They spent hours talking: as time went by, the atmosphere was becoming more relaxed. The laughter and chatting about every possible subject echoed in the glistening gilt of early afternoon until they returned to Marcia and Peter’s wedding. Janice explained how the two of them had met: it supposedly happened on some youth seminar in Hamilton. They fell in love right after their first encounter: they looked happy, carefree and peaceful. When they announced they wanted to marry each other, no one wanted to disturb their happiness.
- Peter is handsome, tall, his eyes are like a tern’s. He resembles his father. A bit stubborn, but a charmer with substance – Janice said. She looked at Madeleine, expecting her to contribute with her own remarks.
- It’s understandable that you praise your future son-in-law – Madeleine smiled. – He may have a certain resemblance to his father, but only in physical appearance. I wouldn’t discuss his character. The only thing I’m sure of is that I gave him his grandfather’s name, the name of his father’s father. And that his stepfather loved him as if he were his own son.
- I don’t get it – Donna said. – I thought Peter was the son of Andrew Trenton, Captain Seaborne?
- No – Madeleine replied. – Andrew couldn't have children. We found that out after Peter was born. We wanted to have more children, but I couldn’t get pregnant. When we went for a check-up, it was discovered that Andrew had been sterile since birth.
- You’ve… - Victor jumped in, but he immediately bit his lip, realizing that the thing he wanted to say wasn’t any of his business. – I wanted to say…
- I know what you wanted to say: that I was pregnant when I went to Virginia with Andrew.
- That’s right. That’s what you told me last time we saw each other.
Madeleine took a deep breath and looked straight into Victor’s eyes without blinking. Her heart was wildly beating. She was apparently trembling. She said:
- Victor, Peter is your son.
He instantly jumped in fury and, horrified, looked at Donna who was as pale as a ghost, then at Janice, and finally at Madeleine. He said in a raised voice:
- What game are you playing with me? Hey, I asked you something! Are you crazy? I… I don’t know what you’re talking about…
- I’m talking about Peter, your son. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you this, after so many years. I haven’t had the chance earlier – Madeleine said ruefully, and then remorsefully looked at Donna. – I feel awful, believe me. Peter and I are financially sound for the rest of our lives. We don’t need anything. All I want is for my son to know who his real father is. That was also Andrew’s wish.
- I don’t know what to say! I simply don’t know – Victor said, forlorn. Donna approached him and took his hand gently and protectively. Janice embraced both of them, fondling them, while Madeleine said through tears:
- A great man can handle a big problem, while a petty man stumbles on the smallest obstacle. Victor, I repeat: I ask nothing of you, neither for myself nor for Peter. Except for him to be acknowledged as your son. He’s your son, I swear to God and to my late husband. He’s your son! When you see how much he looks like Winston, you’ll know that I’m telling you the truth.
- This world has gone mad… I understand nothing. Absolutely nothing! – Victor was saying incoherently. – How? When? Where? I really don’t understand anything…
- It took one night for it to happen. And you must remember that we’ve spent a lot of nights together. Donna is our witness – Madeleine said, now in a calm voice. – It all happened before you started seeing Donna. I haven’t taken you from anyone, nor do I want that now, believe me. I just want you to tell me what to do.
Victor buried his head in his palms and rubbed his face vigorously. Then he said:
- I really don’t understand anything.
- Help me! Tell me what to do! Andrew told me a long time ago: “When Peter is old enough to get married, that means he’s old enough for leading an adult life. That’s when you can say everything to him.”
- Does Peter know who his father is? – Victor asked in a calmer voice.
- He thinks it’s Andrew Trenton.
- And why shouldn’t he continue to think that?
- I'm not against it, either. That's why I came to seek advice from you. But, when Andrew realized that he was going to die soon, he told me: “If anything happens to me, you have to tell Peter about his real father, and you have to tell Victor that Peter is his son. You have to!” I’m here to fulfill his last wish and I’m waiting for your decision. For your and Donna’s mutual decision.
Victor stood up and walked to the fence, and then got back to the table. He did it a couple of times, in silence, with a grim brow and pressed lips. He finally approached Donna, stretched out his arm to her and drew her to himself. He hugged her and didn’t move for a moment, his lips touching her hair; she could feel him trembling. Then he said:
- Sugar, I have to go to Tampa tonight. Will you join me?
She looked at him softly and replied:
- Of course, Vic! Of course I will! I’ll always be by your side. I’m so happy I’m going to meet Peter.
* * *
Wrapped in each other’s arms, they were lying in bed in Madeleine’s house in Tampa, listening to night sounds and waves crashing against the rocks. They were also listening to the whispers of their own souls and hearts, feeling that a lot had changed in their lives in the last few days. Still, there were two major changes: they managed to save their own marriage, and Winston and Sarah unexpectedly got a new brother.
- Sugar, we have one more child – Victor said, caressing Donna’s cheeks and hair.
- We do! – she whispered.
- I never dreamed of Winston and Peter being so alike. Like two peas in a pot!
- They’re brothers, Vic! Brothers! You should always keep that in mind.
- Peter is a grown man. Have you seen how mature he was while listening to his mother’s story, and then mine? Do you think he’s happy?
- I do.
- And do you think he’ll grow to like me?
- I do, Vic. You’re his father!
- Do you believe me when I tell you that I already love him as much as I love Winston and Sarah?
- I do – she answered, and then asked softly – And who else do you love? Who, Vic?
- You, Sugar! You!
- Do you love me as much as I love you?
- First I have to know exactly how much you love me.
- Immensely, Vic! Immensely!
Her whispering and soft cuddling continued like satisfied purring of a cat. She pushed her Butterfly under the palm of his hand, begging: “Take me, Vic! Take me! Now!”
She loved him – so strongly, so intensely and so passionately that she didn’t even feel when he unraveled the hair behind her ear and started to shower her with kisses that she had long forgotten about.
(The End)
The Lover from Fifth Avenue (The Greatest Love Stories) Page 10
