The Wedding of Jean Lassiter and Yusun Kolb

Talking quietly in the garden beforehand.

The exchanging of rings.

Married!

Cutting the cake

There was quite a turnout.

Rickard tearing up the dance floor. Jean and Yusun took a more subdued approach.

Leftover cake. Also who invited the barbarian who left their cake ON THE GROUND?!

A beautiful night for two beautiful Sims.

Spring and New Life

Jean didn't exactly handle things gracefully.

Beyond belief, Cora was back from the dead. Yves was over the moon, and she insisted they call the boys home from boarding school at once. They did, but all was not immediately well. Jean was angry, incredibly angry. Wouldn't you be, if your mother had died suddenly when you were a child, leaving you with a less-than-attentive father and a younger brother that in many cases you had to parent yourself? Jean had been forced to grow up too quickly, and here he was, on the cusp of actual adulthood, facing the person who had, whether she had meant to or not, taken his childhood from him.

Something Yves had never thought to have again.

In an attempt to smooth things over and to celebrate the reunification of the family, all of them spent the rest of the winter in the sunny hills of France. Jean and Rickard had never been, and Yves was itching to see all his old friends in Champs le Sims.

They booked a pair of rooms in a charming inn and spent a glorious couple of weeks relaxing and enjoying themselves.

The boys slept in and got to eat breakfast in an empty dining room.

Yves caught up with old friends.

Cora found her old favorite bench and spent some time with a good book.

 Back at home, the family seemed to have patched things over. Winter was finally over and spring was in full bloom. I got them a new table, wanting to get rid of that old tiny thing and the memories it held - and with extra seats in the hopes that soon Jean would be adding to the family.

 Cora spent a lot of time outside, working valiantly to bring her struggling garden back to life and continue with her dream of having a huge nectar collection.

As I thought, it seemed Jean had new sorts of things on his mind.

Yves seemed to realize how Jean had grown up.

Cora, working away with her now multiple Nectar presses.

The vacation to France seemed to have left quite an impression on Jean.

As had the recent long winter.

And he still had a lot of issues to work through.

He had found his love.

Jean ended up asking a girl named Yusun Kolb to prom, and it was quite clear they were meant for each other.

He proposed at graduation, with the rest of his family, well, being themselves. To be fair though, if the love of your life had come back from the dead, you'd kiss her too, wouldn't you?

The wedding is scheduled for a few days from now, once the leaves are fully in on the trees (the reception is outdoors). I'm really hoping it doesn't rain.

All in all, it seems like life is back to normal for the Lassiter family. Jean still doesn't have the best relationship with his mom, but at least they can have a conversation without it devolving into a yelling match. That's progress, I suppose. We'll see how things go when Yusun joins the family in a few days.

In Her Absence

In an instant, everything changed.

She pleaded to stay, to no avail.

And just like that, she was gone. Yves was alone with the two boys and nothing but his memories of how lovely she had been.

His last sculpture, a wine rack, a gift for her, sat unfinished in his studio.

Jean's grief made visible.

Jean, the eldest son, took it especially hard. He painted this, a tombstone with a single flower, the day after she died. Instead of selling it to supplement their very short income, Yves kept it and hung it in the bedroom he once shared with Cora. It was a painful reminder, and more than once I saw him standing weakly before it, crying softly.

Jean even dreamed of the fire.

Yves, mourning in the midst of her garden.

The empty chair where she used to sit.

The finished wine rack.

 Eventually, he finished the rack. What had been intended as a gift for her was now sold. The struggling family needed money more than sentimentality. That being said, there was actually very little time for him to work, for the house still needed managing, and there was Rickard the toddler, who thankfully was too young to understand what had happened, or why his father and older brother were miserable.

Her beloved garden fell into ruin

 Despite his best efforts, Yves didn't have the skill with the earth his wife had, and her garden withered and died. Ironically, Life Plants, laden with fruit, sat unharvested, a painful reminder of what had been snatched from the home. Not that they could've saved her. I like to imagine, though, that they could.

His mother?

Much like his father, Jean threw himself into his work, painting almost tirelessly in between school and homework. His skill advanced quickly, and soon he became the primary source of (albeit meager) income for the family, as Yves was still too grief-stricken to do much more other than care for Rickard and perform the most basic of survival functions.

So, Jean painted.

And painted. I'd like to think the greenery was homage to Cora.

And painted. He was getting better.

Much better.

Incredibly better. Yves kept this one instead of selling it.

Yves noticing his son's talent. Not sure if that's admiration or jealousy on his face.

Rickard's birthday celebration

Letting the professionals handle it.

 

Rickard aged up, a quiet affair, a chair for Cora conspicuously empty. It was one of the most mirthless birthdays I'd ever witnessed.

The dishwasher broke again, but this time I stepped in and called a repairman. I was not leaving these two boys complete orphans.

Was this his representation of his wife?

 

Life went on, and fall moved into winter. Yves gradually found time for sculpting, but his grief still consumed him. He began sculpting the same statue, over and over again, no matter what material. I watched, partly in horror, partly in sadness, but mostly in morbid curiosity. When I play Sims I make a few decisions for them, but for the most part I leave them to their own devices to see what they'll do.  I didn't let him keep any of these statues, though. I was not about to let his grief cripple his ability to provide for his family.

The house, quiet, lonely, buried in snow.

Jean's work continued to mature as he aged.

 Because Yves was a workaholic, his lack of progress and income began to seriously gnaw at him. He had just aged from young adult to full adult, and with that came the Mid-life Crisis that plagues some sims, particularly those who aren't feeling particularly fulfilled.

His older son Jean had just aged into a teen, and although Jean was doing most of the heavy lifting in regards to keeping the family afloat financially, Yves had a crazy idea, and per my policy of letting them do their thing, I let him do his thing. Was this his attempt at regaining some semblance of control over his life? Was he trying to free himself of other responsibilities so he could focus on his work? Was he trying to give the boys a better environment so he could heal himself for a while? I don't know. I just watched while he did it, and I might've been a little sad. I don't know what his reasons were, I just know this was a very sad, lonely little family.

Placing the call in the bathroom like a coward.

He sent them to boarding school.  I don't know if he didn't want the boys to hear what he was planning, or if maybe he just didn't want to see their faces, but he placed the calls in the bathroom. I watched, wanting to stop but knowing this was their story.

The taxis arrived one cold winter's morning, early. The boys didn't even have time to finish their breakfast before they were whisked away to separate schools. He wasn't even allowing them to go to the same one, to have each other. I began to wonder if he was some kind of villain, if he was not the romantic artist I'd first taken him for. Or had the loss of Cora simply ruined his vision of the world?

Jean's room, now empty.

Yves, dining alone at that sad little table.

 He threw himself into his work, now without any 'distractions' or responsibilities. I had never seen a sim work so hard without complaining. He made, over the next two weeks, probably twelve or thirteen different sculptures. He sold them all, the household finances were finally in order. He furnished the upstairs, finally, filling out all the blank spaces he and Cora had intended to fill together. The boys occasionally called or sent letters; he never called back.

And quietly, just as the money improved, so did his 'lifetime happiness.' Normally I use the points to purchase something that will benefit their careers or make life easier, but this time, he had way more points than they usually did. I didn't even know what to do with them, so I picked a reward I'd never used before: the Dusty Old Lamp.

I don't know which expansion it's attached to, I guess you could google it if you're curious. All I know is it appeared in his inventory, and I set it on a side table for several days before I had the courage to get him to inspect the thing.

He did, a genie appeared, and I don't even recall what was on the rest of the list, because all I saw was one thing - one thing that would surely put everything back the way it needed to be. The one thing that would heal this poor broken family.

And so it was, in the middle of winter, Yves' cold, broken heart, finally healed.

And just like that, she was back.

With Autumn Comes the Long Night

 

    In the early days of their marriage, life for the Lassiters was good. Cora's garden was flourishing, and she had even won an award from the city for her contributions to the local food scene. Yves was an aspiring sculptor, so he spent most of his days in his studio in the basement, working away with clay or wood. Cora quickly learned which crops sold for more and started focusing on those, while Yves toiled almost endlessly to improve his skill, coming up from the basement only for what amounted to the basics of survival. They barely saw each other, even though they both worked from home and were on the same lot 24/7. 

    

First moments of labor

    Even with all that work, there was time enough for other activities, and it wasn't long before they found themselves expecting their first child. The birth kinda snuck up on us all, and once again they were pitifully broke, living bill to bill, harvest to harvest and sculpture to sculpture. 

Even in sleep, Cora dreams of work.

 They were both exceptional parents from the beginning, taking turns to watch over their son, Jean, who for a sim baby seemed remarkably fussy.  He demanded a lot of their time, and Cora began to see her garden fall into decline as she had less time to care for it.

   Cora and Yves were two ships passing in the night, and barely spoke or acknowledged each other. Even with Yves having 'workaholic' as one of his traits, he began wanting to spend time with Cora more than he wanted to sculpt or sell his work, and that was how I knew they were really falling deep into their own isolation.
  

    
     Autumn was marching stolidly onward, though, and many nights covered the garden in a layer of frost so thick that it took a few warm days to remove. So, when she could not garden, she spent extra time with Jean, doting on him. As they saved up some money, she also purchased some planter pots and moved some of her more valuable plants inside, to continue the growing season even through the increasingly colder days and nights.

Cora and Jean among the plants of her tiny conservatory.

    Even as her food harvests diminished and their profits (or in many cases, barely breaking even) fell with it, so too did their budget, and more and more of her harvests began to find a home in their own larder instead of being sold at the local market. Their home, though poor, was a beacon of warmth and love, a pool of golden light sheltered from the increasing frost and meager meals.

A quiet book on a frosty day.

 
      Jean was never hungry, though many nights his parents might have had less than they wanted or eaten leftovers for the umpteenth time in a row, keeping careful track of which were oldest so that nothing was spoiled or wasted. Jean knew nothing but love and attention, and Cora doted on him.

Yves worked

And worked.

And he worked. Exhaustion was a regular thing for him.

The new second story, with Cora enjoying a rare warm day.

        More and more, Yves worked while Cora raised Jean. While there was plenty of love, the labor was not quite shared. His sculptures were regularly bringing in about 1300 simoleons each. With the extra money, they scrimped here and there where they could, and with a little work they added a second story to the house, literally a wall or a room at a time as they could afford it. Even when 'finished' with paint and flooring, many of the rooms sat empty, devoid of furniture or light fixtures, or anything except the hope that one day the whole house, not just their few little ground rooms, would be full of life and light.

Jean's birthday and a cake they couldn't afford

 And a good thing too, Jean was having a birthday and would soon be starting to school. As a present they bought him furniture for his new room.








 But Cora was still worried about money. Yves tried to reassure her, confident in his growing skill and too prideful to admit that they might be struggling. Also maybe a little too focused on his work to realize he wasn't even really getting dressed each day, just stumbling down the stairs to the studio in whatever he had passed out in the night before.

     All I could think of while watching them fret was of the common meme making fun of the HGTV show "Househunters." Click the link if you're unfamiliar with the joke.

"Hi, I'm Cora, a home gardener and this is my husband Yves, a freelance sculptor."

You get the idea.

To compensate, he spent even more time in his studio, and she saw him only for a few minutes here and there, in passing, at night, in the early hours, whenever they could squeeze in a cup of coffee together. And once again, even those few fleeting moments were enough to add another small, looming reason to be worried: she was pregnant again. 
      In a moment of frivolity she had taken Jean to the autumn fair and gotten her face painted. Now, in the early morning, with the reality of a second pregnancy and even more bills piling up in the face of the oncoming winter, that one tiny act seemed stupid and wasteful.

Cora with Rickard.

     Their second son, Rickard, was born in the last week of autumn. Her garden was barely producing, spending more time dormant than workable. Yves, too, like the roots of her garden seeking nourishment below ground, spent more time in his basement studio than above it, frequently napping on a small futon down there instead of coming up to bed. He would come up to grab a plate of leftovers from the fridge, or to shower or use the toilet, but then he was back at work.

Then, the unthinkable happened.