“Thank you for taking me here Jean-Paul. This is magnificent. Where did you learn this history?”
“One of my new buyers of tea is a colonel who lives here. He gave me a little tour and the history. He showed me that this is the best viewing point to see the Pacific and told me when to look for whales migrating through.” These words comforted him some, because his voice lightened up slightly and he almost seemed happy.
“Maybe you could paint it Jean-Paul, and send it back to Europe. Your eyes and paint strokes would show others the unique beauty of this massive water. I wish we could live on this bluff, and look at this sea every day.” I tried to cheer him with my joy, and hide my fear of Andre. More than anything, I wanted him to promise me that we were safe.
Jean-Paul studied me as I looked out to sea.
“Will you take me here again Jean-Paul? I will make us a lovely picnic and we shall sit here together for hours and you can bring your pens or your paints. Please, Jean-Paul?”
“Of course, anything you wish.” His promise lacked his usual enthusiasm, but I knew he meant it.
Jean-Paul and I reached home just before dark. “Cherie,” Jean-Paul said with seriousness, “Let’s make a baby tonight.”
I smiled and felt happy he wanted me.
Jean-Paul picked me up in his arms roughly, as if saving me from a burning building. He quickly carried me into our small bedroom and tossed me on the bed roughly. He stood looking at me for a moment, while I studied his expression. His face was concentrated. I didn’t know if his thoughts were on conception or Andre’s letter. Vigorously he unbuttoned my blouse and began kissing my neck and breasts with firm, short kisses. His intent was focused and determined, yet emotionally distant. I didn’t know if I wanted to make a baby with him so absent. If I asked him to stop, it could upset him further. With reluctance, I gave into his will, wondering what drove it forward.
As he penetrated me, he stared into my eyes. He released his semen quickly and watched my face. I felt that he was communicating to me that his semen was impregnating my womb at that moment and his will would make it so.
He watched me for a full minute after his release. Then he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. It felt as if he had left the house. I felt alone. Inside of me, big emotions stirred. It wasn’t clear to me how to interpret the pain in my heart or the tightening in my throat. I wanted to sob, but not in front of Jean-Paul. There were no words to comfort us. Once again Andre had come between me and my love.
Two months later, the signs were certain. A child was conceived in our disconnected lovemaking. I wrote a letter to my mother and father to share news.
Dearest Mother and Father,
I’m pleased to share with you that I’m pregnant. I feel well and the baby should come before early next year. I look forward to bringing the child home to Paris to meet his wonderful grandparents.
The San Francisco Bay area is perfectly lovely. You would enjoy it here. In many ways it reminds me of Paris, although it's encumbered with hills and steep roadways. Walking around the city requires much effort.
I wish I could see you both. I have no idea how to be a Mother myself. Does it come naturally? What can you tell me? Will I be a good Mother? I want nothing more than to bear Jean-Paul’s children and to be a good wife. My life feels complete. Sometimes I wonder if it's really fair. Do I deserve to be this happy?
I love you always Mother and Father.
From my heart, Cherie”
I waited patiently for my mother's reply. When the letter came, I nearly cried while trying to open it. Then I read with tear filled eyes.
My dearest Cherie,
Your letter arrived today and my heart leapt from the sight of it. Then when I began to read it and I learned that you’re with child, my initial joy turned to exuberance. Tears are flowing as I try to see the paper and pen to write to you. My heart is bursting with love for you and with happiness for us all. I shall be a grandmother.
My life has been beautiful and full of love. However, the most spectacular joy I could imagine to have before I go home to our Lord, is to be a grandmother. You and Jean-Paul have given me the greatest gift.
I pray that you will be back in Paris while the child is very young and I may teach the baby the same songs that I taught to you. I wish to help with the child and bounce it on my knee. We can all go on outings to the park. I shall begin gathering things we will need at the house for the little one.
I shall write you a full letter on the best foods to consume and best practices to preserve the wellbeing of the child. I wish I were with you. For now, I will wait anxiously for your letters.
I miss you. You have missed much activity in Paris. I wish you and Jean-Paul could have delayed your departure just a year. The World’s Fair is changing many things about this city. With the influence of countries from all over the globe, Frenchmen are opening their minds a little to the possibilities that the French don’t know everything. There are two new museums built for the Fair filled with art from all over the world. If only Jean-Paul’s art could be displayed among the paintings by extraordinary men from America and China. The three new train stations are complete as well as a spectacular new bridge. You saw them working on it before you left but you should see it now. It looks more like a work of art than a bridge. They are calling it Pont AlexAndre III. Your father and I went to the Musee d’Orsay. It is beautiful with glass ceilings. I imagined Jean-Paul’s work displayed in the main hall.
We also attended many of the Olympic Games. One can scarcely get around Paris from all of the extra travelers who have come to watch the competition. The French are touting that because it is the year 1900 the Olympics will be the biggest ever. The turn of the century brings such excitement with it! Your father took me to see the first women tennis players in the Olympics. Then he took me to see the first women Olympic golf players. I found the golf rather difficult to enjoy because we stood at one place and watched different players hit the ball from the same place. We didn’t get to follow the players around the course as I would have liked. It was exciting to see women participate. Your father said that he wanted you to know that you could do great things, just as these women were doing. He also said he expected much of you. I wish you could have been there. Many of the events were poorly scheduled causing low attendance. The organizers had difficultly notifying players when they were scheduled to compete. Some athletes missed their events due to inaccurate and incomplete information. But I had a marvelous time.
Marion told Martine that Andre moved to America. She also said that he still loves you. Perhaps it is the childhood love that never dies. I hope that he doesn’t try to interfere in your marriage. Your father and I treasure Jean-Paul.
I fear for your wellbeing constantly. It doesn’t seem safe to me to have you so far from home. Please be careful. Mother’s intuition is very strong, and mine says caution. Keep sending your letters, Cherie. My love and heart are with you.
All my love,
Mother
**
Chapter Sixteen: It isn’t Fair
San Francisco, November, 1901
Pregnancy and childbirth were not easy without my mother close-by. I missed asking her questions and having her help with my new baby boy, Little Jean. I wrote to her often and gleaned as much knowledge as I could. I wanted to show her our son as soon as possible. His big eyes and round face were just what my mother would love.
Being a mother filled me with joy each day; nursing, singing, rocking and loving my baby. I threw myself into the task full heartedly. I felt important to two men, one little and one big. I had everything that I could imagine, except for my parents.
Instead of having my mother near me, I had my new best friend, Juliette. We became inseparable. I leaned on her like the big sister that I never had. She always seemed wiser and knew what to do. I would have felt lost without her. She was also from Paris. Her aunt and uncle moved to the area to run a hotel that they bought from another family membe
r. Juliette loved to visit them often. She invited me on several occasions to join them, and I always declined. On one cold November night, when her husband George could not accompany her, she begged me to come with her. Jean-Paul insisted that I go, despite our terrible fight hours earlier after the mail arrived. He assured me that he would care for our son at home and welcomed the evening at home with Little Jean. Reluctantly I left the house with Juliette, and headed for the pier in the foggy night.
Juliette and I walked aboard the San Rafael just moments before she slowly pulled away from the dock fully loaded with passengers to cross the bay from San Francisco to Sausalito on November 30, 1901. The San Rafael had a great reputation as one of the last great steamboats built with her hull design. I read about her in the San Francisco Call Newspaper which reported that she was, “by far the prettiest boat that ever cleft the waters of San Francisco Bay.” I hadn’t been on a ferryboat before, but I agreed that she was beautiful and magnificent.
This was my first trip across the bay and my first time back on a boat since I was terribly ill coming across the Atlantic. I watched the passengers curiously as they stirred about the fanciest boat to glide across the cold, dark bay. The ferry moved smoothly, as if without effort. Juliette grabbed my hand. “Come here, Cherie. Look at the fog. I’ve never seen it this dense.”
“How can the captain know where we are going?”
“It’s always foggy in the bay. The captain knows what he’s doing. We are perfectly safe. Thank you for coming with me to see my aunt and uncle.”
“I’m excited to meet your relatives. You’re lucky to have family near you. I wish I could see my parents. I miss them terribly. I want them to meet my baby.”
“I would enjoy visiting my aunt and uncle more often. It makes me feel at home. My uncle loves to talk with my husband. He will be disappointed to learn that George had a labor meeting tonight. I wish Jean-Paul would have come to entertain him.”
“He decided last minute not to join us. I almost didn’t come as well, because Jean-Paul and I had a terrible fight tonight.”
“What about?”
“I received another letter from Andre. He proclaimed his love again. I haven’t responded to his letters and I don’t know how to make him stop. He’s upsetting Jean-Paul more and more. He’s trying to build a wedge between us. I think it is working.”
“Is that why Jean-Paul decided not to come tonight?”
“Yes,” I said sadly.
“And he wanted Little Jean to stay home as well?”
“Yes, because of the cold night,” I replied with my head bowed.
“What did the letter say?” Juliette asked in a quiet voice.
“The same stuff he has said before. He says that he still loves me. That God designed for us to be together. I made the wrong choice, but he will forgive me one day. He always ends by saying that we will be together one day.”
“Don’t worry. Your love with Jean-Paul is strong enough to survive this. Let it pass. Tonight you’re here with me. Isn’t that enough? You shall see your handsome family soon and kiss away Jean-Paul’s anger.” Juliette teased me playfully with a hint of exaggeration in her voice.
“Oh Juliette, I love being here with you. I won’t let Andre spoil this night for us. I’m delighted that we’ve been in this exciting city together for this past year. I’ve enjoyed the holidays and celebrations together. I don’t know how I could have survived it without you.”
“I feel the same about you.” We each smiled. “How’s Jean-Paul’s artwork going?”
“Jean-Paul is more distant lately. Perhaps it’s because he only gets to focus a few hours a week on his art. I want him to get to do what he loves and not have to work such long days. He comes home drained of all strength. I can never get enough of him. I miss him. Maybe he’s falling out of love with me. Maybe Andre’s letters are coming between us.”
“You’re over reacting, Cherie. Settle yourself down.”
I took a deep breath. “Thank you for inviting me tonight Juliette. This is just what I needed. Did you know that I was terrified of ships until I sailed across an ocean? After sailing on a large vessel three times, I found them to be much safer than I thought.”
We stared into the dense, misty fog. Leaning against the rail, I enjoyed the wind rushing by my face, whipping my hair in un-patterned waves. “Isn’t it haunting? I can’t see a thing.”
A young child laughed nearby. Several children played near their parents. I turned to see an older sibling teasing a baby to make the child smile. I pictured Jean-Paul and me walking hand in hand on a ferry with our new little boy in tow.
“Cherie,” a voice said as a hand came down on my left forearm. Chills sent shockwaves up my spine which exploded in my head. Andre’s voice registered, and my whole body tightened.
“Don’t look so worried,” he said turning me around. “Are you not pleased to see me?” he said with a sly smile. “I have a few questions for you, since you have not responded to my letters.” He looked at Juliette who stared in shock. “I need to borrow your friend for a moment. I will bring her back.” He pulled on my arm which he held tightly. “Come, Cherie, I must speak with you. Don’t you think you owe me that?”
I was ready to face Andre and tell him directly to stop writing to me and upsetting my family. I yanked my arm from his grasp and looked firmly in his eyes. “Yes, I wish to have a few words with you as well.”
We walked down narrow steps into the well-appointed dining room below deck. Several people were enjoying dinner and others were sipping warm drinks. He selected a table at the far end of the room and we each sat down.
“You look good. Motherhood agrees with you.”
A sense of shock drew me back.
Andre noticed my face and replied, “Yes. I heard. Don’t worry. If your husband is not able to take care of you, through death or for some other reason, I will provide for you and your son.”
Again I stared in disbelief.
Andre replied, “Are you surprised that I would be so generous and still love you with another man’s offspring? You will soon understand that my love for you will never die. I’m a patient man…and I don’t give up a good fight.” He paused and stared at me. “Are you going to say anything?”
"How did you find me here?" I demanded.
"You are adorable when you pretend to be strong. I just want to swoop you in my arms."
I shot him an evil look. "How did you find me?"
"It was easy my dear, I followed you here. You look good tonight, but I like the green lacy dress you usually wear to the market." He smiled. "I've been waiting for a moment alone to speak with you, since you don't answer my letters."
“Andre, your constant threat and lurking around are deplorable. You’re inconsiderate and selfish. I’m a happily married woman. Leave me be.”
“Happy are you? Are you sure that your husband is happy? He communicated by letter with family in Paris. He doesn’t always express happiness. You know that if I don’t do it, God will surely punish him for stealing the woman who belonged to me.”
I thought for a moment. Jean-Paul writes to Jacques and Martine and occasionally he writes to Marion. Marion is still feeding information to Andre. That is how he knew our address and about our baby.
“My affairs are none of your business. Go back to Paris and leave me alone!” I was firm. It felt great to confront Andre.
“You don’t understand, but you will. I will not be going back to Paris…as long as you are married to Jean-Paul.” Andre stared at me with a coy smile.
I glared back in disgust. “I want you out of my life Andre, for good. I’m married. I don’t love…”
A loud explosion cut off my words. I flew out of my chair and smashed into a metal pole behind me. I fell to the floor dizzy with blackness veiling my eyes.
For moments I lie in shock unaware if what caused the loud blast. I tried to sit up and noticed my balance falter. Passengers around me started to panic and scream. I felt
swishing in my head and gravity pulling me sideways. I looked for Andre, but I couldn’t see him. People were moving everywhere.
“Get off the boat,” A man shouted, but it sounded like a dream. I was dazed, confused and could not move my body.
I looked again for Andre. He was walking about the room bleeding with his right ear dangling from his head. He was shouting things that didn’t register to me, as he walked in a circle. Finally he saw me and walked straight towards me.
“There you are Cherish.” Andre said. The boat tipped, or perhaps my head just felt a tipping, I couldn’t be sure. The floor quickly filled with water. My body slid across the wet carpet.
I heard screaming and shouting. “The boat is sinking fast!” said a man. “Get up on deck. Lifeboats! Get in the lifeboats!” People were pushing and shoving to get up the narrow staircase to the deck.
The large ferry began to tilt. I slid with passengers across the floor and we piled on top of each other. Water continued to fill the dining room. I finally focused my eyes. What I saw didn’t make sense. Something had ripped the hull open to the cold San Francisco Bay.
I touched my head and felt a bump, but I didn’t feel any pain. I became more disoriented and confused. “Ships are safe.”
“Oh Cherish. Everything happens for a reason. We could leave this boat and sneak off together, and no one would know if we were dead or alive. You see, where’s your husband now? It’s me who saved you at your wedding. I must save you again!” Andre stood above me with water sloshing above his ankles, bleeding from where his ear once was attached. He walked as if he were drunk, faltering in the deepening water. He reached his hands to help me. I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of helping me, but I knew that I needed help. I reached for his hands. Moving forward, I felt my head swirl as if I floated in a rough sea. My eyes would not focus. I closed my eyes and felt panic. With my eyes closed I tried to stand.
Painted with Love: Romance Eludes Time and Death Page 21
