The Frenchman's Slow Seduction (19 page)

“I won’t stop loving
you,” he says. “It doesn’t happen to everyone. It depends on who
you are. My parents are still in love after forty years.”

“I’m sorry, Jean Paul,
but I can’t. Don’t ask me to do it. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He kisses me. “It’s
okay, Rachel. You’re right. It doesn’t mean anything. We’ll just be
together.”

Later that day, I
officially accept the job with Lou Ann and Joe, and Jean Paul and I
move my things to his apartment.

Two weeks later, as
Jean Paul and I are eating breakfast in the kitchen, I decide that
the time has come to tie up loose ends.

“I have to go back to
Michigan to take care of a few things,” I tell him.

“May I come?”

“It’ll just be for a
few days. I think it’d be better if I went alone.”

“When would you
go?”

“In a couple of
weeks.”

Taking my hands, he
says, “I have always been waiting for you, Rachel, and I will
always be here.”

After breakfast, when we go fo
r a walk in a nearby park, Jean Paul goes
back to the car for something he has forgotten. Looking at him, I
have the sudden fear that he’s not real.

Later in the week, I
buy my plane ticket for Lansing. I’ve decided to go back home for a
week; any longer would place too big a burden on Joe and Lou Ann.
As soon as I have my ticket, I phone Michelle to tell her my flight
details.

“Can you phone Mike for
me?” I ask her. “I’d like to go to the clinic the morning after I
get in to pick up some stuff.”

“Are you sure you’ve
straightened out the Mike thing, Rachel?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I called him the
last time, I got the impression he thought you two might get back
together.”

“No way. I made it
perfectly clear.”

I don’t tell Michelle
about Jean Paul or my move. I want to see her in person to tell her
my big news.

On the day of my
departure, Jean Paul brings me to the airport. When my flight is
called, he walks with me to the security gate. Hugging me, he says,
“Rachel, please do not leave me for too long; I fear I may not be
able to breathe while you are gone.”

It’s a beautiful, sunny
day for traveling through air and clouds. Twenty minutes into the
flight, I fall asleep and dream of Nathaniel. I’m six, and I’m
holding his hand as we walk in the woods towards a stream. At the
water’s edge, he lifts me into his arms, walks to the center of the
stream, and tries to place me on a rock that is sticking out of the
water. Afraid, I hold on tightly to his neck and wrap my legs
around him. He loosens my grip, places me on the rock, and then
quickly walks away. Not wanting to be left alone, I jump off the
rock and fall into the water; the current drags me under the
water’s surface. When I realize that Nathaniel isn’t going to
rescue me, I swim and crawl to the stream’s edge, and he gives me
his hand. Looking up at him, I say, “Why didn’t you help me?” With
a soft look, he answers, “Because I knew you could do it on your
own.”

Chapter 24

When I walk out of the
baggage collection room, Michelle rushes to hug me.

“You look great, Rach.
Geez, I didn’t think you were ever coming back.” She places her
hands on my shoulders. “Rachel, I’ve got news.” Her smile is
radiant. “Grant and me, we’re back together.” Jumping around in a
circle, she twirls me with her.

I drop my bags and give
her the biggest bear hug ever.

“Oh, Michelle, I’ve
never been so happy for anyone in my whole life as I am right
now.”

“I know. Isn’t it
great? Oh, Rach, when we make love, we really make love. It’s not
just sex. A few years ago, I went to the bathroom in my hotel room
late one night, and I heard the couple next door making love. The
woman was moaning every time the man went inside her. I was
mesmerized. I thought it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.
Now, when Grant makes love to me, I feel like that woman.” She puts
an arm around me. “Come on. Let’s get your bags to the car. You’re
coming to my place, right?”

In the car, she asks
about my trip. I tell her everything about Texas, but nothing about
Jean Paul or my move.

At her place, Michelle
takes care of me, installing me on her sofa. “I’ll get us some
drinks and munchies,” she says.

Why can’t I take a deep
breath?

When Michelle gets
back, I notice the engagement ring on her finger.

“He kept it all these
years. Can you believe it? I love him, Rach. He wants to get
married right away, and I’m all for it.”

“Congratulations,
Michelle. You’re a different person.”

She laughs. “Grant’s
living in New York, but he’s moving here as soon as he can. He’s in
town now, but he’s out visiting. He’ll be back at six. Tell me
you’ll stay for dinner.”

I smile. “Of course
I’ll stay. I’m dying to meet him.”

She fills me in on
what’s been happening since I’ve been away. “Bryan went through a
really bad few weeks, but he looks better now. I hope this won’t
bother you, Rachel. He’s dating someone. Sheena Paul. Do you know
her?”

I smile. “She was one
of the cadets taking the self-defence course. You could say she and
I are kindred spirits. It’s okay, Michelle. I’m happy for him.”
Steeling myself, I say, “I’ve found someone, Michelle.”

After a few seconds,
she gives me a brilliant smile. “You’ve been with him for two
months, and you’re going back.”

I’ve always admired how
quick Michelle is to catch on to things. With my secret now out in
the open, I tell her about my Texas plans.

“Geez, Rach, you know
I’m happy as anything for you, but I hate the thought of you being
so far away.”

“I know. I’ve been
thinking the same thing.”

“Oh well,” she says,
“that’s what planes are for, right?” We look at each other,
unconvinced.

At five o’clock, I tell
Michelle that I have a couple of errands to run but that I’ll be
back around six.

When I get back to
Michelle’s apartment, Grant answers the door using special
crutches. I can’t believe how handsome he is. He’s over six feet
tall, has gorgeous blonde curly hair and is wearing faded jeans
with a dark green plaid shirt. I liked Grant before I met him, but
I like him even more after. His face becomes radiant when he looks
at Michelle.

Hanging out in the
kitchen, we cook, eat, drink, and talk. If there were a male
Michelle, it would have to be Grant. He’s wisecracking, fun-loving,
and above all, kind. As often as he can, he touches Michelle as if
to reassure himself that she’s really there. When he disappears
down the hallway to get a photograph, Michelle’s eyes follow him
out of the room. She’s so obviously happy that I feel a sharp pang
of guilt for not having realized just how unhappy she had been. As
if she’s read my mind, she says, “Everything’s going to be okay
now, Rach. The past doesn’t matter anymore.”

With childlike
innocence, Michelle is fully able to forget the past and move
blissfully unencumbered into the future, and I, like a starving
person, feast on her words. There have been many times in my life
when I reached a spiritual dead end and could not think of anything
any god could give me to help me forget my past. Salvation comes in
the form of Michelle’s innocently spoken words: when you’re happy,
the past doesn’t matter anymore. And gone are the bonds of my
fettered past.

Earlier in the day,
after going through the security gate at the Texas airport, I
looked back at Jean Paul and was overtaken by a troubling thought:
Could I forget my past enough to give this man the life he
deserves? And the answer is
yes.
A thousand times yes.

Just after ten o’clock,
Michelle drops me off at my apartment. “Call me first thing in the
morning,” she says.

I head straight to
Myra’s place.

“I’ve missed you
something awful,” she says, hugging me. “Come in. Tell me all about
it.”

I feed her details,
while she feeds me muffins.

“Oh, Rachel, I’m so
happy for you. Jean Paul sounds perfect.”

When she sees me
wilting, she says, “Oh dear. Time for bed. We’ll catch up tomorrow,
when you’ve had some sleep.”

On the way to my
apartment, I feel a shiver go up my spine. Unlocking the door, I
catch a glimpse of someone walking down the corridor. When I get a
proper look at him, I know I’m in trouble. His fists and his teeth
are clenched. Dropping my bags, I rush to get into my apartment and
lock the door, but I’m too late; he’s pushing on the door. Running
like hell, I head towards the dining room, throwing a lamp on the
floor to slow him down. But there’s no need to rush. Taking his
time, he locks the door and walks towards me. I’m on the far side
of the dining room table.

Suddenly, I understand
everything. “You broke into the clinic,” I say.

“Why shouldn’t I mess
up your life, like you messed up mine?” he says in a deliberate and
slow manner. He’s not making any moves towards me.

“What did I do?” I ask.
“I was never anything but nice to you.”

He gives a mirthless
laugh. “Is that what you call fucking up someone’s life?”

I shake my head. “But I
didn’t fuck up anything. Think about what you’re doing. It’s not
going to help anything.”

“Isn’t it? I think it
will.” He pulls out a hunting knife.

I can’t believe what’s
happening.
“Please,”
I beg him. “I’ll fix things.”

He walks towards the
table.

“Tell me what you
want,” I say to him.

“I wanted you to leave
my family alone, but you just wouldn’t take the hint. Now I want
you out of our lives for good.”

When he climbs onto a
chair, I run to one end of the table. But he lunges at me and
knocks me to the floor, making me hit my head on a chair. There’s
blood everywhere. Terrified, I let out a loud scream. He’s hurt and
the knife has slipped from his hand. As I scramble to my feet, he
grapples for my legs. I kick the knife across the room and run to
the front door. As I’m unlocking the door he grabs me by the
shoulders, shoves me against the wall, and then pushes his thumbs
into my throat. Using all my strength, I ram a palm upwards and
into his nose. He cries out and releases his grip on my throat.
Freed, I knee him in the stomach, and he bends over. Clenching my
hands together, I raise them high and bring them down with all my
force across his back. He loses his balance and falls to the floor,
but he’s blocking the door. Faint, I run back into the dining room.
Slowly, he gets up and staggers towards me. He’s covered in blood,
which is pouring from his nose.

“You bitch, you’re
going to pay for that,” he says. “You’re all the same. You’re all
out to get what you want, no matter what happens to the men.”

As my mind is racing to
find a way out, I hear Mike’s voice. “Gordon? What’s going on? What
are you doing, son? Oh my God, Rachel. Gordon, what are you
doing?”

When Gordon looks at
his father, he becomes lost.

“Come here, Gordon,”
Mike says, approaching his son. “We’ll work it out. It’ll be okay.
Come here.”

Seeing my chance to get
away, I run out of the apartment to Myra’s place and bang on her
door. Almost instantly, she opens it, and I rush in.

“Rachel, oh my
goodness, what’s happened?” she asks.

“Call the police and
call for an ambulance, Myra. It’s Gordon, Mike’s son. He attacked
me in my apartment. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Mike’s with
him.”

Myra helps me to a
chair. Having the sudden sick feeling that I’m going to pass out, I
say, “No medications, Myra.”

“What?”

Grabbing her hands and
looking into her eyes, I say, “Myra, you’ve got to tell them no
medications. I think I’m pregnant.” Then I fall into darkness.

Chapter 25

I’m very sore, and when
I try to open my eyes, only one of them opens.

“
Rachel!”
I hear
Michelle say. Now she’s standing over me. “It’s alright, Rachel.
You’re at the hospital and you’re going to be alright.”
Conspiratorially, she adds, “I’ve told them that Jean Paul’s your
husband so things’ll be easier. You know, so they don’t have to
call your family, okay?” I’m trying to nod when things go black
again.

The next thing I hear
is a man’s loud voice nearby. Neither of my eyes wants to open.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Baker. Are
you the husband?”

“Yes,” I hear someone
say. It’s Jean Paul.

“We think she’s going
to be fine. She’s had a nasty concussion, but we’re hopeful things
won’t get worse. I understand she came to for a few minutes.”

“Yes,” Michelle
answers.

“That’s good. We’ll
keep a close eye on her.” There’s some paper rustling. “Oh, yes.
Rest assured, we’re not doing anything that would harm the
baby.”

“Pardon?” Jean Paul
asks.

“We’ve confirmed the
pregnancy, and we’re taking the proper precautions. I understand
that she thought she was pregnant and had some concerns.”

“Yes,” Michelle
answers, “she was worried.”

Just as I’m thinking,
“God help me,” somebody takes my hand. A voice says, “Come walk
with me,” and I do.

The next thing I’m
aware of is sun and something on my arm.

“That’s more like it,”
a woman says. “Figures, I just sent your husband away and you wake
up. Oh, well, it’ll give us a chance to clean you up.” It’s the
nurse.

“My head really
hurts.”

“I know. It’s going to
be sore for a while. I’ll give you something for it.”

“I can’t move my right
leg.”

“Don’t worry, honey.
Things’ll get better over the next few days. Just give it some
time.”

After sponging my face
and arms, she gives me a shot of medication in the behind. As she
leaves the room, Michelle walks in.