“One moment, please. So far, Professor Erlichstein has only performed these transplants on animals. There is no clinical data on humans. His success with animals, however, has been impressive. If we can persuade him to operate on your wife—which I certainly can’t guarantee—would you be willing to take the risk?”
“Take the risk, you ask? What other choice do we have?”
“All right. Such an unorthodox procedure requires some eyes to be shut and some mouths to be stilled—”
“Don’t worry about that, my brother has some influence and I—”
“Provided I can convince the professor, we still need a donor—”
“That is no problem. I happen to have two very healthy kidneys.”
Dr. Villon looked carefully at Etienne. “Monsieur, are you certain you want to do this? It’s very dangerous. …”
“My wife is dying. How can you ask such questions? Now, let’s not waste any more time.”
The doctor nodded. “None, I assure you, will be wasted.”
Etienne gave the bad news to his mother and Jean-Paul. Then he told them of the new kind of surgery. Madame began to pray silently. She knew it would take a miracle. …
Late that afternoon Dr. Villon spoke to Etienne again. “I’ve just gotten off the phone with Professor Erlichstein. …”
“Yes? …”
“At first, he was reluctant. But when I told him that you yourself—the husband of the patient—had volunteered to provide the kidney, he changed his mind. He’s agreed to perform the operation. …”
When she heard the latest news, Madame went directly to the small sanctuary, closed the door, then knelt down and prayed. She remained there until Jean-Paul came down to insist that she go home. She did so, but only under protest.
At nine o’clock the next morning Doctor Erlichstein was in conference with Dr. Villon, who would assist him. The results of Jeanette’s blood tests were examined, as well as her urine. Etienne was x-rayed, and tests were run. The two doctors prepared for surgery. Wife and husband would be operated on simultaneously. The professor would explain the procedure, step by step, to Dr. Villon in the operating room.
The surgery took hours, during which the doctors found Jeanette’s left kidney badly damaged, but the right one should function normally, they felt, with the help of the transplant.
Following the surgery, Jeanette and Etienne were taken to separate rooms to recover. The operations had been a success, but certain aspects of her case would have to be falsified. The miracle couldn’t yet be announced to the world. But each doctor felt that he had been true to the oath he had taken. Hopefully, a life had been saved. Both men would sleep better that night.
Etienne recovered quickly and without complications. Within two weeks he was on his feet and dismissed from the hospital. This was not the case with Jeanette. Her previous streptococcal infection had sapped her strength before the operation, so her recovery was slow, much slower than the doctors had hoped. She ran high temperatures, she was in constant pain.
At one point within the first forty-eight hours, the doctors feared that perhaps the transplant had been unsuccessful, that Jeanette’s body might reject the new kidney. Tubes were inserted into the urethra in order for her to void.
Studies by laboratory technicians were analyzed and the results suggested that the source of infection was in the bladder. A relatively new “miracle” drag was administered. The drug was a risk, since it also affected the kidneys, but the doctors felt that they had no choice.
The days turned to weeks, the weeks to months, and, thanks to the doctors, the miracle drug, and a miracle from a higher source, as maman pointed out, Jeanette was able to be discharged from the hospital after three long, tortuous months. Her weight had gone down drastically, and she felt unbelievably weak.
Her convalescence at home was slow, but gradually, finally, she began to rally. Little by little her appetite returned. She was allowed to leave her bed and sit in a chair for a short period each day. Then she was told she could walk, although just back and forth in her room, which she did with the help of Etienne’s arm.
Each day Madame and Jean-Paul paid her visits. And finally she was allowed to see Henri, whom she longed for. He had grown so much during her illness she could hardly believe her eyes. He was two and walked and talked, saying the most delightful things, making her laugh and cry at the same time. She tried to hold him close to her, but not for long. He would leave her bed and play, getting into everything, and Etienne would be forced to take him back to the nursery. The other children came, too, along with Madeleine and Clothilde. Etienne had been not only her comfort, he had, in fact, saved her life. What more could a man do for a woman … a husband for a wife? … And what else could she feel for him except the profoundest love?
By June she had recovered to the point that Etienne could take her for short drives in the country. With the coaxing of Madame and Clothilde, her appetite began to return. Gradually she gained a little weight, which pleased Dr. Villon, who continued to see her each day.
After it appeared that Jeanette’s recovery was complete, Etienne asked Dr. Villon if it was safe to take her on a three-month Mediterranean cruise. The doctor was enthusiastic. There was nothing like an ocean voyage to restore the spirits, he assured him.
They planned to leave after Bastille Day, the fourteenth of July. Jeanette wanted to be with the children, to see their excited faces as the fireworks burst in the air. They planned a special celebration, which would be a birthday party as well; she would be twenty-three.
Dinner started earlier than usual. Henri sat high on a stack of pillows between his mother and father. Jeanette could feel the look on Jean-Paul’s face—his fine resolutions to himself during her illness had been beyond him to keep. She refused, though, to let it bother her. Tonight was much too special.
After dinner, Etienne gave her his gift—a ruby and diamond necklace and earrings to match. She decided that they were the most beautiful jewels she had ever seen. And the most unnecessary.
“Etienne, darling, thank you, but you have already given me … everything.” There were tears in her eyes as she kissed him.
All eyes were on them as Jean-Paul got up and poured himself a large brandy and gulped it down, then poured himself another.
Finally Henri became sleepy and, going to Etienne, he climbed on his lap, sucked his thumb and put his head against Etienne’s chest. Madeleine was called to take the child to bed. He kissed Etienne first, then his mother, his grandmother, the other children.
Then: “Kiss Uncle Jean-Paul,” Madame said.
For a moment he hesitated, then quickly obeyed, planting a small kiss on Jean-Paul’s cheek as he took Madeleine’s hand and said good-night.
As a finale, each of the children played a short piece on the piano. How grown up they were, Jeanette thought, remembering the day she had arrived.
When, on Etienne’s arm, she walked up the stairs to their room, she thought the day had been the most satisfying she had ever had in her life. Her life … yes, this was a true birthday. She had really been born. Reborn. At twenty-three.
On the fifteenth of July Jeanette and Etienne waved good-bye to the family from the window of their compartment on the train that would take them to Le Havre. There they would board the boat. The only moment she felt sad was when she saw Henri waving good-bye, and wished he were old enough to go with them. She already missed him.
She looked at Jean-Paul. How lonely he seemed. They hadn’t been together since shortly before her illness, and she wondered briefly how he had been managing. But only briefly.
When they reached Le Havre and boarded the ship, the excitement of boat whistles blaring, clouds of flying confetti, waving of handkerchiefs by friends and family that stood below was contagious and they joined the milling crowd at the rail, waving to no one in particular, calling out to anyone at all their delight It was a marvelous, magic moment.
Their suite on the boat was a sitting room, bedro
om and bath, all spacious and well furnished. Jeanette went to the porthole and looked out at the soft blue sea, watching the white ripples of the water.
“Etienne, I’m so happy we came. It was a wonderful idea, and you are a wonderful man whom I happen to adore—”
He encircled her with his arms, her back to him as she still looked out the porthole. “Between the devil and the deep blue sea,” he said, and she turned, smiled and kissed him.
“Some devil,” she said, kissing him again … “and now, sir, what about that lovely champagne?”
Etienne bowed low, then uncorked the champagne, which had been chilled to perfection in a silver bucket “Here’s to both of us,” he said, touching his glass to hers. “To you and me, together … one …” He kissed her and quickly changed the mood with, “Now I want you to rest while I go up on deck and see the purser and make arrangements for the late dinner sitting.”
“All right, darling, but don’t be too long?”
“Wild horses and so forth … Now into bed with you, young lady.” He kissed her and left.
The first night out Jeanette, dressed in flowing white chiffon, wore her rubies for the first time, as well as the diamond bracelet and wedding band. Her shoes were ruby red, and she carried a tiny beaded bag of the same color. Etienne wore a tuxedo, and they complimented each other extravagantly; beaming at each other shamelessly as they waited for the elevator to take them to the main salon, where they sat at a table for two, not needing or wanting any other company. Etienne was immediately aware of how often other men turned their heads to admire her. Women looked, too, though their reasons for doing so were different. …
For Jeanette, there was only one man in the room. He was no longer lame. He was easily the handsomest man there. He was her husband, and she wanted to shout it out to everyone in that dining room, everyone in the whole world. …
Later that evening, lying in bed waiting for him to join her, she said tentatively, “Etienne? …”
“Yes?”
“Can I talk to you about something?”
“What kind of a question is that?”
“Well … please come closer, over here … yes, that’s better. …I’m afraid I have a confession to make—”
He smiled. “Well, that does sound pretty serious … please proceed, Madame, and I’ll try to be generous—”
“Etienne, be serious … this isn’t so easy. …”
“Sorry, darling, go ahead.”
She took hold of his hand. “When we were first married, I loved you as a kind and wonderful person. You reminded me very much of my father … but I thought … I thought I wasn’t in love with you.”
“I knew that.”
She looked startled, and then there were tears in her eyes. “And you still married me … knowing that?”
“Yes … and I would again.”
“Why … how could you want me as your wife if you knew I wasn’t in love with you?”
“Because … I loved you so much, it just didn’t matter. I would have been happy if you had never changed, but you have, and—”
“Yes, I’ve changed, but not as much as you think, or as I would have thought … I’m trying to say that I loved you more than I understood … even then … but I had to grow up, and with it grow into that love. …Do I make any sense, darling? …”
“The very best, from my point of view.”
“And, Etienne, it was you who helped me grow into that love for you … your kindness from the very first, and understanding. I knew I liked you so much, and that was the beginning. …And, please, Etienne, don’t ever think that I came to love you out of gratitude”—and when he started to protest, she shook her head and said, “no, please, let me say it so I’ll never have to say it again, or you ever have to think it. It happened long before that, just how or exactly when I’m not sure. I’m only sure that I love you more than I have ever loved anyone in my life, or ever will.”
“Jeanette, darling, what can I say except—”
“I should have told you all this before, a thousand times. … Etienne, I want another child so badly, we’ve tried so hard—”
“No—not after what you’ve been through, darling. It just isn’t necessary. You’ve already given me something I never believed I’d have, a son. I certainly don’t need other children. All I need or ever want in my life is you and Henri.”
Taking her in his arms, he kissed her, and she whispered, “Etienne, make love to me.”
“I want to, but are you well enough?”
“For you, I am strong. Please, darling, please …”
He did not keep her waiting.
The cruise was marvelous. At each port they bought presents for everyone. Whenever the ship docked, they ate at exotic restaurants, Spanish, Moroccan, Turkish, Greek, Italian, tasting dishes they’d never had before. It was a whole new adventure … and part of it was discovering themselves. …
The warm balmy nights aboard ship were as close to paradise as they ever expected to get. …Their days were filled with activities, but Jeanette especially enjoyed sitting on deck as Etienne read poetry aloud to her. She would close her eyes and listen to the resonance of his voice and relax in the pure pleasure of it. Of him.
“Etienne, I love your voice … aha, I have it, that’s when I must have fallen in love with you, the moment I heard your devastating voice that first day in the library. Do you remember? …”
“I’ll never forget … and I also think you’re crazy. Did you, by the way, hear me sing? Better be careful.”
She laughed and reached over and hugged him.
And then, as though it were only yesterday that they’d come aboard at Le Havre, the trip was over and they were debarking at Le Havre.
When the Paris Express came haltingly to a stop, they were met by the entire family. And dinner that night was very festive indeed. On top of their joy at returning home, they were celebrating their anniversary.
As Jeanette was dressing for the party, Madame came in to see her.
“I can hardly believe you’re the same Jeanette that you were three months ago. …”
“Oh, maman, I never had such a good time. A good time. Do you understand what I mean? Etienne was such a joy.”
“I think that Etienne is walking on the clouds. He looks like a man who’s just come back from his first honeymoon.”
Jeanette took her mother-in-law’s hand. “You are a very wise woman, maman.”
“And what makes me so wise?”
“Remember what you told me that day in Provence?”
“You mean the day I proposed to you?” She laughed.
“You told me that out of respect love can grow.”
“Oh, did I say that? Well, I agree, I am indeed a wise old woman, especially if my brilliant, lovely daughter-in-law says so.”
“Joke if you like, maman, but the fact is I have fallen madly in love with your son. My husband.”
The older woman put her arms around Jeanette. “Thank you, thank you for talking to me this way, and I no longer joke. I also remember something you said.”
“What?”
“That you would make Etienne a good and devoted wife. And this you’ve done before everything else. But knowing that you’re in love with him as well makes my life complete. …Now finish dressing or I shall cry, which would be silly since this is a party,” and she hurried out of the room.
Jeanette stood quietly for a moment, allowing herself to savor the special feeling of pleasure and contentment left with her after her talk with maman. Her look was drawn to the four-poster bed. From now on, it and she would belong only to Etienne. Jean-Paul would never invade their privacy again.
Deciding that was easier than facing the prospect of telling him in person, but she’d made up her mind she had to do it. When the roadster stopped in front of the apartment building which had been their place of rendezvous for three years, Jeanette hesitated before getting out. She straightened her shoulders, got out of the car and walk
ed up the stairs.
Jean-Paul knew at once that he was meeting a different Jeanette. The expression on her face seemed to confirm his worst fears. He felt it, he knew it. He had, finally, lost her.
“Come in,” he said. “After all, we’re not exactly strangers.”
His tone surprised her. She wasn’t certain what it meant
“Sit down. Take off your coat … it’s warm…I don’t want you to catch cold. …Especially since you look so healthy and radiant after your cruise. I’m sure it must have been marvelous, a fine tonic, just the thing to recuperate by. …”
“Yes, it was, Jean-Paul.”
“Of course it was. I’ve never seen you look more glowing. In fact, you’ve filled out so, one would think perhaps you might even be just slightly pregnant. Now, wouldn’t that be jolly? Etienne a father for the second time, and this time no problems. No guilt. No Jean-Paul. Are you pregnant?”
His voice terrified her. She tried to relax, to compose herself. This was not the way she had rehearsed it
“I take it silence means no. Very diplomatic. …Well, whatever, I must say you certainly look different. And now, my love, suppose you tell me just what this new you is all about.”
Jeanette was trembling. She didn’t know how or where to begin. How did she tell the man she’d once thought she loved, without question the man she’d been obsessed with, that the obsession was over? The man whose child she had borne?
She took a deep breath. “Jean-Paul, I would like to discuss this like two civilized people—”
He began to laugh. But there was no humor in the laughter. He had heard those words before, but they had been spoken by him to the several ladies he’d been obliged to deprive of his attentions. He didn’t at all care for the situation being reversed.
“Jean-Paul,” she began again, “during my illness I had a good deal of time to think. I found myself taking a hard look at my life—”
“And what, my love, were your findings?”
“I didn’t like what I saw. I suppose I never did, but I was careful not to look too closely, for my own selfish reasons that I could somehow usually justify to myself. …”
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