Chapter 14
Olivia and Francois went back and forth between Paris and New York after the summer they spent at the farmhouse in Connecticut.
The others came and went, Charlotte and her children, between other trips, a rafting trip in Colorado, and a ranch in Wyoming.
Andy went with them. Isabelle moved to the farm for the summer with her children and the nanny, after she filed for divorce from Ian in June.
She heard rumors that Leila had left him too, and moved to L.A.
Quinne and Coop were working through the summer on both her own production house and the series, but enjoyed a day off here and there, and a hiatus on the set for four weeks.
Veronica and Scott came out on weekends.
Spencer came from London for two weeks to spend time with Andy.
Andy had taken over the house, at his father’s insistence.
Olivia and Francois spent time at the farmhouse when they could in the fall and were excited about Olivia’s pregnancy, which was going well.
It had been a fruitful and challenging year, the hardest year of their lives after losing their mother, and the best year in other ways.
New babies, new work, new marriages, new loves, disappointments like Isabelle’s divorce after suffering through Ian’s affair, and true love and a happy ending at last for Olivia and Francois.
There were good people and good times, and some incredible obstacles and griefs to overcome.
They all spent the day together in Connecticut on the anniversary of Felicia’s death, realizing that a year before, brokenhearted, it was only then that her children had discovered who she was.
They all wished they had known her better, and discovered the truth sooner.
With the pain of losing her had come blessings for them all, thanks to her.
And Spencer, her great love, was part of their lives now.
He had lost the woman he loved, and gained her entire family surrounding him now and loving him too.
They scattered her ashes on the anniversary.
It had taken them a year—they couldn’t face it before that.
The sisters had ordered a beautiful white marble heart, which they put under a tree in the garden to honor Felicia, with her name and the dates, and an inscription: “Extraordinary mother, grandmother, partner, writer, friend. So beloved, so greatly missed, the brightest star in our sky, forever loved.” Spencer cried when he read it and was touched by the addition of “partner” for him.
They said the Lord’s Prayer, sang Amazing Grace, and each of Felicia’s daughters scattered a portion of her ashes, and Spencer too.
They all cried but they knew she would want to be there, and be part of the flowers and the trees and the peace and love she had found there, and now for eternity, to be remembered by those who had loved her.
The day ended with a big meal that they all prepared and enjoyed at the farm.
It was painful remembering the day a year before.
And yet a year later, there was hope, a baby on the way, a series, new loves.
On the anniversary of Felicia’s death, Olivia was six months pregnant, a symbol of life and hope and the future for them all.
They spent Christmas and New Year’s together at the farm.
It had become the center of their world, the place where they came to find peace and solace, where they laughed together, ate together, shared their victories and their dreams, and folded their wings in order to take flight again with renewed strength.
Isabelle’s divorce from Ian was final in January. Leila had moved to L.A. Ian had a new girlfriend by then.
And in February, they all went to the premiere of the series, and saw the first episode aired.
There was a big party that night. The ratings went through the roof, and the reviews were fabulous.
Quinne had begun writing some of the screenplays herself.
Robert Farr was proud of all of them, and knew Felicia would have been too.
They went to the party after the premiere, sponsored by the streamers who had created it from Felicia’s book, and Charlotte asked Olivia if she was okay when they got there.
Her face was flushed and she said she had a headache and her shoulders were sore but she was fine.
She was two weeks away from her due date and she and Francois were excited and anxious.
He watched her like a mother hen. Charlotte thought she didn’t look right at the party, and said something to Isabelle.
Olivia had worn a gold dress to the event, Francois had flown in from Paris that day, and wasn’t leaving again, since her C-section was a week away.
The baby seemed huge. She let Francois push her wheelchair at the party, she said her arms were too tired.
She was at the end of the pregnancy, and had been busy with their new apartment.
They had bought a duplex at the Dakota on Central Park West.
Charlotte and Isabelle didn’t want to worry Francois, but Isabelle finally said something to him when Olivia went to the ladies’ room with Charlotte.
“We don’t know what, but Char and I think something’s up with Olivia. Something’s off.”
He looked surprised. “She said she feels fine.” Neither he nor Olivia had any experience with pregnancy and she’d been healthy the entire time.
“Don’t forget, she doesn’t feel anything from the waist down,” Isabelle reminded him. “She won’t know if she starts labor.” Olivia’s doctor had told her what signs to watch for. As Isabelle spoke, Charlotte appeared pushing Olivia’s chair as fast as she could through the crowd.
“Get the car,” she said tersely to Isabelle. “Or an ambulance, whichever you find first.”
“What’s wrong?” Francois asked her, and looked at his wife. She was suddenly deathly pale.
“I’m bleeding,” she said, looking frightened.
“A lot,” Charlotte added. Francois took over the chair and pushed through the crowd at full speed, pressing through.
They had a limo outside and Charlotte and Isabelle climbed in, leaving the others at the party.
Isabelle and Francois laid Olivia on the floor of the limo on her coat, and Francois told the driver to get them to New York–Presbyterian Hospital as fast as he could.
Olivia was in and out of consciousness as they watched her.
Charlotte ran a hand under her and it came away covered with blood. “She’s hemorrhaging,” she said, as Olivia passed out again, and Francois held her hand and looked desperate.
When they got to the hospital, Isabelle ran into the ER and two orderlies came out running with a gurney and blankets and lifted Olivia onto the gurney, with Francois running alongside as they raced into the ER.
“How pregnant is she?” they asked him.
“Thirty-eight weeks,” Francois answered.
They took Olivia straight to maternity to a delivery room.
They called her doctor, and an attending obstetrician examined her.
They ran an IV into her arm and cut her clothes off, and Francois stood there, shocked, terrified he would lose her and the baby.
They explained that they thought the placenta was delivering first, so she was hemorrhaging, and because of her paraplegia, she had felt none of the pain or the warning signs.
“We’re going to do a C-section right away,” the obstetrician told them.
They had a fetal monitor on the baby and the heartbeat was strong, but Olivia’s was thready.
She had lost a lot of blood, she was bleeding out.
Once in the operating room, the anesthesiologist had a mask on Olivia’s face, and they told Francois to leave.
Everyone was moving fast and monitors were beeping.
“They said I could stay for the C-section,” he said, terrified.
“This is an emergency, we’ll come to tell you how they are,” a surgical nurse said, hurrying him to the doors. He found Charlotte and Isabelle outside. They sat down in chairs together, silent, praying, afraid, and tears were rolling down Francois’s cheeks.
“We shouldn’t have tried it,” he said. “She said there was no risk.”
“This could happen to anyone,” Charlotte said softly. The only difference was that Olivia didn’t feel anything. Someone without her spinal injury would have felt the pain hours earlier.
They sat for what felt like an eternity waiting for news.
Francois was pacing, his dancer’s body tense, like a lion ready to strike, but there was nothing to strike at, nothing to do, nowhere to go.
And then the obstetrician came out of the delivery room.
His scrubs and apron were covered in blood, but he was smiling at them.
“Your wife is fine,” he said to Francois.
“And so is your son. Your wife lost a lot of blood. We’ve given her three units, and she’ll need another one.
The placenta had detached and was delivering first. If you’d waited half an hour longer, we would have lost them both.
” A nurse came out then with a small bundle wrapped in blankets, with a little blue knit cap on his head, and a perfect face.
He looked like Francois, and weighed eight pounds, ten ounces.
He was beautiful, and Francois cried when he saw him.
“Can I see my wife?” he asked the doctor.
“We’re closing now. You can see her in the recovery room in about half an hour.” The nurse took the baby to the nursery then, to check his vital signs again and scores, and clean him up. His aunts watched him go with tears in their eyes, and they hugged Francois, who sobbed in relief.
“If you two hadn’t noticed that something was wrong, they would both have died.” He couldn’t have borne losing her again.
“Congratulations,” Charlotte said, wiping away her tears, and they took a walk outside to get some air. It had been a terrifying night with a happy ending.
“Maybe Mom was looking out for them,” Isabelle said softly, and Francois looked shaken and nodded agreement.
“I would have given my life for both of them,” he said. They went back inside, and Francois went into the recovery room to see Olivia.
She opened her eyes and smiled wanly when she saw him. They were still giving her blood. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, and so beautiful. I love you, I’m sorry it was so hard.”
“It was scary,” she said, and drifted off to sleep while talking to him.
Francois sat next to her and she slept for a long time, and then they took her to a room.
Charlotte and Isabelle had gone home by then.
The others were waiting for news and they texted everyone saying Olivia and the baby were fine.
They all came to visit the next day. Olivia looked terrible with dark circles under her eyes, and Francois stood next to her, looking at her and their son in wonder.
She was holding the baby, but she was very weak and a nurse took him from her.
Francois was acutely aware of how lucky they had been and how blessed they were.
When they were alone again, Olivia looked at him and smiled.
“It was worth it. I would do it again,” she said.
“I’m not sure I’d survive it,” he said.
“My mom did it five times. C-sections with all of us,” she said.
“She was an amazing woman and so are you,” he said, and sat next to her.
A nurse came in and handed Francois the baby, and then they carefully put him to Olivia’s breast. She lay there, holding their son.
She looked like a Madonna as he gazed at her, and as he did, he could see Felicia’s face in hers, just for an instant, and their strong resemblance, and then he saw Olivia clearly again, and he knew that Felicia was with them, guiding them, protecting them, loving them.
He wondered if she had brought them back together when Olivia wrote to him.
He looked down at Olivia then, radiant with their son in her arms, as she nursed him.
They named him Felix, and Francois had never been as grateful in his life.
He knew a miracle had occurred. Many of them. Felicia was their guardian angel now.
—
They christened Felix on their first anniversary in May.
Spencer was his godfather, and Isabelle his godmother.
Charlotte and Andy got married on the same day, in a simple civil ceremony at the farm, which was all they wanted.
All of the family was there as witnesses, to celebrate them and their union.
Julia and Sean were best man and maid of honor.
And they celebrated Olivia and Francois’s son.
There had been many miracles. Olivia and Francois had reconnected, and Olivia’s and Felix’s lives had been saved at the delivery.
Charlotte and Andy had found each other and were happy.
Veronica and Scott were engaged and getting married on Christmas.
Veronica had just gotten a job at a law firm.
Quinne and Cooper were happy and doing well, with their careers and the production house.
Isabelle and her children had found peace after a tumultuous year.
She was happy again and thriving. And Spencer had the family that Felicia wanted to give him and didn’t have the chance.
They had him now and he had all of them to warm his heart.
They were Felicia’s final gift to him. Her family to love him in her absence.
Every one of them had been touched by a miracle, by the woman who had loved them, more than they ever knew when she was alive.
“I guess we were her favorites after all,” Olivia said, holding her son on her lap in the wheelchair. He was sound asleep after being baptized. And Andy had just kissed the bride.
All of them were Felicia’s favorites, the special people she had loved, and left to care for each other. They were a chosen few. They were Felicia’s favorites, every one of them, and she lived within them now forever, to protect, to bless, and to love them, just as she had when she was alive.