Of course, Pandora didn’t know this going into her visit. Her relationship with Jasper was conducted outside the purview of both their families, and so she’d never had the pleasure—if one could call it that—of meeting his father.
In a moment she’d reflect on the rest of her life, Cassius opened their discussion not by way of a customary greeting, but with, “You come to me carrying a grandchild, and expect my support?”
“I… I don’t know what to do,” she confessed in a slurry of self-consciousness. “My father wouldn’t understand.”
“No, I’d expect not. But I have low expectations for a man who vastly overestimates his own worth,” Cassius declared, then tastelessly offered her a glass of cognac.
“I’m pregnant!”
His smile turned sinister. “Not for long.”
“I came to you for help,” Pandora pushed on, mindful the outcome of this discussion had been decided long before her arrival. “I’m having the baby. Jasper’s baby.”
“My dear,” Cassius replied, his pointed features melting into something resembling a cartoon villain, “you’re very young and have a limited view of this world. Do you understand what will happen if you go forward with having this bastard child? You’ll throw your life away, becoming the very gutter trash we turn our heads from when we walk through the French Quarter. Your father will disown you. Jasper will renounce you, for if he doesn’t, I’ll cut him out of his fortune. You’ll have nothing. You’ll be nothing.”
“I’m not nothing,” Pandora insisted, jaw trembling, hands balled into tight, defiant fists at her side. “I’ll be more than you, and your limited world view, could ever imagine.”
Pandora went straight from that discussion into Jasper’s arms, letting the scent of his sandalwood cologne carry her to a place where none of her troubles mattered.
“You look beautiful today, Pan,” Jasper whispered against her temple, planting a kiss where his words tickled her moments before.
“You love me, don’t you, Jasper?”
He stopped his tender ministrations and looked at her squarely. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she lied. “I’m fine, just thinking of all we have ahead of us.”
“You can’t keep things from me. You’re upset,” he insisted gently.
“Paris is a long way out,” she professed, keeping the sum of her fears to herself, not yet ready to share her news or the admission of her earlier visit to his father. Fearful of confessing, she’d not yet decided if Jasper’s reaction would be favorable or otherwise.
“Paris is a few short months away! Everything we’ve talked about for almost four years, all our promises, are about to become reality. Pan, I love you. All of you. And if something is troubling you, you need only tell me and I’ll remedy it.”
Pandora listened to Jasper comfort her in his odd language, one she could only describe as something she’d expect to hear in the last century. Her love, this strange child-man, offering assuages without even an inkling of the complications she was bringing to their relationship.
The question was, whom did he love more?
Pandora, or his inheritance?
On the day Jasper requested she meet him down by the river, where he had news to share, Pandora found herself at the house of another one of his relatives.
Jasper’s aunt, Eugenia, was someone Jasper always spoke fondly of. A woman who encouraged his proclivities and embraced his personality, where in contrast, most of his relatives insisted he hide his eccentricities for the sake of character.
“Cassius is right, and wrong,” Eugenia explained, in exactly the gentle manner Pandora would have expected from a woman purportedly so kind. “Jasper loves you, dear. He’s told me about you many times over the years. A man does not wait as long as he did for a woman he doesn’t love.
“And he would turn his back on his fortune, I have no doubt. But the life you’d lead, one in shame, might eventually drive a wedge between the two of you. Some complications are greater than love.”
Pandora wrung her hands in her lap, near to tears. “What do I do, then?”
Eugenia poured her a cup of chamomile tea. “I’ve always believed in the power of fate. The rest of this family is, sadly, not as imaginative, but I’ve always held that if something is meant to be, the universe will conspire to make it happen.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m advising you to put my theory to the test, dear. Leave New Orleans. Go to The Sorbonne, as you’ve planned. I could find you a patron there, as I have many friends in Paris, but I believe you already have one waiting?”
Pandora nodded, swallowing.
“I’ll see to Jasper. He’s been accepted to Loyola, where he applied at his father’s urging, while waiting for word from The Sorbonne. His visions of life in Paris will vanish, at least for a time, with your departure.”
“You want me to follow our dreams without him?” Pandora started forward so fast her tea sloshed over the edges of the fine ceramic cup. “I could never do such a thing!”
“If I’m right, he will find you on his own, after enough time has passed. If he seeks you out, then I truly believe you can overcome anything.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Then your future together wasn’t meant to be. And you’ll have lived one of your two dreams, which I daresay is better than none.”
Pandora pulled tight at her thin jacket, her glance traveling between Eugenia and the door. “And if I stay?”
Eugenia dropped her gaze, her silence offered in place of an answer.
Pandora didn’t wait for graduation. She’d finished her coursework weeks ago. Waiting would dilute the rare courage surging through her veins.
She didn’t make her meeting with Jasper. Tears tickled her lids as she pictured his disappointment. This sentiment would fester over the weeks, she knew, potentially turning into something even darker. Something hateful.
But if she gave those thoughts credence, all was lost.
Pandora boarded a plane for Paris that night, with two bags’ worth of her most treasured belongings and a prayer to fate for Jasper’s eventual understanding.
III
Jasper waited until seven, an hour after he expected Pandora to meet him, before deciding she wasn’t coming. Then he sat in the same spot until midnight, puzzling over her defection.
Her recent mood swings, centering around some unspoken fear, played front and center in his speculation. She’d insisted nothing was troubling her, but too much added up to the contrary.
Further worrisome was her absence in classes over the next few days, something Jasper learned overhearing whispers from her classmates when they came to the Brother Martin library. The following week was finals, and she continued missing.
Jasper strongly contemplated breaking his rule to never call her house. He very nearly caved, but then Francis Prejean paid him a visit instead, demanding to know what sinister things Jasper had done with his daughter.
“The police will be over to ask questions,” Francis spat at the end of his raging soliloquy. “You won’t get away with this.”
Jasper’s heart sank clear to his feet. “You don’t know where she is, either?”
Francis snorted, shooting a disgusted sneer at Cassius, who had been watching from the background with subdued annoyance. “You will not get away with this! A plague on this house!”
“Did he just insult us with Shakespeare?” Cassius murmured, as the door slammed sufficiently to rattle Mom’s china.
The police did interview Jasper, but the gesture was routine. It was evident from their line of questioning they believed nothing ill had befallen Esther Prejean and that, in fact, their abiding theory was she’d run away from home.
Jasper felt some relief in the authorities’ confidence of her safety, but that same peace was dulled by the knowledge she’d also run… from him. If Pandora were running only from her father, Jasper would be at her side.
The weight of t
his realization hit him hard enough to bring him to his knees.
Had the past few years been for nothing? Could he really have been so blind as to think the love she professed was anything more than an amusement to her?
Jasper’s mind continued to race back to their week in Paris. Her delicate fingers charting down his torso, trailed by her even softer lips. Her smiles of ecstasy as she sat astride him, crying out to both him and God, in no particular order. The springs of their mattress accompanying her sounds of pleasure.
“No one ever marries their first love,” Cassius snipped, with all the sensitivity of a thousand stampeding elephants.
“Then I’ll never marry,” Jasper vowed.
Loyola was never Jasper’s choice. His father being long-time poker buddies with the dean, perfunctory application aside, Jasper’s place had been secured when he was still in diapers. A fantastic school, but it wasn’t Paris. It wasn’t studying under the patronage of Dr. Archimedes, side-by-side with the great love of his life.
But Jasper had enough practicality in him to accept that wallowing in his bed, writing melancholy sonnets, would solve nothing except to draw more ire from his father.
And so he slogged through his first year of college, knocking out his prerequisites in a haze of sadness and indifference. Fall turned to winter, and winter to spring, and when his heart didn’t mend the way everyone insisted it would, Jasper knew he must do something to chase his sadness away.
With this sentiment in mind, Jasper reached out to one Dr. Archimedes and asked if he might spend the summer in his patronage, if it was not too much trouble.
IV
Pandora Dauphin, previously Pandora Prejean, previously Esther Prejean, strolled along the Seine with a pink-and-white-striped parasol, a gift from her patron, Dr. Archibald Archimedes, Jr. They were her least favorite colors by far, but she had no alternative means to shelter herself from the already simmering Paris summer heat.
Her other hand held tight to a shopping bag, which she swung lightly with her steps, as she approached the townhome where she’d lived for the past ten months.
Madame Fitzroy opened the door before Pandora could search for her key. “There you are, ma chère! Monsieur Archimedes has been waiting for you in the drawing room.”
Pandora frowned, allowing Madame to take her things, inhaling the pleasing scent of freshly-baked midday scones. She made her way down the long hallway, heels softly tapping upon polished wood, toward the room Fitzroy had indicated.
Archibald sat before a roaring fire—so unnecessary in this heat, yet so like her patron—rocking the infant Leander back and forth in the chair she normally sat in.
“You’ve been gone half the afternoon,” he admonished. Leander cooed at his neck.
Pandora experienced a momentary burst of rage at the familiar way he held her son, but forced the emotion down. “Running errands. I picked up some new clothing for Lee. He’s growing too quickly.”
Archibald held the baby in the air before him. The boy giggled in delight at the faces made to amuse him. “He sure is. Isn’t that right, Lee? And what a proud papa I am.”
Pandora’s fists clenched at her side. She moved them behind her back. “Archie, we’ve talked about this. He’s not your son.”
“Yes, we have talked about this,” he replied back in the same singsong voice he used earlier with Leander, not bothering to look her direction. “I see no biological father here to claim him. Do you really want little Leander growing up without a daddy?”
She choked back the sigh forming; the sigh always forming in this household.
“You aren’t still holding out hope Jasper might come for you?” Archibald inquired, both brows raised in mock wonder.
“Of course not.” The words were a lie, one she learned to carefully craft early on in her tenure under this roof. If Archibald knew her heart, he might seek to keep Jasper from her. “He was a childhood love, that’s all.”
“Then I ask you, again, to reconsider my offer of marriage. I’d make a fine husband, Pandora. Both around town and in the marriage bed.”
Pandora repressed a cringe. While Archibald was indeed handsome—something that struck her immediately upon their first meeting—some of the more prevalent aspects of his personality always left her feeling dirty. A prey being stalked by her predator.
These discomforts were a small price to pay for learning under him, however. Her first year at The Sorbonne was filled with equal amounts of education occurring inside the school as outside, here in the doctor’s home. Knowing the knowledge she gained would help her and Jasper start their business, she held her tongue and continued to allow his solicitous remarks.
Yet her tolerance was also for Leander, her beautiful son, who resembled Jasper far more than her. A daily reminder of the decision she’d made, and the hope still burning in her heart.
“I’m only nineteen,” she demurred, as she always had. The best argument at her disposal, as all others fell short in his eyes. “I’d like to finish school before I start thinking of marriage.”
“A child needs a father.”
“Lee is too young to understand the absence,” she rebutted, lifting her son from his arms, ready to be done with the discussion. “Come on, let’s go try on your new outfits!”
Pandora hurried down the hall and up the stairs to her quarters, fully aware of Archibald’s scrutinizing eyes burning a hole in her back.
Safe in her room, Pandora laid Leander down in his bassinet, and opened her shopping bag. As she gazed at the contents, her earlier excitement faded. She could think of nothing except her ever-impatient patron downstairs, who would not continue taking no for an answer much longer.
Leander’s breathing quickly turned to light baby snores. Pandora planted a careful kiss on his rounded cheek, and then sat down at her letter desk. She slid a piece of paper out of the drawer, and pulled a pen from the holder.
Dearest Jasper,
Ten months have passed since I saw you last. Thirteen since we lay together in Paris and created a new life.
I miss you beyond words.
Leander is growing so fast! He smiles constantly. Such a happy little baby. My mother said I was a cranky infant myself. I wonder, does he get this sweet disposition from you?
Archibald has taught me so much. Yesterday, he let me hold and examine the archdruid skull, from the ancient druid line I told you about in my last letter. The Quinlans, as you may recall? He’s marked the things he’ll sell me when the time comes to open the museum. Sell us, that is, because I won’t do it without you.
I wonder often if I’ve been unfair, expecting you to find me. My life is filled with regrets, equal to the joys of discovering motherhood and the secrets of the life we planned together. I can’t go on like this much longer, though.
Jasper, please come.
Love for always,
Pan
Pandora carefully folded the letter in thirds, planting a kiss where the seal should be.
Then, she walked across the room and slid a mahogany box out from under her bed. Pandora was etched on the lid, lined with gold-leaf. A gift from Jasper who’d purchased the custom-made treasure from a small boutique woodworker along the Champs-Élysées. Pandora’s box, he’d said upon presentation to her. Should we open it?
With a light sigh, Pandora placed the letter inside, atop the dozens of other unsent correspondences compiled over her time here.
Reverently, she closed the box housing her hopes and fears, and watched the slow rise and fall of her son’s tiny chest, dreaming of what revelations tomorrow might bring.
V
In the waning afternoon, at a Paris sidewalk café chosen by his new benefactor, Jasper slurped his bouillabaisse while he listened to the sonorous voice of Dr. Archimedes, half-interested, and half-wondering if the man spoke merely out of love for the sound of his own voice.
Archibald finally drew in a deep breath, gazing down at his untouched foie gras. “I must say, I was surprised to hear
from you.”
Dabbing at his chin and lips with the cloth napkin, Jasper paused. “Oh?”
“I naturally assumed this was a dream you shared with your young love. What was her name… Penelope?”
“Pandora,” Jasper amended. “You’re right, it was a shared dream of ours. But both of us had a special love for the occult even before we met. Wherever Pan is, I hope she’s pursuing this love as well.”
“Yes, well, it’s awful sporting of you to wish her well. Often relationships don’t end so amiably,” Archibald said with an odd look. “Have you moved on, then?”
Jasper set his napkin aside, not keen on discussing his love life, or lack of one. “I’ve no time or interest in women right now.”
The doctor’s expression evolved, this time revealing a broad smile. “Good! Good, good. Women are an unnecessary distraction, I often say. Now, then, I have a small flat in Montmartre where you’re welcome to stay until you’re called back for your studies. I apologize, as lodgings go, it might not be to the standards you’re used to back home, but I have the room on lease for nights I stay in the atelier, which is no more than a five minute walk away. I’ll meet you there in the morning after I break my fast.”
Jasper was relieved to find he wouldn’t be staying with the doctor, though he couldn’t say exactly why. “That will be perfectly fine. I can’t thank you enough for welcoming me here.”
Their check came. An uncomfortable silence filled the space, as it became evident Archibald was waiting for Jasper to pay the bill. Jasper pulled the necessary cash from his billfold, and placed the money inside the leather folio.
The doctor stood. “I said I would live up to my father’s promises, did I not?”
Lagniappes Collection II Page 2