***
Marian opened the door of the big house, exhaustion and fear causing her to shake. The image of Philip wandering the streets of New Orleans alone brought tears to her eyes. She was so afraid for him.
It was her fault he’d run away. If she’d been there for him when he needed her, he would still be at home and not lost on the street somewhere. She was a terrible mother not to have realized the depth of her son’s continuing grief at Jean’s death.
Claire came running around the comer. “I’m so glad to see you! Louis brought Philip home.”
“Thank God, he’s back! Where is he?” she asked not giving Claire time to respond, but moving toward the stairs.
“He’s upstairs, waiting for you.”
She lifted her skirts and ran up the stairs hurrying down the hall. He was home! Flinging open the door, she burst into his room to see him, unpacking his suitcase, putting his clothes back in the chest. He glanced up at the sound of the door opening, his eyes troubled, his face downcast.
“Hi Mother,” he said meekly.
She went to him and took him in her arms, hugging his small frame to her own. “Are you all right?”
“I’m okay. Mr. Fournet found me walking and brought me home.”
Louis had found her son and brought him home. She felt a sense of relief and overwhelming gratitude for her partner.
“Philip, you scared me so badly. Why did you leave, son?”
He stepped out of her embrace. “You found my note?”
“Yes, I’ve been out looking everywhere for you.”
He shrugged. “I get tired of everyone telling me how bad my father was. I miss him. I don’t want the kids to make fun of him anymore.”
Marian felt her heart plummet for her son. The urge to scream at Jean almost overwhelmed her, though she knew she couldn’t reach him beyond the grave. But his selfish acts had touched more than her life, their children were affected by his immoral behavior.
“Oh, Philip, you’ll always love him,” she said trying to soothe her son and temper her anger at her dead husband.
“Yes,” the boy said. “But how could Papa have married two other ladies? Didn’t he love you, Mama?”
Marian sat down on the bed and pulled her son down beside her. “I don’t know why your father did this. I think he loved me as much as he could. We just have to go on and know that what he did is in the past and forgive him. We’ll get through this Philip, I promise.”
“The kids call the other women the Cuvier Widows,” he said, his big green eyes sad.
“Yes, I know. The adults are calling them that also. Sometimes people say hurtful things and no matter what you do, it makes you sad,” Marian said.
“I wish Papa were here and that none of this had happened.”
“For you and Renee, I wish he were too, but we can’t change the past, only move forward. Someday soon you’ll look back and realize this is all behind you,” she said leaning over and kissing his forehead.
Philip glanced down at his hands, his mouth drooping.
“What else is wrong, Philip?” Marian asked.
“Have you been kissing Mr. Fournet?” he asked.
Marian stared at the boy, her face feeling frozen. “Who told you that?”
How could he know about her and Louis?
“My friend Tom said his father saw you out dancing with two men,” Philip said, his eyes not meeting hers.
“Yes, remember that night I went with Louis and I told you we were taking out our biggest client. Did he tell you I kissed Louis?” she asked.
“No. I just wanted to know.”
“Would it matter?” she asked.
Philip gazed at her, his forehead wrinkling in a frown. “Depends.”
She sighed. “I like Louis. Yes, I kissed him. Does that upset you?”
He smiled. “No. I just wanted to know. Louis told me this afternoon that he kissed you.”
Surprised, Marian managed to hide her reaction from her son. “What else did he tell you?”
Her son shrugged. “He told me he likes you now.” The boy smiled at his mother. “And he wants to kiss you again.”
Marian shook her head, a warm feeling coming over her. “That’s nice.”
Dear God, was the man crazy? The boy had enough to trouble him without Louis telling him about them. “Promise me that you won’t run away again, without talking over whatever is bothering you. I love you and I was frightened, Philip.”
He glanced down. “I’m sorry. I promise to talk to you.”
Marian felt a sense of relief, even if she knew that the boy could run away again. She’d found her son and he was safe. She hoped the troubles that sent him running were at least soothed if not yet solved.
“Okay, I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”
“Already?”
“Yes,” she said, and walked to the door. “I’ll come back to tuck you in.”
“I love you, Mother.”
His comment took her by surprise and filled her heart with love. Since he’d started to grow up, it wasn’t often he said those three words. She blinked back tears. “I love you too, Philip. I’m glad you came home safe.”
Wronged (Book 1) Page 45