He was silent a long moment and even in the dim light, she could see the consternation on his face. “That’s great, I guess. But . . . hey, Rebekka, he’s not even a member. I don’t want to put a damper on things, but look what happened with Desirée and me.”
“Samuel is not Desirée. He’s a faithful, wonderful man.”
“Still, do you want him raising your child?—Marc’s child?”
“We had a good talk tonight. I think he’s going to see the missionaries. But member or not, Samuel really is a good person. You can trust me on this.”
“Oh.” His voice sounded defeated, but she ignored the implication.
“So what happened after I left?”
“What?”
“The party. Did they talk about me?”
He grinned. “No, Rebekka, they didn’t talk about you. At least not until I left. Well, Josette did talk about how handsome Samuel was and that seemed to irritate a few people. Or at least one.”
“Oh? Who?”
He scratched his head. “Hmm, can’t remember exactly.”
Rebekka knew very well he was baiting her so she let it go. What did it matter what André said after she left? She didn’t care—or at least she had to pretend she didn’t.
“So did Valerie enjoy herself?”
“I think so. We, uh, left a little early.” He wasn’t looking at her now but at the wall.
“What happened?” Pushing her blankets aside, she scooted closer to him. “Tell me.”
“Uh, nothing. I found out she had come on the bus, and I didn’t want her to go home that way. She would have asked André to take her, but he was rather preoccupied with something. I volunteered.”
“And?”
“And nothing. I let her off at her apartment building, made sure she got in okay, and drove home.”
“I hear a but coming.”
He shook his head. “Not a but exactly.” He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. “I’ve been so worried about finding Nadia and having my divorce finalized that I haven’t been thinking about anything else. But suddenly watching Valerie walk away from the car, I realized I didn’t want her to go.” He let his hand fall and looked at Rebekka. “I—I’m still a married man. I shouldn’t be having these feelings.”
Rebekka stifled the urge to laugh. He had been repeatedly wronged by Desirée, yet in spite of the impending divorce, it appeared he had never considered a future without her. What would he say if he knew she’d let André kiss her tonight? Talk about unfaithfulness.
“Your divorce will be final soon,” she said, placing her hand over his. “And then you can worry about your feelings for Valerie. Has your lawyer found any trace of Desirée?”
“Not yet. The papers are all drawn up, though. All she has to do is sign when we find her. We’ve left messages with her parents, her last job, and at the bars she’s been known to frequent—just about anywhere we can think of.”
“You don’t think she’ll fight the custody, do you?”
His laugh was bitter. “I think she’ll be glad to be free—especially when she sees the endowment I’m setting up for her monthly expenses. She can’t touch the principal but even without that she’ll have enough to get by nicely if she doesn’t spend it on drugs or alcohol. After her death, the endowment reverts to my children to be split equally, or to you and your descendants if mine can’t . . . be found.” He swallowed hard. “It doesn’t matter if she objects or not. I’d fight her to the death on this. I can’t let Nadia grow up with her as a role model.”
“Valerie on the other hand would be a good one,” Rebekka pointed out. “I know she loves children. The Primary has never run so well as it has with her there every Sunday.”
Her brother sighed. “Do you think she would ever look at me twice? I mean, after the divorce and all?”
Rebekka was tempted to tell him Valerie already loved him, but it was too soon. The woman might not know it herself. “I think,” she said slowly, “that she’d be crazy not to. And if there’s one thing Valerie isn’t, it’s crazy.”
“She is pretty great.” He slapped both hands on his thighs as he arose from the bed. “Well, I guess I’d better get some sleep. Tomorrow I’m going searching for Nadia again in Desirée’s neighborhood. I keep thinking I’ll find some clue there.”
“I’ll come with you,” she offered.
He leaned down and gave her a hug. “Thanks, sis. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Chapter Twenty
November, one month later
Rebekka tried to pull herself out of bed, but for the past month, she was having a recurring pain in her side that defied all efforts to ignore. With a long sigh, she laid back down on the bed and tried to breathe evenly, willing the pain to go away. She rubbed her ever-growing stomach with her fingers. Is this normal? she wondered. Josette had assured her that the baby didn’t feel any of the aches and pains of pregnancy, but still Rebekka wondered if this torture she felt could be good for her child.
She couldn’t believe how big she was already. While at first she had measured smaller than normal, now her once-flat stomach seemed to stretch even as she watched, and she had gained another eight pounds. “That should make the doctor happy at my next visit,” she mumbled, taking another breath before she tried again to rise from the bed.
At least her morning sickness seemed to be completely gone—despite Josette’s warnings that it could last more than five months. There had been other changes in her life as well. Her eyes no longer slid to the other side of the bed to where Marc used to lie. The pain of his death was at last dimming, and she found that as she concentrated her love on their child, she could laugh again without feeling the heartbreak. She still missed him and figured she always would.
“You’ve got to get working,” she told herself aloud. “It’s Wednesday already and you promised Damon you’d have the chapter five manual updates done by Friday.” Steeling herself against the onslaught of pain, she forced herself from the bed. To her relief, the pain diminished significantly once she was on her feet.
After another of her frequent visits to the bathroom, she wandered into the kitchen, thinking of the work she would do that morning. She found Raoul at the breakfast table with Detective Francom, looking happier than he had all month.
Raoul sprang to his feet. “Rebekka, it’s good news! Desirée’s friend had a breakthrough after her last drug treatments. She thinks she knows where she left Nadia. Detective Francom drove right over there, but no one’s at the apartment. He’s having all the neighbors questioned, and they’re tracking down the building owner to see what records he has on the tenant.”
“That’s wonderful!” Rebekka hugged him.
“Well, don’t celebrate yet,” the detective reminded them, also arising. His eyes seemed to take in every detail of Rebekka’s thick flannel nightgown and white velour robe. Though modest, she knew she must look like a sight. “I hate to put a damper on things, but this woman, whoever she is, has had Nadia for over five weeks and hasn’t reported her abandoned. That’s not a good situation. Not at all. From what the one neighbor I already spoke to told us, I suspect she hasn’t been around for a long time.”
“You think she kidnapped Nadia?” Rebekka asked.
“I’m not jumping to any conclusions. I’m just saying we haven’t found her yet.”
Raoul’s worried look returned. “There are other baby brokers.”
“Exactly,” said Detective Francom. “But this is a solid lead, and we are going to do everything in our power to get your baby in your arms where she should be.”
“Thank you,” Raoul said.
Detective Francom nodded, his gaze swinging back to Rebekka. “And how are you feeling lately?”
She managed a smile. “A little fat. But actually quite well, thank you.”
“That doesn’t stop her from dating a very wealthy and important American business man,” Raoul said. “Well, mostly it’s on the phone, but they’re serious. An
d he’s not even the one sending all the flowers you see around here. That’s someone else, but Rebekka’s completely involved with her American.”
Rebekka wanted to hit Raoul and deny his words, but that meant she would have to explain the truth about Samuel and André. She wasn’t prepared to do that—yet. Not until she had convinced André to stop his pursuit of her.
So far he showed no signs of desisting. Each and every day since his proposal, he had sent her flowers or potted plants by way of a local florist. She tried to be annoyed when she talked to him, but mostly he made her laugh. He hadn’t tried to kiss her again, however, for which she told herself she was grateful. Never once had he asked about Samuel, and feeling guilty, she didn’t volunteer any lies.
The detective smiled. “Good. A beautiful woman like you needs to go on with her life. He’s a lucky man.”
Rebekka was touched by his kindness. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “I guess I’ll be on my way.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Raoul said. “I need to be going too. I’m visiting my lawyer this morning, and it’s expensive to keep him waiting.”
“I hear you.”
The men left and Rebekka eased herself into one of the vacant chairs, pondering over the idea of finally having Nadia with them. The infant would be three months old now. Would she be upset to leave her caregiver? Please let it be someone loving who has been taking care of her, she prayed.
Her hand massaged her distended stomach. If she was separated from her own baby, she couldn’t imagine what she would do. Next week at her doctor’s appointment, she would have an ultrasound and find out what she was having. It didn’t matter, really, but she wanted a son to carry on the Perrault name. So far only Josette had boys, who had their American father’s last name, and André’s adopted son had kept his original family name out of respect for his natural aunt, André’s deceased wife.
Rebekka was about to get dressed when the buzzer rang. At first she expected André’s usual flower delivery but was surprised to hear Desirée’s voice over the intercom. “Come on up,” she called. A million questions filled her head, not the least of which was whether or not she should call Detective Francom to let him know her sister-in-law had finally shown up. She decided to wait to see what she had to say.
While she waited for her sister-in-law to ride up the elevator, Rebekka hurriedly changed into a rib-knit sweater and skirt set—an outfit from her new maternity wardrobe— and ran a brush through her tangled hair. She reached the door just as the bell rang.
“Come in,” she invited, taking in Desirée’s appearance. The woman looked cold, as though she’d been outside a long time. Rebekka could feel the chill radiating from her as she passed. Desirée wore jeans that were at least two sizes too tight and her white T-shirt showed every one of her ample curves. She had always worn overly snug clothing, but this was worse than Rebekka remembered; Desirée had obviously gained weight since they’d last met. Instead of being carefully made up, though, her pale face was devoid of makeup and her long dark hair hung limply around her shoulders. She looked ten years older than the twenty-five she could claim.
“I know, I look a mess,” Desirée said.
“No, I just . . . you do look different.”
“I can’t seem to care about my appearance anymore. I just sit around and eat and feel miserable.”
“Have a seat.” Rebekka indicated a chair, and Desirée complied.
“I saw Raoul leave. I’ve been waiting out there an hour. I forgot a jacket and it was freezing, but I had to see you.”
Rebekka arose and poured milk in a mug and slipped it into the microwave. “Why?”
“Partly because I wondered about Nadia.”
“They haven’t found her yet.”
“I know.”
Rebekka didn’t ask how she knew. “They did find a lead today. Your friend is still undergoing treatment for drug and alcohol addiction, and she apparently remembered where she left Nadia—or thinks she does.”
Desirée sat up straighter. “Where?”
“The detective didn’t say her name, but I know she has at least one child of her own.”
“That’s good, then.”
Rebekka sighed. “Yeah, except the lady’s missing.”
“Oh.” Desirée’s expression became even more glum.
Rebekka offered her the warm milk, and when she accepted it, began making another for herself. The familiar weakness she always felt after not eating for an extended period of time had begun, and she needed something in her stomach quickly. “Here’s chocolate if you’d like,” she added, handing Desirée the carton.
“I talked to my parents,” Desirée said into the silence that followed. “They told me about the terms of the divorce, and I want to sign.”
“Raoul went to his lawyer’s this morning. You could go over there now and get it over with.”
“Well . . .” Desirée sipped her milk and looked uncertain. Rebekka could never remember seeing her this way. Desirée had always selfishly done exactly what she wanted with no regard to anyone who stood in her way. This uncertainty was out of character—at least for the Desirée Rebekka thought she knew.
“We know about the tickets,” Rebekka told her. “He won’t turn you in.”
Desirée looked momentarily startled. “My parents are going to help me with that.”
“Did you tell them about Nadia?”
She nodded and there was a shimmer of tears in her eyes. “They’re upset that I want to give up custody to Raoul. They’d rather have me live with them and keep her. But I can’t live with them again, and I’m sure not going to let them raise her. I know Raoul will give her the love and . . . the discipline that she needs. It’s the right thing to do.”
Rebekka watched her silently for a moment, her hand going again to her own unborn child. Did Desirée really know that giving up her daughter was right, or was she doing it because she couldn’t be bothered? Had really she begun to understand the importance of discipline, of setting limits? Given Desirée’s history, Rebekka couldn’t be sure if she was acting or being truthful.
“You’re having a baby,” Desirée said.
Rebekka forced her hand away from her stomach. She had thought the habit of stomach-touching odd and embarrassing in other pregnant women, but now she couldn’t help herself. “I’m almost four and a half months.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“Not yet. I’m having an ultrasound soon.”
“That’ll be fun.” Desirée’s attention wandered.
“I’ll go with you if you like,” Rebekka said.
“Where? Oh.” Desirée’s brown eyes focused again on her face. “That’s sort of why I came. My parents gave me money. Told me to get a new outfit—to face the judge about the tickets. If I pay them all, I may get off with only community service, or probation. I hope.”
“It’s possible.”
“And I want to sign the divorce papers, but I don’t want to going looking like this.”
“What do you mean?” Rebekka asked carefully. “Aren’t these the clothes you always wear?”
Desirée rubbed her face. “I’ve gained so much weight, but it’s not just that. I don’t know how to dress. Where to go. I—everything I like makes me look . . .” She gave a little sob. “I want to look nice. Professional. Like you. That’s why I’m here.”
Shock stole Rebekka’s voice. She and Desirée had never been friends, and in fact she had suspected that Desirée hated her. She had certainly mocked Rebekka enough over the past years. Like a playground bully, she thought. An insecure, playground bully.
Yet she couldn’t hold the past over her sister-in-law—not when she looked so earnest and so lost. Was this what Raoul had seen in his wife? Was this why he had tried so long and so hard?
“Okay, I’ll go,” Rebekka said, coming to her feet. “But only if you’ll sign the divorce papers afterward. Raoul needs to go on with his life. Deal?”
Desiré
e nodded, a tear escaping her left eye. “I should have let him go a long time ago.” She lowered her face to stare at the table. “A part of me thought if I held on, he could make me good. But all I did was cause him pain. Him and Nadia.”
Rebekka sat back down in her chair. “Oh, Desirée. Women can’t depend on others for happiness or for their choices. No one can make us be good or be something we don’t really want to be. We have to do it ourselves. We are responsible for our lives, not anyone else. The change has to begin inside us.”
“It’s not easy, is it?” Desirée asked, meeting Rebekka’s gaze.
“No.” Rebekka’s voice came out a whisper. “But it’s like learning to walk. We put one foot in front of the other and sometimes we fall down. Then we have to get back up.”
“I feel like I fell off a cliff.”
Rebekka smiled, tears gathering in her eyes. “I know that feeling.”
There was a stark, uncomfortable silence and then Desirée said, “I’m sorry about your husband. I really am. He was a good man. He was always nice to me. He gave me money sometimes, you know. Especially when I was pregnant.” She started to cry. “He didn’t know about the baby, of course. I wore clothes to hide it. I couldn’t tell him because I knew he’d tell Raoul. But sometimes—at least before I got too big—I would wait outside work when I knew he’d come by. He always had a kind word for me and would slip me something.”
Rebekka’s tears spilled over onto her cheeks. “That sounds like Marc. Thank you for telling me.”
Desirée let her face fall into her hands, and then down to the table as her fingers raked through her hair. “How can this all be happening?”
“Well, I guess we make our choices and the consequences happen.”
Her head whipped up. “Nadia didn’t make any choice! Your husband didn’t make a choice!”
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