Gastien Pt 1

by Caddy Rowland

  “Excuse me. I understand that you painted these paintings on the walls, is that correct?” the man inquired.

  Jean Beauchamp’s mouth dropped open. Beaming, Paul looked at Gastien and winked.

  “Oui, actually I did,” said Gastien simply.

  “Well, we think they are fabulous! Maurice tells me you can be hired for portraits. Could I hire you to come to our estate and paint my wife? I would like a portrait done for our dining room.”

  Gastien looked at the woman. “She is very lovely. I would be honored, Monsieur.”

  “Great! How do we set it up?”

  “Well, generally I am paid fifty percent of the price up front, which will help to buy the supplies. We set up the days, and you have your man bring the carriage to pick me up.”

  “Excellent!” Fees were agreed upon quickly, the amount surprising Jean. They made arrangements as the man handed Gastien the down payment. “I will see you Sunday then!” he said pleasantly.

  “Oui, Monsieur, and merci. Madame? I look forward to painting your loveliness for your husband.” Gastien kissed her hand.

  After the couple left, Gastien turned to give his father a sarcastic half smile. He went, got their food, and brought it to them.

  “Why didn’t you tell me these were your paintings?” Jean said angrily.

  “Oh, it was much sweeter this way,” admitted Gastien. “Besides, you saying these paintings are good means nothing. You would not know good art if it bit you on the balls. Enjoy your meal.” He walked away.

  Jean hurriedly ate his meal while Paul tried not to laugh. When finished, Jean hurried out, not even bothering to say goodbye to the owner. Paul, though, hugged Gastien tightly. Paul whispered “Mon Dieu, I have missed you. I can’t wait to tell Mother about this! I knew you would make it.”

  “Not yet, little brother, but I am on my way. Look for me in Montmartre in a few years.”

  “I promise I will. I have great news, Gastien. I am engaged!” Paul announced happily.

  “Paul, oh how wonderful for you! Who is the lucky woman?” It turned out to be Matt’s daughter, Rebecca. Gastien was very happy for Matt and Rebecca, too. “Congratulations, Paul. You will make a perfect couple. I remember how cute she is!”

  “Oui. I Iove her very much,” stated Paul simply.

  They hugged again. Paul sought out Maurice to thank him for both of their meals, explaining that his father had not felt good and needed to leave in a hurry.

  Maurice had heard all of the conversation since seating Gastien’s father and brother. When Gastien walked by, he put a hand on his arm. “Gastien, I had no idea your father would treat you that way. I am sorry I sat them there.”

  Gastien looked at him and grinned. “Oh, that is all right. I rather think my father enjoyed his crow.”

  Maurice grinned, too. “I am not sure he did. He left in a hurry.” Then he turned serious. “If you wish, I won’t buy from him anymore. You are too valuable to me.”

  “Non! Please do continue to buy. My brother Paul will soon run the farm. Please don’t stop doing business with them, Paul works very hard and is a good man.”

  “Agreed. I will continue to buy.” Then he laughed. “Mon Dieu! The look on your father’s face when you admitted that those were your paintings!”

  “Oui! That was sweet,” agreed Gastien. He continued working, happy to know he had a painting appointment that Sunday.

  XXXIX

  Around the first part of December, Gastien paid a visit to Father Fournier at Notre Dame. It had been several months since they had seen each other, although they did keep in touch by letters. Father had been very happy to hear about how Gastien's life had turned for the better. Gastien wrote asking to see him for an evening. Father wrote back right away, inviting him to dinner.

  Gastien arrived with a large parcel in his arms. He presented Father with a painting he had done that showed the two of them at the table the night Father had found him in the cathedral. In the painting, Gastien was looking up at Father with a spoon halfway to his mouth, while Father cut him more bread. Gastien had captured both the compassion in the Father’s face and the fear in his own. When the Father saw it, he cried. Brushing at his tears, he spoke. “Gastien, this painting is stunning! How you capture emotion on the face is truly a gift. Merci beaucoup for this.”

  “You are very welcome, Father. You saved my life, you know.”

  “Nonsense! You saved your own, with the help of God, or since you don’t believe, just by sheer determination and wit. I only gave you a minimal amount of help.”

  “Father, I see it quite differently. I will always consider you a highly regarded friend. I also want to give you this money,” said Gastien, handing the priest a respectable sum from the money he had In the bank.

  “Gastien, non – “

  “Father! Do you remember what you told me about allowing someone to give? Please allow me that pleasure now. Use this money for other homeless who come to the cathedral looking for shelter. I don’t care if you use it for meals, for warm blankets, or what. Just use it to help others like you helped me.”

  “Merci beaucoup, Gastien. I will make sure it is put to good use.”

  “I am sure you will. Now, please! Feed me! I am, as usual, starving!”

  They spent a pleasant evening talking, promising to continue keeping in touch.

  XL

  Almost before Gastien knew it, Noël was arriving. He spent the holiday with Mic and Mic’s new love, Clarrisa. Nathalie was at home with her family. After the holidays she would be traveling for a few weeks, so Gastien would not see her until mid January. Mic and Clarrisa were together quite a bit now, but Gastien doubted it would last. Already there was bickering, because Clarrisa wanted Mic to “settle down” and give up his “hobby” to make a living so that they could have a family. Gastien knew that would not happen. He truly wondered when Mic would learn that love was just not worth the effort.

  Finally, in mid January, he received a letter that Nathalie would be in town that weekend. She asked him to meet her at her apartment Sunday, since that was his day off. He looked forward to finally seeing her again! He enjoyed many women, but Nathalie had become a very close friend. It was always nice to share great sex with someone who you also knew and liked immensely. He bought a good bottle of merlot from Maurice on Saturday to bring with him.

  On the way to Nathalie’s, he impulsively stopped at a florist to buy her flowers. That would surprise her, he thought, because he was not generally very romantic. Nor did he fool himself that he was in love with her. He was simply glad to see her again. It had been over a month! They had a lot of catching up to do, both in and out of the boudoir.

  He ran up the steps at noon, rapping at the door. Nath answered almost immediately. Gastien grinned at her, then handed her the flowers and the vin. “Nath! It is wonderful to see you again!” he cried, “Happy New Year!”

  She smiled at Gastien, but somehow the smile seemed a little less luminous than he was used to. As she reached for the flowers and vin, he could not help but notice the huge diamond on the ring finger of her left hand. One would have to be blind to not see that rock! He suddenly felt queasy. He stared at it a moment. Puzzled, he looked up at her.

  “Nath?” he asked in a hurt voice, “Nath? What’s going on?”

  Nathalie was trying hard to maintain composure but one tear slid down her face. “Oh, Gastien! Come in, please. We need to talk.”

  Suddenly Gastien wished he was anywhere but where he was. This was not going the way he had planned! It appeared that things were about to change in regard to their relationship. He followed her into her front room, where they sat on a sofa.

  Nervously, Nath asked, “Gastien, would you like a drink? I have whiskey, or we can open the vin.”

  “Nath, stop! Please. Just tell me what is going on!” He reached out to touch her. She did not stop him, but neither did she reach for him. Suddenly her shoulders started shaking. Nath started to cry. She flew into his arms an
d sobbed, burying her face in his neck. She clung to him for dear life as the sobs reached their crescendo and finally ebbed. Gastien simply held her, keeping her close. He knew that she would get to the details when she was ready. Right now she needed him to just let her be.

  Finally, she stopped crying. She composed herself and pulled back. Looking somberly at him she said, “I am getting married, Gastien. The wedding is in two weeks.”

  Gastien’s jaw dropped. “But why, Nath? Did your gentleman finally demand you settle down with him?” He nodded, realization dawning. She had caved in to his pressure! “That has to be why, because I know you were not ready to go play wife yet. Why would you agree to his demands now? We are having so much fun!” Gastien just could not understand. Why in the world would she decide to marry now?

  “Gastien, for me, life is not just about fun anymore. Things have changed,” she said.

  “How? Exactly how have things changed? I mean, if you are tired of me that is fine. We agreed to no commitment, but why would you ruin your life like this? I just don’t understand – “

  “Gastien, I am pregnant,” she said flatly.

  Gastien was in shock. Pregnant? Nath? Nath was going to have a baby? Sure, he knew that women had babies, but he thought Nath knew ways to make sure that wouldn’t happen. “But, how?”

  She laughed tensely. “How??? Gastien, you certainly know better than most what actions are taken that may result in a baby. Don’t be ridiculous! Why would you ask how?”

  Gastien blushed. “I am sorry, Nath. Certainly, I know “how”. I guess I just thought you knew how to make sure it did not happen.”

  “Well, those things do not always work. Obviously!” She was on her feet, pacing, fighting to get some control.

  Gastien was angry now. “Or maybe you wanted the baby! It seems women always end up wanting babies, doesn’t it? Just when we were having the time of our lives, you decide to have this gentleman’s baby, so that you can play mommy. I give up, Nath! I can’t figure women out. Even you can’t be counted on!”

  She slapped him then – hard – across the face. The noise of it rang out in the room. As her handprint appeared on his cheek, Gastien looked at her, stunned.

  Before he could say anything, she cried, “Do you think I wanted this right now? Do you think I want to be stuck away in some big old estate away from Paris with a fifty-year-old man, managing his business entertainment, watching life go by? Do you think I did this on purpose?”

  “Well, you didn’t have to sleep with him! And, if you did, you could have done whatever it was you did whenever you were with me to assure it did not happen!” snapped Gastien.

  “The baby is yours,” she said quietly.

  Gastien felt like he had been punched in the gut. The baby was his? Staring, he swallowed. “I am going to be a father?” he asked stupidly.

  “Non, you simply fathered a child,” she said coldly. “My fiancé, Elliot, will be the father.”

  “Well, that was rather harsh!” Gastien narrowed his eyes at her. “How do you even know it is my child? I don’t mean to be the rude one now, but we both had this agreement for freedom.”

  She looked at him sadly. “I know because you are the only person I have slept with in three months.”

  “That’s not true! We were enjoying a variety of people! Many times we went home with others – “

  “Many times YOU went home with others. I did not.” She turned her back on him because she did not want him to see the emotions that surely must be running across her face.

  Gastien ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t believe you! Why would you only sleep with me?”

  She whirled around to face him. “BECAUSE I AM SO IN LOVE WITH YOU THAT IT HURTS TO BREATHE!!” she blurted out. “BECAUSE IT IS ONLY YOUR FACE THAT I SEE IN MY MIND EVERY LIVING SECOND THAT I AM AWAKE, AND DURING EVERY DAMN DREAM! DOES THAT HELP, GASTIEN? DOES IT HELP YOU TO KNOW THAT? BECAUSE IT SURE AS HELL DOES NOT HELP ME!” She was crying again.

  Gastien did not know what to say. She was in love with him? Mon Dieu, when had that happened? He was crazy about her in a sexual way, but in love? He was not in love. He did not envision spending the rest of his life with her. Nor did he want to hurt her, he cared very much for her as a person and a friend. But, love? Love meant commitment, a home with a family. Yet, she was really hurting right now. He opened his arms. “Nath, come here.”

  She sank back down next to him, letting herself be enfolded in his arms. How she wished she had not told him that she was in love with him. It made her feel ashamed. She had been so sure she could control her emotions. She had denied it for awhile, but the first time she had seen him and glanced into his eyes, she had known. She just hadn’t wanted to admit to it. She should have run as soon as she had known, before she even bought him the champagne. She should have just gotten up out of her chair, walking away like it was any other night. But she had wanted him so badly! It was like an invisible force, drawing her to him. Foolishly, she thought she could enjoy him, yet be strong enough to keep her heart out of it. And now her heart was not her own. Nath could feel it breaking.

  He held her for quite some time, stroking her face and hair, kissing her. “It will be fine, Nath. It will all turn out just fine.”

  Finally she sat up. “Gastien, I am sorry. I did not mean to tell you that I am in love with you. I know you aren’t in love with me. Listen, these things happen. We always knew I would marry Elliot sooner or later. It just happens to be sooner.” She started crying again.

  “Let’s be realistic. Even if I had been the type that wanted a wife and family, can you honestly say that you would be happy with me, Nath? I mean, come on. You are used to satin sheets. I don’t know for sure if I will even have a bed to put sheets on, in a year. You are used to fine furnishings and clothing. I am lucky if I live somewhere that has running water. I plan on living in Montmartre within a couple of years. There is no gas, running water or plumbing there. It is still a village! Can you see yourself living like that?” She sniffled. “I am sure you can’t. You are a smart woman. You know marrying me would mean we would end up hating each other. You would despise that type of life.”

  She considered that a long while. Finally she looked at him and had to agree. “You are right, of course. I would hate being married to someone who could not give me financial security. I have always had that. Even though I can provide that myself now, I have always expected that at some point of my choosing there would be a man to take very good care of me.”

  “See? What we have had has been very wonderful, Nath, but it has never been real life for you. It has been an adventure, a fantasy that you had to act out. I am just a bit player in your life, and it is time to move to the next scene. Can you see that?”

  She reached out to push his hair behind his ears. “I can see that it is time for the next scene, but you will never be considered a bit player.” She leaned to him, planting soft kisses all over his face. “My heart is telling me differently, but my brain is telling me that you and I are a sonnet, not a whole symphony.” She was silent for several minutes. “My dear, darling Gastien. How will I live without you? Without the excitement and the candid conversations?”

  “You will live well, chèri. Besides, you can always write to me. We can talk that way.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that or not. If I feel I can, I will. I will have to decide what is best. But I do promise that I will send a picture of our child to you when it is born. I will also try to let you know yearly how the child progresses.”

  “That would be lovely. If I get a painting job at someone’s home, you can always send a letter to the restaurant. Maurice will always know where to forward it. I do love you, you know, in my own way. I may not be in love, Nath, but I love you. Does that make sense?”

  “Oui. You care deeply about my well being and happiness, but you don’t want to be responsible for it.”

  “Nath, don’t – “

  “Non. I don’t mean that harshly.
Isn’t it true? You love me, but you don’t want to merge our lives as one. I am all right with that. It is good to know that you love me.”

  They both smiled sadly at each other. Soon they were in each other’s arms again, but it was not for any reason other than comfort and caring.

  Gastien pulled back. “What about Elliot? Are you going to lie to him, having a baby that is born early? Are you going to be able to live with that?” asked Gastien. Nathalie had always been so honest. He could not imagine her doing that, but women did it all of the time.

  Many artists had affairs with women above their class and, pregnant or not, when the time came for marriage it was never the artist that was chosen. If the artist was foolish enough to fall in love, they were the ones hurt. A woman depended on a man for financial security. If she was modern enough to take a bohemian lover, she was also smart enough to toss him to the side when security was at stake. Sometimes they still carried on an affair, but the artist was never the one chosen to be with legally.

  Nathalie said, “Elliot knows, Gastien. He knows it is not his child. He knows about you. We have always been honest with each other. Well, almost. He does not know I am in love with you. I imagine he suspects it. I also imagine he knows that I would not really be happy with you, just like you knew. He is sterile, darling. He has never been able to father a child. He is quite pleased that I will bring a child into the marriage. We are marrying quickly so that others do not know.”

  Gastien thought that was more than he would want to take on in Elliot’s shoes. “Are you certain he is happy about this?”

  Nathalie laughed tensely. “None of us are totally happy about it, are we? But there are advantages for all of us. He gets his wife and a child. I get financial security and my reputation. You get to continue your freedom.”

  “I should be at least somewhat responsible for the child. It was fathered by me.”

  “Shut up, Gastien. Please don’t go trying to play a part that you are not cut out for. I don’t mean to be harsh again, but what could you provide that we won’t provide better? It is your turn to be realistic. You cannot provide for a child well, but you have fathered one. I am sure that you will have, or already have, some concern about its welfare. Be glad that you will have a child that grows up in a very wealthy home with all the privileges that provides. Your child will have the best of everything, including two parents who will love it and care deeply for each other. In return, I must ask you to not interfere. It would be confusing to the child. Please. Don’t come to see the child. Will you promise that?”