Twice in a Lifetime Page 32

  “You may not get any sleep,” he warned.

  Marie-Thérèse shrugged. “I’m used to that.”

  Raoul smiled. “Then I accept. Thank you. I’ll sleep better knowing she’s all right. But call me if anything happens, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  At Marie-Thérèse contented expression, Raoul was glad he’d allowed Nadia to stay.

  “Oh, Mathieu, give him the folder from the hospital,” Marie-Thérèse said as Raoul was about to leave. “I’ve been meaning to give it to you all week, Raoul. I might as well do it right now since I’m remembering. It’s a copy of the DNA results—though they’re not really needed now, and the reports and blood work from the doctor they took Nadia to before she came here.”

  Raoul accepted the file Mathieu retrieved from a drawer by the telephone. “Thanks. I just hope I don’t lose them on the way to the car. I’m practically asleep on my feet.”

  “You sure you don’t want to sack out here?” Mathieu invited.

  “No. Then I really would be intruding.” Raoul gently touched his daughter’s head. “Besides, Rebekka may need me. Thanks again.”

  Mathieu walked him to the door, and Raoul left, feeling more than a little guilty. He would have to learn to deal with Nadia if he was going to raise her. He couldn’t keep running to Marie-Thérèse. “It’s just this once,” he promised himself. Then he laughed. “I’ll call Mom next time.”

  As he rode down in the elevator, he searched through the medical folder Mathieu had given him. Most of it he didn’t understand, but when he read the results of the blood work, he felt a sudden coldness in his heart.

  No, he told himself. I’m just remembering wrong. There isn’t a problem here.

  Nevertheless, he worried about it all the way home. Rebekka was asleep, and he wasn’t going to wake her, though with all her research into blood compatibility because of her husband’s kidney problems she could likely resolve his concerns.

  He snapped his fingers. “I know—the Internet.” A person could find just about anything on the Internet.

  In Rebekka’s office, he switched on the computer closest to the window—the one that had belonged to Marc and that Rebekka had so graciously offered for his use since he moved in. There hadn’t been space to hook up his own equipment, and since Marc’s computer was already connected to the network at their firm, and through that to the Internet, he’d only needed to adjust a few passwords and transfer his own files to make the computer useful.

  He drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited for the connection to go through. In a few minutes, he would learn the truth.

  * * *

  Marie-Thérèse lay on her bed with Nadia still on her chest. The small weight of the child was comforting to her, and the steady breathing reassuring.

  Mathieu sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you going to hold her all night?”

  “Do you mind terribly? I just miss her so much.”

  “Of course not. Though I’d like a chance at her, too.”

  Marie-Thérèse laughed softly. “Okay then. You can hold her while I go check on the other children, but I get her when I’m done.”

  “Deal.” They transferred the baby to his chest.

  Marie-Thérèse checked first on Brandon and then on Celisse. She even peeked into Larissa’s room and listened for her breathing. “All safe and sound,” she said when she returned to her bedroom. Instead of taking Nadia from Mathieu, she dimmed the lamp, curled up next to him, and put a hand on the baby’s back. Full of love, she didn’t think about tomorrow, about having to give Nadia up again. Tonight she would live only for the moment.

  “Is it wrong to be grateful for colic?” she whispered.

  Mathieu smiled. “I just had the same thought.”

  * * *

  Raoul stared at the information on his computer screen, willing it to change. But he knew it wouldn’t—he’d already played out the Blood Type Calculator program five times, and each time had verified the results.

  Nadia wasn’t his daughter.

  According to the report Marie-Thérèse had given him, her blood type was A. There was no way a woman with O blood like Desirée and a man with B like himself could have an offspring with type A blood. Period. He and Desirée could have given birth to children that were either O or B, but not A. If he’d had AB blood like his sister and Mother, then it would have been possible, or even A like his father, but he didn’t. Since there was no doubt about Desirée being the natural mother, the only conclusion he could come to was that he wasn’t the biological father.

  The thought brought more pain than he believed possible. They were divorced, and he thought he’d been able to forgive Desirée . . . but for this? Not only had she hidden Nadia from him, but the baby wasn’t even his!

  Raoul printed up the relevant pages and broke the connection with the Internet. Burying his face in his hands, he cried. He cried for Marie-Thérèse and Mathieu, he cried for himself, he cried for Desirée. Most of all, he cried for innocent little Nadia, who had done nothing to deserve any of this chaos.

  She wasn’t his daughter, and yet he felt that she was. How could he now give her back to Desirée? That was unthinkable. Yet to have a constant reminder of his wife’s infidelities . . .

  Raoul pulled at his hair, his thoughts rushing together like waves in a storm. Abruptly, he stood and ran from the room. Before he realized what he was doing, he was in his car, the urge to sleep driven from his body. He drove to Marie-Thérèse and Mathieu’s, but he didn’t go inside. He sat staring at the windows to their apartment, trying to feel Nadia. His bitterness grew and his tears came ceaselessly. He couldn’t remember feeling so betrayed at any time during his marriage—which from the beginning had been a sham.

  He shoved his car into gear and drove on, not knowing where he was heading. To his surprise, he ended up outside the apartment Valerie shared with a friend. Early morning light was beginning to feather across the sky, reflecting off the thin cloud cover. Had he been up all night?

  Raoul forced himself to wait another hour before emerging from the car. The crisp morning air was cold as it always was this time of year and his thin sweater did little to protect him. He glanced in the back seat to see if he’d left his jacket there, but all he saw was Nadia’s car seat and her blanket. More pain knifed through him. What was he going to do?

  The door to the apartment lobby had been propped ajar with a small rock—likely by one of the inhabitants who’d gone to run a quick errand nearby—and Raoul let himself in. He felt rather nervous as he rang Valerie’s doorbell. She answered herself, wearing soft-looking pink thermal pajamas and with her long black hair tousled from sleep.

  “Raoul?” she said in surprise. But her smile was welcoming and her beautiful hazel eyes showed honest concern.

  “Val, I need . . .” He didn’t know what he needed. To his chagrin, the tears returned. She opened her arms, and he fell into them. For long moments she silently held him as he sobbed.

  When at last he was calmer, she led him to the couch in her sitting room. The furniture there was well-used, but clean and attractive. There were splashes of color in the room—a floral display, a wall-hanging, a hand-woven carpet—that Raoul felt sure were Valerie’s contributions. They were vibrant and alive, much like Valerie herself. Suddenly, he couldn’t take his eyes from her, and he marveled at how beautiful she looked to him just out of bed.

  “What happened?” she asked. They had separated, but she still held Raoul’s arm, giving him immense comfort.

  “It’s Nadia.” He launched into an explanation.

  She listened carefully before speaking in the sincere, thoughtful way that had made her so valuable at work. “You don’t want to give her back, do you? Yet, you don’t know if you can act like a father with a daily reminder of what Desirée did.”

  He nodded. “I want to raise her more than anything. She’s a part of Desirée, and I loved her so much—once. But when I think about Nadia not being my biological daug
hter—there’s a huge resentment there.” He took Valerie’s hand and began to stroke the softness. “I knew Desirée was unfaithful, but the idea of her having a baby with another man while we were married . . . it’s more than I can take. I feel so angry inside, like it’s consuming me. What if I raised Nadia and that resentment came through? What if I made her life as miserable as her mother made mine? She doesn’t deserve that. None of this is her fault.”

  He paused, searching Valerie’s face. Did she think he was a monster? He let out a long sigh. “I love Nadia. I felt connected to her and yet, now a part of me wishes I could give her to Marie-Thérèse and Mathieu. They’re already in love with her and they wouldn’t have these complicated feelings. Yet, what kind of a man gives up his daughter? Or at least a child he thought was his daughter? Besides, it’s not my right to give her to them anyway.”

  “You’re worried that Desirée won’t agree to put her up for adoption.”

  “Exactly.” He looked up from where her finely-boned hand lay cradled in his own. “I know she doesn’t want a baby. She told me herself that she would have gotten an abortion if not for me, so I can’t let her go back to Desirée—which is exactly what will happen if I tell anyone the truth. But how can I live a lie? Every day of my life I’ll see Nadia and remember.”

  Valerie shook her head. “I don’t believe you’d ever resent Nadia.”

  “But I do!” Raoul said in agony. “That’s just the point. I feel miserable about it, especially after all these weeks of searching and suffering, not knowing where she was, wondering if she was dead.” He gazed at Valerie earnestly, willing her to understand. “I wondered what it felt like to feel her first kick, her heartbeat, to see her born, but in the end she’s not even my child. I’m so . . . so furious at all the emotions Desirée put me through. How could she do this to me?” He clenched and unclenched his jaws several times and then said more softly. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Valerie was quiet as though searching for an answer. Then she said, “We’ll think about it. Pray about it. There has to be an answer—one that will give you peace and Nadia a good family.”

  “I don’t know that I can give her that. Yet there seems to be no other option.” He tightened his hold on her hand. “Do you hate me for what I’ve said?”

  She shook her head. “No. I still don’t believe you’d ever take it out on Nadia, but maybe it’s too much to ask—that you raise your ex-wife’s child when she was so terrible to you. There must be another way.”

  “I don’t know what it is.”

  “Neither do I. But we’ll figure it out.”

  Raoul looked at her, his heart warming for the first time since he’d discovered the truth. Having Valerie to talk to brought an entirely new dimension into his life. He’d been so alone these past years of his marriage, despite the support from family. He’d attended church alone, prayed alone, and most of the time slept alone. Being with Valerie now gave him the support and companionship he desperately craved.

  Valerie’s eyes widened as he closed the distance between them. Her eyes were her most vibrant feature, full of life and warmth and something else that Raoul had searched for futilely in Desirée’s. “I think I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured. “So maybe you’d better leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She titled her head, and her shiny black hair rippled down her back. Raoul shoved his hands in the silky mass and drew her to him.

  They kissed for a long moment and when they drew apart he stared at her, amazed at the depth of his emotion. She smiled and lazily opened her eyes. “I could get used to that.”

  He hugged her, one hand still tangled in her hair. “Thank you for being here, Valerie. Thank you so much.” He leaned forward to kiss her again.

  The phone rang and Valerie broke away, laughing self-consciously. “Uh, you’ll have to let go of my hand if I’m going to answer. I should hurry before my roommate wakes up.”

  Reluctantly, Raoul let her go, knowing his problems would only come rushing back.

  She retrieved the portable phone from the kitchen and returned to the sitting room. “Yeah, he’s here.” She put her hand over the bottom part of the phone and said to Raoul. “It’s your sister. She’s been worried because you and Nadia didn’t come home.”

  “Let me talk to her.”

  Valerie passed the phone.

  “Raoul, I’ve been so worried!” Rebekka said in his ear. “I’ve been calling your cell, and I called Mom and Dad and the office. Have you been there the entire time?”

  “I left the cell in my jacket—wherever that is. And, no, I’ve mostly been driving. I just got here about a half hour ago.”

  “How’s Nadia?”

  “Fine, I guess. I couldn’t get her to stop crying last night, so I took her to Marie-Thérèse’s. She fell asleep there, so I left her with them.”

  “So do they know?”

  “Know what?”

  “That Nadia’s not your daughter? I was looking for you and I saw the pages you left in the office—and your notes.”

  He heaved a great sigh and was gratified when Valerie sat next to him on the couch and took his free hand. Her hand felt so soft in his, so right. “What would it help? If this comes to light, the only thing that’s going to happen is that Desirée will get her back. I love Nadia and I can’t let that happen, but I don’t know if I can do this. It’s such a huge betrayal.” Raoul repeated all the things he’d told Valerie, feeling small and mean inside. When he was finished, he was glad his sister didn’t seem to hate him.

  “So what you’re really saying is that you wouldn’t mind if Marie-Thérèse and Mathieu adopted her. If it could be arranged.”

  Raoul thought for a moment, experiencing pain at the words but also a great relief. “I guess that’s right. She’d be close enough for me to check on, but not so close that I’d have to constantly remember what Desirée did.” His temporary relief vanished at the words. “But it’s never going to happen. The minute Desirée knows I have no claim to Nadia, she’ll be free to take her, give her to her parents, sell her to the highest bidder, or raise her herself. How can I resign innocent little Nadia to a life like that? A life without the gospel or values—driven only by money and self-gratification? No, I love Nadia too much for that. I’m just going to have to find some way to do it—and do it right.”

  “Wait a minute,” Rebekka said. “Let me think. Okay, now, in the divorce settlement, was Nadia named specifically, or did it say your child or something like that?”

  “She was named. I got custody and Desirée got the trust fund I set up for her.”

  “Then if she fights for Nadia, she loses the trust, right?”

  Now Raoul understood. He glanced at Valerie who was watching him, and he felt suddenly hopeful. “I think that’s the way we worded it. Are you saying that she might agree to let me find a home for Nadia if I let her keep the money?”

  “I can talk to her. See how she reacts. Without saying anything about the blood tests.”

  “I want to believe it could work out, but I know her too well. She could probably get more money under the table letting some rich couple adopt Nadia. More than we can come up with.”

  Rebekka was silent a moment, and then, “I think there’s something you might be overlooking.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I believe she loves Nadia. I think that’s the real reason she gave her to you.”

  Desirée had certainly fooled his sister, but Raoul didn’t want to hurt Rebekka by saying so. “You think she’ll give up Nadia a second time because it’s the best thing for her?” Raoul couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped into his voice.

  “I hope so. The trust fund can be our trump card.”

  “What makes you think she’ll do the right thing?”

  There was a long pause. “While you were at church last Sunday, Desirée came over. She’d heard that we’d found Nadia and came to ask you if she could see her. She wanted to make sure she was all
right. She was having nightmares and couldn’t sleep.” His sister’s voice grew hesitant. “I—I let her hold Nadia for a minute, and after that she seemed ready to go on with her life and to stay out of Nadia’s. She said she didn’t plan on visiting so Nadia wouldn’t be confused. I think she meant it.”

  Raoul clenched his teeth, fighting his anger. He didn’t know if he was more angry at Rebekka for letting Desirée see Nadia, or for not telling him she’d visited.

  Rebekka sensed his mood. “She needed to see for herself that Nadia was all right. I didn’t think that was too much to ask, seeing as she was willing to give her up completely.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “Raoul, she asked me to tell Nadia when she was older that she loved her.”

  What? Raoul forced his anger down, considering this new information. Could it be possible his ex-wife did care for their daughter? “What do you think we should do?”

  “Let me talk to Desirée. I’ll call her parents and they’ll know how to reach her. You stay where you are or go get Nadia. But don’t come home until I call you.”

  “Are you sure this is going to work?” he asked. Since when had Desirée ever done anything that would benefit him?

  “If it doesn’t we’ll fight her with everything we’ve got,” Rebekka said, her voice unyielding. “We may not have unending resources, but we have a lot. If we have to, we will raise Nadia ourselves, and we will love every minute of it.”

  There was no room for argument. “If anyone can pull this off, you can.” He was good at business, but Rebekka understood people. She understood languages, even those people didn’t speak. Maybe she could see something in Desirée.

  “Tell me,” Valerie said, interrupting his thoughts.

  “She’s going to talk to Desirée.” Doubts assailed him. “Oh, Valerie, what if this isn’t the right thing to do? My ex-wife is so unpredictable—and this is Nadia’s life we’re talking about.”

  “How does your heart feel?”

  He had to think about the question. “It feels that Nadia belongs with a family who can love her fully— not with me. That hurts. It hurts a lot.” Tears came into his eyes, blurring her face.