by Jo Maeder
She phoned her parents. There was no answer. She called Liliane. Her reaction was, “Why do you not sound so excited?”
“I don’t?”
“No.”
Alyce searched for an answer. Liliane gave it to her. “Perhaps you feel it is too soon. You want to be married first. And it is your first. I was terrified when I found out I was carrying Stéphane.”
“I won’t disagree.”
“And with all you are marrying into, well, it is easier to terminate these matters in France than in America. I can send you to my doctor who will give you a pill.”
“Liliane,” she said sternly. “I couldn’t even kill baby rodents.”
“I cannot be the judge of how you view this. Some would say it is not a child yet.” Alyce heard someone come into Liliane’s office. Speaking in code, she said, “I must go, but let me add not to get too excited about this until it is a certainty. Trust me, I know.”
Yes, Alyce thought, a lot can go wrong in the first trimester. She would be very careful who she told right now.
She fed milk to her furry babies that had grown considerably since she found them. They now drank from a bowl instead of an eyedropper.
It was time to say goodbye.
Better to do it before Nelson and company arrived. They were probably safer in the woods than in the clutches of that bratty kid.
She headed into the kitchen in the main house to get the suede bag that held Jean-Luc’s gun. If she met wild boars once, she could meet them again. He was starting to make espresso. She told him what she was doing as she pulled out the gun to make sure it was locked.
“Where is my notebook?” he asked. “It was in there before.”
“I don’t know. It must have fallen out when I went up that tree. I’ll look for it while I’m out there.”
“I’ll go with you. I need a break. But first, have some coffee.”
“I shouldn’t drink that if I’m pregnant.”
“That is nonsense. But as you wish.” He stopped what he was doing.
“Are you sure you want to be part of my letting them go? Won’t it…”
“I encounter reminders every day. I have learned to cope.”
He offered to carry the ventilated box containing the dormice.
“No, I’ll do it,” she said. “I want to stay close to them as long as possible.”
“I understand.”
They passed Isabella, who was painting while viewing the vista of overgrown, unkempt grapevines in the distance. What was on her canvas didn’t look anything like the view. Instead it was cleared with rows of vines, green rolling hills, the maison clean and in the open. Alyce noticed a photograph taped to the bottom of the easel.
“I’m inspired by this photo of the way it was when it was a working vineyard, while observing the natural light now,” she said. “See what you have to look forward to?”
“It’s beautiful, Isabella. If Nelson doesn’t want to buy it, I will.”
She smiled then looked at the box in her hands. “What is that?”
“I’m releasing the loirs.”
“Ah,” she turned back to her painting, “at last.”
Alyce had never thought about what it must be like to make a living as a painter until she met Isabella. It certainly wasn’t easy. As she glanced down at the box she was carrying, she reminded herself why she had forgiven Isabella for murdering the loirs’ mother.
The babies had given her comfort when she needed it most.
As they walked on, he said, “They’re big enough now to live on the ground. I’ll find just the right spot.” He stopped at the rabbit hutch that was missing a door. “Wait, this is perfect. It’s low enough so they can get in and out, and they will have some protection.”
“Some? I want complete protection. Can’t a wild animal or bird get in here?”
She realized what she’d said when she saw Jean-Luc’s sad face.
“You cannot give them complete protection, Al-ees. Ever.”
Together they made a nest of twigs and leaves inside the hutch. She’d brought a bag with pieces of apple, shelled hazelnuts and sunflower seeds, and laid them out inside, as well. She also brought a small plastic tub and filled it with water from a bottle. In another she put milk.
Her heart was heavy as a concrete brick as she placed each one inside. They darted around, unsure how to react to so much space. Two went for the food, another for the nest.
The last one sat on its haunches and stared at her as if to say “You’re deserting us?”
Jean-Luc put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She blew kisses to them, walked away, and blubbered.
Jean-Luc rubbed her back with his warm hands as they embraced. In a small voice she said, “I have nothing to cry about. They’re back in nature where they belong.”
“And you can check on them every day until you have your own baby.”
She stopped hugging him and grabbed his arm. “Please don’t make any mention to Nelson that I’m pregnant. And ask Isabella to do the same.” His searching look caused her to say, “I’m waiting for the right time to tell him in person.”
“I would consider waiting until the troublemaking boy has gone.”
That wasn’t a bad idea, thought Alyce, though she couldn’t wait to see Carmelita’s face when she heard about it.
They walked on, looking for Jean-Luc’s notebook. She said it was near the headstone. He knew exactly where that was.
“We’re getting close,” he said.
She looked for the tree she’d climbed. Jean-Luc was about 10 feet in front of her when she thought she saw it. She had been more focused that day on being mauled by a wild pig than where she was. She looked around the trunk. There it was. Some water damage had seeped into the notebook’s pages but they were still readable.
She was about to call out to him but saw that he was standing still, head bowed, hand over his heart, chest heaving as he silently sobbed.
Her chest tightened. How do you ever get over losing a child?
She didn’t mean to read his notebook, but as she tried to carefully un-stick the pages she couldn’t help seeing: Yeesh.
She flipped through it, glancing up to see if Jean-Luc was watching her.
Solde/sold
Twat
Birds bouncing off the screens. Boing.
Bring it on!
Pygmalion. Is that a disease?
Kisses from a bashful child
Destiny thing
She felt like an insect that had been pinned to a board at a science museum.
She looked again in his direction. He was staring her down.
She clasped the notebook to her chest as he walked toward her.
“I know what you must be feeling,” he said calmly. “That I have been using you for material this whole time.”
She felt her face flush with embarrassment. “Nelson said you would write about us and it wouldn’t be pretty.”
“Al-ees.” He held out his hand for the notebook.
She began ripping out pages.
“Stop!” He tried to wrest it from her. She crouched down so he couldn’t get it. “Those notes go back years! Very few are about you and I quit writing when I realized—”
She scattered the torn pieces to the wind.
He held up his hands. “I don’t have it in me to fight about this.”
In her fit of anger and raging hormones she’d forgotten that he’d just been standing at Colette’s grave. Her actions seemed as juvenile as anything he had ever done. She handed him the notebook.
“Sorry. I overreacted.”
“I quit making notes about you and I wasn’t sure why. It was Raymond who deduced I was in love with you.”
She felt terrible now. Also flattered.
Even more so, confused.
She gathered up as many pieces of paper as she could and shoved them into the suede bag. “I’ll put them back together.” She had to add, “Even the pages about me.”
He h
alf-smiled. “There is nothing about you I will ever forget.”
30
The Devil and His Paycheck
When she told Nelson about releasing the babies she did not mention Jean-Luc’s notebook. She was starting to understand the way an artist views life, starting to appreciate it, too. What would the world be like without them? Jean-Luc should be free to write whatever he wanted, just as Isabella was free to paint whatever she wanted. She remembered what he’d said the night Julien came to dinner, about how writers are scavengers and how hard it was to take from people he loved.
She needed something to calm her nerves—a drink at least—to brace her for the impending clustier fouquoi, but she wouldn’t indulge in her condition, even though Liliane said it was fine to have a glass of wine with dinner.
Jean-Luc said, “You are a beautiful fecund wreck.”
“Remember, you and Isabella aren’t supposed to know about the fecund part.”
Glorianna and Luther were ensconced at the Hôtel Marlaison, Nelson was in the cottage with her, and Jean-Luc and Isabella were barely speaking to each other. Not because they were mad. They were lost in their creative worlds.
Carmelita and Junior were to arrive in two days. At first Nelson was coming with them. Glorianna said in an email: Nelson traveling on his own, now that you’re engaged, is the proper way to handle this.
It seemed pretty Old School thinking to Alyce, but showed that her future mother-in-law was on her side. She needed all the reinforcements she could get.
Then the pre-nup arrived at her lawyer’s.
Diandra Solomon, who Alyce’s sister had recommended, called from New York as Alyce was pulling into the parking lot of the supermarché. She took out a pen and notepad.
Her lawyer’s first words were, “It’s not bad, but there are some strong strings attached.”
The good news was the quarter million dollar “signing bonus” Alyce would get after their honeymoon that made every hair follicle on her head stand at attention.
“You must be joking.”
“Wait until you hear the rest.”
If they stayed married until the kids were out of the house and then decided to divorce, she would receive $2,000,000. “That’s approximately $100,000 a year if it lasts 20, with no adjustment for inflation. All your expenses will be paid during the marriage, but unless you stash money away and invest wisely, that won’t give you jack toward a similar lifestyle. There’s also a morals clause that has to go.”
Did the car just tilt sideways?
“As for the property in France, your name is not going on the deed now because it’s being bought by a family LLC.”
“What’s that?”
“Limited liability company. Once you’re married, you’ll be family, so then you’ll be a co-owner. I’ve looked that contract over carefully and you will always be entitled to 25% no matter how big the defined family gets. If it decreases, your share grows. For example, if Mr. and Mrs. Mansfield die, you and Nelson own it 50/50. I think that’s fair.
“You’re dealing with a family who views marriage as a business partnership. The less romantic you are about it, the better. Look at this as an employment contract a high-level executive signs when joining a corporation. The payout, if you part ways, is the golden parachute.”
She strongly urged Alyce not to sign it without requesting certain changes. “They’ll respect you,” she said. “But you can’t be too demanding either. It’s delicate.”
Diandra shifted her all-business tone to a friendlier one when she asked, “Alyce, do you love Nelson?”
She’d carried a torch for him for so long, she answered without thinking, “Yes, but…”
“But?”
Alyce tried to put what she was thinking into words. “I’m no wheeler-dealer. It’s hard for me to relate to this.”
“Keep reminding yourself it’s nothing personal. And don’t think this is written in stone. I do post-nups all the time. Once you pop out a baby or two, you can renegotiate—especially if they’re male.”
“Actually, I’m pregnant now.”
“Congratulations! Do you know the gender?”
“No. I’m not that far along. Nelson doesn’t know. I’m waiting for the right moment to tell him.”
“Don’t wait too long. That’s quite a bargaining chip if we get stuck on something.”
“Use a baby as a bargaining chip?”
“Like I said, don’t take it personally.”
How much more personal could you get than to have someone’s child?
With only $2,071.58 in her savings account, Alyce was staggered by the wealth she would acquire once they married.
She called her parents. They were thrilled about another grandchild coming, even her “hold off” mom. She shared the news about the pre-nup.
Her father said, “Be careful, Ally. The devil often comes with the biggest paycheck. Don’t ever tell Chantilly this. Yours is more generous than hers.”
That made her feel good until she wondered why.
Her mother, on an extension line, cut in. “Okay you two, stop looking for the black lining in the clouds, not the silver. I think it shows that the family knows what you’ve agreed to put up with regarding You-know-who and their child, and that you mean more. That’s what matters.”
Alyce walked into the market, dazed. She forgot half the things she was supposed to buy.
When she returned home, Nelson was waiting for her. He instantly sensed a shift.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“I just talked to my lawyer about the pre-nup.”
He nervously ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t talk about this, Ally. My parents are the ones with the money, not me. After what happened with Carmelita, they’re insisting on this. Let’s keep it between our lawyers, otherwise it’ll kill the romance. Everything will be fine. I just want to be with you and our children forever.”
She couldn’t keep it from him any longer after he said that. “Guess what, honey? You’re going to be a father again a lot sooner than you thought.”
She expected him to be thrilled.
“You’re pregnant already?” He moved away.
Hurt by his reaction, not to mention feeling like she’d made some stupid tactical error, she moved back too. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
He came over to her, trying to stroke her hair. She stopped his hand.
“I was in shock. This is wonderful news.” He seemed to be forcing himself to ramp up his excitement. “Wonderful! But we shouldn’t let the cat out of the bag yet.”
“Why not? I’d think Glorianna would break into a tap dance.”
“Let’s wait until Junior and his mother leave. He’s been behaving badly lately, as you know. Let’s give him time to adjust to the idea of a stepmother first.”
Even though Jean-Luc had made the same suggestion, that burning rage she felt whenever they entered the picture surged forth. She barely managed to bite her tongue.
“Okay. But what about your mother? Why wouldn’t you want her to know?”
“Of course I’ll tell her. I just need to time it right.”
He rested his hands on her shoulders. “I know my mother when she’s had a few drinks. She’ll blurt out something to Carmelita and it’ll get vicious. Junior is trouble enough these days. We’ll tell Mother after they’re gone.” He smiled. “Then we’ll start talking about the wedding. Is four months from now too soon?”
Alyce agreed to his plan.
On the morning of the closing on Jean-Luc’s property, Nelson watched Alyce from the bed as she raced around to get ready for class. She bent at the waist and flipped her head over to brush her hair out nice and full.
In a tone that was pleasant, but left no room for discussion, he said, “I’d like to move into the Hôtel Marlaison when you finish school today.”
She flipped back up, her hair standing out in all directions. “Why?”
“It’s time to sever ties with this gu
y, Ally. It’s business now.”
“I’d rather not pack up everything if I’m going to be moving back in.”
“Take what you need for a month,” he said. “He has to be out by then.”
She stood another moment before realizing how ridiculous she looked. She patted her hair down and started packing. She thought about Jean-Luc’s health. A move was a lot of work. He would need help. Her voice of reason said: He’ll have plenty of money from the sale to hire it. And he has Isabella.
When she was set to go, Nelson stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I know you and Jean-Luc are close, but some friendships aren’t meant to last.”
“I can’t even be friends with him?”
His grip tightened. “You’ll be so busy fixing this place up and making new friends, it’s best if he’s not around to distract you.”
“Aren’t we going to be fixing the place up?”
He did his nervous hair brushing with his hand again. “I can’t quit my job the moment I take ownership. I have to hire the right people, make it a viable concern. I figured you’d be the intermediary during that time.” He looked at her tummy. “So much for schedules, right? But don’t worry. I’ll be here in nine months. You have my word.”
The idea of being a pregnant newlywed and not with Nelson full time hadn’t entered her mind. Before she could say “Let’s talk about this,” his phone rang. She could hear every word Carmelita was screaming.
“He lost his passport! What if he gets his identity stolen? How are we going to fly?”
Nelson closed his eyes and was probably counting to 10. When he opened them, he said to Alyce, “Have fun at class today. You can see what I’ll be dealing with.”
How much she would be dealing with was going through her own mind.
31
Property and Promises
Liliane closed the door when Alyce entered and invited her to sit in the same chair where she had been told she was getting the boot from her previous hosts.