The Ariana Trilogy

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  “This is one of the happiest days of my life.” Frédéric stood in front of the group, raising his crystal goblet full of purple grape juice. “For years, with your help, I’ve been trying to convince this beautiful woman to marry me, and at last she has agreed. It is times like these when we are truly thankful . . .” Frédéric continued. He was as verbose as Simone was direct.

  “Oh, drink your juice and sit down,” Simone said, her gruff manner masking her embarrassment.

  “Not until I tell you how much I love you.”

  Simone flushed. “You just did. Now, do you want to get married or not?”

  Frédéric smiled, not in the least daunted. “A toast to my beautiful bride to be.” We drank deeply. “This wine is not as sweet as your lips.”

  “Wine?” Simone said.

  “Juice just didn’t sound right,” he supplied. “It doesn’t make me feel in the least as I do when I kiss you.”

  “Will you sit down?” Simone’s face turned an even darker shade of red. I laughed aloud. Never had I seen her so flustered.

  From across the table, I felt Jean-Marc’s eyes on me. He smiled when I looked his way, though his expression was unreadable. His hand reached out tentatively, and I placed mine in his. Our argument might still be unresolved, but I knew he loved me.

  * * *

  Late Wednesday afternoon came and with it signs of a family birthday party. We invited Ken and his family as well, so there was quite a crowd to wish the twins well on their sixteenth birthday. Mother made one of her special cakes, and Dauphine worked an extra shift at the café so we wouldn’t have to worry about work.

  In the midst of furious present-opening in the TV room, the phone rang. I kept my eyes on the twins sitting near me on the couch as I answered. “Hello?”

  “Hello. Am I speaking with Madame Perrault?”

  “Yes, this is she.”

  “This is Dr. Juppe. I’m calling about a kidney for Marc.”

  I stood in my excitement. “A kidney!” I nearly screamed the words, and abruptly everyone in the room fell silent, except for Kathy’s youngest child, who played loudly with a toy airplane. Marie-Thérèse grabbed her, and the noise stopped.

  “A kidney!” Pauline shouted. “Marc, I bet they found you a kidney!”

  “Do we have to come right now?” I said into the phone. We had been told that when a kidney became available, we would have only a short time to get to the transplant unit. “We’re right in the middle of a birthday party, but that’s all right.” In my nervousness, I was babbling.

  “A birthday? Oh, that’s right, Marc is turning sixteen this week. Tell him happy birthday.”

  “With that kidney, I think you already have.”

  “No, no. I thought you understood,” Dr. Juppe said. “This is none of my doing. The man said he had talked with you. This will be a live-donor transplant. Marc needs to come in tomorrow and be admitted for the last few tests, and if everything matches, we’ll do the transplant early Friday morning.”

  My mouth refused to work, and it was three tries before I managed the words: “A live donor? Who?”

  “Jacques de Cotte.”

  I sat down in shock.

  “Are you still there?” Dr. Juppe asked.

  “Yes, yes. Go on.”

  He gave me the details and hung up. Immediately, family and friends bombarded me with questions about when and where. I answered, and they all showed the same shock I felt when learning the kidney would come from a live donor.

  “But who would be so kind?” Louise asked. Jean-Marc’s mother had been upset when the doctor refused to let her donate because of her ill health.

  Jean-Marc’s eyes bore into mine. “It’s Jacques, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, and this brought another flurry of questions from my children, but none seemed overly concerned about Jacques being my ex-husband.

  “He must be a pretty nice guy, after all,” Marc said.

  “He’s cute, too.” Josette seemed to have forgotten the way Jacques had pumped her for information.

  Before the party wound to an end, we knelt and my father offered a prayer of thanks for Jacques’ decision. I wondered why he had changed his mind, and part of me felt uneasy.

  “See, the Lord has His own way of doing things,” Ken said, slapping Jean-Marc on the back as he left.

  The children retired to their rooms, leaving only Jean-Marc and me. He sat in the easy chair, his hand plucking at the armrest, staring into space.

  “Let’s go to bed,” I said.

  He didn’t reply but sat quietly, his eyes fixed on something I couldn’t see. I wondered if he was upset at the turn of events. We had never resolved our feelings stemming from the fight the Friday before. With each passing day, it had become easier to forget that the discussion had ever taken place.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I went to see Jacques after you did,” he said, not meeting my gaze. “Saturday morning. I felt bad about our fight and knew how disappointed you were. I wanted to do anything to make you happy again. I told Jacques he was a coward, that he talked a lot but never came through. He asked me what I would do if the situation were reversed, and I told him that as much as I hated him, I wouldn’t hold it against his son. And, funny thing is, I meant it. He said he didn’t hate me, that he didn’t care about me one way or the other or about my son. He only wanted what was originally his. You. I told him you were free to make your own choices. He said that was good because he knew you still had feelings for him and that he would win you in the end. He was so darned confident. Sitting there, smiling.”

  Jean-Marc’s eyes finally met mine. “And, Ari, I have to say that I went there wanting to beat some sense into him, but when he sat there smiling, it was as if I could suddenly see through him. He was so sad and so utterly alone.” Jean-Marc pulled me onto his lap, kissing my cheek and nuzzling my neck with his nose. “No matter how rich and successful he becomes, he would never have you. While I, on the other hand, have you and the children. That’s all that’s important.”

  I hugged his head to my chest. “But you’ve known that all along.”

  “It’s a lesson I keep having to learn. I’ve been so down on myself for what I haven’t been able to do that I forget what I have done. Being a good husband and successful father is more important than my failing at work.” He pulled back and gazed at me. “I haven’t been fair to you, Ari. I haven’t shared my trials with you. I wanted to protect you, but it’s just driven you away. That was why you felt you had to run to Jacques when Pauline got sick. You couldn’t trust me.”

  I tried to speak, but he wouldn’t let me. “Oh, I know it’s not as simple as that, but what it boils down to is that because I was so miserable, I wasn’t there for you. You know, Jacques may be a slimy, lowlife creep, but he cares about you and about how you feel. That’s why he wants to help Marc. He’s being more of a man than I was.”

  “I don’t think he could ever be the man you are,” I said, meaning it. “But I don’t want to force him to give up part of his body. This has to be a willing gift.”

  Jean-Marc nodded. “I told Jacques that on Saturday, when I suddenly felt so sorry for him. I said that neither of us wanted to force him and that the decision would have to be his. Forcing someone to do something wasn’t right, I said, and unless the decision was made freely, it wouldn’t be any decision at all. He said he’d think about it, and I left.”

  I wondered if Jean-Marc’s comment had reminded Jacques of how he had tried to coerce me to going back to him. But that problem was in the past, and Marc would still receive his kidney—if they were a good match. I snuggled closer to Jean-Marc, pushing all thoughts of Jacques to the back of my mind.

  “I got two job offers yesterday,” Jean-Marc said.

  Warmth spread through me, not at the information but at the voluntary sharing of it. “And?”

  He snorted. “They both offered less than we make managing the apartment and café. I think it’s best I stay t
here until I can find something better. At least this way, I get to be with you.”

  I smiled at his sentimentality. He was right; it was good being together. “Listen, the rain,” I said. His arms tightened, and for a long time we listened, just the two of us.

  * * *

  The next day went quickly. There were many tests, and Jean-Marc and I spent much of the day shuttling back and forth between the café and Marc’s room at the hospital. When we couldn’t be with our son, Grandma Louise stayed in our place. We were to get the final test results by late afternoon and learn whether or not the transplant would take place the next day.

  At the appointed time, Dr. Juppe came to Marc’s room, smiling. “It’s a go,” he said. “Everything is matching up better than I expected. At least as good as some kidneys I transplanted twenty years ago that are still working. I’m very hopeful.”

  “Yes!” Marc said from the bed. Jean-Marc, Louise, and I smiled.

  “We should go see Jacques,” I said. Jean-Marc nodded.

  “Tell him thanks for me,” Marc said.

  “Take your time,” Louise said. “I’ll stay with Marc.”

  The room was dark, and Jacques was watching TV. He grinned up at us when we came in. “I passed the test, huh?” he said. “The doctor just left. I guess I have no excuse now.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” I reminded him.

  He met my eyes, and for the first time I could see him instead of his desire to relive the past. “Yes. I do need to.”

  I nodded. “Well, we came to say thank you and to see how you’re doing.”

  “Is there anything we can do for you?” Jean-Marc asked.

  Jacques’ smile faded. “Could you come and see me tomorrow before the surgery? I’d appreciate it.”

  I smiled. “Of course. We’ll be here.”

  We turned to leave. “Would you like to see a little TV?” Jacques asked. There was an odd, lonely touch to his voice. When we hesitated, he added hastily, “You probably have to get back to your son.”

  “Actually, my mother-in-law is with him,” I said. “But I have to go to the café to see how the girls are doing. I’m bringing them back to see Marc.”

  “I’ll stay.” Jean-Marc looked at the TV, pretending interest in the show.

  “I’ll check in later with the girls,” I said. “But first I’ll have to take André and Pauline to my mother’s.” They didn’t allow children younger than fourteen to visit at the transplant unit.

  “Take your time.” Jean-Marc settled in a chair beside the bed, while Jacques watched him with cautious eyes. I left, swallowing the growing lump in my throat.

  Later, I took the girls to see Jacques before going to spend time with their brother. Both Josette and Marie-Thérèse had wanted to thank Jacques for his sacrifice. We found him and Jean-Marc still watching the TV. They looked up and smiled.

  “Hi.” Josette practically bounced near the bed.

  “How are you?” Jacques asked tentatively.

  “Good. I wanted to thank you for helping my brother.”

  “I’m glad to do it. And maybe you can like me a little again. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  She shrugged, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “It’s okay.”

  Jacques smiled and turned to Marie-Thérèse. “You must be Paulette’s daughter. You look like her. We were friends in the old days. I cared about Paulette; I was sorry to hear about her death.”

  “Thank you.” She held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Jacques shook it warmly. “No, the pleasure is all mine.”

  We stayed for another twenty minutes, talking or simply looking at the television. The girls pestered Jacques with questions about his life, but there was little to tell.

  “How did you meet Mom?” Josette asked. I glanced warily at Jean-Marc, and he sat up in his chair, ready to interfere should Jacques say anything to embarrass me or our daughters.

  “We met at a nightclub,” Jacques said. “It was her birthday, and we danced practically all night. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was very beautiful.” He paused. “You remind me very much of her at that age, Josette.” She flushed prettily and didn’t think to ask more questions. I admired Jacques for changing the subject so skillfully.

  “We should be getting to Marc,” I suggested.

  Jacques hid a yawn. “Believe it or not, I’m tired.” I thought he said it only to be polite; it was a side of him I hadn’t often seen.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow,” Jean-Marc said. “We’d like to give you a priesthood blessing, if you don’t mind.”

  Jacques shook his head. “I don’t think so. I won’t need it.”

  “But it can help.” Josette appeared surprised at his refusal.

  “Thanks, but no.” Jacques’ voice was final.

  “Whatever you want,” I said. “Regardless, thank you.”

  He smiled. “You’re welcome.” We left together, not looking back.

  * * *

  At seven the next morning, Jean-Marc and I visited Jacques before they took him into surgery. “How are the girls?” he asked.

  “A little worried,” I said. “They’re out in the waiting room now.”

  Jacques himself acted nervous. “Do you mind saying a prayer for me, Ariana?” he asked. “I mean while I’m in there.” He had refused the offer of a blessing, but as the time for surgery neared, he was apparently growing anxious.

  “Sure,” I said.

  The nurses came in and made the bed ready to wheel from the room. “See you later,” Jacques said a little breathlessly. We watched him until he reached the end of the hallway, where the nurses entered the double doors.

  We went back to Marc’s room where Ken, Father, and Jean-Marc gathered around the bed for yet another blessing. I was fasting and feeling very sick, but the blessing calmed my spirit.

  Marc must have read something in my face. “Oh, Mom, don’t worry,” he said with a grin. “I’m going to be fine. I think in a couple of months, I’ll be able to go roller blading.”

  “Well, maybe in three.” I searched his eyes. “You’re not afraid?”

  “I was, but I’m feeling fine now. Don’t worry.”

  I wondered if Marc had inherited his father’s way of trying to protect me. I wanted to shelter and comfort my little boy, but instead, he took upon himself that role. For a moment, I felt as if my deceased brother was there, helping him know what to say. Antoine had always taken care of me, in life or death.

  “Mom,” Marc said, “once, when I was little, you told me that all knowledge comes from the light of Christ. That means the knowledge of this transplant also came from Him, and I sort of feel He’s going to be there, helping the doctor.”

  “I think you’re right,” I agreed, hugging him.

  They took Marc away, leaving us to wait in his room, praying and talking softly. Occasionally, we checked in with the rest of our family and a group of friends in the waiting room. The two operations were timed so that as the kidney was taken from Jacques, Marc was already being opened to receive it. Minutes ticked slowly but steadily toward the nearly three hours it took for the surgery. At last Dr. Juppe entered the room, smiling.

  “Everything seems to be going well,” he announced. “The minute I hooked the new kidney up, it started working. Sometimes they don’t start right away, and that always makes me nervous, but with Marc, it went very smoothly. Only time will tell for sure, but I am very hopeful for a long twenty or thirty years with this kidney.”

  “Thank you,” Jean-Marc said.

  “Yes, thank you,” I repeated. “We appreciate everything you’ve done.”

  Dr. Juppe’s chubby face crinkled in a smile. “It’s what you pay me for.” But we knew that his compassion went far beyond the payment we would give him.

  “When can we see him?” I asked.

  “He’ll be in recovery for about an hour, and then we’ll bring him back here. He’ll still be pretty groggy, though.”
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  We went to the waiting room to share the news. Family, friends, and ward leaders stood as we walked into the room. “Well?” Pauline nearly danced with excitement. Even André had lost his sullen look, if temporarily.

  “He’s fine,” Marc said. “The kidney’s already working.”

  “How’s Jacques?” Josette asked.

  I started guiltily. Since learning about Marc, I hadn’t thought even once about Jacques, who had given him this chance. “I haven’t heard,” I said, “but I’m sure he’s fine.”

  With the good news, the crowd began to disperse. They all wanted to see Marc, but for a few days only two visitors at a time would be allowed in. My parents took our children back to their schools, while Louise and Lu-Lu stayed to wait for a turn to see Marc.

  When they wheeled Marc back into his room, he was tired but ecstatic. “I had a dream,” he said. His face glowed. “I’m going on a mission, Mom! I may not go very far away, and I’ll have to take my pills, but I am going!”

  We talked for a while longer, but it was obvious he still needed to sleep off the effects of the anesthetic. Finally, we decided to let Louise and Lu-Lu in to visit while we grabbed a late lunch. To our surprise, Ken was in the waiting room with Louise and Lu-Lu. The bright color of his flaming hair brought warmth to the bleak environment. “I thought I’d see how Marc is doing,” he said. “I couldn’t come by earlier because of work. Louise and Lu-Lu tell me everything is going well.”

  “It’s looking good,” I said. With the crowd of supporters, I hadn’t noticed his earlier absence.

  “We’re just about to eat lunch. Want to come?” Jean-Marc asked.

  “If I’m buying,” Ken said. “After what you guys have been through, you deserve a good meal.”

  Jean-Marc paused, his face suddenly thoughtful. “Maybe we should check on Jacques first.” Ever since Josette had asked about him, I’d wondered how he was doing, but the nurse we had seen didn’t have any information.

  “He doesn’t have anyone,” I said. “We really should go see him.” I glanced at Ken. “But they probably won’t let more than two in.”