Es Ma Lumière

139 - Adoption *Modern*

"Hey," he says, plopping down next to his wife. Mary looks up from her sketchpad, observing her husband. His dress is unusual and infrequent, he wore no expensive dark suits. As the heir of his families' business dynasty, Francis was hardly ever not dolled up to the nines with his ridiculously expensive shoes, suits and watches. Seeing him casual, in jeans and a navy sweatshirt suited him and was completley not him at the same time. He pushed his hair from his face, almost nervous. Mary cocked her head to the side, pushing her glasses up her nose and pulling her sketchpad away. She could come back to it later.

"Hey." her voice is soft, as is her hand as he holds it in his own. She blinks owlishly, childishly at him, curious to what he wanted to say. He was nervous, she realises, taking in the wideness of his blue eyes, the hush of his breath. He can't stop fidgeting, either, squirming on the grandeur black settee they were both placed upon. His knee and foot jumps up and down rapidly, and his throat constricts with a thick swallow. Mary cocks her head more to the side, feeling the coldness of her diamond earrings. "What is it?" she asks.

"I need you to sign this." he says, pulling out a large wad of paper from out of thin air. She cocks her head again, furrowing her eyebrows. But, she takes the paper anyway. It's held together by a brown envelope. As she removes it, the black ink screams out at her. She inhales sharply, looking over the words again and again and again, as if the amount of times she looked at it would change what it said. How it was said. This couldn't be, could it? What could this mean?

Petition for Legal Adoption.

"Francis." Mary whispers, looking over the papers again. The ravenette looks over at her husband again. Saw his hope, his expectancy, his desire and his nerves. "I-I don't understand." she says, her voice quiet.

"I-I know things're unconventional-" he says. "but I think it's the best thing for all of us." he says.

"What? I don't-"

"Mary." he says. Now, his voice is serious. "I want you to adopt Jean-Philippe." he says. She inhales sharply. "I know we've only been together for two years, but think about it. You came into my son's life when he was a baby. Lola-Lola'd already signed away her rights when he was born, so it was just him and I here. But then you came and made me better, less cold and less stern. And you know full well how much Jean loves you, he even calls you mama, for crying out loud." he says. "You're the only mom he's ever known. Yes, Lola's in his life, but he doesn't know that he grew inside her, he knows no other as his mother, bar you. And we're married now, you've lived with us for a year and a half. You've taken care of him for half his life. Would it really be so bad to make it official?" he asks.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing, my love. But I'm shocked. Why? Why now?" Mary asks her husband, nervously twiddling his ring. He takes in a breath.

"Mary, we met as five year olds. We spent a decade together in France before your father died and you had to leave and go back to Scotland. And then what happened with Lola and I happened. It was one night, a mistake, I barely even liked her, I didn't love her in the way I never stopped loving you. She had made it clear that she didn't want the child when she told me. But we're Catholic, we couldn't abort it. So, she signed her rights away when he was born that April. He's aunt Lola to her. But when you came back into my life, he latched onto you as his mother. And you are, more than she ever will be. I know that being a parent has nothing to do with biology, it's to do with the actual parenting. Bedtime stories at night, getting him up and washed and dressed in the morning. Holding his hand on the street and cutting his food up into the shapes of dinosaurs and cars. You do all of those things and more. You're his mum. Why can't we make it official?"

"I-I-"

"I remember thinking, after Bash and Kenna got into their car wreck last summer, what would have happened if that had been you and me, not them? If something happened to me, where would he go? Who would he go to? Would you still see him, would he still be around you? I know it would break his little heart to be away from you. And I'm not planning on going anywhere, not for a long time, but we've gotta think about things like this, Mary." he says, holding her hand tighter. "I talked to Lola about it."

"You what?!"

"She agrees with me. She wants you to adopt him, raise him as your own. Mother and father agree, too. They know it's the best thing for all of us. And Jean would be delighted to have you -legally- as his mum." Mary glances at the paper again. "They had the family lawyers draw up the papers. Everything's sorted out. All you have to do is sign them, Mary."

"Francis, I-" she was speechless.

"Come on. You agreed to have him when you married me. He even said that he was part of the deal, too. If you married me, you'd have to marry him, too." they shared a small smile. "There'll be no court or legal stuff to go through, I know how much anxiety things like that give you. All you have to do is sign them and Richard Delacroix will do the rest." he pauses. "What do you say? Will you have him?"

"Of course, of course." she smiles. "I'll adopt him, Francis." she says. Francis beams at her, that smile that never failed to make her heart stutter. He kissed her deeply, pushing a pen into her right hand. "Where do I sign?"