Now and Forever Chapter 3 Family Gathering

                                                                            💞Chapter 3💞

            Family Gathering

As a rule,  Poirot's supervisor wasn't known to schedule him for weekends. In light of recent events, however, and his insistence on 'stirring up the pot' as it was banded about the precinct ;  he was certain retribution was forthcoming.
Between the silent prayers and week long rosary recitals; a mystery per evening,  somehow the dreaded phone call never came, and the weekend was his, complete with that blessed Sunday.
Meeting Virginie and  her aunt at the front door of the church,  he allowed Virginie to lead the way in as he let Madame Deroulard take his arm and escort her into the church.  Both women were dressed in their Sunday best, up to the hats.  Virginie's chapeau reminded Hercule of the hat she wore when they first met, except for the color, which was more of an eggshell white today; matching her dress.
"Monsieur Poirot, do I have to sit between you two or can I trust you to behave?"  the old woman's tone was somewhat humorous but Poirot got the message.
"Madame, you can trust me to be respectful in the house of God",  he smiled; patting the hand that held his arm in reassurance.
"I will hold you to that promise, young man", the matriarch maintained her  no-nonsense tone but the slightest smile on her lips as they stopped where Virginie stopped; allowing the elder of their group to slip into the fourth row pew first, followed by Virginie and Hercule.
"Does Hilde not attend?" Poirot whispered.
"She goes to Mass on Saturday afternoons, after lunch.  We don't do a lot for dinners on Saturdays, unless we have company so she prefers Saturday afternoon Mass. Besides, she has a special treat planned for dessert."
Poirot shook his head in mock grief. "La temptation!  And now, I will not be able to concentrate..."
Their whispered tete 'a tete was interrupted by Madame Deroulard's shaking of the head and placing her right index finger to her lips.  This kept her niece and their guest from anymore whispered conversation.
For the rest of the service,  Virginie and Hercule managed to maintain an air of solemn dignity, and for a few minutes after. Especially when the priest cornered the officer and asked why he was not at his post.  Poirot, to Virginie's joy,  declared,  "Mon Pere, there are some things which take the first priority, even over the duty to ones community.  If I get the call of great urgency, I shall respond. Until then,  my God  and  my friends; they deserve my time also."
The priest nodded. "Well said. And I hope to see the two of you in future to discuss ...plans".
There was no hiding the padre's inference, but Madame Deroulard answered, most respectfully, yet pointedly,  "Too many people, good Father,  rush into marriage like it's the latest ride at an amusement carnival.  The choice, should my niece and Mr. Poirot decide to take that path, must be theirs, but it must also be carefully considered. Am I not correct in this view?  'Act in HASTE, repent at Leisure' ".
No more was said on the subject,  but the smiles on the faces of the two 'kids'  suggested that the idea had occurred to them.
Lunch was more like dinner,  with the dinner table in full company mode,  complete with Vegetable soup as an appetizer, which Poirot ladled, from a terrine ,  into Virginie's bowl after he helped with Madame Deroulard's soup.  Virginie, in turn,  ladled Poirot's soup.
"You enjoy something of a reputation already,  Monsieur Poirot",   the household matriarch sipped her water after a few spoonfuls of vegetable-rich soup.
Dabbing his moustache with the linen napkin, Hercule Poirot answered, "I have been attending  this church for a few years. Sadly, I have not always been able to come to church, if job responsibilities, they have to be fulfilled.   I suppose word,  it just gets round",  he replied.
"You will do well, young man. Just remember where your  talents for deduction come from".
Dinner;  roast beef, with tiny potatoes,  and Yorkshire pudding was enjoyed over casual conversation, including Poirot's secret fear of singing. "I love to sing to my Savior. I just do not do it well".
"That's good", Virginie replied with a smile. "Everyone needs to have one thing they don't do well. Madame can knit better with dimmed vision than I can with 20/20 eyesight".
Over dessert;  chocolate fudge cake served with coffee,  Poirot posed the offer.  "Since Hilde, she  has done so much work to make this lovely meal, and this delicious cake, would she have any objection to Virginie and myself doing the dishes?"
The women's hums carried uncertainty.
"We can ask,"  Virginie suggested. "Whether she'll say 'Yes'  or chase me out with the business end of her broom is another story."
"I shall save you the trouble, then."  Poirot whispered when the door to the kitchen opened and Hilde appeared and asked if anyone wanted anymore dessert or coffee.  To a person, everyone was happy and thanked her for the most delicious lunch.
"As a show of gratitude for the most excellent meal,"  Poirot spoke up, "Virginie would like to assist in the cleaning up of the kitchen so that you may enjoy your meal and a second slice of le gateau du chocolat parfait!"
"You are quite welcome, Monsieur.  I'm so glad you enjoyed it.  As to the offer of help, I accept. I usually have help with Sunday dinner but the girl has the flu, or ...some such thing.  I'll leave that explanation to God and her pocket book.  In any case,  more the merrier."
And so it was.  All the better when Hilde decided that she would 'inspect'  the work after it was done, and enjoy a few hands of Twenty-One with Madame Deroulard before the 'kids'  were finished cleaning.
Returning to the kitchen, little over half an hour later, on Madame's insistence,  Hilde met Virginie, who was  en route to fetch her.
"Your kitchen staff await approval."  Virginie swept a hand towards the open kitchen door.
Virginie then followed Hilde  back to the kitchen,  where she found the guest depositing the last of the dustpan's contents into the trash container , that was on the other side of a narrow door,  before he replaced the broom and dustpan to its little closet, at the end of the cabinet of drawers and cupboards.
"The kitchen;  it meets with your approval?" Poirot asked.
The middle aged kitchen supervisor declared, "If you weren't so good at your current job, Monsieur, I'd hire you here in a minute.  YES, kids, this kitchen most definitely passes inspection.  Thank you so much for your he.."  Hilde stopped short, upon seeing a bandaide on Virginie's finger.  "Oh! Mademoiselle!  How did you come to cut your finger?"
Virginie looked at her 'medicated' finger and shrugged.  "It's nothing to worry about, Hilde. Honest.  Hercule wanted to be safe, though, so he applied the bandaide. I'll be fine.  It didn't even bleed. I thought I nicked it while I was washing but I could hardly tell, upon looking."
"Are you sure?"
"Hilde! How many times have you nicked and singed yourself over the years?  If you were to cart yourself off for medical treatment for every scratch, you said, yourself;  you would be in hospital waiting rooms or doctor's offices more often than you were here.  I promise, this bandaide will be off by this time tomorrow. Or an hour from now".

~~~~~
Virginie was in her bedroom, dressed for bed and brushing her freshly washed hair when the customary knock sounded.
    "Come in, Auntie."
Like her niece, Madame had her bath, with the help of Hilde, and was in her bed clothes, with her hair down and in a braid.  Her dressing gown was a robe of many colors.
Not even asking permission, the old woman sat herself on Virginie's bed. "I've had a rather odd request of your police officer.  He would like to visit me at lunch time tomorrow, if he is able to get away from the precinct or station.  Can I guess what this is about or are you going to tell me?"
Virginie stopped brushing her hair and admitted that she wasn't sure. A fib of sorts.
"My dear,"  the old woman said with a sigh of frustration at being lied to.   "You should know better, by now, than to think you can get anything passed me.  My eyes may not be the sharpest anymore, but my hearing is still keen. And I hear,  Virginie, what you AREN'T saying".
Virginie set her brush down on her dressing table  and turned, in her chair, to face her aunt.  "If you were thirty years younger, you could give Hercule a run for his money, in the world of police investigation."
"If my health was better, I could still give that future husband of yours a contest".  Matriarch Deroulard insisted, with a smile in her voice as well as on her lips.   "Age has no place in the arguement.  Now out with it. Am I correct in my implication, Virginie?   Is Monsieur Poirot going to request my permission to marry you?"
"Yes", Virginie replied with a smile.  "And I hope this will not become an cause of friction,  but if..."
"And why would it?"
Taken aback by her aunt's apparent agreement to the idea, Virginie reminded her aunt that she and Poirot had not been seeing each other for long enough time.
"And so continue to see each other . That's what engagements are for,  after all. In the meantime, if you are even.... reasonably certain that you want to marry,  now is the time to be...well, as certain as a person can be.  This is the time when you will BOTH be more yourselves instead of always putting your best foot forward.  In everyday life, we don't always do that."  The woman managed a quick shrug,  A non-verbal   'C'est la Vie'   " An engagement, my girl,  is the time of learning if a couple is  willing to put up with those less-than-perfect days;  yours as well as his."
Rising from the bed, the older woman made her way over to the dressing table and kissed her niece on the crown of her freshly shampooed hair.    "I will grant your policeman's request, if that's what you truly want".
"It IS what I truly want,  Auntie".
                ~~~~~
  True to his word,  Hercule Poirot arrived at noon and, over lunch of hot roast beef sandwiches,  put the question to Madame Deroulard.    "I would,"  he began to say,  and then excused himself with a raised finger so he could properly swallow a forkful of his meal.  "Pardon. I should not have begun to speak until first I swallowed my meal."    "You do not seem to mind the same meal, two days in a row?"   Hilde  inquired;  joining the two for their noon meal.
"It is either this, or dreading what might be in store in the police- station lunch room.  I much prefer this.   Thank you for permitting me to sit down to lunch with you.  May I ask where is Virginie?"
"She made it a point of running an errand at specifically this time, so that you could put your question to me without my feeling pressured to give in".   Matriarch Deroulard did her best to sound serious as she watched the young police officer.  "I will make this quick and easy, Monsieur Poirot.    OUI!  YES.  If your intention, in coming here, is to request permission to marry my niece,  then permission is granted".
Poirot smiled and nodded his gratitude.  "Merci Beaucoup, Madame."
"TWO things,"  the old woman spoke up as soon as she set her water glass on the lunch table.  "Are you CERTAIN you want to marry my niece or are you merely giving in to societal pressures.   The padre was less than tactful;  talking about performing your wedding."   Madame Deroulard rolled her eyes.  "I promise, if that man was not one of God's representatives,  I could happily have strangled the man with his own tongue!"
Both Poirot and Hilde chuckled.  "Madame, in some way, we are all representatives of le Bon Dieu and yet,  who among us is sinless,  Hmm?  My job, for example,  was assigned by the good Lord to see to it that justice;  in the world, or, at least, in my small corner of the world,  it could be done.  Still,  I forget this and take some of the credit for myself. I hope this will not be the problem that is on-going but I do not make the promises I may fail to keep". 
   Poirot followed the last forkful of food with a long drink of water.
"And now, to your question, Madame;  I wish to marry your niece.  Virginie.  She is a woman most beautiful.  She has a kind smile. This says much of the nature.    " The eyes",  they say,  "are the windows of the soul' .  What I have seen so far tells me that your niece is a good friend who would also be a faithful wife and a mother , who would be, to her children, the best example.  All in all, the virtuous woman.  The man who is blessed to be able to name this woman as his wife has riches that the world cannot calculate."
The old woman merely listened.
"Monsieur,"  Madame Deroulard spoke after the briefest pause, once the young officer finished talking.   "I trust you. What you say is entirely true. It is my sincerest hope that you are being completely honest with me."
Poirot's tone was utterly sincerely serious.  "Madame, I could not look you in in the eye if I was not honest.  More important, I would not be here,  asking for something I did not want. I love Virginie, Madame.  Given your permission, I will  do my best to give her a good home.  I cannot promise life will be completely without the tears, but I love her enough to try..."
"Just love my niece and take care of her, young man",  Virginie's aunt cut into young Poirot's  plea.  "Life , for better and worse, will do as it will. All you can do is deal with it , get each other through the trials and savor the blessings.  If you are willing to do share those days, one at a time, for as long as you live, then YES,  Monsieur Poirot,  you have my permission to ask my niece for her hand in marriage."
The woman's smile informed him that she already knew what the answer would be. All the same,  Hercule Poirot had the most difficult time keeping worse-case imaginings at bay.