Almost as soon as we'd set up everyone's instruments, Pierre came to call, dressed in that green and gold sweater he often wears during this season. "Abi?" he asked quietly.
We all froze. Abigail glared at him before turning away to stalk toward Sam's drum set.
"Penny informed me you'd be here."
"Snitch," hissed Abigail under her breath.
Pierre folded his arms. "Do you guys have permission to play here?"
Sam shrugged, his smile crooked and not reaching his eyes. "I mean, Lewis isn't mayor anymore, and there's no one who can legally tell us we can't. Unless there's something going on here later that we weren't told of…"
Pierre frowned. "Uh, never mind. I'm here for Abi."
Abigail didn't answer him. She flopped on her stool and began rapping on the cymbals.
"Abigail, I—can we talk? Your mother and I are worried about you. Moving out is one thing, but you can't keep avoiding us."
She increased the force and speed of her beats.
Pierre raised his voice in kind: "Could we please talk about this like adults?"
The drums reverberated through the center like peals of thunder. Indeed, the tension between them hovered over me like a heavy black cloud. "Oh, so now you want to treat me like an adult? Now you want to talk? Why didn't you talk to me when it would've mattered?"
Pierre fell silent, lifting his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose. Then he marched up to the drum set and clutched one of the cymbals, halting Abigail's trance. "I'm trying to talk now. Doesn't that matter?"
Abigail stared at him with wide eyes. Then her face withered into a scowl. "You can't see that I'm busy? Why're you even here? You're not my dad. You never were."
"Yes, I am!"
Behind the keyboard, I flinched at the force of his protest, tears stinging the back of my eyes.
Pierre's breath shook ever so slightly. His fingers clenched around the cymbal. He looked like he was slicing open a vein in his arm. "F—fine. I may not be your father by blood. But I…I am your father in every way that counts. I—I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took me this damn long to accept that. I'm sorry if I ever made you think I don't—"
However he'd been about to finish that sentence, he didn't get to. He'd taken too long for Abigail's liking. "I'm not doing this with you. Get outta here," she told him, low and icy. "Go divorce Mom, already. Or don't. Your problems aren't mine anymore."
Pierre lifted his chin and regarded the chandelier above us, blinking hard. His Adam's apple bobbed sharply through his neck as he swallowed. His eyes shone with tears he would not shed in front of us. "All right, then. I'll leave you to it. You…know where to find us if you need anything," he answered, his voice thick as his hand fell limply off the cymbal and to his side.
He turned to hobble across the foyer, through the door, and out of sight.
Then, and only then, did Sam speak up again. "Uhhh…you still up for practice, Abs?" What else could either of us say after witnessing such a moment? "We can take a break if you need one—"
"No. I came here to drum. Let's do this. From the top."
The above is an excerpt from my ongoing fanfic, The Alfalfas Got Talent! The band's latest rehearsal is interrupted by Pierre, who hopes to make peace with Abigail. Unfortunately, she's in no peacemaking mood with any of her parents right now.
Abigail has every right to be angry at Pierre and Caroline. They've kept a massive secret from her about her origins, her heritage, her very existence. It puts all the criticisms they've ever had of her in a terrible new light. They've just led a mob against Rasmodius for something he didn't do all because her mother was so insistent on hiding her mistake (story for another time!).
But don't think that she isn't mad at Rasmodius, too. He had years to step up and claim her but never made a move to until an outside party (i.e., Aina) forced him. As far as Abigail can tell, that damn wizard cared more about his nonexistent reputation than he did about her.
It's not that simple, of course. It's not that simple for anyone involved in this mess. But Abigail is in no mood for nuances, not yet. And Pierre comes to accept that through this encounter. I think he came in half-expecting her to blow him off, though the other half had hoped maybe this time she'd be open to talking to him.
It's really important to me that I show how much Pierre loves Abigail and always has, however imperfectly he's gone about showing it. He's never not wanted to be her father; otherwise, he wouldn't have felt so much anguish at the prospect-turned-reality that he's not.
But knowing the truth doesn't mean he's given up on her. He realizes that in order to love her properly, he must give her space to be who she is, space to figure herself out. And if and when she's ready to see him and Caroline again, they will greet her not with advice but with acceptance.
