Gently, she pushes open the French doors and walks outside, her bare feet on the artificial turf covering the ground.
“Simon?” she says. “Simon. I know I’ve done a very selfish thing. But please believe me, I wasn’t well. I could only focus on one thing at a time, and I chose to immerse myself in the only thing I had left. I know you won’t be able to forgive me. I’m okay with leaving. Let me take my stuff and leave.”
“I’m straddling the line between gratitude and irrational fury,” he starts out. “We have made a life, Tess! It fills me with such joy. But I’m angry about the years that have gone by, wasted by pride and false assumptions.”
Without another word, he places the book on the small round table, extends his arm and offers her his hand. His knuckles are swollen, there’s a small cut right above one of them. She cradles his hand in hers and kisses every knuckle, each bump, each groove. She wants her tears to wash away the blood, the anguish.
He pulls her to him, lifts her by the waist and places her on top of his lap. She’s straddling him. They are face to face.
“I should have come for you. I wasted time. I wasted three years.”
“I don’t think I would’ve been ready,” she whispers. “Jacob had overtaken everything.”
“What’s her name?” he asks. She tenderly wipes the tears from his eyes, sweeps her thumbs over his cheeks.
“Ciela Aurora Fremont.”
“Heaven. You didn’t forget.” His face is a confluence of tears and smiles. “She has my last name?”
“Yes.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“She looks just like you,” Tessa says proudly, tracing her fingers along his chin. “She has this dimple right here, like yours. And guess what her favorite thing to do is?”
“Follow her mother around?” he smiles weakly.
“Jigsaw puzzles. She can do thousand-piece puzzles by herself.”
“Wow.”
“But she still can’t talk very much. The therapist says she’s so intelligent, her brain moves faster than her mouth.”
“What?” he says, chuckling. “When is her birthday?”
“August 2nd.” Tessa doesn’t know where this is going. “Simon. Please, tell me what you’re thinking. Please forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” he says with a sniff. “We have a daughter. You needed time away from the past to focus on the future.”
“Don’t make it too easy,” she begs. “I know I was wrong. Listen, Riley is ready to bring her here, if you would like her to come and see you or your family. Or we can check out tomorrow and go to Chicago.” She is desperate to please him. Whatever he wants to do after this news, she will comply.
He keeps his hands on her waist and rubs his nose against hers. “No, not yet. I’d like us to fly straight to Rochester, if we could. I need to tie up loose ends and then I’m coming with you to Chicago.”
Loose ends? Does he mean the business? She makes the choice not to question it for now.
“Okay.”
“I also have to call my mum.”
“Okay.”
She holds his face in her hands and kisses him. “I love you, Simon. You see, even when you thought I’d left you behind, I’d taken a part of you everywhere with me.”
He slides his hands under her blouse and feels her skin, with eyes closed, he touches her, teases her, until she arches her back while he trails his lips down her neck. She holds his hands in place, and cups them tighter.
She’s a woman now, with a child, with wounds that may never heal. Time might have passed between them, but her heart has been his since she was twenty-six years old. She senses his need to know that. He lifts her skirt up and caresses her. She breaks from him, planting both toes on the ground so he can unzip himself. “Show me, Tess. Take me deep inside you and show me how much you love me.”
“Baby, let’s try tomorrow,” Simon says, his arm around Tessa who’s been standing across the street from the restaurant on Rue Destin for twenty minutes. They had just come from a visit to the hospital where she’d stayed for two months.
“No. I have to do this.” She exhales loudly and steps forward.
“But you’re shaking.” Simon rubs her shoulders and dips his head, so his lips are grazing her ear.
She takes his right hand from her shoulder and holds it tightly, pulling him toward the entrance. They ask to be seated outside. She has no point of comparison. She doesn’t remember the place, what it looked like, or whether it has changed since. Simon has helped her to relax considerably. They order some red wine and speak casually. He tries hard to keep the conversation at an even keel, but then he realizes she’s back to normal.
“Does it look the same? The place?” she asks, as the server brings them an order of carpaccio. She feels ashamed. She asks herself why she’s taken so long to yearn for healing. She wonders how long it was until they reopened. How the restaurant owner who lost his wife could miss her every single day. Like she did Jacob.
You see? Everyone must find a way to move on. The thing is, Ciel may have been brought to life the night before this. This place has brought her sorrow, but also joy.
He nods his head. “As I remember.” He doesn’t tell her everything has been redesigned. The bar takes on a new look, lots of chrome, no tiles. It’s also been moved to a completely different area. The blood spatters and bullet holes are gone, but they’re still all he can see.
“Dr. Mathieu said you lost your job because you stayed at the hospital with me.”
He shrugs. “I’d been wanting to branch out anyway. Start my own thing. It wasn’t like I didn’t have a plan. It was the right time.”
“Thank you, Simon. For everything.”
He places his hand on hers and keeps it there. They work through their food with one hand, anchored together to this place, this moment, the past, the future. Simon’s phone begins to beep.
“It’s my family,” he says, smiling. She giggles as he tries to maneuver the phone with his free hand. Tessa tries to pull the other hand away.
“No,” he orders.
Tessa laughs. “You’re on Facetime now too? Wow! You techie.”
His mom’s face appears. She looks radiant. Prettier than Tessa remembers. Beside her is Adrian, who’s holding the phone and panning it from side to side.
“Hello, lovely couple!” Adrian greets them.
“Hi, Mum, Adrian.”
“Tessa! So nice to see you!” their mom exclaims.
“Hi, Mrs. Fremont! Hi Adrian,” Tessa says, her grin sheepish, unsure.
“I am being told I have a new granddaughter! My first one! Adrian, here, has three boys now.”
“Yes, yes, you do!” Tessa answers. “Would you like to see her?” She fishes into her purse and pulls out her wallet. She places a picture of Ciel, dressed as a ballerina in all pink, in front of the camera.
Mrs. Fremont’s hand flies to her mouth and she begins to cry. “Oh, my! Oh, my! She’s beautiful! She looks just like Simon when he was that age.”
“Except she has more hair,” Simon jokes.
“When can we meet her?” Mrs. Fremont asks.
“As soon as you want.” Tessa loops her arm around Simon’s.
“We have to go now, Mum, I’ll call later. Back in St. Paul tomorrow evening.”
“Simon! Dad and I will come visit soon. Adrian will help make the arrangements.”
“Brill!” Simon says. “See you bro. Talk soon. Love you both.”
Tessa waves at them before the screen goes black.
It was the best sleep he’s had in years. Granted, they were exhausted after walking around Paris all afternoon. In the evening, they stayed in. Ordered dinner for two at the hotel, drank some champagne and enjoyed each other for hours until they both fell asleep.
Simon squints his eyes as they open to a golden streak of sunshine filtering in through the windows. He turns around, missing her face
, craving her touch, and is shocked when she’s not there. He flicks his head up and looks around the room.
Their suitcases are all packed up, Ciela’s toys still on the floor as they’d left them. She didn’t leave him.
Relieved but worried, he searches the suite for her, walks quickly down the narrow hallway from the bedroom to the sitting room, and then turns toward the bathroom. When he doesn’t find her, he steps out onto the balcony and looks out into the street. He knows where she’s gone.
Before we leave, I’d like to check those gardens out. It looks like a maze from here, doesn’t it? I wonder if people actually get lost in those trees.
Simon is dressed and out the door in ten minutes. He makes his way across the Place de Vendome to Rue de Rivoli. Tessa’s maze is the Terrasse de Feuillants—a long pathway lined with groves of Chestnut, Elm and Lime trees, neatly manicured and shaped. Simon walks along the road until he reaches Place de la Concorde. As he enters the park, he is met by a grand big wheel. Since it’s the middle of the day, no one’s there.
He sees her immediately. Seated on a green park chair facing a large pond named the Fontaine des Fleuves.
He breathes a sigh of relief as he approaches and kneels on the ground next to her. “You’re not going to get me to go on that again,” he says quietly.
She doesn’t acknowledge his presence, keeping her eyes on the Ferris wheel in front of them. He’s struck with fear as he sees she’s been crying. Her eyes are swollen, her nose is red. She’s hugging her purse to her chest.
But before he can do anything, she starts to speak. “It was because you fainted, the reason I said all that. The stress of what happened was too much for you. Sleepless nights, I guess. All the time you spent taking care of me at Pitie’. I couldn’t bear to think about losing you, too. So, I sent you away. I think I knew.” She turns to look at him. “I think I knew that you were sick. It was a different kind of bullet, but it would take you away too.”
“Tessa.” He reaches out for her, but she leans back, avoiding his touch.
“That night, you were asking him about the wine. 2006 Bourgogne Pinot Noir. The owner. He stayed at our table and gave us an education on wine. You told him you would retire in Paris and work for him. You enjoyed his company so much,” she says, her tone flat, emotionless. She sniffs. “His wife, she asked us three times whether we were enjoying ourselves. She looked at a picture of Henry. He was Jewish, you know. And she was Algerian. She died in his arms during the attack. There were three birthday parties going on that night. Everyone was laughing, celebrating. You asked me to marry you. I said yes without thinking. I loved you more than I ever imagined I could love anyone. I was thinking that night, that my love for you combined my love for my parents and Jake. That you were the world to me and nothing else mattered.”
Simon begins to sob. He, too, is awash in the torment of their past.
She reaches for his arm, without removing her gaze from the sky. She doesn’t console him. “Jake looked so handsome. He was wearing another button-down shirt. Green, this time. The afternoon before, I’d convinced him to buy a pair of expensive jeans from Saint Honore’.” She giggles maniacally. “He wore them that night. I remember his laugh most of all. He was so happy because Riley was missing her period and so they thought she might be pregnant. And then you left with her to go to the store. He talked to me then, told me how happy he was for us. I was trying to get him to promise to go to London often. He told me he knew we would be fine, that I’d found the one for me.”
“Tess,” he whispers, at a loss for words.
She releases his hand and rummages through her purse. Her actions are wooden, urgent. Mechanical, like she’s a machine on a mission.
“I need to call Riley. Where’s my phone?” She finds it shortly after, hidden in the side pocket. She dials Riley’s number and puts the phone to her ear. The volume is loud enough for Simon to hear voices, but he can’t make out the words.
“Riley!” Tessa squeals. “He held me down, wrapped his body around me. I begged him to let me go, I couldn’t see anything.” There is silence on the other line. Tessa goes on. “He told me to tell you he loved you so much. That you were his home. I never gave you that message. I’m so sorry, Riley. I’m so sorry!”
She knows the high-pitched wail through the speaker is loud enough for Simon to hear. Riley sounds inconsolable. And Tessa sits in silence and listens. She doesn’t mute Riley’s screams. As if she needs to hear them. She closes her eyes and keeps the phone on her ear. The howling continues. There she sits, absorbing the sounds, wishing they would cleanse her, run through her veins.
And then he hears Riley’s voice. “I’m sorry, Tessa. I’m sorry I left you in the hospital. My parents came to take me away after my miscarriage!”
“I know, I know, Rye. Please don’t apologize. Simon was there. He was with me all that time,” Tessa cries. “And I told you once that I was already dead. But I’m not! I’m alive because of Jake. Because of Simon. Because of you!”
Riley’s voice rises a pitch and she’s hysterical once again. “What do I do, Tess? It hurts so much! I miss him every single day. He was my air! He was my everything!”
“Shh, shh,” Tessa says. This time she turns to Simon and smiles. “I’m okay,” she mouths to him. “See you at the hotel.”
Simon knows that Tessa will be fine. She wants to spend time alone with Riley. She wants to be there for her friend like the way her friend was there for her. Simon stands up and kisses Tessa on the mouth. She allows him to taste her, caressing his face in silent assurance that she is present. And then he gives her the space she needs. He leaves her to herself at the park.
When They Believe
Simon’s private plane lands at the St. Paul downtown airport exactly ten hours after the couple leaves Paris.
Tessa immediately senses a change in him upon deplaning. He’s turned all business, providing instructions to the copilot to have their bags brought directly to his apartment and addressing his limo driver in a very formal manner. It makes her wonder about a number of things, but she knows she’ll find out soon.
When she returned to the hotel after her phone call with Riley, Tessa was full of memories. Her recollection of what transpired before and after the tragedy had come back and she was slowly finding her peace. As far as she’s concerned, Simon could call all the shots going forward. It’s going to be a long process, getting from here, adjusting to the fact that he has a family. She wants to give him all the space he needs.
“You didn’t tell me you lived at the Lowry,” she says as they buckle themselves into the backseat of the car.
“You know it?”
“Jake wanted to buy a place there when he was interning at Mayo. Of all places, a historic building!” she exclaims.
“It’s been redone quite nicely.” He takes her hand and places it on his lap. “Speaking of Mayo, that’s where we’re going. I have someone you need to meet.”
“Oh?” she asks. He turns to look out the window and says nothing.
The hour drive to Rochester is light and easy. Simon watches the news in the car and she falls into a deep sleep. When they arrive, he leads her down a long and endless hallway toward a bed of elevators ensconced in large white columns. They get off on the 11th floor. Tessa halts abruptly as she sees the sign—Pulmonary and Critical Care.
“No.”
Simon takes her into his arms.
“No, Simon. What is this?”
He keeps her in his arms and whispers in her ear. “It’s all right, baby. I just want you to meet with my doctor so you’re well informed and whatever decision you—”
“I’ve made my decision,” she says, turning around and running back to the elevators. “I don’t need to know this today. There’ll be time. I promise, I’ll learn all about this later. I’ve made my decision. I’m staying with you. Nothing will change. Please, take me home.”
“I’m going to die.” He cha
ses after her.
“We’re all going to die,” she says, refusing to look at him. There’s a knife in her heart, twisting, turning, digging itself in.
She slaps the down arrow repeatedly, making sure its clicking sound drowns out the rest of his words.
“Come on, Tess. You know what I mean.”
She whips around to face him. “Then I’ll take a minute, an hour, a day, whatever I can. We’re going home, and we’ll deal with this later.”
There has been no end to these tears. How long has it been without a day of tears? Why is this happening? She wants to go home to Ciel; she wants to see Riley and Liam. And she wants Simon to see her home. The home she built with their story.
And then it all begins to make sense. “You were always in a hurry. Everything you accomplished. Me. You. Us.”
“Yes. When I look back to those wasted years, there is so much I could have done. I was healthier then. All I had to do then was pack a suitcase and be on my way. Things are different now. I love you, Tess. But I’m running out of time.”
“No. Stop it. Don’t say that.” She covers her ears while looking away.
“You have to know,” he says, all the while trying to pull her into him.
She succumbs. They stand in the hall wrapped around each other. “And now, this is why you didn’t want to proceed directly to see your daughter.”
“Yes,” Simon admits again. “I want to tell you all about my illness, make you aware that…” He stops. “Make you aware so that if you don’t want me in her life—”
“Of course, I want you in her life! In my life! Simon, please, please, don’t do this to me.”
She cries in his arms while he strokes her hair, rubs her back. And then she pulls away, her view so blurred by her distress, she just wants to break free. Slowly, she paces on autopilot, unaware of her surroundings.
She sees herself moving but she’s nowhere near. She’s out somewhere flying through the sky in a hot air balloon.
The sound of a shutting door interrupts her reverie. She comes crashing down into a pile of leaves. Simon is there to hold her, laughing as he shakes the dirt off her face.
Eight Goodbyes Page 25
