Chateau Michaud, Gardens: Damien's Coming Out

[The Exodus]

Before you reach the seemingly endless rows of grapevines that are the lifeblood of Chateau Michaud, there is a small courtyard with rosebushes, vine-covered archways, some small café tables, benches, and a bubbling fountain. It makes for the perfect getaway during big, noisy parties hosted indoors.

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene


Ashton wanted nothing more than to help in the process of setting Damien’s party up. She had pushed tables around and blew up multi-coloured clusters of balloons until her feet, swollen from pregnancy, told her to face reality: manual work was not her forte at the moment. She stepped outside into the fresh air, easing herself into a comfortable, cushioned chair on the outdoor patio, high heels swinging from her wrist like an overweight charm bracelet. Five months of pregnancy were catching up to her.

She looked through the window to see Bill and Lucian rushing about, silent through the glass panes, as they made Damien’s party gradually come to life around them. Ashton watched with a smile. She longed to be in there, helping them, seeing that every detail was to Damien’s specifications. It was, after all, his party, and he deserved for it to be more than what he wished for. It needed to be beyond perfect, and Ashton wanted so much to be a part of that preparation. But the way her hips and back cried with each movement told her that she had done enough.

But when she saw a sullen Damien come outside to join her, her joints silenced themselves and her heart spoke. She could still do more to make this party the best that it could be. For one, she could see what was troubling him.

“There’s tonight’s leading man, looking dashing as ever!” She said, beckoning him over. “What’s on your mind?”

[The Exodus]

Damien Blackwood-Michaud

Damien knew he ought to be happier than he was. After all, it was his coming out party. Tonight would be devoted solely to him, Damien Alexandre Blackwood-Michaud. It would be a party filled with music and dancing and food and a bunch of the people Damien loved best from England and France in order to celebrate him and his self-acceptance. Tonight, his boyfriend, Toddy St. James, would meet all of his dearest friends ut there was one big, fat raincloud looming over the night.

Only a few nights ago, Damien had had the row to end all rows with his mum. As the party drew nearer, Natalie Blackwood had finally shown just how uncomfortable having a gay son made her.

Well... sort of.

Maybe Damien had jumped to conclusions hastily. Maybe he had unfairly accused her of not loving him. And maybe, just maybe, he ought to give her some time to adjust before thrusting his flamboyant boyfriend and artistic lifestyle toward her and asking for unquestioning acceptance.

Or maybe he was just a little spoiled by his dad's warm acquiesence to Damien's needs.

Or maybe things were still just messy because of the divorce and affairs that hallmarked Natalie and Lucian's marriage. Maybe it didn't matter who Damien brought home-- man or woman-- because all either of them saw when looking at him was their disappointment in each other.

Whatever the problem was, Damien was ninety nine percent sure that his mum wasn't coming tonight. As he, Lucian, and Bill put up decor, Damien couldn't help but feel this dark void in the room where his mum ought to be. There was silence where her crisp voice ought to say: "Higher, Luc. My God... get off the ladder. Never send a man to do a woman's job..."

Even the gardens looked empty without her touch. Natalie took care of the flowers much better than Lucian's hired gardners.

Damien wanted his mummy to be here, to love him, whatever. As he stepped outside for a solitary smoke, though, he saw one reason why Natalie's absence might be a good thing. Ashton had done nothing to endear her to Natalie. Pregnant and engaged by and to Lucian, Ashton was like a final middle finger to what Damien once thought of as his family. He liked her well enough, but seeing her now in the gardens made Damien's head spin. Ashton was here for him when his own mother was not.

"There's tonight's leading man, looking dashing as ever!" Ashton cooed, waving him over. "What's on your mind?"

Damien laughed humorlessly and took the seat opposite her.

"Better question," he said. "What isn't on my mind? Would you be angry if I smoked?"

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

"Better question," he said. "What isn't on my mind? Would you be angry if I smoked?"
Ashton pressed her lips together in thought. Pregnant or not, Ashton couldn’t abide smoking. It was gross and unhealthy and she could never willingly invite that into her body, much less her developing son’s body, second hand or not. But the last thing Damien needed now was for Ashton to wrench the whole blasted pack from his hands and stomp it to the ground.

“I have a better idea,” she said, taking Damien’s hand in her. “How about you just tell me what’s wrong? It’s better for you in the long run.” Which was true. Her and Gregory’s health aside, smoking was a temporary fix, and Damien would feel like hell later as he coughed up phlegm and warning signs of death. One less cigarette was one day longer he was on this earth. “I’m a great listener. I promise.”

That last bit wasn’t a lie. Ashton was a good listener when the time, like right now, suited her. She was a far better talker, capable of breaking records for words per minute should she put her mind to it. But today was about celebrating who Damien was as a person, his future, and everything he would come to be. And though Ashton never wanted Damien to be sad, but if Ashton had to pick a day for Damien to be happy on, it was today.

“So tell me, love. What has you so down? You’re supposed to be happy today!”

[The Exodus]

Damien Blackwood-Michaud

If Ashton had been Bill or Lucian, Damien would already by smoking. He wouldn’t have even asked. Bill would have lit the cigarette for him; Lucian would have given him a mixed sympathetic-disapproving smile and let him. But Ashton had never really liked that Damien smoked. She probably liked it less now that she was pregnant.

“I have a better idea,”Ashton said, taking Damien’s hand in hers. “How about you just tell me what’s wrong? It’s better for you in the long run.”

Damien snorted. He took a cigarette out with his free hand, but didn’t light it. Instead, he twirled in between his fingers so he had something else besides Ashton to look at.

“I’m a great listener. I promise,” Ashton insisted.

Damien doubted that. In all the time he’d known Ashton, she’d been the talker. He’d been the one to clam up and go silent, listening as she prattled on about whatever she could find that they might have in common. In that respect, it was probably good Ashton found Lucian. Damien couldn’t think of anyone who talked more than her except his dad.

“So tell me, love. What has you so down? You’re supposed to be happy today!”

“Oh, I’m happy mostly,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about it.”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

“Oh, I’m happy mostly,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ashton looked at Damien, skepticism oozing from the pores on her glowing face. If Damien was anything like Lucian, something was truly troubling him, but he didn’t want to put his burdens on Ashton, didn’t want to look weak. When would they learn that Ashton didn’t mind? That their happiness was just as important to her as her own? That seeing them upset was just as bad as being upset herself?

“Damien,” she said, leaning forward, taking his hand in hers, “You know I’m going to worry about it. Mostly isn’t good enough. Not today, anyway. Talk to me, Damien. Tell me what’s wrong. Because I’m not letting you back in there until I see a smile.”

She offered him her warmest, gentlest smile. Perhaps he would borrow it and use it throughout his party—she had plenty more she could wear or dole out as needed or deserved. It was Damien who needed one; one without the smallest trace of insincerity in or behind it.

Nothing had the right to make this party bad, and with Ashton unable to physically make it better, this, making him happy, was the least she could do, especially for the man who had been so accepting and understanding about her relationship with Lucian. She owed him one.

[The Exodus]

Damien Blackwood-Michaud

“Damien,” Ashton said, stealing his other hand. The cigarette fell to the ground. “You know I’m going to worry about it. Mostly isn’t good enough. Not today, anyway. Talk to me, Damien. Tell me what’s wrong. Because I’m not letting you back in there until I see a smile.”

She smiled at him; Damien grimaced back.

“That good?” he asked through clenched teeth. Then, giving up the ruse, sagged his shoulders and pulled away from Ashton’s grasp. “Look… I don’t wanna talk about it. Not with you; not with dad. Why don’t you just go get Bill for me? He’s the only one here who won’t gloat because I’m fighting with mum.”

He stopped talking the second he realized what he said. Damien put both hands over his mouth, tenting them and sighing into his palms. Now Ashton would gloat. She was probably locked in some fierce, unspoken, psychological duel with Natalie. That was the way second wives and first wives interacted in books and on the telly and in films. Why not real life?

“Erm…” Damien said, shifting. “Don’t mention that to Dad. He’ll go batshit and want to know why and he’ll call her and they’ll fight and…”

Damien cleared his throat.

“Can we pretend I didn’t say anything at all, actually? That’d be good.”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

“That good?” he asked through clenched teeth. Then, giving up the ruse, sagged his shoulders and pulled away from Ashton’s grasp. “Look… I don’t wanna talk about it. Not with you; not with dad. Why don’t you just go get Bill for me? He’s the only one here who won’t gloat because I’m fighting with mum”

Ashton was taken aback. Damien barked at her, assumed she’d gloat at the fact he was fighting with Natalie. On the contrary, Ashton emphasized. Fighting with parents, no matter how rocky things were, was never rewarding, never left you with a good feeling. Ashton could remember months she spent doing nothing but bickering with Henry. And for someone as close to their parents as Damien, Ashton could only imagine how it was eating at him inside.

“Erm…” Damien said, shifting. “Don’t mention that to Dad. He’ll go batshit and want to know why and he’ll call her and they’ll fight and… Can we pretend I didn’t say anything at all, actually? That’d be good.”

Ashton tapped her chin in thought. “I’m sorry you’re fighting with Natalie. I know how upsetting fighting with parents can be. And I won’t tell Lucian.” She leaned back in her chair and looked out at the gardens, watching Damien from the corner of her eye. “I also won’t tell him how you just snapped at me.” She sighed, not wanting to sound hurt or bitter. She faced him again, her eyes no longer prickling in the back. “I get it. You’re upset. Rightfully so. And if there’s anything I can do, let me know.” She folded her hands in her disappearing lap and cautioned a glance in his direction, checking for a smile.