“That small boat, over there?” Monsieur asked pointing.
“Oui, that one. It makes me feel…tingly.”
“Tingly?” he asked.
“Oui, happy all over.”
The three of us watched the boat approach. We looked for the name on the boat, but it was too far away. More excitement built inside of me. I wanted to jump up and down. I was wiggling with no way to stop.
The boat approached a dock across the water. Panic attacked my chest as I saw too many obstacles between me and the boat. Before I could say a word, Monsieur had all of us directed back to the carriage. I didn’t say a thing. I was headed toward Jean-Paul. Something told me he was there. Monsieur directed the driver to the other side of the harbor. Maneuvering around the water’s edge proved to be difficult. Delivery wagons waited on both sides of the road and traffic stopped as one lane waited for another to pass. I thought I might explode from frustration. I wanted to jump from the carriage and run.
Finally we approached the boat and I saw the name painted on the front side, Bella Eue. I released a huge sigh and looked around the dock to see if he had debarked yet. There was no sign of passengers. Monsieur found a dock man from the boat and asked about travelers.
“Yes. We have fifteen men aboard. They will all be required to take a ferry to Ellis Island for inspection.”
“When will they disembark?” I interrupted.
“Uh, I don’t know. Soon I guess. We have to unload this cargo and reload. We are leaving as soon as it’s done. I need to get back to work now.”
Monsieur directed us to the warehouse wall and out of the way. “Now we wait,” he said patiently.
About fifteen minutes later, I watched intently as passengers climbed off a plank onto the dock, led by a crew member. Jean-Paul was nowhere in sight. The crewman asked everyone to stand together, instructing them to wait for a ferry to take them to Ellis Island. The passengers looked weary and dirty. Where was Jean-Paul? I sent my distraught look over to Monsieur. He shrugged his shoulders. The steward was about to walk back on to the boat. I couldn’t hold myself back. I walked up to him and asked, “Are there more passengers? I am looking for Jean-Paul Soule.”
“Hum? Oh you mean John? He’s the only guy left. You must mean him.”
“Perhaps. Where might I find him?”
“They will bring him up. The men are working on a way to get him out right now. All the guys here liked him and gave him special treatment. He’s going to a hospital. If we dump him at Ellis in his condition, well, they will probably send him straight home. We all enjoyed his story about the woman he loved and lawyer guy who she’s going to marry. Hey, are you that girl. I can’t remember her name.” I assumed he was confused about the way the story ended.
“My name is Cherie.”
“That’s the one. Yeah, he really loves you. What a great guy.”
I didn’t really want to ask the next logical question. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know what was wrong with Jean-Paul. With tears beginning to form in my eyes I asked as he was about to turn away, “Why’s Jean-Paul going to the hospital?”
“Oh right. You probably want to know that. Well, we don’t know what’s wrong with him. He came on board pretty beat up. He has a few broken ribs. Who knows, maybe there was some internal bleeding. He’s been vomiting blood and having other problems. He just needs to get to a hospital. He didn’t mention that you would meet him here. Did he know you were coming?”
“No. He doesn’t know. When can I see him?”
“Hold on. I will see if they are ready to move him. The boys have been taking care of him as best they could you know. They made a little board to carry him out of the boat.”
“Oh God, I hope he’s okay.”
“He made it this far. The trip was hell. Oh pardon my language mam. I’m sorry. He’s one tough guy. He said that thinking about you kept him alive. I can see why. You’re awfully pretty mam. I hope John don’t take offense to me saying so.”
My head dropped into my hands and more tears leaked from my eyes.
“I will go see about John mam. Don’t you worry about it. He’ll get fixed up, good as new.”
The man walked away and I stood unable to move. Monsieur and Madam were standing behind me. I hadn’t noticed until the steward walked away. Madam placed her hand on my shoulder. Then she wrapped the same arm around me, hugging me from the side.
Ten minutes later men emerged carrying a make shift cot with a man lying down. I walked quickly toward the injured man. When I approached the cot, the men carrying Jean-Paul stood still. I looked down and gasped. I covered my mouth and probably scared Jean-Paul as he might have wondered what frightened me. A gray gaunt face resembling Jean-Paul met my gaze. I recognized the eyes immediately. The way he saw me with his eyes made me feel beautiful and complete. No gaze had ever made me feel more alive. He managed a weak smile. I bent down to hug him but before I could reach him a voice stated firmly, “Don’t get too close, for your own safety. We don’t know what’s wrong with John. He’s terribly sick. He’s lost maybe fifteen pounds. He might be contagious. It’s better to be safe. Jean-Paul didn’t say anything. I waited to hear his voice, to have him say he was happy to see me. I wanted him to tell me that everything was going to be all right, that he would marry me and we would be overwhelmingly happy. “Jean-Paul?”
His voice was soft in response, “Why are you here? How…did you find me? Cherie, you should not have come.”
He closed his eyes momentarily and swallowed hard. I had no idea how to respond. Does he not want me to be in America, or does he not want me to see him like this? I wondered. What was he really asking me? “We can talk later; when you feel better,” I replied. I looked at the men carrying Jean-Paul. “What hospital are you taking him to?”
“St. Vincent. I’m not sure when he will be delivered, maybe an hour.”
“We shall take him from here to the hospital. Can he sit?” Monsieur asked.
“We better take him in. He doesn’t have papers or money. The captain said he was willing to vouch for the guy. You know…political stuff. Just go to St. Vincent and he’ll be there later.
I just stared in disbelief at Jean-Paul. I couldn’t imagine leaving him right now. I wanted him to embrace me. If he could just hold me, everything would fall into place. How could everything be well if he could not feel my love and warmth against him?
For the next few hours I sat in a daze waiting for Jean-Paul to be released, and waiting to talk to his doctor, while nurses, tears, IV fluids, vomiting, fear and wondering overwhelmed me and hospital smell attacked my senses. When the doctor finally came in to tell us his diagnosis, I felt almost numb from the roller coaster of emotions that had flooded my body all day.
“Jean-Paul has suffered from broken ribs and trauma to some internal organs as well as trauma to some muscles with severe contusions. Fortunately for Jean-Paul, he is young and strong. It appears that the organ trauma created some internal bleeding. His body is working to eliminate the blood from the abdominal cavity. Compromised circulation has caused the gray tone in his skin. The vomiting of blood appears to be due to prolonged lack of food. Jean-Paul said that he was kicked in the abdomen several times and has found it uncomfortable to eat. His medical emergency at this time is severe dehydration and lack of nutrients. We are rehydrating him with intravenous fluids. This will help him regain his strength. I am going to release him into your care after his fluid level is satisfied. He needs to be fed light meals that are easy on the stomach. I suggest broth for a few days, soup and cooked squash or rice. When he can hold these foods down then he can have other food. If he does not eat and drink he will become ill again and will need to come back. This young man is lucky to have survived three weeks in this condition.”
“Thank you doctor,” Monsieur said. “We appreciate your help.”
Several hours later, we had Jean-Paul at the home of Monsieur and Madam. Monsieur helped him into a bed in a room next to the room I occupied.
Madam brought a chair into the room for me to sit on and asked that I leave the door open. They left the room and Jean-Paul and I were alone. I was the guest in the home of very generous people whom I barely knew. I understood their rules and convictions about intimacy prior to marriage. Yet I felt an overwhelming desire to lie beside Jean-Paul to lend him strength to push through this trial. I didn’t know if either of them had knowledge of why Andre became jealous and caused these injuries to Jean-Paul. If they had knowledge, they did not speak it aloud. Their requests, however, for proper behavior were communicated clearly. I sat on a chair beside Jean-Paul and held his hand.
Jean-Paul looked at me and said, “I feel silly needing all of this care.”
“I want to care for you. It gives me pleasure to do something for you,” I replied.
“How did you find me? I am surprised to see you here. How did you get here?”
“The letter that Andre wrote to you made it back to Martine. She arranged everything for me to come here, stay at this home, and find you. She’s amazing.”
“Why did she do all of it?”
“Because she loves and adores you. She knows that Andre is a man who would hurt you. Your loving aunt wants what’s best for you, and for me. She agrees that we belong together.”
“Andre was just protecting what he felt he deserved, which was to marry you. Many men would have done the same. He had an oath to rely on.”
“I don’t agree. There are far more respectable ways for a man to handle the situation. His was ghastly and barbaric. I know that you would not do such a thing. Besides, he knows how I felt, and that was never considered. I suspect that you would at least consider how I felt. Oui?”
“I can’t say what I would do if I was betrothed to you and you wanted to breach the oath.”
“Jean-Paul, Andre doesn’t love me. He loves the idea of marrying me and touching me. He doesn’t even understand me.”
“Andre probably does love you in the way that a man loves a woman.” Jean-Paul paused briefly. “A man falls in loves with a woman because of how she makes him feel. Men feel inspired to be the best man they can be and excited to be near a woman they love. They can lift more weight, fight with more strength and even paint better when inspired by a woman they love. Many men don’t understand that true love will consider what’s most important for the woman as well.”
“I don’t understand this kind of love. I don’t feel loved unless I am understood by a man on a deeper level than others understand me. I like it when you look at my face and can tell that something’s wrong when no one else can. I love how you appreciate my smile and laughter when others don’t notice. When you look into my eyes, I can tell you really see me, not just a pretty face, but me, a woman who cries, pouts, gets sick and wants more than most people. You feel who I am deep down, what I care about and what I am willing to give up in order to follow my heart. I feel safe around you, knowing that you know who I am and what I need. I also love that you are not trying to change me or ask me to be something that I am not. You love me exactly the way I am.”
“It’s true. I do love who you are. But I also love you enough to consider what is best for you.”
“You are what is best for me,” I said with a smile.
Jean-Paul didn’t smile. He looked at me quite seriously as he spoke. “Cherie, I had a lot of time to think on the boat while I was sick and in isolation,” Jean-Paul said soberly. “I thought about everything that happened. I sent that note from Andre back to Paris to ensure my loved one would not worry about me or think that I abandon everyone. I didn’t send it to cause you to risk your safety by traveling here alone.”
“Jean-Paul you don’t understand. In ten day they would force me to…”
“Let me finish Cherie, please. My duty was to come to America, to assist my family. I would do anything for my family as they have sacrificed much for me. Your family has sacrificed much for you as well Cherie. Your parents love you, their only child. They have done the best that they know in providing for you. It would be wrong to abandon them. I cannot take you from your family and feel good inside.”
“Jean-Paul? How can you even think these thoughts? Your words hurt me deeply. You are the one and only person on this earth who I want to be with. You are the only person who cares at all about what I want. If you abandon me, then I shall have no one. I won’t return to my parents unwed. They have betrayed me by forcing an ill man upon me. They have each other, and that will have to be enough for them, considering what they have done to me, their only daughter!! If you cannot feel good in your heart about being my husband, companion, lover, provider, confidant and best friend, then I would rather drown in the sea. I want nothing more than your love. If you won’t give it, then be gone from me. But know this, I am not returning to Paris to be forced into a wicked matrimony with a lustful, greedy, self-absorbed, pompous bastard. How could you even think to say these words to me? How could you tell me in one breath that you love me and then…” I looked away and began to cry. I quickly left the room unable to say one more word.
I walked downstairs and put on my jacket and shoes. I walked out the front door and didn’t say a word to anyone. Tears filled my eyes and flowed freely down my cheeks. I couldn’t see the faces of the people I passed on the street that I walked upon. I didn’t know where I was going or if I ever wanted to come back. How could I feel loved in one breath and abandoned in the next? It was as if the world spun upside down on me in an instant; the unimaginable happened in a flash.
Seeing Jean-Paul was nothing like what I expected. I imagined that all my fears would melt away when I saw him and he held me in his arms. Why would he tell me that my family was more important than us being together or more important than my happiness? Why would he even think of risking me being forced to marry Andre, the man who hurt him? I could not imagine what made him say such things. We were not communicating like two people in love. If I didn’t find a way back into Jean-Paul’s heart, then I had nothing.
I found myself turning a corner and walking on a different street. I didn’t notice the street sign, if there was one, but I noticed that people were gathered up ahead. There were two cafes mid-block, nearly side by side. I walked to the first one, wiped my tears away, and went inside. I quickly sat at the only empty table and turned my head from the crowded room. I could see out the window onto the street where people stood and talked as if this were a natural meeting place. I wondered about their conversation. Some of them arm in arm or face to face. Did they speak of families back home or obligations to loved ones?
A young waitress came to my table to take my order. I wanted a coffee, but in my haste I left without my pocketbook. “Hello. I am waiting for someone. May I wait to order until they arrive please?”
“Yes,” she said turning and walking away.
“Thank you,” I said loud enough so she could hear me.
I stared out the window and wondered why life was complicated. It didn’t seem as if love should be confusing. When I was with Jean-Paul it didn’t matter to me what we were doing, I was happy. When he spoke, I felt how sweet and sincere he was. I knew of his good heart from his words. He did kind things for me that Andre would not do. He asked if he could carry anything I had in my hands, he went far out of his way to see me, and he touched my hair and face as if he were looking at an angel. His strong legs, rich skin, broad shoulders and lean stomach drew me towards him like a magnet. I had to counter the force to pry myself away.
Our conversations were real and connected. He wanted to know what I was thinking. My opinions mattered to him. He said I fascinated him. What man would give up the woman he loves to keep her with her parents? Are my parents going to provide for me and make love to me for the rest of my life? NO! What is he thinking? Where was the man who couldn’t live without me?
The waitress looked over at me several times. I was afraid that any moment she would tell me that the tables were for paying customers only. I thought of how I might escape unnoticed, per
haps when her back was turned I could sneak out and wander the streets a bit longer. Eventually I may have to go back, to scream at Jean-Paul or to talk some sense into him. I looked at the door and planned my departure. As I stood, Monsieur walked in through the front door. He scanned the room and his eyes met mine.
“There you are,” he said to me. I didn’t respond other than with embarrassment on my face. “We were worried.”
“Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to…” I began to cry.
“It will be all right mademoiselle. You will see. Give Jean-Paul some time. He’s ill and possibly he was delusional while he was on the boat.”
“You know what he said to me?”
“Non.”
“He said that he must not take me from my family.”
“Jean-Paul is a man of honor. He feels that he must do the right thing, for everyone, even when it’s difficult.”
“Doesn’t he understand that I can’t return to Paris? I can’t marry Andre. I can’t. I won’t. Why won’t he just acknowledge that we belong together? My family made their decision.”
“You need to have this conversation with Jean-Paul,” Monsieur said.
“I don’t know if I could keep my composure. I am too upset to speak rationally right now.”
“You will feel more settled in a few hours. Decide what he must know and only share the most essential part. Speak from your heart.”
The waitress approached the table. “May I take your order now please?”
I looked at Monsieur and said, “I would like a coffee,” looking for his approval.
Painted with Love: Romance Eludes Time and Death Page 16