Days of Winter (48 page)

“Etienne, darling, thank you, but you have already given me … everything.” There were tears in her eyes as she kissed him.

All eyes were on them as Jean-Paul got up and poured himself a large brandy and gulped it down, then poured himself another.

Finally Henri became sleepy and, going to Etienne, he climbed on his lap, sucked his thumb and put his head against Etienne’s chest. Madeleine was called to take the child to bed. He kissed Etienne first, then his mother, his grandmother, the other children.

Then: “Kiss Uncle Jean-Paul,” Madame said.

For a moment he hesitated, then quickly obeyed, planting a small kiss on Jean-Paul’s cheek as he took Madeleine’s hand and said good-night.

As a finale, each of the children played a short piece on the piano. How grown up they were, Jeanette thought, remembering the day she had arrived.

When, on Etienne’s arm, she walked up the stairs to their room, she thought the day had been the most satisfying she had ever had in her life. Her life … yes, this was a true birthday. She had
really
been born. Reborn. At twenty-three.

On the fifteenth of July Jeanette and Etienne waved good-bye to the family from the window of their compartment on the train that would take them to Le Havre. There they would board the boat. The only moment she felt sad was when she saw Henri waving good-bye, and wished he were old enough to go with them. She already missed him.

She looked at Jean-Paul. How lonely he seemed. They hadn’t been together since shortly before her illness, and she wondered briefly how he had been managing. But only briefly.

When they reached Le Havre and boarded the ship, the excitement of boat whistles blaring, clouds of flying confetti, waving of handkerchiefs by friends and family that stood below was contagious and they joined the milling crowd at the rail, waving to no one in particular, calling out to anyone at all their delight It was a marvelous, magic moment.

Their suite on the boat was a sitting room, bedroom and bath, all spacious and well furnished. Jeanette went to the porthole and looked out at the soft blue sea, watching the white ripples of the water.

“Etienne, I’m so happy we came. It was a wonderful idea, and you are a wonderful man whom I happen to adore—”

He encircled her with his arms, her back to him as she still looked out the porthole. “Between the devil and the deep blue sea,” he said, and she turned, smiled and kissed him.

“Some devil,” she said, kissing him again … “and now, sir, what about that lovely champagne?”

Etienne bowed low, then uncorked the champagne, which had been chilled to perfection in a silver bucket “Here’s to both of us,” he said, touching his glass to hers. “To you and me, together … one …” He kissed her and quickly changed the mood with, “Now I want you to rest while I go up on deck and see the purser and make arrangements for the late dinner sitting.”

“All right, darling, but don’t be too long?”

“Wild horses and so forth … Now into bed with you, young lady.” He kissed her and left.

The first night out Jeanette, dressed in flowing white chiffon, wore her rubies for the first time, as well as the diamond bracelet and wedding band. Her shoes were ruby red, and she carried a tiny beaded bag of the same color. Etienne wore a tuxedo, and they complimented each other extravagantly; beaming at each other shamelessly as they waited for the elevator to take them to the main salon, where they sat at a table for two, not needing or wanting any other company. Etienne was immediately aware of how often other men turned their heads to admire her. Women looked, too, though their reasons for doing so were different. …

For Jeanette, there was only one man in the room. He was no longer lame. He was easily the handsomest man there. He was her husband, and she wanted to shout it out to everyone in that dining room, everyone in the whole world. …

Later that evening, lying in bed waiting for him to join her, she said tentatively, “Etienne? …”

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

“Well … please come closer, over here … yes, that’s better. …I’m afraid I have a confession to make—”

He smiled. “Well, that does sound pretty serious … please proceed, Madame, and I’ll try to be generous—”

“Etienne, be serious … this isn’t so easy. …”

“Sorry, darling, go ahead.”

She took hold of his hand. “When we were first married, I loved you as a kind and wonderful person. You reminded me very much of my father … but I thought … I thought I wasn’t
in
love with you.”

“I knew that.”

She looked startled, and then there were tears in her eyes. “And you still married me … knowing that?”

“Yes … and I would again.”

“Why … how could you want me as your wife if you knew I wasn’t in love with you?”

“Because … I loved you so much, it just didn’t matter. I would have been happy if you had never changed, but you have, and—”

“Yes, I’ve changed, but not as much as you think, or as I would have thought … I’m trying to say that I loved you more than I understood … even then … but I had to grow up, and with it grow into that love. …Do I make any sense, darling? …”

“The very best, from my point of view.”

“And, Etienne, it was
you
who helped me grow into that love for you … your kindness from the very first, and understanding. I knew I
liked
you so much, and that was the beginning. …And, please, Etienne, don’t
ever
think that I came to love you out of gratitude”—and when he started to protest, she shook her head and said, “no, please, let me say it so I’ll never have to say it again, or you ever have to think it. It happened long before that, just how or exactly when I’m not sure. I’m only sure that I love you more than I have ever loved anyone in my life, or ever will.”

“Jeanette, darling, what can I say except—”

“I should have told you all this before, a thousand times. … Etienne, I want another child so badly, we’ve tried so hard—”

“No—not after what you’ve been through, darling. It just isn’t necessary. You’ve already given me something I never believed I’d have, a son. I certainly don’t need other children. All I need or ever want in my life is you and Henri.”

Taking her in his arms, he kissed her, and she whispered, “Etienne, make love to me.”

“I want to, but are you well enough?”

“For you, I am strong. Please, darling,
please …
”

He did not keep her waiting.

The cruise was marvelous. At each port they bought presents for everyone. Whenever the ship docked, they ate at exotic restaurants, Spanish, Moroccan, Turkish, Greek, Italian, tasting dishes they’d never had before. It was a whole new adventure … and part of it was discovering themselves. …

The warm balmy nights aboard ship were as close to paradise as they ever expected to get. …Their days were filled with activities, but Jeanette especially enjoyed sitting on deck as Etienne read poetry aloud to her. She would close her eyes and listen to the resonance of his voice and relax in the pure pleasure of it. Of him.

“Etienne, I love your voice … aha, I have it,
that’s
when I must have fallen in love with you, the moment I heard your devastating voice that first day in the library. Do you remember? …”

“I’ll never forget … and I also think you’re crazy. Did you, by the way, hear me sing? Better be careful.”

She laughed and reached over and hugged him.

And then, as though it were only yesterday that they’d come aboard at Le Havre, the trip was over and they were debarking at Le Havre.

When the Paris Express came haltingly to a stop, they were met by the entire family. And dinner that night was very festive indeed. On top of their joy at returning home, they were celebrating their anniversary.

As Jeanette was dressing for the party, Madame came in to see her.

“I can hardly believe you’re the same Jeanette that you were three months ago. …”

“Oh,
maman,
I never had such a good time. A
good time.
Do you understand what I mean? Etienne was such a joy.”

“I think that Etienne is walking on the clouds. He looks like a man who’s just come back from his first honeymoon.”

Jeanette took her mother-in-law’s hand. “You are a very wise woman,
maman.
”

“And what makes me so wise?”

“Remember what you told me that day in Provence?”

“You mean the day I proposed to you?” She laughed.

“You told me that out of respect love can grow.”

“Oh, did I say that? Well, I agree, I am indeed a wise old woman, especially if my brilliant, lovely daughter-in-law says so.”

“Joke if you like,
maman,
but the fact is I have fallen madly in love with your son. My husband.”

The older woman put her arms around Jeanette. “Thank you, thank you for talking to me this way, and I no longer joke. I also remember something you said.”

“What?”

“That you would make Etienne a good and devoted wife. And this you’ve done before everything else. But knowing that you’re in love with him as well makes my life complete. …Now finish dressing or I shall cry, which would be silly since this is a party,” and she hurried out of the room.

Jeanette stood quietly for a moment, allowing herself to savor the special feeling of pleasure and contentment left with her after her talk with
maman.
Her look was drawn to the four-poster bed. From now on, it and she would belong only to Etienne. Jean-Paul would never invade their privacy again.

Deciding that was easier than facing the prospect of telling him in person, but she’d made up her mind she had to do it. When the roadster stopped in front of the apartment building which had been their place of rendezvous for three years, Jeanette hesitated before getting out. She straightened her shoulders, got out of the car and walked up the stairs.

Jean-Paul knew at once that he was meeting a different Jeanette. The expression on her face seemed to confirm his worst fears. He felt it, he knew it. He had, finally, lost her.

“Come in,” he said. “After all, we’re not exactly strangers.”

His tone surprised her. She wasn’t certain what it meant

“Sit down. Take off your coat … it’s warm…I don’t want you to catch cold. …Especially since you look so healthy and radiant after your cruise. I’m sure it must have been marvelous, a fine tonic, just the thing to recuperate by. …”

“Yes, it was, Jean-Paul.”

“Of
course
it was. I’ve never seen you look more glowing. In fact, you’ve filled out so, one would think perhaps you might even be just slightly pregnant. Now, wouldn’t that be jolly? Etienne a father for the second time, and this time no problems. No guilt. No Jean-Paul.
Are
you pregnant?”

His voice terrified her. She tried to relax, to compose herself. This was not the way she had rehearsed it

“I take it silence means no. Very diplomatic. …Well, whatever, I must say you certainly look different. And now, my love, suppose you tell me just what this new you
is
all about.”

Jeanette was trembling. She didn’t know how or where to begin. How did she tell the man she’d once thought she loved, without question the man she’d been obsessed with, that the obsession was over? The man whose child she had borne?

She took a deep breath. “Jean-Paul, I would like to discuss this like two civilized people—”

He began to laugh. But there was no humor in the laughter. He had heard those words before, but they had been spoken by him to the several ladies he’d been obliged to deprive of his attentions. He didn’t at all care for the situation being reversed.

“Jean-Paul,” she began again, “during my illness I had a good deal of time to think. I found myself taking a hard look at my life—”

“And what, my love, were your findings?”

“I didn’t like what I saw. I suppose I never did, but I was careful not to look too closely, for my own selfish reasons that I could somehow usually justify to myself. …”

“And now … why are you looking so closely now?”

“I was a schoolgirl when I met you, Jean-Paul. I was also a very bitter young person. I was entitled, I felt, to anything, everything.”

“And now?”

She didn’t want to cry if she could help it. She also wouldn’t discuss Etienne if she could possibly help it.

“I discovered I couldn’t go on living the way I had been. How can I explain it, Jean-Paul? You intrigued me, fascinated me. I was innocent but in a way I wasn’t. My feelings were close to the surface. You knew what to do with them. …Please, Jean-Paul, I’m not blaming you … much more myself. …But I do know that what I felt wasn’t love. I think you know it, too—”

“We had a child,” he shouted. “We had a child. You’ve conveniently forgotten, it seems, who the father is.” He was deep into his third glass of brandy.

“No, I haven’t and it was seeing what I thought was your genuine pain at not being able to claim your son, to have his love, that made me understand I’m not the only one who has been hurt, but, Jean-Paul, you must accept it, his father is Etienne, and cruel as that is for you—”

“That crippled little bastard couldn’t be the father of anything—”

“You’re wrong, Jean-Paul. Etienne may walk with a limp, but I assure you he’s less crippled than you … or I.”

“Why, you pitiful little slut, how dare you? I picked you up from nowhere, a damned nobody. I made you respectable, a
lady
…”
He shook his head and finished the brandy. “You could hardly wait to take what I gave you every time you came here. …But I gave you much more—I gave you a home and a child with a name. My God, you should be in the gutter where you belong.” He wanted to choke her, kill her. …

“You really gave me nothing. You only had me believing that. You used me,
and
your mother, by conniving to hurt Etienne, whom you’ve always despised. Clothilde told me how you tried to drown him. I didn’t believe it then, but I believe it now. She told me that sooner or later you destroy everything you touch. Your wife is in an institution because of you—”

And now all his restraint was gone. “Suppose your crippled husband knew that Henri isn’t his. What do you suppose he would do? I’ll tell you. He’d throw you out, which is exactly what you deserve. God knows you don’t deserve to have the name Dupré!”