CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"You really should speak with your parents about this," he said nervously.

"Marcel, you're not in trouble," said Nine. "But it's one of the many things we've wondered for a long time. We know the pond helps to keep us youthful, but I think we've all gotten so used to seeing one another we don't realize how young we really look. When Cap saw us on the screen the other day, he was visibly shocked. I should have asked about it then."

"Yes, you're all quite handsome," he smiled.

"Marcel." The man nodded, rubbing his forehead for a moment, then taking a few deep breaths.

"Your parents' abilities are beyond my comprehension. I've always known that your father is an angel."

"And my mother?" asked Alec.

"Uh, well, less angelic," he grinned.

"Dude, you are not helping. Why do we all look so young?" asked Whiskey.

"At Belle Fleur, time is slowed. Not for the world around us, or the news, or the horrible things that happen. We see and interact with the world as it happens. Timely. However," he said, standing, then decided to sit as his head hit the roof of the plane.

"Why is there always a ‘however'?" asked Angel.

"Yes, sorry. However, your parents' fondest wishes were to have as much time with one another and all of you, blood and non-blood, as divine intervention would allow. It's a bit Dorian-Gray-like, but without having to sell your soul."

"I'm still not clear," said Nine.

"You all, perhaps me too now, are aging at about one-third the rate of others. You are seventy or seventy-one, but you appear to be late thirties. This is why Martha was thought to be a witch."

"Wait, Martha was long before Mama and Pops," said Alec. "Were there others?" Marcel squirmed again, shifting as the others stared at him.

"I should very much like some food and drink."

"In a minute," growled Gaspar. "Continue."

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "Yes. There were others like your father. All who died before their time."

"Like you," said Angel. Marcel opened his mouth, then closed it. Shaking his head, he placed his hand over his mouth. "Are you an angel as well, Marcel?"

"N-no. I mean, I don't think so. Wouldn't I know that?"

"I don't know, brother," said Whiskey. "You said there were others like Matthew."

"Yes. It's something to do with our family, our bloodline. Matthew has been able to slow the aging, just as Martha was able to do so for everyone on the property. She and Franklin lived healthily well into their one-hundreds."

"Are we going to live that long?" frowned Tailor. They all stared at him. "Well, I mean, I gotta plan better if I'm livin' into my hundreds. I eat a lot of fried stuff and sweets. Maybe I should watch my weight."

"That's what your wife has been telling you for thirty years!" yelled Nine.

"I know, I know, but up until now, I didn't see a reason to listen to her," he shrugged. Marcel grinned at the big man, shaking his head.

"I do not have all the answers for you. But I do know that you all appear much younger than your peers at the same age because you have been blessed by an angel."

Gaspar said nothing at first, just looking at his baby brother, Alec.

"Pops said we were intended to do good on this earth," Gaspar said softly. "Maybe there's more to do."

"Well, then," smiled Nine. "Let's get to work."

Matthew was waiting for the men as they stepped off the plane at the Robicheaux airstrip. Marcel was the first off the plane, walking right up to the man and looking down at his face.

"I didn't tell them everything, Matthew. Forgive me," he asked.

"Marcel, my child, there is nothing to forgive. You were honest and gave them the truth they needed in the moment. I appreciate that you told them only what needed to be said. It's alright," he said, hugging the man.

"You called me ‘my child,'" said Marcel.

"I did. Like all the boys here, you're one of mine," said Matthew.

"I think I like that," nodded the former ghost.

"Pops? Nice to see you," grinned Gaspar.

"I just wondered if you boys had any questions about what Marcel told you," he smiled. They all looked at one another, then laughed. He knew everything. Absolutely everything.

"No, Pops. I think I'm coming to grips with the idea that I don't need to know everything. But I know I'm damn glad you're ours. You're our Pops, and I'm forever grateful for that."

Matthew just laughed, hugging each of the men as they followed him toward the SUV.

"Well, that's good to hear. Come on, let's go visit the new lion." The men chuckled, then Gaspar stopped, gripping his father's sleeve.

"Lion!"