by Taisha Demay
She chuckled. “You, my dear husband, have nothing to be jealous about,” she assured him.
They returned to Charles De Gaule two days later and drove straight to their apartment, which was every bit as welcoming as April remembered. She didn’t see Jean-Luc until dinner because he was busy dealing with issues at the bakery. When he did come home he looked tired, and almost drained, she thought as she studied him across the table.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to return to the bakery,” he informed her. “Oh, and before I forget, I’ve got something for you. A belated wedding present, which isn’t quite ready yet.”
“Hmm, sounds interesting. Do I get a hint?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“You’re no fun,” she said, pouting.
Chuckling, Jean-Luc leaned over and kissed her soundly on the lips. “Relax, Mrs. Reneau. I promise you’re going to be pleasantly surprised.” Standing, he reached in his pocket and removed an envelope, handing it to her.
April opened it curiously, wondering what on earth it could be. He’d said it was ‘a wedding present.’ She gasped in surprise as she slid the papers from the envelope, looking up at him her brow furrowed. “It’s a house,” she said slowly at last. “The one you took me to last month… But, Jean-Luc, you said you weren’t sure it was still available.”
“I saw the way you looked at it,” he said simply, “and this apartment is no place to bring up a family. The legal formalities for the house will be completed by the end of the week.
If you don’t feel up to it, hire a firm of interior decorators.”
“Oh no!” she protested. “I think I’d rather do it myself, really, Jean-Luc,” she said slowly. “Sure, it’ll take longer; but hopefully we’ll have it completed before the baby’s first birthday,” April told him, touching her stomach. “But I have every confidence that it will be.”
“Are you sure, I mean it’s a lot of work?”
She could see the concern in his eyes. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll enlist the help of a decorating firm but nothing gets done without my approval; how about that?”
He breathed a sigh of relief, his broad shoulders relaxing. “Much better. I’d better get a move on, or the repairman will think I’m not coming.” Kissing her soundly on the lips, he turned and walked out.
Leaning back in her chair, April released a weary sigh, before standing and clearing off the table.
Since hiring a manager to handle the day-to-day operations, April spent time at the house and oversaw the remodeling of their new home.
“This is going to be lovely,” Madeline enthused, gazing around the nearly finished front room.
“There’s still tons more to do, but I agree, it is coming along nicely.”
The house was by no means finished, but she had done as she intended for the moment. The decorator was very accommodating to her suggestions and seemed to be both surprised and pleased that her client actually had good taste. With the baby’s birth barely a month away, she knew it would be foolish to overdo it.
“When do you actually move in?” Madeline asked once they were back downstairs, drinking mugs of herbal tea in the attractive state-of-the-art kitchen that April had completely gutted and re-fitted with the appliances Jean-Luc requested. The carpenter understood and appreciated her desire to combine the best of everything that was modern with a design that would complement the exposed beams and brickwork of the kitchen. The effects were all April hoped for. The kitchen was supremely functional, and yet, had all the warmth and charm she wanted.
“Soon, I hope,” April told her. “I’ve been driving from here to the apartment for weeks, and now that the bedroom, the kitchen and this room are completed, there’s nothing to stop us from moving in. Although, I suspect Jean-Luc wants it totally done before that will happen.”
“Have you spoken to Adrian?”
“Not lately. I understand from his assistant he’s doing as well as can be. The oncologist started him on a new treatment. I understand it’s new and could quite possibly prolong his life. So, we’ll see what happens.”
Her mouth compressed, thinking about how Jean-Luc still remained aloof when it came to his uncle. She had naively assumed when he agreed to let the man give her away at their wedding, things would get better between them; she had been mistaken.
No wonder when she mentioned paying him a visit, he’d come up with excuses not to.
It saddened her that they were still somewhat estranged. Now, with the work on the house nearly completed, she wondered what he would say if she invited Adrian to their housewarming party?
The master bedroom was enormous. A huge four-poster oak bed dominated the space. Off the bedroom were a walk-in closet and a large bathroom. Their room was connected to the baby’s nursery decorated with the warmth and charm of a children’s storybook illustration, right down to the huge teddy bear sitting on the rocking chair.
“I’m thrilled the two of you are settling into married life, and things are going great,” Madeline remarked. “For a minute, I figured my nephew would remain a bachelor until he was an old man. It looks like I was wrong.”
“Yeah. Surprisingly, I agree with you.” Never in a million years did she ever think she’d be married and expecting a baby all in the span of a year.
“I’m throwing a Christmas party; I want you and Jean-Luc to come. Everyone who's anybody will be there.”
“I’d love to,” April replied. “But, I’d better clear it with Jean-Luc; he may have other plans.”
“Nonsense! If I know my nephew, he’ll want to be there,” Madeline assured her.
“Just let us know the date for sure and hopefully we can attend. But, I’m not making any promises.”
Jean-Luc got home just as April had. She had taken advantage of the good weather and went out to get some last-minute things for the baby. The cloth diapers she’d ordered were delivered the day before; she’d rinsed and dried them and then folded them.
“How’s the house coming along?” he asked, after kissing her soundly on the lips.
“Great. You should come by and see it. What do you intend to do with this place?” she wondered when he joined her on the couch.
“Nothing for the time being.”
This surprised her, she figured he’d made arrangements to find a tenant and rent it out.
“Mrs. Dubois will keep an eye on it for me, and then after the baby’s born we’ll decide what to do with it.”
“You mean, you’re planning to keep it as someplace to stay in case you’re working late and can’t make it out to the house?”
“That’s an idea. I hadn’t considered that,” he replied. “Besides, it’s close to the time for you to give birth; I think we’ll stay here for the time being until you’re strong enough to move around.”
“If that’s what you’re worried about, we can always hire a full-time nurse?”
“No, we’re going to stay here while you recover and then relocate to the house,” he told her before, standing and leaving the room.
“Wow,” was all April could say, shocked by his chipped tone.
Two weeks later, while she was hanging curtains, April felt the first contraction, Madeline who was with her noticed.
“April, are you alright?”
“It was just a twinge, a false alarm probably. I should probably sit down.”
Madeline assisted her to the chair, but before she got there, she felt another pain.
“I think we need to get you to the hospital.”
She winced. “I think you’re right.”
On the way there, April tried to remember everything she learned during her Lamaze classes, monitoring her breathing and trying not to be overcome with anxiety when she realized how much closer together the pains were coming. Finally, an hour later they walked into the hospital and a nurse assisted her into a wheelchair.
“Come along, Mrs. Reneau; everything is going to be fine,” Nurse Caroline said encouragingly. “Let’s g
et you settled into a room and monitor those contractions.”
“Someone, call my husband,” she said in between the pain.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get him here,” Madeline assured her. “Just concentrate on having this baby.” Removing her cell phone, she dialed Jean-Luc’s number.
Once she was undressed and helped with a gown and into bed, they hooked her up to a fetal monitor.
“You’ve got time before the baby comes, just relax, and I’ll be right back to check on you,” a nurse told her.
“That’s easy for you to say; you’re not the one in pain,” April told her between breaths.
“Don’t push yet, Mrs. Reneau,” she heard someone saying to her and the person added. “She’s in distress.”
“How’s the heartbeat?” she heard another ask, and suddenly, she was consumed with fear, both for herself and her baby. April heard someone crying, and it wasn’t until she saw Madeline’s anxious face that she realized who it was.
“Jean-Luc, where is he?” she gasped trying to fight the tide of pain.
“He’s on his way,” Madeline assured her, then there was more pain and desolation until suddenly, she was aware of warm fingers curling around her hand, giving her strength and tenderness in the hand that wiped the sweat from her face. She opened her eyes. Jean-Luc’s green ones, stricken with fear and anguish, looked back at her, immediately realizing he was wearing a mask and gown.
“I’m glad you made it,” she managed between breaths.
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he told her.
“Alright, Mrs. Reneau,” she heard the doctor say, as they wheeled her from the room and into the hallway. “Let's bring this baby into the world. Just keep helping her…”
It was over, and she had done it. April gazed at the perfect sweet face of her son, who wailed until the nurse placed him against her body. April reached out to touch him, amazed how beautiful he was and how his eyes seem to recognize her.
“We did it, cheri,” she heard Jean-Luc say.
“We’ve got to get your wife and son settled into their room,” the nurse told Jean-Luc, interrupting them.
“He’s just beautiful; let me hold my great-nephew,” Madeline said.
April handed her son, Maurice Antoine Reneau who was named after his late grandfather to Madeline.
They had yet to move into their new home, her husband insisting that there was plenty of time, Jean-Luc wanted her to get stronger before doing so.
“I can’t believe I gave birth to a nine-pound baby,” April said, amazed.
“Large babies run in our family,” the older woman told her. “Jean-Luc was as well, so it’s no surprise that his son is.”
“I had a feeling it would be this way,” she replied.
“Speaking of his father, where’s Jean-Luc?”
“He’s at the bakery, but promised he wouldn’t be there long.”
“How are things going between the two of you?”
“Watching someone give birth, can be a traumatic thing for both parents. Sometimes men have different reactions than a woman; they don’t realize how tough the female body actually is. He’s being overly cautious because he’s scared.”
She hadn’t thought of how witnessing the birth of his son may have affected Jean-Luc,
it just never occurred to her how hard it was to see her in so much pain. Which was the reason he was treating her like she would break, hiring a nurse to help with the care of their son.
On Saturday, while she was feeding Maurice, she heard the door open and shut. She was recovering nicely, nearly getting her figure back, her stomach was flattening. Sitting in the rocking chair, glancing down at her son’s small head with its sprinkling of dark blond hair like his father’s, gazing down at him, she smiled as he sucked on her breast.
Crying when she lifted him against her, firmly patting his back in order to release the gas in his tiny stomach. It wasn’t long before her husband appeared.
“You’re home awfully early, is everything alright?” she asked, placing the baby back inside his crib, then righted her blouse.
“Things were under control, they didn’t really need me, so I decided to come home to my family,” he explained, before kissing her soundly on the lips. Then focusing on their son, who looked so much like him, he reached in so that the tiny hand could grip his finger. “I can’t believe how much he’s grown since we brought him home.”
“It’s the benefits of breastfeeding, I would imagine,” she told him as they exited the nursery. “If you’re hungry, I could make you something.”
Jean-Luc made a face. “That’s not what I’m hungry for,” he said, before pulling her into his arms and claiming her lips in a heated, passionate kiss. “You know how much I love you, Mrs. Reneau?”
“Yes, and I love you too,” she whispered, reaching up touching the buttons on his shirt, looking up at him, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “You know, the doctor says it’s alright to resume sexual activities…” She didn’t get the rest of the words out before he lifted her up into his arms and carried her into their bedroom, April’s laughter echoing through the air.
The look in his eyes reminded her of how much she truly loved this man and how so much had happened in her life leading up to this moment. Some good and some bad, but she would never trade any of it for the world. It led her to the man who would make all her dreams come true.
The End
About the Author
“Author Taisha Demay website: NewYorkCityGirl.org
Contact information: [email protected]”