“But he didn’t want me?” Nico asked.
“Father paid him to stay away,” Mom said. “Five thousand dollars was all it took to get rid of him.”
Five thousand dollars to wash his hands of a baby no one wanted.
Sophie leaned forward. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin. “Tell us his name.”
His father reached for his martini. “His name was James Baylor. He went by Jimmy.”
“Do you have any idea where we might get information about him?” Sophie asked.
“It’s been thirty-four years,” Mom said, as if it were a stupid question.
“Did you ever plan on telling me?” asked Nico. “Why did you keep it from me?”
“We thought it would be better to leave it alone,” said his mother.
“Jimmy left for money,” Dad said. “We thought it would hurt you to know that.”
“You’re making us out to be the bad guy,” Mom said. “We were the ones who did the right thing. We never asked for this. But we did it without complaint.”
“Did it without complaint,” Nico said. “How good of you.” He’d been nothing but a burden to them. A responsibility they took on to save the family from scandal.
So many things made sense now. All the times he felt rejected. His mother’s coldness toward him but not Zander. Feeling as if he didn’t belong. The shame of being unwanted had clung to him like a second skin. He’d carried that shame into every moment of his life. Understanding, however, did nothing to ease his pain. Would the ache ever leave? Or did this kind of wound fester for the rest of his life?
“That’s not how I meant it,” Mom said, sounding impatient. “It wasn’t easy to change my life for a baby I didn’t ask for. I wasn’t ready.”
“Your mother’s family was always about their secrets. No matter the cost.” His father uncrossed his legs and looked to the ceiling before turning his gaze to Nico. “I know where your father is. He died twenty years ago. I’m sorry.”
His mother flinched, obviously surprised. “Derek, are you sure?”
“Over the years, I kept track of him.” Dad closed his eyes for a moment as a wave of pain crossed over his face. “I’m not proud of what we did. I was never sure it was the right thing to keep it from you. I worried that you’d discover the truth. If you did, I wanted you to know where he was.”
“Do you know how he died?” Nico asked.
“Car accident,” Dad said.
“Did he have a wife? Other children?” Sophie asked.
“The paper didn’t list any,” Dad said.
“I suppose that’s a disappointment to you,” Mom said.
Taken aback, Nico looked to his mother. “Why would you say that?”
“It’s obvious you would love to replace us,” Mom said.
“You just told me I was a burden to you,” Nico said. “Isn’t that what Zander’s always been? Your real family?”
They sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment or two. An urge to flee almost overwhelmed him, but he stayed put. This was the conversation they must have in order for him to understand who he really was. “Why didn’t they just offer me up for adoption?”
“That was my mother,” Mom said. “She couldn’t stand the thought that her grandchild would be raised outside of the family.”
Nico’s stomach turned as he imagined his fourteen-year-old mother. How scared she must’ve been. How ashamed. How misunderstood. Then he thought about the woman who raised him, the one who had given up so much of her life to take him in. He filled with a deep sadness, for all of them. He fought tears. “I’m sorry, Mom. I can see how unfair this was to you. But did you ever love me just little?” His voice broke. Despite his best intentions, the tears came.
“It was you who didn’t love us,” Mom said.
“That’s not true,” Nico said. “I loved you. I tried so hard to be good. It hurt to never be quite right. Nothing I did ever seemed to please you.”
“That’s ridiculous.” His mother’s grip on her martini glass seemed as if she might break it in half. “I didn’t understand you. It’s not the same thing.”
“It felt that way to me,” Nico said.
“We were kids ourselves when they asked us to take you,” Dad said. “We didn’t handle things as well as we should have. I see that now. We did the best we could with the resources we had. I’m sorry we didn’t do better. If I had it to do over again, I would make different choices. If I could go back…if I could see it then as I do now, through the lens of maturity, I would have acted like an adult, instead of a spoiled child. Sophie, your parents are right. You were a gift to them, just as you are to us, Nico. I thought about it a lot over the years—how different things might’ve been had I been supportive of your decision to study what you love. I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. My only excuse is that it seemed to be the final proof that I would never really be your father.”
“You are my father,” Nico said. “Forging my way alone made me the man I am today. You don’t need to carry that burden. I love my life. I’m proud of the life I’ve made.”
“You should be proud,” Dad said. “You’ve made it on your own without the help of anyone.” He paused, looking at the floor. “I wish you’d needed me just a little.”
“I have needed you, Dad. Just not in the ways you thought I did. I’ve wanted your approval all my life.”
“I’m saying it now. I’m proud of you. I love you. I’d love nothing more than to be part of your life again.”
“I’d like that too.” Nico swallowed a lump in his throat.
His mother shifted, looking uncomfortable. “I know I’ve been overcritical. I pushed too hard. I want too much from the people I love. I wanted you to be successful, so that my sacrifices were worth it. I’m sorry if my parenting hurt you.”
He supposed that was the closest he would ever get to hearing his mother’s confession that she loved him, despite all he had cost her.
“I’d like it if you’d stay for dinner,” Mom said. “We could answer more questions for you, if you wanted.”
He glanced at Sophie. She met his gaze and gave him a nod of approval.
After dinner, his father asked him to join him in the study. He left Sophie with his mother, who was telling her the details of the fire. Mom was asking questions like the criminal defense lawyer she was. Maybe they should put his mother on the case.
“Cigar?” Dad asked as he lifted the humidor.
“No, thanks. I don’t smoke.”
“I noticed you skipped the roast beef tonight as well.”
“I have high cholesterol,” Nico said.
“Well, you didn’t get that from me.”
They looked at each other and laughed.
“Too soon?” Dad asked as he closed the humidor without taking a cigar.
“Probably. Although, the only way to get through life is to laugh at the absurdity of most things.”
Burgundy-colored paint on the walls and mahogany furniture gave the room a serious, lawyerly vibe. His father’s diplomas, awards, and photographs with various important people hung on the walls. The slight smell of cigars lingered in the cushions of the leather chairs. When he was a child, Nico had been forbidden to come into this room. Now, standing here with his father, he felt as if he’d entered another life. An existence that had no connection to his current one but not to the past, either. A new chapter. One based on the truth, not lies.
“I have something for you,” Dad said. He walked over to a cabinet in the corner and pulled open a drawer. He rummaged around for a moment, then turned to face Nico. In his hand was a small box. “I never thought Addison was the right woman for you. I didn’t see the eventual outcome.” He chuckled. “No one saw that coming.”
“I certainly didn’t.”
“Now that I see you with Sophie, I can see it was for the best. Although it must’ve hurt like a son of a bitch.”
“No question. However, if I’d known Sophie was waiting for me
, I would have seen it as a blessing.”
“That’s the thing about life. You can’t see the reason why until it’s over. Looking back, you understand how it all fits together. How one thing leads to another. Or at least, that’s what they say.” He handed Nico the box. “This has been in my family for several generations. After meeting Sophie, it seems perfect for her. Open it. You’ll see what I mean.”
He lifted the lid. An antique wedding ring made of silver and three rather large diamonds glittered back at him. “You’re right. She’ll love this. She’s an old soul. So perfectly herself. I’ve never met someone as comfortable in their own skin. She lives her life exactly how she wants to with no apologies.”
“I can see that. Which makes her a good match for you.”
“Thank you, Dad. I can’t afford to get her a ring like this. Even though I wish I could.”
“Well, you don’t have to. You’ve done everything on your own. Let me do this for you. It’ll make me happy to give it to you.”
“What about Zander? Wouldn’t he want it for his bride?”
“I want you to have it.”
And in those words, that simple sentence, forgiveness and acceptance and everything he wanted from his father rained down on him. He wanted to give the ring to him.
“I accept. Thank you. Thank you for everything.”
“New chapter, though? One where I see you more?” Dad asked.
“Absolutely. You could come visit me sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
“We’re going to Paris in a few days. Sophie asked me if I’d kiss her on a bridge overlooking the Seine. With this ring, I’ll be able to ask her to marry me.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” His dad slapped him on the back. “You found a good one. She’s even charming your mother, which is no easy task.”
“That’s just the world according to Sophie. You’ll get used to it.”
22
Sophie
* * *
It was early morning when Sophie, Nico, and Judi landed at the Charles de Gaulle airport. Judi paid for first-class upgrades from both San Francisco to New York and New York to Paris. The seats were so comfortable that after a glass of wine, they’d all slept for a good portion of the seven-hour flight from New York to Paris.
Now, in the backseat of a taxi, sitting between Nico and Judi, Sophie clung to her purse as they made their way in stops and starts down the Paris streets toward central Paris where Judi had booked them two rooms at Hotel Villa D’Estrées. The cab driver rolled down his window to yell an obscenity at the car in front of them, then laid his hand on the horn for a few seconds. She assumed they were obscenities as the intent couldn’t be mistaken, given the hand gestures. Although she couldn’t imagine what the other car’s offense might have been. There seemed to be no rules on the Paris streets other than to be as aggressive as possible.
“Paris is crazy,” Nico whispered in her ear. “There’s no way I’m driving here.”
“Agreed,” she whispered back.
“I can’t believe I’m here with you,” he said. “This feels like a dream.”
On her other side, Judi sighed. “Paul and I had so many wonderful times here. You two have to promise me you’ll come again and again.”
“That’s a promise I’m willing to make,” Sophie said.
They crossed over the mighty Seine to the Right Bank, where they would stay in the sixth neighborhood, or arrondissement, as the French called them. The river was a dark green today. A whisper of clouds streaked the autumnal blue sky, shedding an ethereal light over Paris. As they passed over the bridge, Sophie pointed to Notre-Dame, which was under construction and surrounded by cranes and scaffolding. The first time she’d come had been before the fire. Fortunately, the cathedral didn’t go the way of The Oar.
The sidewalks were quiet this time of day. Parisians weren’t early risers. A woman on a bicycle wearing a cotton skirt and sandals pedaled past them. Baguettes stuck out of the bike’s basket. “I should get a bike to pedal around Cliffside Bay,” Sophie said. “I want one with a basket.”
“You really should,” Nico said.
“I can see it starting a trend,” Judi said, sounding happy. “I’ll buy you one for Christmas.”
They passed attractive cafés, not yet open. A woman in heels and a tight red dress ran in front of the car and into a bakery. Several workers swept the sidewalks in front of businesses. Another watered a flower basket that hung from the front of a bistro.
They lurched rather than turned down the skinny cobblestoned Rue Gît-le-Coeur and came to a halt in front of Hotel Villa D’Estrées. Sophie, slightly nauseous from the ride, stumbled out of the cab. Nico steadied her and gave her a quick kiss. “Welcome to Paris.”
Judi spun in a circle, giggling like a girl. “Isn’t this the best, y’all?”
“I adore this street,” Sophie said, as she breathed in the cool, crisp air.
The front of the hotel was painted black with large paneled windows. Sophie pulled her jacket closed as she peered down the quiet street. An apartment building was directly across from them with a very French-looking Café Latin next door. How she would have loved to peer inside the rooms of the apartments, but the shades were all drawn. Directly next door to the hotel was an Irish pub, of all things. She couldn’t seem to get away from bars.
The driver took their suitcases out of the trunk and grunted to them in French before heading toward the lobby doors. Nico grabbed the third bag. “After you, ladies.”
They walked through heavy doors into the colorful lobby. Unlike the sparseness of an American lobby, this space was filled to the brim in a complex combination of bright colors and ornate furniture. Tables with delicate carvings were paired with red, green, and yellow striped chairs. Heavy burgundy drapes hung in the windows. Every table had a fresh bouquet of lilies and roses. She sighed with pleasure as their scent mingled with that of coffee. At artfully arranged tables, guests dined on pastries, yogurt, and fruit. In the middle of the room, several men read newspapers while their younger cohorts looked at tablets or phones.
As tempting as the buttery croissants were, Sophie trudged up to the desk in the far corner where a young woman with a sleek brown hair and dark eyes worked on a laptop computer. Her name tag read “Collette.”
“Bonjour,” Collette said.
“Bonjour,” said Judi in perfect French. “We’re the Coventry party.”
Collette responded back in English with a hint of a French accent. “Welcome to Paris.”
After getting the rundown about breakfast and other housekeeping items, they were told to take the elevator up to the third floor. “We’ll send your luggage up straightaway,” Collette said.
Sophie wondered why they wouldn’t just take their own luggage up with them but didn’t want to ask. She understood when the elevator doors opened. There was barely room for the three of them. Nico had to bend his head slightly in order to fit. Luggage must come up a different elevator.
“The small elevators and bathrooms in Paris are compensated for the charm of everything else,” Judi said.
“When I was here last time, I walked into a bathroom and a man was in one of the stalls doing his business,” Sophie said. “A stall with no door.”
“The French are not nearly as uptight as we are,” Judi said. “And they’re much better dressers. Speaking of which, I’d like you two dressed for dinner. Not your usual shorts, Nico.”
Nico nodded good-naturedly. “Sophie made sure I brought clothes that look like my dad should be wearing them.”
They agreed to meet in the lobby at noon to find a café for lunch. Sophie let out a squeal of delight when she walked into their room. Decorated in black and white with yellow accents, the room had a king-size bed and two darling chairs arranged in front of a window. A small black desk had a writing pad and an orchid in a vase. She peeked her head into the bathroom to discover a deep bathtub with a handheld shower.
Nico grabbed he
r from behind and kissed her neck. “We can have some fun in there.”
“This sex thing is turning out to be just as fantastic as everyone said it would be.”
His hands lifted her skirt as he nibbled her ear. “We have time before lunch.”
She pressed her backside into him, feeling his arousal. She could recognize it now. What surprised her was how often it rose to attention. “Let’s take a shower first, and you’ve got a deal.”
His hands moved farther up her thighs. “How about we take one together, and I’ll show you a few of my shower moves.”
She shivered. Each time was a new lesson in ways Nico could make her scream. “Good idea.”
She woke a few hours later to the buzzing on her arm from the alarm. For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was until it all came back to her. She was in Paris. With Nico. She rolled over to see that he was still asleep. With one arm flung over his eyes, he didn’t stir. She would let him sleep a few more minutes.
Her phone beeped to tell her she had a message. Yawning, she grabbed it from the bedside table. There were two voice mail messages. One from her mother and the other from Zane.
She listened to her mother’s message first.
“Just making sure you got to Paris okay, honey. Send me a text if you get this message.”
Before she listened to Zane’s message, she texted her mother that she was doing fine and would send pictures in an email later.
With that sent, she listened to Zane’s message.
“Hey. I hope you arrived safely in Paris. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for acting so stupid lately. The fire really threw me. I want you to do whatever you want with the place. If you want to rebuild, do it. Or if you want to make it into another type of place, do that. Dad would be happy to see you there, carrying on where he left off. I’ll help you however you want, but the place should be yours now. I’ve got the brewery and the kids and Honor. When you get back, we can talk more about everything. Also, I’m sorry I was such a douche about Nico. He’s a good guy, and I’m just ridiculously overprotective. You should feel bad for Jubie. Okay, have fun in France. I love you.”
Jilted Page 22
